#so that's about how good I was at sports back then

[acid-ixx]

'cause you're takin' it like a champ, sweetheart !

(nsfw) romantic! yandere conner kent x gn! reader

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

— masterlist ; leaked sex tape post ; other post !

a/n: mdni. purely nsfw. inspired off of @luludeluluramblings. the reader here is gender neutral but is a bottom, so interpret them as any gender as you will! mentions of breeding, oral (giving &. receiving), and overstimulation.

i'm sorry but i just read about the sex tape thing and now i'm shitposting you guys. what if instead of making chapter 6 for my series angsty, i make conner and you have kinky, sloppy, sweat-drenched sex after your first date? what if instead of the batfamily stripping you away of your freedom, conner strips you naked right before one of the secret cameras placed inside the room you're both in, that he's sure records every single passionate movement you both make in bed?

what if instead of you crying from the pain of all the negligence, you writhe and mewl like an overstimulated pornstar as he pounds away all your worries instead??? and if the footage unknowingly gets leaked? holy shit, not only do you possess the title of bruce wayne's infamous bastard child, but you're now also known as a kryptonian monsterfucker who definitely possesses the energy of a bull if it means you could handle bed-breaking sex to the point you're sure anyone from a mile away could hear your bated, snappy breaths and conner's sporadic, non-stop humping into the most pleasurable parts of your body.

cause even if he's half-human, that doesn't take away the fact that he is half-human. he sports features that aren't typical in normal anatomy. this just translates to: less energy is consumed when fucking you, so he could go on and on and on eating his love out, leaving marks for hours whilst simultaneously ensuring that you're probably well-bred (and i hc that it's probably almost exclusive to kryptonians that they cum, a lot) and dripping and feeling full by the end of the night (or day, heaven knows just how long he could go off worshipping your body).

and yes, the leaked sex tape piqued the interest of most curious eyes and it's probably going to be the spectacle for most researchers curious about kryptonian anatomy- but consider this. conner's not the only man obsessed with you. there're some romantic interests out there seething with rage, at the same time nutting and touching themselves to the video and playing it on repeat cause you're taking it like a champ.

unfortunately for them though, you've already been too addicted to the feel of conner spearing you down that you just can't fathom anyone else holding you the same way he does. you love the dichotomy he puts you through (to the point you ignore the red glinting lenses above your body) when he's possessively pinning you to the any fucking surface with his strong arms wrapped around your waist, with no chance of escape, the sensation of his dick penetration in and out in a hasty, yet rhythmic beat. yet despite the harsh thrusts, his hand still find itself to your sweaty forehead to wipe away stray hair, his lips taking its sweet time softly pressing kisses from the crown of your head all the way to your lips.

"good j-job takin' me whole, sweetheart— ah! god, i love you..." he whispers praises with his parched throat on your ears, every syllable enunciated with the thrum of his hips, your legs nearly resting over his shoulder. if not for his breaths hitting the inside of your ears, goosebumps spreading throughout your body, you wouldn't have picked up on the bass of his voice complimenting you.

your grip on his body only tightens, eyes shutting deeper into the near zenith. with just how much you're humping back despite the soreness in your muscles, tears escaping your eyes from pure, unfiltered pleasure, it's as if you're putting on a performance for the whole world to see.

"i— AH! i love you, t-too, kon– baby!" your reply came in the form of a squeal after another of his particularly harsh thrusts from waiting for your response. god, your throat hurts, it's more sore than conner's, taking him in your mouth fully felt like a fever dream, but you could remember the shape of his tip puncturing the back of your throat that it has your body reeling for another mind-blowing orgasm.

the glass of water on the stand beside you both is empty, it's been empty for hours. yet conner's still thirsty, how else would he be quenched from his urge when his previous ministrations of eating you out whilst prepping you to take his dick makes him even hornier? there's something about your body that makes the kryptonian want to memorize every single detail from how you writhe when the piercing in his tongue penetrates a sensitive part of you, and oh, the salty taste of your sweat and tears is heaven for a starving man like him.

shit, the thought of sloppily devouring you whole after he fills you up time and time again would be the cherry on top. overstimulation works pleasures on his sweetheart's body like a charm. he loves seeing the more desperate parts of you begging for more yet telling him to stop at the same time, as your hands still tangle harshly on his hair to keep him in place.

... but for now, he's got to focus on the lack of love marks on the expanse of your body, his vision nitpicking all the places in your skin that he's going to suck hickeys on. it'll definitely be his final piece of the puzzle to show all your other admirers his claim on you.

and the whole world can only bear witness to the artwork he's creating with you.

welp, guess it's just going to be you and conner alone in the room for a while, satiating both your hunger for each other, haha...

— oh, and don't forget the hundreds of cameras placed strategically to record all angles of your bodied fucking like animals!

[tsuutarr]

Demon Delinquents x Human! Reader

Here's my gift for @ozzgin (who organized the secret santa event, tysm)!!

Content is about 1K words about you and your new delinquent demon besties <3

You, a human, somehow ended up in a school filled with demons. Though, you’re surprised to see that everything is rather… normal? Despite your peers and teachers sporting horns and other demon-like features, your demon school really seems like every other school.

You’re introduced to your classmates who politely clap, before you’re ushered to your new seat. All normal stuff, really, except that you’re seated at the very back in between what looks to be two delinquent demons. And, just your luck, you seem to have caught their eye. They could probably drill a hole through your skull with how much they’re looking at you.

So it’s really no surprise when you’re called out to the back of the school when class is over. You’re trembling as the demons loom over you, sharp teeth glinting underneath the sun.

“You’re gonna be our hench human,” the demon with red skin cackles, smile wide. You’re pretty sure he could bite your head off.

“And you’re gonna like it,” the demon with yellow skin adds, his frown showing off all his sharp teeth.

You’re too scared to say anything, but they take your silence as agreement.

“Good!” the red demon guffaws, pointing to himself. “Name’s Rex.” He points to the yellow demon beside him. “This guy’s Lem.”

Lem juts his chin out at you. “‘Sup?”

You’re really not sure how to react, making the three of you just stare at each other.

Finally, Rex raises an eyebrow. “Yer name?”

“Oh,” you say, blinking, before stuttering out your name. Rex and Lem look pleased.

“A’ight, great.” Slinging an arm over your shoulder, Rex begins to maneuver you as he begins walking, Lem following behind closely. “First order of business…”

You’re going to die. You’re convinced of it. Why else would they be dragging you with them?!

Surprisingly, however, you find yourself in the cafeteria. Somehow, you expected demons to be more rowdy, but everyone seems to be minding their own business. Even Rex and Lem are standing in line, waiting for their turn despite being delinquents.

You’re not left too much time to ponder, however, since it’s soon your turn to order. You’re certain they’re going to make you buy their lunch, but they… don’t? They pay for their own food, before dragging you away again until you’re on the rooftop.

“Here,” Rex says, tossing you a sandwich. “A good hench human’s gotta be strong.”

“And ya only get strong by eatin’,” Lem adds, shoving a whole melon bun in his mouth.

You blink, sandwich in your hand, as Rex and Lem dig into their lunches.

Rex looks to you, before swallowing down his food. “What? Ya not hungry? Or d’you not like sandwiches?”

“Uh, no, just…” you purse your lips. “I guess I didn’t expect you to buy me lunch?”

“Tsk, tsk,” Rex says, wiping some mustard off of his bottom lip. “You’re our hench human now, ‘course we gotta feed ya. We can’t have a weakling followin’ us around.”

Lem nods in agreement.

“Uh, right.” You nod with a stiff smile. “Thanks.”

With a loud laugh, Rex rips open a bag of chips. “‘Course, hench human! Let us know if you’re still hungry, got it?”

“...Got it,” you agree, before digging into your own sandwich. It’s actually kind of good.

Since that point onwards, you continue to hang out with Rex and Lem. Contrary to their appearance, Rex and Lem are good students, always on time to class (and thus making sure you’re on time too). They’re not… really delinquent like, truthfully.

In fact, one time, you thought they were smoking, but they were just eating lollipops. Another time, you thought they were drinking beer, but it was just apple juice. Frankly speaking, they baffle you – other than their appearance, they don’t really… do anything delinquent-like. But they’re also convinced that they are doing something delinquent like.

“We’re showin’ up to class ‘cause we’re asserting our dominance,” Rex had explained when you asked why he wasn’t skipping class. 

Lem nodded sagely in agreement. “The class is all scared of us, y’see? We gotta show ‘em who’s boss.”

When you asked them about the lollipops and apple juice, Rex said, “It’s ‘cause lollipops and apple juice have a lotta sugar. They’re super dangerous, which is why we’re usin’ ‘em. We’re strong like that.”

“Yeah, we’re cool like that,” Lem agrees.

You honestly don’t really get their logic, but… they’re not bad to hang out with. They take you on bicycle rides (not motorbikes, though, since Lem is scared of them). They walk you home because, according to Rex, “No one’s gonna hurt our hench human!”

They’re strange guys, but they’re kind of fun in an endearing sort of way, maybe. You don’t really mind hanging out with them. Plus, they always buy you lunch. It’s nice eating with them on the rooftop.

“Man, I can’t believe midterms are comin’ up,” Rex groans, looking displeased as he tosses a chip into his mouth. “Gotta study.”

“You guys are studying for midterms?” you ask, making Rex and Lem nod solemnly.

“We hafta. How else are we gonna show the rest of them how scary we are?” Lem inquires, crossing his arms as he chews on his lollipop. “We gotta show ‘em that we’re the strongest.”

“Don’t worry,” Rex says, slapping your back with a grin. “Ya got us, yeah? We’ll make sure that no one can mess with ya. Lem and I are top five in the whole school – we can teach ya, no worries.”

You blink slowly, processing the information. They actually study despite being delinquents to the point that they’re top five in the entire school? Huh?! How does that make sense?

But as you watch them eagerly discuss how they’ll make study guides for you to help you study, you can’t help but let your incredulousness go.

Because, yeah, they’re not traditional delinquents… but they’re doing their best and they care about you a ton, so maybe that’s what really matters in the end.

Maybe.

[beamorgan]

Favourite Reads of the Year

I will not be ranking these, because that would hurt my heart. Buckle up folks, there are a lot of amazing books out there

The Murderbot Diaries by Martha Wells

I know, I KNOW, I'm late to the party but omg this whole series is just as good as people say!!! I know I said I wouldn't be ranking, but if I was these would be fighting for the top spot. I have already relistened to all the audiobooks. I anticipate rereading them literally every year from now on. I would die for Murderbot, which it would think is a stupid thing for a human to do when there is a SecUnit right there. [adult, scifi]

Emily Wilde's Map of the Otherlands by Heather Fawcett

Sequel to last year's fav Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries, this follows a bullheaded academic trying find the magical door that will let her faerie boyfriend back into his faerie kingdom. Chaos ensues in the Alps. It's fabulous, and the author's approach to using folklore is very similar to my own writing, which I love and also get imposter syndrome about. 10/10 recommend [adult, historical fantasy]

Model Home by Solomon Rivers

Would you like to be repeatedly punched in the gut? Look no further than this story of racism and child abuse in a Texas McMansion, with gorgeous prose and a genderqueer protagonist and the laundry list of content warnings you can expect with the genre. It hurt so good. [adult, contemporary gothic horror]

You Should Be So Lucky by Cat Sebastian

This love affair between a baseball play and a sports reporter was recced to me by the lovely @colubrina and boy was it worth the two-day binge it inspired! Romance can be very hit-or-miss for me, but this knocked it out of the park (please enjoy my pun). I didn't even have to know anything about baseball to love it! [adult, historical (1960s) romance]

The Locked Tomb Series by Tamsyn Muir

Another tumblr fav, FOR A REASON. Gideon is hilarious. Harrow is an absolute mess. Nona is BABY, my beloved. (Camilla and Palamedes have my whole entire heart). Also, the audiobook narrator is fantastic. In the words of the author, the buns are also fried chicken. [adult, sci fantasy]

Master and Commander by Patrick O'Brian

This one is @elodieunderglass's fault. Historical buffoonery on boats. The main characters are ridiculous. The sailing jargon is incomprehensible. It's great. [adult, historical fiction]

All You Can Ever Know by Nicole Chung

This is a gorgeous memoir of an interracial adoptee trying to make contact with her birth family while pregnant with her own child. It grapples thoughtfully with reconnecting to a lost culture, the complexities of family history, and the social and legal barriers adoptees face to learning about themselves. [adult, memoir]

Death in the Spires by KJ Charles

I devour everything Charles writes, so I was EXCITED for this mystery. She made it very clear on social media "It's not a kissing book!!" (it's kinda still a kissing book). She wrote a stonking book, as usual, with an underdog protagonist revisiting the murder that happened during his toxic time at Oxford university. [adult, historical mystery]

Martyr! by Kaveh Akbar

My favourite literary fiction read of the year, this meditation on Iranian diaspora identity is written by a poet and you can tell. I would suck the prose up through a straw if I could. The protagonist is an addict and also quite suicidal. It was fun :) [adult, literary fiction]

She Who Became the Sun by Shelly Parker-Chan

and the sequel, He Who Drowned the World. I don't even know how to sell this, all I want to do is flail incoherently about how amazing it is. IT'S AMAZING. JUST READ IT. (wait I know: this satisfied the part of me that was obsessed with Mulan as a kid) [adult, historical fantasy]

A Little Trickery by Roseanna Pike

The voicey-est book I've ever read. I screenshot like every other page. It follows an orphaned girl trying to survive in Tudor England through various means, such as faking a miracle in the church where her gay best friend is priest. [adult, historical fiction]

At the End of the River Styx by Michelle Kulwiki

My friend wrote a book! It made me cry!!! They were delighted with this!!! Please give this to any teenager in your life who needs to see thoughtful representation of grief and depression and boys in love. [YA, contemporary fantasy]

[meazalykov]

the past does not exist

lena oberdorf x interviewer!reader

summary: after a year, the both of you came to accept that you cannot change the past.

it was a job you loved—interviewing the best and brightest in women’s football, seeing the beauty and heartbreak of the sport that brought you so much love.. love for someone who never made it professionally. 

you had a thing for drawing out stories no one else could, peeling back the layers of the players' lives beyond the pitch.

it wasn’t just about asking the right questions; it was about knowing how to listen, being caring, and respect. through this job, you were able to make friends with many of the footballers.

you weren't a gossip interviewer, you knew what to post and when to keep your mouth closed and mind your business. mainly sticking to growth stories, interviews about games itself, and tactical commentary. the players respected you as much as you respected them.

when you stayed in wolfsburg during the 2023 champions league final, the town seemed excited for the team that shined throughout the season. the final was in eindhoven, but wolfsburg fans decked out in green and white as they prepared to cheer on their team against barcelona in the dutch city. 

for you, it was another opportunity to dig deeper into the lives of players, and the wolfsburg squad was nothing short of intriguing. to you, lena oberdorf stood out among them. she is a tough midfielder whose intensity on the pitch was matched only by her charm off it.

your first interview with lena was.. interesting to say the least. she leaned back in her chair, arms crossed casually, a mischievous glint in her eye as she teased you about the list of questions you had prepared. 

“come on, these can’t be all you’ve got!! be nosey for once,” she’d said, a grin tugging at the corner of her lips.

you laughed, adjusting your recorder on the table. 

“trust me, oberdorf, i’ve got plenty more where that came from.”

“good,” she said, leaning forward slightly. 

“i wouldn’t want this to be boring.”

what followed was a conversation that felt less like an interview and more like a sparring match. she was sharp, witty, and unapologetically confident. you couldn’t help but be drawn to her energy. over the next few days, lena sought you out whenever she could—whether it was a casual chat after training or a quiet drink in the team’s hotel bar. 

it was there, amid the low hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses, that your connection deepened.

one night, as the team celebrated their victory in the semifinals, lena pulled you aside. her usually playful demeanor was replaced by something softer, more vulnerable. 

“y/n.. i don’t know what it is about you,” she admitted, her voice low enough that only you could hear. 

“but i can’t stop thinking about you. you’re so beautiful, and i can’t stop hearing your voice. is that weird to say? i am not sure, but please tell me that this is not one sided..”

it didn’t take long for your professional boundaries to blur. you spent nights tangled in lena’s sheets, stolen moments in hotel rooms where the world outside ceased to exist. 

it wasn’t love, not at all, but it was something raw and undeniable. 

wolfsburg lost the champions league final, which sucked horribly. that means that you had your next job to do– the 2023 women's world cup. you were in australia, assigned to be following the uswnt as they sought to defend their title. 

that means that you couldn’t be with lena or germany. it sucked, but you and lena kept contact. until, germany’s shocking elimination in the group stage. it was a blow to lena and her teammates. 

when you texted her to check in, she didn’t respond. calls went unanswered, messages left on read. 

you understood that lena was hurting. the weight of expectations, the sting of disappointment, it was a lot for anyone to bear. however, her silence cut deep. you wanted to be there for her, to comfort her, but your job demanded your attention elsewhere. 

as much as it pained you, you told yourself to let it go. lena owed you nothing. you weren’t hers, and she wasn’t yours.

still, it hurt.

months passed, and you threw yourself into your work. you interviewed aitana bonmati after her world cup final heroics, sat down with leah williamson to talk about england’s near chance at winning it all, and made a documentary on the rise of young stars like lauren james, salma paralluelo, and trinity rodman. 

lena became a ghost in your life—a memory you tried not to revisit, though it lingered at the edges of your thoughts.

then, over a year later, the news broke: lena oberdorf is leaving wolfsburg for bayern. the transfer sent shockwaves through the football world, and as one of the leading journalists in women’s football, it was your job to cover it. 

except your coworker, matt, stepped in before you could even begin.

“i’ve got this one,” matt said casually, leaning against your desk. 

you looked up from your laptop, frowning.

“since when do you cover transfers? you only do injury status stuff..”

he shrugged. 

“since i know this one’s a little... complicated for you.”

“complicated?” you repeated, your tone sharper than you intended. 

matt raised an eyebrow, unbothered by your reaction. 

“look, everyone knows that you and oberdorf had... something. i’m just trying to make it easier for you.”

“i don’t need you to make it easier for me,” you snapped, though the tightening in your chest betrayed you. 

“i can handle it.”

“y/n,” judah, matt’s husband and your other coworker, spoke up, his voice softer. 

“you don’t have to prove anything. let matt take this one.”

you wanted to argue, to insist that you were fine, but the truth was, the thought of facing lena again—even from a professional distance—made your stomach churn. 

you hated that she still had this power over you, that the mere mention of her name could unravel the carefully constructed walls you’d built around yourself.

“fine,” you muttered, closing your laptop with more force than necessary. 

matt gave you a reassuring smile. “i’ll handle it, don’t worry.”

as he walked away, you leaned back in your chair, exhaling slowly. you told yourself it didn’t matter. lena was just another player, another story. you’d moved on. 

except, deep down, you knew that wasn’t entirely true.

paris had this summer’s energy with the olympics. the streets were alive with fans draped in flags from all over the world, and you were in your element, weaving through the chaos to chase stories that mattered. 

the united states had just played germany in the group stage, a tense match that ended in a 4-1 victory for the americans. the post-match adrenaline was palpable, and you had just wrapped up an interview with sophia smith. 

it was nice seeing one of your favorites again, sophia’s grin mirrored your own as she walked off toward her teammates to the dressing room, the tension of the match now replaced by joy.

you adjusted your microphone to turn it off. you turned to walk away, preparing to call it a day when you nearly collided with lea schüller. 

the blonde woman’s presence was commanding, her expression soft yet serious. you’ve interviewed her a long time ago while she still played for essen, but now she’s grown up. 

“oh, lea,” you said, recovering quickly. professionalism kicked in as you gestured toward the camera crew that was starting to pack up. 

“did you want to do a quick interview too? i can call them back.”

“no,” lea said quickly, shaking her head. her tone caught you off guard—there was a weight to it, something unsaid pressing at the edges. 

“i don’t want the cameras.”

your brow furrowed as you lowered your microphone and put it away in your bag. 

“are you okay? i mean, this is about the olympics, right? you should be focusing on that.”

“i am,” lea said, her voice steady but her gaze unwavering. 

“but this isn’t about the olympics. not entirely.”

you tilted your head, curiosity prickling at your skin. 

“then what is it about?”

lea hesitated, glancing around as if to make sure no one was listening. 

“can we just talk? no microphones, no cameras. just you and me.”

you hesitated. as much as you respected lea, this wasn’t normal protocol. the look in her eyes—earnest and almost pleading—nudged you to agree. 

“okay,” you said softly. 

“what’s on your mind?”

lea exhaled, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. she stepped closer, lowering her voice. 

“i’m here to apologize. not for myself—but for obi.”

your heart skipped a beat at the mention of her name. you hadn’t spoken about obi in months, hadn’t even allowed yourself to think about her for fear of reopening old wounds. 

here it was, her name hanging in the air between you and lea like a ghost.

“apologize?” you echoed, keeping your tone neutral. 

“for what?”

lea shifted on her feet, clearly uncomfortable. “i know about you and lena. about... what you had.” she paused, watching your expression carefully. 

“she’s really sorry for how things ended. or—how they didn’t end, i guess. for ghosting you.”

you swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry. 

“she told you about us?”

“she did, but honestly she didn’t have to,” lea said gently. 

“i’m her best friend. i noticed how different she was after you two stopped seeing eachother. she’s not great at dealing with her emotions, and back then...” lea trailed off, sighing. 

“she was going through a lot. losing the champions league final with wolfsburg hit her hard. then germany getting knocked out of the world cup? it was too much. and she didn’t know how to handle it. she shut everyone out, including you. shit, it took me a few weeks to get to her again.”

you wanted to look away, to shield yourself from the vulnerability of the moment, but lea’s gaze held you in place. the blonde’s words twisted something deep inside you—part anger, part sadness, part longing. 

“i get that she was struggling,” you said finally, your voice steadier than you felt. 

“but she could’ve said something. anything. instead, she just... disappeared.”

“i know,” lea said quickly. “and i’m not trying to make excuses for her. she knows she messed up. that’s why she asked me to talk to you since she can’t be here.”

you blinked, the weight of her words settling over you. 

“she asked you?”

lea nodded. 

“she wants you to know she’s sorry. she didn’t mean to hurt you but she also knows that an apology coming from me isn’t enough.”

you folded your arms across your chest, the defense mechanism almost automatic. “it’s not,” you admitted. 

“if she wants to apologize, she should tell me herself.”

lea’s expression softened, and she gave a small nod. 

“i understand and i think she does too, but she’s scared, y/n. scared you’ll never forgive her.”

you took a deep breath, willing yourself to stay composed. 

“i’m not saying i wouldn’t. but it has to come from her. not you.”

lea studied you for a moment, then offered a small smile. 

“honestly, you’re a good person, y/n. she doesn’t deserve you, but if she gets the chance to explain herself, i think you’ll see she’s been trying to be better.”

you didn’t respond right away. part of you wanted to dismiss the entire conversation, to pretend it didn’t matter anymore. the truth was, it did. lena still mattered, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise.

“thank you, lea,” you said finally, your voice quiet. 

“for telling me.”

lea smiled again, this time with a hint of relief. 

“of course. and for what it’s worth, i think she’ll reach out. she just needs to find the courage.”

as she walked away, you stood there, the noise of the olympic village fading into the background. you weren’t sure how to feel… relieved? angry? hopeful? 

it started innocently enough—moments stolen between interviews and training sessions, quiet conversations that lingered long after they ended. obi was magnetic by a vulnerability she rarely showed to anyoen except for you. 

she made you laugh when you least expected it. over time, those stolen moments grew into something deeper. the teasing smiles turned into lingering glances, and the casual touches—her hand brushing yours, her knee pressed against yours under the table—became harder to ignore. 

usually, you were able to keep your professionalism for footballers, but lena made you feel ways that you didn’t feel for a very long time until that spring of 2023.

for lena, you were different. she had always been wary of letting anyone get too close, but with you, it felt effortless. you asked about her family, her dreams, the books she read when she needed to escape the noise of the world. however, you asked because you wanted to know– not because you needed something new to write about for an article. 

obi, in turn, wanted to know everything about you—your favorite coffee order, the places you dreamed of visiting, the stories you carried behind your composed demeanor as an interviewer. it scared her how much she wanted to know, how much she wanted to keep you close.

the nights you spent together weren’t just about the sex, though that was undeniable. it was about the quiet moments after, when lena would trace lazy circles on your skin as you talked about nothing and everything. 

it was in the way she’d insist on walking you back to your room, even when it was out of her way, or how she’d send you random texts during the day—pictures of the sky, a meme she thought you’d find funny, a simple compliment. 

it wasn’t just hooking up, not to either of you, even if neither of you said the words out loud.

the semifinal was here a week after lea and you talked. the united states against germany, again. 

you adjusted the strap of your bag, walking alongside matt and judah as you made your way to the front-row seats reserved for the media.

matt was mid-story, animatedly describing america’s pre-match routine as he holds judah’s hand. you’re set to interview lindsey horan after the match. your media company is collaborating with the united states to put out a documentary if the united states win the olympics. a contrast to being eliminated from the world cup a year before. 

matt was talking when suddenly stopped in his tracks. his hand reached out to grab your arm, his eyes wide. “y/n,” he said, his voice dropping in volume.

“don’t freak out, but... is that who I think it is?”

you followed his gaze, and the world seemed to tilt for a moment. lena. sitting in the crowd just a few rows behind where your seats were, her presence as sharp and overwhelming as a gust of icy wind. 

she was next to lea, who was also sidelined due to injury, both of them out of action yet here to support their team. lena’s leg was propped slightly to accommodate the brace on her knee—a harsh reminder of her recent acl surgery. 

your breath caught in your throat as her eyes locked onto yours. there was a softness in her gaze, an unreadable mix of intrigue and something else that made your chest ache. she smiled lightly, not quite coy but just enough to make you feel unsteady. 

beside her, lea glanced your way and offered a small, sympathetic smile that only twisted the knot forming in your stomach. 

“shit,” you murmured under your breath, quickly looking away and focusing on the crowd in front of you. your heart raced, a thrum so loud you were sure matt and judah could hear it. 

“are you okay?” matt asked, his tone cautious, concerned. 

“fine,” you said quickly, your voice tight. 

“just wasn’t expecting—her.”

“do you want to switch seats?” judah offered, ever the considerate one.

“no,” you said, shaking your head even as your hands trembled slightly. 

“it’s fine. i’ll deal with it.”

it didn’t feel fine. it felt like your chest was caving in, the air around you charged with tension. lena wasn’t supposed to be here. she was supposed to be in germany, recovering. why was she here, in france, sitting just a few rows behind you? 

you made your way to your seat, determined to ignore the weight of her presence. matt and judah settled on the left side of you, chatting about the potential lineup changes for both teams. its 0-0 in the 40th minute and its clear that both teams might need changes. you nodded along absently, your thoughts spinning in a dozen directions. you glanced at the pitch, and latched onto lindsey horan’s familiar figure. you reminded yourself that you were here for a reason. lindsey. you had a job to do.

it was impossible to shake the sensation that someone is looking at you. it crawled along your skin, pulling your attention until you couldn’t resist. you turned your head slightly, your gaze flicking over your shoulder—and there she was.

lena.

she wasn’t watching the game. the german’s eyes were on you, unflinching and intent, as if she were trying to read your every move. obi’s expression wasn’t smug or teasing; it was quieter than that, almost searching. 

beside her, lea was fully immersed in the match, cheering loudly as the germans pushed forward. however, lena’s focus was solely on you.

your stomach flipped, and you whipped your head back around, your pulse thundering in your ears. you clenched your hands into fists in your lap, willing yourself to calm down. the last thing you needed was to let lena see how much she still affected you. 

“she’s looking at you, isn’t she?” judah’s leaned in, his voice feminine but low enough that only you could hear.

you didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you just nodded slightly. judah sighed, his tone softening. 

“forget that she’s even there.”

easy for him to say. judah didn’t have the weight of months of unspoken words and unresolved feelings sitting just four rows behind him. of course he didn’t, neither judah or matt understood lesbian relationships.. or situationships. the married couple didn’t have to confront the ache of seeing someone who had disappeared from their lives without explanation.

you tried to watch the game and it worked for a while. as the minutes ticked by, you couldn’t help but wonder if this moment, this game, this crowd, was lena’s way of trying to find her way back into your life.

it was. 

the americans kicked out germany to secure their place in the gold or silver medal match as germany will fight spain for the bronze medal. you finished your interview with lindsey in record time. it helped that she was a close friend, making the questions flow naturally. 

after the camera crew packed up and moved away, lindsey squeezed your shoulder affectionately. 

“good luck with... whatever’s on your mind,” she said, her knowing smile hinting that she’d picked up on your unease before and after the interview. before you could respond, she jogged off to join her celebrating teammates, leaving you standing alone at the edge of the media zone.

then, you saw her.

lena was on crutches, moving slowly through the thinning crowd. the brace on her leg was unmistakable, but it was her eyes that made your chest tighten. she was looking right at you, determined, like she’d already decided this conversation was going to happen whether you wanted it to or not. 

you froze. part of you wanted to turn and walk away before she reached you. however, your feet could not move. your pulse quickened as she stopped in front of you, her presence commanding despite the vulnerability of her injury. 

“hi,” she said softly, her voice carrying an unfamiliar mix of nervousness and resolve.

you nodded, keeping your tone professional. 

“hi, lena. how’s the leg?”

her lips curved into a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. 

“it’s... getting there. rehab’s gonna be tough, but i’m managing.” 

you nodded again, the words sticking in your throat. 

“that’s good. um, do you want to—”

“no,” lena interrupted, her voice firm but not unkind. 

“don’t do that, y/n. don’t skip around what happened. we can’t just act like it didn’t exist.”

you blinked, caught off guard by her directness. 

“lena, i don’t think—”

“please,” she cut in, her tone softening as she adjusted her crutches to steady herself. 

“let me talk.”

you swallowed hard, nodding. she took a deep breath, her gaze unwavering as she began.

“i messed up,” she said, her voice low but steady.

“last summer... after the champions league final and the world cup, i was in a bad place. i felt like i’d failed at everything that mattered—my team, my country, my family, and you.” she paused, her brows knitting together. 

“i was embarrassed. i didn’t know how to face you because i thought you deserved better than the mess i was. so, i ran and that was the worst thing i could’ve done.”

obi’s words hit you like a wave, stirring up emotions you’d worked hard to bury. you opened your mouth to speak, but lena pressed on.

“i thought i needed space,” she continued. “and maybe i did, but i didn’t realize what i was losing until it was too late. until you were gone. and i’ve missed you, y/n. every day. not just what we had, but you. your laugh, the way you understood me even when i couldn’t find the words.” she paused, her voice catching. 

“i haven’t forgotten about you. not for one day.”

you looked away, trying to steady your breathing. “lena,” you began, your voice shaky. 

“do you have any idea how much that hurt? you just... disappeared. no explanation, no goodbye. i thought—i thought i didn’t matter to you.”

“you mattered,” she said quickly, her voice firm. 

“you still matter. i know i hurt you, and i’ll never forgive myself for that. but i’m here now, and i’m asking... can we start over? i have so much time on my hands now with this injury. time to make it right, if you’ll let me.”

you hesitated, the weight of her words settling over you. “maybe you should focus on your recovery,” you said finally, your tone careful. “that’s what’s most important right now.”

lena nodded, her expression serious. 

“i am. my therapist said part of my recovery is being honest with myself though and the truth is, i want you back in my life. not just as something casual. i want us to be official, when the time is right.”

obi’s words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. then, you nodded slowly. 

“i’ll be in munich when bayern plays their first champions league match,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. 

“we’ll see where things stand then.”

lena’s face broke into a smile—genuine, relieved, and filled with something you hadn’t seen in her for a long time: hope. “okay,” she said softly. “okay.”

she stepped closer, leaning down slightly despite the crutches to pull you into a hug. her arms wrapped around you tightly, and you felt her press a small, lingering kiss to the side of your head. it was grounding, familiar in a way that made your chest ache.

as she pulled back, she met your eyes again. “you can stay at my place in munich anytime,” she offered, her tone light but sincere. 

you gave her a small smile. 

“okay.”

just like that, the past felt smaller, less significant. the past did not exist anymore, since the future was all you and obi have. 

masterlist

[latenighttalkinqwp]

can u do smth where reader is a gymnast and her a paige switch sports🤗

swapping sports with paige!

Uconn’s gymnastic media team wanted to get more recognition, so why not invite the new “recruit”, paige bueckers, to try some things out.

“Hey huskies! i’m here with paige bueckers. today, we are going to be testing out her gymnastic skills.” you wink, looking over at paige. “I think we all know i’m gonna be the new captain, my skills are unmatched.” she laughs, following you around the gym. “okay, so first we obviously have to get stretched. i’m gonna lead you in some split stretches to make sure we don’t tear anything.” you both sit on the ground, spreading your legs to sit in a straddle. you motion for paige to reach for her right foot, snorting when she can’t even get past her knee. “don’t mind this, i’m just not warmed up yet.” she shrugs, following everything you do.

“okay paige, now that we are all stretched, we’re gonna do some basic stuff across the floor.” paige nods, anxiously rubbing her hands on her pants. you begin to do cartwheels down the floor, motioning for paige to follow once you finish. “i’m a cartwheel pro.” paige mumbled to the camera, taking a deep breath as she began doing cartwheels ( well, paige’s idea of cartwheels. ) the camera zooms in on your face, capturing your reaction. “well then..i guess we should probably move on.”

“right, so, today’s challenge is to learn how to do a backbend.” you look over at paige, practically feeling the nerves radiating off of her. she nods, rubbing her hands together. “put the rizz hands down-”

“okay- we just need a few more clips of you and paige together then that should be good! thanks guys!” the media manager said, motioning for you and paige to come back over to the cameras. they instructed you guys on what they wanted, and focused on the chemistry between you and the blonde. after a few more minutes, they finally were finished. “okay guys, thanks so much for coming in today!” the manager said, waving as her team packed up. the girls smiled, muttering a quiet ‘thank you’ as they walked out of the gym.

“hey, it was really cool hanging out with you today,” paige held the door open for you, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. “i agree! y’know, if basketball dosen’t work out, i’m sure i could find you a spot on the gymnastics team.” you smiled, putting your hands in your pockets to try and find your car keys. paige laughed, walking you over to your car. you could tell she had something to say because she kept looking over at you, then back to the ground. you opened your trunk, and threw your bags inside. ( trying to go as slow as possible )

“hey- um.. do you think i could get your phone number? i was thinking we could maybe go out to eat or something sometime? maybe?” paige scratched the back of her neck, her ears flushing red. “um- yeah for sure!” you giggled, taking her unlocked phone from her hands and typing your number in. “thanks. today was fun. it felt nice to not have to worry about basketball for like five seconds.” paige rambled, looking down at her phone. “shoot, speaking of basketball. okay well, i’ll make sure to text you!” she waved, as she jogged off awkwardly to her car. you giggled at the blonde, sighing as you got into your car.

unknown

shoot, coach almost made me run for being late to practice. it was worth it though 😉

- thanks so much for reading all the way through! likes and reblogs are appreciated. click here to see my masterlist ���

- trying to clear out my inbox:)

[prettiestofpisces]

juju watkins x gf!reader

synopsis: you happen to be juju’s girlfriend and lash tech

fluff✨blurb

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

as juju’s six foot two form laid on your lash bed, you sat down in your swivel chair adjacent from the girls head.

to the right of you was your lash table which held all the materials you’d possibly need for judea.

“so how have you been baby?” you say swiftly playing with juju’s ears.

although you two were newly official, you both have such a tender spot for one another.

knowing each other, growing with each other since highschool, y’all were made incredibly close over the years.

sharing a kiss or two, prolonged cuddles… your relationship was beyond affection yet nothing contained a label at the time.

that was until senior year after learning you’d both be attending southern cal, juju decided to jump the gun. asking you to prom and later on to be her girlfriend

“mmm good…” she hums with her eyes closed.

“too many promotions, practices and flights.”

now your hands caress her cheeks yet you waited to respond.

“you just want some peace and quiet, i understand baby, keep talking to me if you’d like.”

you then alert juju you’re about to start and she, unknowingly yet conscious of something near her eyes, closed them tight without saying anymore.

you pumped a light foam soap over her lashes and began swirling it in, cleansing the hairs or anything foreign.

“what about you?” she spoke out suddenly.

“hm, well i’ve been busy with few clients, classes and missing you but!.. i watched you play kansas and saw you got roughed up” you giggled.

after said, game juju sported a subtle gash on her left cheek due to brutal play. juju never complained but you knew the mark bothered her.

“you can’t tell but i’m rolling my eyes” juju says with a wide smile, following with more banter.

you let out a final chuckle before rinsing off her eyes and proceeding.

after drying you lay tape down on her bottom lashes to secure them and a large piece for your markings and mapping.

“whispy cat eye right ju?”

“yeah ma” she responds so sweetly.

a minute passes as you’re finishing up writing little numbers across the tape you’ve placed and now you’re able to begin lashing.

pluck a singular extension, dip it in glue, place it on a single lash and wait. a simple process yet very demanding.

you hum along to the rnb tunes in the background, filling the silence and soon enough, you hear the subtle snores of the girl in front of you.

as time ticks, it’s been 45 minutes and you’re finished with the left eye moving over to her right.

Please sprout, offer me your tulips

On my fate

You gon' be my blessing tonight

So keep your eyes wide…

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.

and… you’re done.

slowly lifting the tape from jujus soft skin you crumble the pieces and toss them away. her sleeping form calm and content, you kiss her cheek to wake her.

“ju… baby, i’m finished” you whisper close to her ear. once her eyes flutter open you take it upon yourself to kiss her again, this time two pecks.

juju does a quick stretch of all her joints and crains her arm back hold your face against her own. turning her head to the right she embraces you both in a kiss, an oddly awkward perpendicular kiss but one with so much passion nonetheless.

after releasing, juju takes a deep breath and lets go of you all together.

“thank you” she draws out groggily. sliding off the table as you both stand up from your still positions. her tall lengthy frame towering over you like before.

juju looking rather seductive with her new stare. you stare up at her in return admiring you work, the lashes which accentuate her eyes so nicely, making your own dilate. you couldn’t help yourself.

“you’re so pretty” you squeal before juju pulls you into her chest ever so gently. loving the feeling of comfort you tighten the hug whilst still gazing at one another.

“what are you doing tonight?” your question filled with anticipation.

“staying here with you” juju harps, her blatant statement taking you by surprise yet you were more than okay with it.

“i love when you’re around.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆..°

and scene.

sorry i’ve been away, sigh..

just a sophomore in college what can i say however i hope you like this little blurb, its very rushed but i just wanted to post bc postings fun.

muah.

[cosmerelists]

Should You Invite These Cosmere Characters to Boardgame Night?

As requested by anon. :)

I've done two boardgame-related posts before this (I love boardgames): Favorite Boardgames of Each Knights Radiant Order and Should You Invite the Shards to Boardgame Knight?

In this list, allow me to provide some advice about whether or not you should invite these Cosmere characters to your next boardgame night!

1. Adolin: Yes

Adolin is a delight at every social gathering. He brings wine that somebody at the store told him was good. He has fun with every game whether he wins or loses. By the end of the night, he is somehow the best friend of each individual guest.

2. Shallan: Yes

Is she cheating? Maybe. But she makes a lot of puns and you know that if she tries to cheat TOO much, Radiant will stop her.

3. Kaladin: No

He wins everything. It's annoying. He joined Settlers of Katan twenty minutes late and STILL won. How does he do it???

4. Kelsier: Yes

At first you were admittedly intimidated, as Kelsier kept smiling to himself and saying things like "Just wait until I reveal my Master Plan!" But actually, he kinda loses games...a lot. Keeps smiling, though, so you assume he's having a good time! What a good sport!

5. Vin: Only if you like losing

Like Kaladin, Vin wins all. the. time. But unlike Kaladin, she doesn't come late & then win in a blaze of sudden glory, no. She simply...destroys you. Continuously and brutally for the entire night.

6. Harmony: No

No offense to Harmony, who's a good dude 'n' all, but man, he takes FOREVER to make his next move. It's like--we're playing Sorry. You either move forward 10 or back 1. It's just two choices! How is he thinking for like 10 billion years??

7. Lopen: Maybe

Lopen likes to play around and tease people. He MAY mock you a little too much when your attempt to "Draw 2" him backfires and you find yourself drawing 8 cards in Uno... but other than that, he's a good time.

8. Blushweaver: Maybe

You didn't realize checkers even COULD be played as "Strip Checkers."

9. Tien: Yes

Tien is mostly concerned with making sure that everyone else is having a good time. Even after he gets killed during a round of "Werewolves," he continues to grin and encourage the rest of you to have a good time. W-Wait, why do you suddenly feel like crying?

10. Skar: Yes

Like Tien, Skar also seems chiefly concerned with making sure everyone else has a good time. Bonus: he's GREAT at explaining the rules!

11. Lightsong: Depends on how competitive you are

Ask yourself this: if there's a guy there who wins every game despite clearly and loudly not understanding the rules, would that be fun? If yes, then go for it. If no, then don't invite Lightsong--he doesn't understand how to play Hearts and he doesn't care to, yet he has shot the moon TWICE.

12. Nale: No

No one likes a rules lawyer.

13. Shai: Yes

Shai knows all of these obscure, complicated games that actually turn out to be really fun!

14. Hoid: No

Hoid knows all of these obscure, complicated games and while he does explain the rules, you can't shake the feeling that he's actually playing by an entirely different set of rules that he's not being totally honest about...

15. Elend: Yes

Elend was born to participate in board game nights weekly.

16. Telsin: No

She cheats 100% of the time. You didn't even know it was POSSIBLE to cheat in Connect 4, but she somehow found a way...

17. Raboniel: Well...

Raboniel is ENORMOUSLY competitive and cares very deeply about winning...but she also respects the game. She is surprisingly gracious about losing despite her eyes blazing with the heat of ten million suns as she slapped down that 7-letter word in Scrabble. Yet when you responded with your own, better 7-letter word, clinching the victory, you could tell that she respected you for it.

...But on the other hand, you've been clammy with fear sweats for 45 minutes now.

[3rdgymbros]

━ 𝐈𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐬.

— pairing; michael kaiser x blue lock manager! reader

— summary; in which you visit kaiser in germany when you finally get a break. set in the blue lock manager au.

— warnings; mentions of cheating, fwb relationship (between kaiser and the reader)

— notes; this is the most filthy thing i've ever written and it's bc of that damn leak of kaiser in that damn robe. please donate to my kofi if you like my work. and know that i am mentally smooching everyone who reblogs my stuff.

❋ After Blue Lock’s win against the U20 team, there’s a short downtime; but you’re not so naive to think that this break is a reward for a job well done.

❋ No, Ego’s definitely plotting something.

❋ But while Ego plans the next phase of the programme, the boys are dismissed temporarily, and you’re also granted a short vacation before Ego’s inevitable call summons you back to Japan.

❋ Which is how you find yourself in Germany, lured there by the promise of a good time and the chance to see Kaiser again.

❋ The days pass by in a blur of stolen moments.

Pushing you up against the wall in dark alleys or deserted balconies, kissing you breathless even as you try to pull away to remind him that you’re in public. Late-night drives in his sleek sports car, when the streets are shrouded under the cover of darkness. He’ll park somewhere secluded, away from prying eyes, and the air in the car grows heated, his lips and hands frantic as he presses you against the window pane, fogged up by your mingling breaths and the heat of your bodies. Lazy mornings in his apartment, the smell of coffee filling the air as you lounge about and watch Kaiser get dressed for morning practice. Nights are hot and pass quickly in a haze of lust and need, marked by Kaiser whispering utterly obscene things to you in German, while you cling to him as you come undone, sweaty and flushed and shaking.

❋ There’s a certain thrill to be found in your illicit affair. Avoiding the paparazzi hungry for a glimpse of Kaiser’s personal life, and most of all, his current girlfriend, a beautiful actress with a statuesque body. She isn’t exactly someone he cares for deeply, but the media eats up their picture-perfect romance.

❋ One particular morning (or maybe afternoon — it’s easy to lose track of time whenever you’re with him), you’re curled up in his bed, tangled in silk sheets, your breath coming easy as you sleep, tired out from the previous night’s activities.

❋ The sun filters through the curtains, illuminating the chaos of the bedroom: Kaiser, very much awake, his golden hair a tangled mess, the faint marks on his neck, the angry red scratches down his back, and the smug satisfaction radiating off him in waves.

❋ You’re roused into wakefulness when Kaiser’s phone buzzes insistently from its place on the nightstand, and you look at him through hooded, lazy eyes. Throwing off the sheet to reveal the smooth, toned skin of his still-naked body, his voice dripping with a mix of irritation and curiosity as he answers the call.

❋ When Noel Noa’s voice carries through faintly, you can already guess what’s happening. Kaiser’s instantly on alert: his sharp eyes blazing with excitement, his smile a savage, predatory one as he paces the length of the room, reminding you of a lion on the hunt for prey. It’s the kind of look that promises chaos, and you know instantly: that your boss has made his move.

❋ About time, really.

❋ “Good news?” You ask groggily, stifling a yawn as you prop yourself up on one elbow.

❋ Kaiser saunters over to the bed, that dangerous, electrifying energy still lingering about him. He leans down, brushing a hand through your hair. “Your precious Blue Lock just got a hell of an upgrade, and they want me in on it.”

[wildsupernova]

a secret gift.

prompt #3 on scealaiscoite’s christmas prompt list: “secret santa”

summary: another christmas spent with friends and loved ones means another annual secret santa celebration. but this year, steve has a special secret santa gift up his sleeve…

pairing: steve harrington x reader

word count: 3.5k

warnings: fluff, very mild sexual allusions

a/n: hey again everyone! i wanted to thank you guys so, so, so much for the love on my last christmas story. it was my first post back after a long hiatus and i wasn’t expecting to see it blow up like it did, but all of the reblogs really warmed my heart. this story was supposed to be uploaded on christmas, but time got away from me, so here it is a few days late. it’s not quite as good as i had hoped for, but it was an idea floating around in my head for a while, so i hope you guys enjoy. again, thanks so much for all the love on my last post, and thank you for reading this one! <3 — — nova

masterlist | prompt list

“Uhg, come on, do we really have to do this again?” Robin threw her head back on the back of the sofa, her skull slightly bouncing off the leather as she did.

“Yes, Robin, we’re doing this again.” Nancy shook the bowl full of little slips of paper in her hands for the third time, pulling one out and putting it in her lap. She passed the bowl to Jonathan, who also took one, and the chain continued until each person had a slip of paper. Robin was last to take hers, throwing the empty bowl on the small coffee table in front of her.

“But I hate Secret Santa.”

“It’s tradition, Robs.” You say with a smile, hiding your own slip of paper in your palm. “We’ve been doing it since high school.”

“Which is exactly why we should stop doing it. It’s so old.” The group laughs at Robin’s childlike tantrum, Eddie giving her a light smack to the back of the head.

Christmas time was something you cherished deeply, especially amongst your friends. Ever since you were a child, the magic of Christmas had always been something you held with you; the shimmering, multicolored lights wrapped around a freshly decorated tree, the smell of cinnamon mixing perfectly with the earthly scent of pine, and the way the sun shimmered opalescent as it beamed down on a fresh layer of snow. Christmas was a time to feel like a child again, no matter how old you were, and you would be damned if you would let Robin’s yearly tantrum ruin a 5 year long tradition.

You had been a late addition to the friend group you found yourself in now, not spending time together with everyone until your senior year at Hawkins High. You had kept to yourself for most of your high school career, not doing much in the way of extracurriculars or social activities. You had friends, of course, but none that spent much time going to parties or participating in sports, so your friendships never expanded much outside of the small circle of individuals you had known since middle school. At the beginning of your senior year, you had realized just how much you had missed out on, and vowed that you would put yourself out there more and make your own memories. So, when your new lab partner Nancy Wheeler invited you to a party at Steve Harrington’s house, you agreed, albeit with a small hesitation.

At the time, you wouldn’t have described your relationship with Nancy as being very close. It was primarily a professional one, with most conversations revolving around that day’s homework or the upcoming quiz at the end of the week. When you brought one of your favorite books to class one day, the conversation pivoted away from the usual topics, with Nancy noting that the book was also one of her favorites, and that she was happy to find someone who was willing to listen to her talk about it non stop. Soon enough, the conversations became more like the ones you had with your other friends, and that had led to Nancy inviting you to the party that weekend.

Being invited to a party at Steve Harrington’s house used to be the greatest honor anyone could achieve, but now it was something that was becoming increasingly rare. You’d never had any negative experiences with Steve during your shared years at Hawkins High; you were just in the right level of social standing where you were practically invisible to him and his old friends, so you’d never had any bad nor good experiences with him and those formerly in his circle. You’d heard that in recent years he’d changed his personality significantly from how he’d been at the beginning of high school, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t a bit curious to see the new and greatly improved Steve Harrington.

Party wasn’t exactly what you would have called the get together you attended that Saturday night. By technical standards, it was a party. Music, drinks, empty house, and room temperature pizza were all present, but what was missing was…the people. It didn’t take you long to realize that you hadn’t been invited to a party; you had been invited to a hangout amongst long term friends, which left you feeling just a little bit awkward.

That awkwardness didn’t last for much of the night, however, as Nancy introduced you to the rest of the group quickly. Her boyfriend, Jonathan, was rather quiet, shaking your hand and offering a nod of the head as introduction. Robin was much more upbeat and gave you a hug as her greeting, which her girlfriend Vickie quickly apologized for and introduced herself. The best way to put Eddie’s introduction was charming, grabbing your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it in a rather extravagant gesture, before he began profusely apologizing for it after realizing that it might have been a bit much. You just laughed it off and told him you appreciated it, which barely eased his conscience.

Then, there was Steve. It was visible that he was a different man than the one you knew from high school, like he had an aura around him that had shifted from a bright, overbearing yellow to a more soothing cool blue. He offered up a kind smile, ran a hand through his hair and unconsciously showed off the shiny watch on his wrist, and held his hand out for you to shake, which you took enthusiastically. You struggled to hold back the blush in your face when you saw his eyes just briefly sweep over your body, his grip on your hand firm as he shook and released it a few seconds later.

Needless to say, you were smitten from first glance at the new and improved Steve Harrington.

After that night, you became a permanent fixture in the friend group. At the start, you had felt like a 7th wheel, always left out of inside jokes and unsure of the context behind the many stories they told amongst each other. It didn’t last that way for long, however, as everyone was more than happy to go into explicit detail explaining the history of the joke or recounting tales that were always shared during get togethers. Naturally, as your friendship with everyone developed, you found yourself gravitating more and more towards Steve, and he seemed to be doing the same.

It became a regular occurrence that you and Steve would be left to hang out alone due to conflicts from the rest of the group. There were periods where Eddie was hardly around due to touring with his band, Nancy and Jonathan often cancelled in favor of date nights or work conflicts, and Robin and Vickie had perpetual band performances that left them unable to make plans. So, instead of canceling plans altogether, you and Steve decided to just hang out between the two of you, which became more and more charged the more nights you spent in each other’s company.

Nancy had been the one to pitch the idea of Secret Santa for Christmas that first year. You were still a fairly new addition to the group and didn’t know the others as well as they knew each other, and being the thoughtful person she was, Nancy didn’t want you to stress about finding Christmas gifts for everyone, so she figured Secret Santa would be the best way to not only give gifts, but also get to know the others with limited stress. You had ended up with Steve that first year, buying him an expensive watch that was far out of your budget, an item that, in retrospect, might have been an unconscious effort to make a good impression on him. Nancy had been the one to pull your name, gifting you a rare copy of the book that had led you to each other in the beginning.

As time went on, something between you and Steve seemed to shift that summer. There had been a tension building between you two for quite a while, but it finally broke after a particularly rough shift at Family Video. One moment, you were seated on the hood of his car in the parking lot talking him through his horrific encounters with various screaming customers, and the next his hands were all over you while his lips worked magic against your own.

You kept it quiet, unsure if what you were feeling was true romantic attraction or just a summer fling, but Steve decided to make it official that coming Christmas. It was your second year participating in Secret Santa as a group, and you had gotten Eddie that year, buying him a new guitar strap and set of guitar picks after his old ones finally broke. When you finally opened your Secret Santa gift, a small square box messily wrapped in bright red wrapping paper, you knew immediately that Steve was your Secret Santa. Inside of the box was a delicate silver necklace, a small teardrop shaped sapphire sitting in the center of the pendant hanging from the chain. That night was the night Steve had officially asked you to be his girlfriend, a proposition you happily accepted with a kiss.

The tradition of Secret Santa continued even when many of you had moved far from Hawkins, Indiana and started new lives, everyone somehow always able to make time to convene to celebrate the holiday. Nancy and Jonathan had moved to Chicago to pursue their collective journalism careers, spending their days with noses buried in books to get them through college. Corroded Coffin had kicked Eddie into stardom, with he and his fellow bandmates never staying in one place long enough to call it home, always on tour and playing new venues. Robin and Vickie had followed you and Steve to Indianapolis, beginning their own lives as college students. You and Steve moved into an apartment not far from your shared campus, with Steve working several odd jobs while remaining undecided on a major, finally finding his place in the education program after volunteering at the campus daycare for an event. Despite life always getting in the way, all of you consistently met for the annual Secret Santa, hosting the entire group at your house for the week leading up to Christmas.

“It’s not old, it’s a classic.” Robin rolled her eyes as Steve shared his defense for the tradition, earning him a small eye roll. He slung his arm over your shoulder and rested it on the back of the couch, yourself not seeing him subtly trade his slip of paper for the one Eddie was holding.

“Okay, everyone knows the rules. You have a week to find your gift, no tags, all wrapped in the same wrapping paper, and we exchange them on Christmas Eve.” Nancy folded up her paper and slipped it into her pocket, Robin letting out another groan of protest at her reminder of their rules. The room filled with quiet conversation as Steve looked down at the slip of paper in his hands, suddenly feeling the nerves he had been trying to push away for days fill up his chest.

A week later and the living room of yours and Steve’s small apartment is festively decorated for the upcoming holiday, the tree in the corner of the apartment covered in tinsel garland and the floor below is littered with brightly wrapped gifts. The Secret Santa gifts all sit in one corner, all wrapped in matching green and red striped paper, the bows tied on each one a different color to designate their intended recipient. You and the rest of the group sit huddled around the coffee table, drinks in hand and laughing about whatever crazy tour story Eddie was telling this time. Your fingers are wrapped around the stem of a wine glass as you sip absentmindedly from the merlot inside, and Steve sits next to you with his hand lightly resting on your thigh, his other holding the crystal glass of cheap whiskey that he’s been nursing the whole night.

“Okay!” Nancy claps her hands together, making Steve jump. You look up at him and raise a brow, but he just waves it off and gives you the ‘I’m fine’ look he always does. You don’t buy it, but decide to drop it anyway; he’s been on edge all week, but every time you ask why, he just brushes you off and assures you everything is fine. “We should get to the Secret Santa gifts while we’re all sober.”

“Please, I can’t listen to another minute of Eddie’s ramblings about getting drunk on tour.” Robin rolled her eyes and threw back the rest of the drink in her glass, swatting away Eddie’s hands as he tried to mess up her hair in retaliation.

Nancy was quick in passing out all of the gifts, having long memorized the designated ribbon colors that you all had set after the first year you had decided to use the same color wrapping paper and mixed up all the gifts. She handed you yours last, a messily wrapped box tied with green ribbon, and you placed it in your lap, almost immediately noticing how the shoddy wrapping paper had been taped down to the box. It was nearly identical to the way your Secret Santa gift from Steve three years ago had been wrapped, and you smiled a bit at the memory.

Once everyone had been handed their gifts, everyone took turns opening them. Nancy went first and opened her gift from Robin, a fancy new notepad and pen set for her internship at the paper. Jonathan got a new set of camera attachments from Eddie, Robin a new jacket from Nancy, Vickie a new hairpin from Jonathan, and Eddie had been gifted a brand new custom embroidered Corroded Coffin patch from Vickie. Eventually, it came around to you and Steve, where it became obvious that you had received each other for the Secret Santa exchange (if it hadn’t been obvious already).

Steve opened his gift from you first, ripping the paper off the rectangle shaped black leather box. When he opened it, inside was a golden ring hanging from a polished golden chain, just long enough to be able to fit over Steve’s head without much effort. Engraved inside the ring and placed in just the right way where it was visible, were the words ‘Merry Christmas, my love. Take this ring as a promise for many more.’

“I know it’s more expensive than what we normally do for Secret Santa gifts, but I wanted to get you something special this year. I haven’t pulled you for Secret Santa since that first year, so I figured I should get you something nice.” Steve pulled the necklace from the box, holding it delicately in his hands as if he were afraid to break it.

“It’s beautiful, sweetheart. I don’t even know what to say.”

“I know you’re a big fan of promise rings, considering you’ve bought me, like, five, so I figured it was time for you to have your own.”

“I love it, thank you.” Holding it tightly in his palm, Steve leaned over and pressed a long, soft kiss to your lips, throwing the chain over his head when he pulled away. “Hopefully my gift can match up to yours.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, you always know what to get me even if I don’t tell you-” Your words died in your throat after you pulled all of the wrapping paper from the box and removed the lid, eyes growing wide as they landed on the small velvet box lying perfectly in the center. You looked at Steve, still wide eyed, who simply nodded for you to open the box, your hand shaking as you removed it from the cardboard box and flipped open the lid.

Sitting inside the box was a beautiful shimmering engagement ring, diamonds inlaid in the silver that weaved around in a beautiful vintage pattern. A single large, oval shaped diamond sat in the center of the ring, the ring’s band weaving around it to frame it just perfectly like the center of a flower. You felt your heart beating out of your chest, and as you looked at the way the ring shimmered in the dim light, you had to remind yourself to breathe.

“It’s been three years since I first asked you to be my girlfriend, and it’s been the happiest three years of my life.” Steve’s voice shook with nerves as he spoke, and when you looked up to meet his eyes, his face had turned a bright red. “When I first met you, I think part of me always knew that this is where we would end up. You didn’t know any part of me except for my reputation, but you gave me a chance anyway, even when I’m sure everyone you knew was telling you not to. That summer, when we started all of this and tried to agree that it was never something serious, I kept replaying these images in my mind of what a life with you would be like. You were just so unbelievably easy to fall in love with. No matter what you did, I could feel myself falling deeper and deeper in love with you until I just couldn’t handle it anymore and had to have you, totally and completely. Three years ago, I asked you to be my girlfriend with a Secret Santa gift, so, three years later, I have to ask you something again.”

Steve slid himself off the couch slowly, bending down on one knee in front of where you sat on the couch. You could barely contain the smile spreading across your face, and it seemed to spread to Steve’s own as he found it hard to speak.

“Sweetheart, will you marry me?”

Instantly, you were furiously nodding your head, jumping into Steve’s arms and nearly sending him tumbling back into the coffee table. All of your friends shared a round of applause as you pressed your lips to Steve fervently, Eddie letting out a loud wolf whistle when the kiss got just a bit deeper. When you finally ran out of breath and parted from him, you let Steve slip the ring on your left hand, pulling him in for one more kiss.

When everything in the room finally died down and you found your spot back on the couch, sitting as close to Steve as you possibly could, you looked at the beaming smiles of your friends who all threw congratulations your way. As they did, a thought hit you.

“Wait, how did you guys make sure that Steve got me for Secret Santa?” Everyone in the room went silent. “You guys knew?”

“‘Course we knew! How else would we make sure that someone else didn’t pull your name?” Eddie clapped Steve on the back, earning him a playful swat in return.

“Eddie was the one who actually pulled your name, but we swapped cards last minute.”

“If it helps, they didn’t even tell me until right before we pulled names.” Robin crossed her arms over her chest, pouting like a child. “Said they didn’t trust me to keep the secret.”

“And you did phenomenally well.” Robin sent a glare towards Nancy’s condescending remark, but laughed it off quickly.

“When Steve told us what he wanted to do, of course we had to help him out.”

“Thank you guys, really. It took a lot of the stress off of me.” Steve looked around the room, sending a thankful smile to all of his friends.

“Of course, man. Anything for you two love birds.” Eddie stood from the couch and walked behind it, holding both you and Steve in a wide embrace over the back of the couch. After a semi-uncomfortable few minutes, Eddie made his way to the kitchen, rummaging through the refrigerator in search of…something. “Now, let’s celebrate. Who's up for some homemade gingerbread cookies?”

“Oh god, I’d better go help him before he burns down the whole building.” Nancy jumped to her feet, rushing towards the kitchen and screaming for Eddie to put down whatever he was holding.

You let the sounds of your friends surround you as you looked up at Steve, who was already staring down at you with the softest eyes you’d ever seen.

“Merry Christmas, Stevie.”

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.” Steve leaned down and pressed his lips against yours once again, your new engagement ring sparkling in the lamplight as you entwined your fingers with his own.

[citrusandrottefruit]

Diagnosed with Hanahaki, a genetic autoimmune disease, as a child, Steve has learned to live with it. Along the way, he finds a family and falls in love with Eddie. He is never cured, but he lives.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

The conversation with Jonathan and Nancy couldn't be called easy, but it was manageable enough for Steve to do it at a time that wasn't even planned. Maybe it was the lack of planning that made it easier, maybe it was the practice he'd been getting over the last few weeks. 

Jonathan apologized profusely, for the pictures he'd taken in '83, for the punch, and for having gotten together with Nancy before she and Steve had actually broken up. Nancy was a little more complicated. Her apologies only came after a lot of pointing out, about all the times she hadn't noticed what was going on with Steve, and she ended up feeling so bad and guilty that Steve almost had to console her.

Luckily, Jonathan had the good sense to try to hold back their emotional response for later, and they both tried to act normally. The next time they met, it was impossible for Steve to help but notice how worn out they both looked, with even bigger bags under their eyes than usual. So, they had to talk a second time, just to make sure that no, Hanahaki didn't start because of either of them and with everything related to the Upside Down happening, they were far from having caused his health to worsen.

It was a lie, but there was no point in wanting them to blame each other after all this time, especially just because of Hanahaki. Steve wished things between the three of them had been simpler, but the illness had nothing to do with it. And after all, compared to everything that had happened, it wasn't that important.

In the midst of all this, he kept talking to Eddie. He shared the fact that his parents' marriage seemed to have improved after his mother was diagnosed and he had never been able to understand that.

He told her how his mother seemed like the protagonist of a dramatic movie, always suffering with such elegance. He remembered one week, when she was bedridden at home, he had to get up very early to get her makeup and help her brush her hair, even though a nurse would come in later and do exactly the same thing.

When he asked about it, his mother said, “I don’t want to be seen like that, Steve.” 

At the time, he didn’t understand, but he was happy to be of service. Months later, when he was diagnosed, he remembered that day and was even more confused, because it was so tiring just to exist, how could he care how shiny his hair looked? When his cheeks were flushed and his lips were soft? 

It took him years to realize why it felt so good to try to take care of his appearance when there was so little he could do for his own body. It was comforting.

But he didn’t share that memory with Eddie. Not yet. 

He just kept talking about his parents. About how Mrs. Harrington liked to have romantic dinners regularly and she had mentioned about ten honeymoons. It was one of her favorite topics of conversation, and she especially loved trying new hobbies or even sports during those trips. His father was okay with it, just so she would be happy.

“I don’t think she wanted to be a mother, just my father’s wife.”

“Absurd!” Eddie exclaimed, anger hidden under theatrics. He let go of the steering wheel for a moment before gripping it tightly, pulling the van into the center of the correct lane. That day, Steve had his monthly checkup and Eddie asked to accompany him, promising a movie afterwards, in a neighboring city. “How could anyone choose your father over you?”

And there it was, once again, Eddie’s ability to make the wounds that Steve hadn’t even mentioned hurt less.

“It’s just that she’s always been in love with him. When I was a kid, I thought it was the most romantic thing in the world. I even wanted to have the same thing.” He laughed thinking about the absurdity of it. “To love so much that even if that person made me feel so much pain, they would also make me very happy.” Steve sighed, serious again. “But I still want someone who would stay with me on a romantic night or sleep in an uncomfortable chair in the hospital.”

Before Eddie had time to say anything, he turned up the volume of the music.

A few hours later, he confessed that Mr. Harrington was that person to his mother, but not in the right way. Because he indulged in his illness almost like a hobby, very involved in it until he was not around Mrs. Harrington and something else caught his attention. 

Steve noticed this when his father called and informed him, very casually, that she was in the ICU. He would spend a fortune to make her live well, yet he seemed barely able to realize that her life was in danger.

A few days later, with the test results in hand and feeling stronger, he invited the kids over for a movie night at his apartment. Hopper offered to help tell them and was so worried that he decided to spend the night at a diner when Steve refused. Joyce, less extreme, promised to be just a phone call away. 

Jonathan and Nancy weren’t there, because they all figured the kids would be less upset if it wasn’t obvious that they were the last ones to find out. 

Guys.” Steve clapped his hands together, then put them on his hips, standing in front of the TV. “I have an announcement to make.” 

“Are you serious?” Mike yelled. “We’re here for the movies!” 

“Shut up, idiot.” 

“We’re here for the movies,” Dustin interjected into the fight that was already starting to form between Max and Mike. “But we’re going to listen to Steve.”

“You’d hear it anyway, you know, we have three adults here to keep you brats in check.” Robin stood next to Steve and began clapping her hands until everyone was quiet. “Steve.” 

Then she went to join Eddie, who was standing behind the kids, silent and watchful. 

It was good to have them both there, someone to look at without letting himself be consumed by terror.

“This has nothing to do with the Upside Down, but it’s very important, so I’ve already talked to Hopper and Joyce too and I don’t want you to get upset, okay? I’m going to talk to everyone about this in the way I thought would make this easier.”

At this point, no one seemed more scared than Max or Dustin. Even Mike, who was trying to keep his expression irritated, looked worried and was the only one who had the courage to speak up.

“Why make such a mystery? Just say it.”

“I’m sick. Hanahaki.”

There were no more movies for the rest of the night, just tears, screaming and hugs. Max barely left Steve’s side and Dustin kept checking his pulse, as if he couldn’t see with his own eyes that Steve was alive. They also had to explain Hanahaki to El and she was so upset that she joined Max. Lucas did too, after a few minutes. He and Will were the quietest, looking too shaken to know how to react.

Dustin got irritated and started talking nonstop about the health care system. Eddie, finding resonance in Dustin’s feelings, also started roasting the pharmaceutical industry.

They all slept together, huddled together, in the living room.

In the middle of the night, Mike, having the same thought as his sister, asked if Nancy had anything to do with it and after being assured that she didn't, Steve realized that he would once again need to educate the people he loved about how Hanahaki really worked and about his family.

When everyone finally left in the early evening of the next day, he only had a few hours before he realized that he would probably need to have a walkie-talkie on him at all times, because everyone wanted to make sure he was okay.

The next time he and Eddie were alone together, Steve continued to talk.

It was a little embarrassed that he confessed that, although he had always wanted his parents’ love, he was relieved by the huge distance between them, because he wouldn’t have to worry about being the cause of his mother’s downfall. Because he couldn’t even imagine what it was like to be so loved by someone who had a disease so influenced by emotions. It seemed terrifying.

“I must be very selfish.”

“For wanting to preserve yourself? Everyone wants that, it’s not selfish, it’s human.”

“I didn’t give you that option.”

Eddie grabbed Steve by the shoulders so they were face to face.

“You did. You practically put a warning sign on your forehead. We all chose to stay here. Because you’re part of our lives and we love you, Hanahaki isn’t going to change any of that.”

Careful with every move he made toward Steve, Eddie leaned in until he could put his head in the crook of Steve’s neck, for the first time in a long time looking like he was the one who needed comfort.

Steve couldn’t describe how happy he was that he could still provide that and tightened his arms around Eddie.

“If it were up to me, you know where we’d be right now. You’re the one being so careful about this, so I don’t regret it. Don’t ever insinuate that you’re selfish for allowing us to feel the joy of being in your life.”

Steve didn't know if he could ever stop feeling guilty, but he would try.

One afternoon, when Steve came home from his shift at Family Video, he found Eddie standing at his door, a folder full of papers in his hand. He didn’t say anything, just waited for Steve to come in and followed.

“I did some research,” he announced and waved the papers. “Dustin helped me a lot, because he’s much better at research than I am.”

And Eddie launched into a somewhat confusing monologue about how 4.4 out of every 500,000 people had the Hanahaki gene and only a few of them actually had a real chance of developing the disease, and even in those cases, environmental factors were very important. In conflict zones, for example, the chances of acute and fatal manifestations were up to 300% higher than in other patients. 5 to 10% of carriers would be lucky enough to only have mild symptoms even under periods of intense stress, but without proper treatment, even those people would be at very serious risk.

Almost all of Hanahaki’s patients who survive the first two years require at least one transplant at some point in their lives. He talked about the complications, the lacerations of internal organs, the blood clotting problems, the cirrhosis, the hypertension, the encephalopathy.

“Steve, I said I’d do my research, and I did. I’m not a smart guy, not that smart.” He held up a piece of paper at random. “I’ve never been interested in medicine, and I’ve never been good at science, so there are some things I may not have understood that well, but I’ve learned a lot. I’m not going into this blind. I know what the expectations are here, I’m a grown man and I can make my own decisions. And I want you. I’ve wanted you, somehow, since high school, I wanted you when I saw how the kids adored you, I wanted you when you came to me even though everyone thought I was a murderer. I wanted you when I saw you take off your shirt, when you jumped in the lake, when you fought the Demobats, when you walked with me through hell. When you pulled me out of there. I’ve wanted you constantly, all the time, for all these months.” He took a deep breath. “I want you. I love you.”

Steve knew that no matter how happy he was, there would always be things that would hurt him. He would always have scars on his lungs, roots tangled in his ribs, internal bleeding, shortness of breath, injuries… There would always be a million problems, one after the other. Maybe he only had a few years left.

But Eddie knew that too. He knew that sometimes he would need to take care of Steve, and that he would need to learn to control his anger better, that he would always have to be careful when he communicated a problem, that he would need to offer reassurance and remind Steve that he was loved. He knew it would be hard. He knew the risk of coming out of this with a broken heart.

Even knowing the potential disaster, Steve kissed Eddie knowing it would be worth it.

[mcl-mymelody]

Hello :) Can you tell us (poor guys without VIP's account) about 11 episode with Jason?

sure! I'll just try to tell the Jason specific moments. Let me know if this is ok.

so you start by meeting him with the colleague of your choice at the Cozy Bear Cafe before the meeting with the art agents. If you select the right answer, you end up daring each other and the loser has to pay the winner dinner at a restaurant of their choice.

Long story short, I think that no matter what you do Golddreamz ends up winning the deal because they used other artists from Yael's portfolio instead of just Aster/Violette. The exhibition is themed like a labyrinth and Jason admits it's a reference to the moment you had with him at the fair, despite saying it sarcastically.

Jason sees you at the exhibition and asks you to follow him. Turns out he doesn't want to be mean and won't make you pay a very expensive restaurant. He changes the dare to instead paying for fine groceries and cooking at his place. He offers to cook himself.

He gets you in his car (opening the door for you) and you are lost in your thoughts so he ends up fastening your seatbelt. It's mentioned that his car is a sports car with a leather interior, and his perfume gets stronger when you are inside.

You go to a fancy grocery store and turns out he wants to cook "calamars a' l'armoricaine" (a mediterranean style dish with calamari in a tomato sauce). He chooses the ingredients making sure you notice he picks the good stuff. Once again he surprises you by not letting you pay the hefty bill, saying that he knows when to have fun and mock you and when to stop.

You get to his place, a loft on the eighth floor of a fancy building (maybe the same complex you visit with Amanda in ep 7??), and as he starts cooking you look around the flat. Sucrette is dumb and can't tell the difference between a unicorn and Pegasus and Jason and her get in a silly fight about it. He is very stern about not having a unicorn in his living room and his knowledge of mythology.

Jason opens the bottle of wine, and you look at the view. He says it's beautiful as he looks at you and points at the view he has of Goldreamz (the illu). Sucrette realises he knew what he was doing all along and this was a moment for them to get close again. She wants to kiss him but then he mentions Devenmentiel and she snaps back to reality.

Sucrette asks what's going and why they are together in his flat all of a sudden. Jason says he doesn't understand what she means, that they are not rivals, Sucrette just works for his rival. He says "things can change if we want them to change" and mentions again that they should "unite their talents" and collaborate. Sucrette says she doesn't understand if he is simply talking about work or more. Jason won't man up and confess so Sucrette runs away from his flat because she is scared of how messy things could get if they went further. But right before the episode ends, she wonders if it might be worth it anyway.

[nineteenninety-six]

Hi! I’m not sure if you write for the pesky blondes anymore but I loved all your word with them! Could you do one with daughter reader, who tries really hard at school or a sport (like comporting or winning lots of medals) to impress Tommy who is distant with her but end up giving up after a while because he doesn’t pay attention to it? And he only notices because Polly or another family member asks about and she goes “oh, I dropped it.” And they realize why and confront Tommy about it? It can end however you want otherwise, thank you!

AN: Hi, omg can you believe it's been almost 2 years since I last posted something and I have tried to write over the last couple years but I struggled. Anyway, hopefully this is good and you like it as it's been forever since I wrote and it's probably ooc since I haven't watched PB in forever either.

Born years before the war to a mother that died shortly after, and her father sent away to the war when she was still a child, YN’s relationship with her father was almost non-existent. She was too young to have any memories of him before he left and when he returned, he wasn’t the same man, a shell of his former self.

She had been mostly raised by her Aunt Polly even after her father and uncles return from the war and her father had his moments of trying to be involved with her life but those moments never lasted long, usually inspired by some near death moment that reminded him of the preciousness of life before he pulled himself into some other sort of all encompassing drama that had him disappearing from her life for months on end.

YN was eager for her fathers acknowledgment, not even approval but the mere recognition of her existence and so she decided to try and prove herself to him, to show how smart and what a good daughter she was.

Things changed when Charlie was born and her father married Grace but once again that didn’t last once Grace died as her father disappeared once again and she was left at Arrow House with her baby brother and the house staff and so she focused on helping the staff with Charlie and studying hard at school, getting some of the highest grades in her year but even that did not capture the attention of her father and so she tried something else.

⋅───⊱༺ ��� ༻⊰───⋅

“Horseback riding?” Her father glanced up at her from his seat behind his grand desk in his office.

“They offer it to year ten and I thought…” YN nodded, referencing the expensive elite private school that her father sends her to.

Her father pursed his lips and sighed, “You have more than one bloody horse out there…”

YN glanced out of her window to the vast paddocks and fields that surrounded Arrow House before turning her focus back to her father, “It’s not the same father. You rarely allow me to take Sweetcorn or Biscuit out for rides and you certainly don’t allow me to have a hand in their care but at school I’ll learn how to ride and compete with them along with taking care of them”

Her fathers gaze was heavy but she did not buckle under its weight.

”And what about your other classes? Tennis, ballet, swimming, golf…”

YN paused at the mention of the extra classes she was participating in, not even realizing her father knew but she guessed that since he was paying for everything he had to.

“Well, I’ve been managing with my classes so far, what’s one more” YN shrugged, shooting her father almost a sheepish smile

Tommy watched her for a few more moments before he sighed and signed her permission slip before holding it out for her, “If this is what you wish”

YN grabs the slip with a thankful smile, hoping that this is what will hopefully get her father to become more involved in her life.

”Thank you, father”

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

YN scanned the crowds looking for her father, her eyes darting from left to right, eyes peeled wide open as if it would help her find the brooding brummie but to no avail, but she did see her younger brother, her aunt and her uncles all cheering from her in the stands not far her and while she smiled and waved back at them her heart sunk at the non-appearance of her father.

Here she was at a national competition, competing against the best in the country, yet her father was nowhere to be seen. A whole year of hard practice, six days a week along with juggling her other sports and school, to try and impress her father and he hadn’t even bothered to show his face.

Feeling eyes on her, YN looked around and found her aunts scrutinising eyes on her and so not to arouse suspicion, YN swallowed the bitter taste in her mouth and sent her aunt a smile that she was sure that the older woman did not believe for a single moment, before turning around and heading to her stall where her trainer was waiting for her.

Two hours later and still no sign of her father, YN stood at the top of the podium with her trophy in one hand, bouquet in the other and a grin forced on her face after she won and she kept her eyes on her younger brother, on his bright smile and loud cheers and not on the space that should contain their absent father.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

Christmas Day at Arrow House was always a grand event with all of YN’s uncles, aunts and cousins travelling to Warwickshire on Christmas Eve to start their annual celebration and though YN was quite a bit older than her cousins, she enjoyed spending time with them anyway.

The whole family sat around the large table in the dining room, everybody talking over each other and YN was brought out of conversation with her aunt Ada by her aunt Polly asking a seemingly innocent question.

”YN, when is your next ballet recital? The last one was a joy to watch.”

YN took a nervous sip of her water before she answered, “Oh, I um stopped ballet.”

Polly look at her in surprise as Esme chimed in,

“Oh with all the extracurriculars you do I’m surprised you managed to keep up with everything at once”

“I dropped those too…I’ve dropped all my sports.” YN murmurs, “Figured it’s best to focus on school and my studies only”

All of the adults at the table had overheard what she had said and were in an uproar. It was well known how much YN loved her sports and competing, so to hear that she was suddenly quitting made no sense.

”Whaddya mean 'quitting'?!" Arthur asked, his voice carrying loudly.

”Well good exam results will take me to university, so I’ve decided to focus on that only” YN tried to explain.

”You’ve never had any problems with balancing it before, why now?” Polly asked.

YN’s eyes flicker up to her fathers face, no-one catching it other than her aunt Polly.

”Classes are getting harder”

That’s all YN had to say before she changed the conversation topic to something other than her.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

Polly made her way into Tommy’s late into the night that evening, knowing the man barely slept and would be up and in his office.

“Are you planning on talking to your daughter?” Polly asked as she settled in the seat opposite her nephew.

Tommy raised a curious eyebrow as he poured his aunt a glass of whiskey and passed it over to her, “About?”

“Quitting all of her sports…?”

”Yeah well you heard her, she wants to focus on school”

Polly huffs a disbelieving sigh, disappointed in Tommy,

”When was the last time you saw that girl struggling with her workload hmm? Not to mention the countless amount of times she’s helped out with Charlie on top of everything else she does”

Tommy paused at her words, realising that he hasn’t really paid YN any attention recently.

“When was the last time you even went to one of her shows, competitions or award shows hm?” Polly drilled him, “This girl of yours is amazing and you’re ignoring her Tommy”

“I’m not ignoring her!” Tommy became defensive, “She almost an adult, she can do what she wants”

”Don’t you see it?!” Polly’s patience wears thin as she snaps at her nephew, “You barely spent any time with her when she was a mere child and still now you don’t! You hardly know the girl while she’s stretching herself thin trying to prove herself and you don’t even pay her enough attention to realise!”

Tommy was left speechless at the rightful telling off he had received as after all, Polly was correct.

Tommy barely spent time with YN when she was younger and as the years went by he spent even less. Stilted conversations over dinner was their relationship and he had no one but himself to blame.

“I-I didn’t…” Tommy stumbled over his words as he tried to settle the thousands of thoughts that were racing through his mind, “I didn’t think to…”

Polly stood up and faced her nephew, “This is your last chance. After tonight, the door that she has kept open for many years will be closed and locked with the key thrown away. You have one chance Tommy, do not squander it.”

With that, Polly left Tommy’s office, hoping that her words spurred him into action.

Tommy didn’t wait long before he was speeding out of his office and darting upstairs to his daughters room hoping and praying that she was still awake and when he knocked on her door and she called him in, the slightest of weights was lifted off of his shoulders.

“It’s me,” He announced, poking his head past her door.

Surprise flashed over YN’s face as his appearance as she beckoned him in, sitting up straighter as she placed the book she was reading to the side.

“Is something wrong?”

“I wanted to speak about what happened at dinner” Tommy took a seat on the edge of YN’s bed, “About you dropping your extra classes”

“It’s nothing” YN tried to dismiss it. “Just thought I should focus on school more so I can get into a good university, that's all”

“YN, you’re the smartest person I know” For the first time in a long time, Tommy spoke to YN one to one, in hopes that this conversation will be the first step in repairing their relationship, “Not only that but you are the most talented and hardworking person I know.”

YN paused for a moment after he finished before she spoke up, “Yet you never attended an award ceremony or performance or competing…how am I meant to know how you feel? …I did all of this to get a sliver of your attention, always hoping that one, just one of the many things I laden myself with would finally be the thing that’ll make you pay attention to me and you can’t even be bothered to show when it matters”

“I know nothing I can say to fix what I have done but all I ask for is one more chance and most of all, don’t give up on the things you love, not for me, not for anyone. Ever.”

Tommy knew words would not mend the hurt he has caused his daughter over the years but he hoped that she would give him this one last chance to fix it through his actions and behaviour.

YN takes a deep breath and nods, “One last chance”

[eyneyke]

Caught red handed

Pairing: Max Verstappen x PewDiePie!sibling Summary: What if Felix had a genius brother who works as a RedBull's engineer and is also secretly dating Max part 11 of A Calm to my Storm Masterlist

It was a late afternoon at the Red Bull Racing garage after a successful quali. The atmosphere buzzed with excitement as the team celebrated their latest pole. Max and Sam had taken a moment to step away from the hustle, retreating to a quieter corner where they could enjoy each other’s company without the watchful eyes of the world.

As they shared soft kisses, wrapped up in their own little world, the sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway. Checo Pérez and Christian Horner entered the garage, engaged in conversation about the race and its outcome. They walked toward the area where Max and Sam were, oblivious to the couple’s presence.

Suddenly, Checo paused mid-sentence, his eyes widening. He nudged Christian, who turned to see what had caught Checo’s attention. The sight of Max with his hands tangled in Sam's hair, their lips pressed together, sent a wave of surprise through both of them.

Christian clears his throat while Checo speaks. “Uh… guys?” Checo exclaimed, raising an eyebrow.

Max and Sam pulled apart instantly, their faces flushed with heath. Max’s eyes darted to Checo and Christian, trying to gather his thoughts. Sam’s cheeks turned bright red, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

Christian stepped forward, a playful smirk on his face. “Well, well, well... Looks like we’ve stumbled upon a little secret, haven’t we?”

Max sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Uh, hey, guys. This isn’t what it looks like…” Sam gives him a look that screams 'You are not fooling anyone' and then looks back at Christian and Checo with a slight smile.

Checo couldn’t help but laugh. “Really? Because it looks like you two were getting pretty cosy.”

Max cleared his throat, trying to regain some composure. “We were just—uh—talking about car designs. You know how it is.”

Christian chuckled. “Sure, car designs. That’s what they call it these days.”

Max shot him a glare, but it was light-hearted. “Fine, you caught us. But can you blame us? It’s been a long week.”

Checo raised his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, no judgement here. It’s great to see you two fineally got your act together. Just… maybe not in the here in the garage next time? You know the garage filled with the cameras? If you are not trying to get caught, of course.”

Max laughed, a bit relieved. “Right, noted. We’ll keep it out of the public area of the garage.”

Sam finally found his voice, turning to Christian. “I hope this doesn’t change anything with my job. We didn’t mean for anyone to find out like this but we have been together for a while now and we are working even better than before.”

Christian shook his head, a warm smile on his face. “Don't worry Sam, you guzs are good. As long as it doesn’t affect Max’s performance on the track or yours in the garage, we’re all for it. Just keep it a bit more discreet. We don’t want the media getting wind of this before you two are ready and want to come out.”

Checo grinned, crossing his arms. “Just think of the headlines: ‘Max Verstappen’s Secret Weapon—His Hot Engineer!’”

Max rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t suppress his smile. “Thanks for the support, guys. Really. And I promise to keep it under wraps… at least until we’ve won the championship.”

With that, the tension in the air eased, and the group shared a laugh. Checo clapped Max on the shoulder before walking away, teasingly calling back, “Just keep those hands to yourself in the garage!”

Christian lingered a moment longer, looking between the two. “Just remember, this team is like family. We support you and all that. So if you ever need anything or advice on how to navigate this, just let me know. I’ve seen my fair share of relationships in this sport and many more burn just because the couple couldn't communicate.”

As Christian headed out, Sam turned to Max, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Guess the secret’s out now.”

Max chuckled, leaning into Sam’s side. “At least they took it well. I was worried about how they’d react. I'm just happy Christian took it well. God knows my actual dad wouldn't.”

Sam kissed the top of Max’s head, his heart swelling with affection. “We’ll figure it out together. And for the record, I don’t mind the world knowing about us, as long as we’re happy.”

With renewed energy, they returned to their post-race celebrations, ready to tackle whatever came next—together.

[bibibbon]

Happy Xmas (belated) and a joyful new year.

Its not necessarily about besties au but I saw a post about rewriting Inko to have a life and I agree (through my issue is not "oh Inko has no job" she could have been stay at home mom if she was a character and not whatever the fuck canon gave us)

In besties ...the more I think, the more I want to distance Inko from fanon. Many make her a lawyer or a nurse. My Inko was a baseball player. She was good but stopped bc she wanted to form a family with the man she loves.

This is not super relevant but ...I did mentioned before how Inko IS so anger at Aldera. One thing I don't I see in many fics is make Inko angry on Izu's behalf. My Inko is so mad...she has the bat. She is having dark thoughts

"it's oc of her to be like that" if this was a regular day, I would agree. I think Inko learning how her daughter was suffering and she didn't do anything stings, a lot.

I want to make her an athlete bc the whole "oh yeah teens beating each other is bigger than Olympics" it's bs....and imagine if people recognize Inko. She was a great player...she steps down to have a family (her husband passes away and her daughter was abused) I know I didn't put that in the chapters so far but it can still be added....Miss Curious is digging (along with Shoto)

I think it's bc AM and his "divorce" clouded anything else.

My question is: make Inko a almost famous baseball player (she could have been a big deal, she plays some championships here and there) could work? A sort of bittersweet feeling..."see Izumi, there life outside the hero world"

Hi @mikeellee 👋

Happy holidays to you as well!!

The truth is Inko has no other purpose in Canon other than being Izuku's mother, and even with that, the woman is barely present and is presented as incredibly neglectful to her only child's needs and wants.

You can argue this is why horikoshi states that he feels bad whenever he draws inko. Now, I know that MOST MHA parents introduce within the series don't get major roles and we don't see deep insights to their lives but there are a lot that do like kotaro shimura, the todoroki parents and heck even bakugo's parents get more insight than Inko herself.

Personally, I would expect Inko to have more screentime and development because she is the MC's mother. She is important within the series, but I guess it's not utilised or ever expanded on by horikoshi.

Again, I agree the problem isn't that inko doesn't have a job, but she doesn't have a life outside of izuku. She doesn't have a character outside of izuku, and it's infuriating.

Personally, I think making Inko a formerly up and coming great baseball player is such a good hint and would add so much to her character on so many levels.

What I mean by this is that Inko, being a baseball player, would show that she had goals, ambitions that she succeeded at, it would show where her fast reflexes mixed with her float quirk come in to help her in day to day activities, it would show that there is a world outside or heroics and how heroics is negatively impacting other entertainment industries such as sports which inko used to work in. This would also show that Inko left a mark in the world.

Her retiring young and starting a family because she wants to is incredibly realistic and interesting for her because inko does seem like a lonely character who wants to be surrounded with people and a family, its why she cares for izuku so much even if she may not be the best mother.

Inko being overprotective over izuku or angry in this case isn't actually OOC because the series does lamely try and show inko being mad at UA and trying to protect izuku even if that plot point ends nowhere.

I'm checking back chapter 96 and gosh that page where Inko says that it may have been better for her child to stay quirkless adds so much to her character and the depth she could have had. Inko sees the reality of heroics and she so desperately doesn't want her son to head down that path but inevitably he does and if we assume that inko was watching the screen during chapter 419 than we can assume she saw her son with limbs detached dragging himself across the battlefield to keep fighting to do something.

[neeksparksg]

Sparks in conflict

The chill of the desert night was a sharp contrast to the simmering tension between the two Autobots as they sped across a desert. Arcee’s sleek blue motorcycle form hummed softly beside you, her engine purring like a cat. Your own form, a sports car with deep (f/c) detailing that glinted under the dim moonlight. You could feel her optics on you even now, filled with distrust and frustration.

“This is ridiculous,” Arcee muttered through the comms, her tone cutting like a blade. “I don’t understand why Optimus paired us together.”

“Believe me, it’s not my idea of a good time either,” you replied coldly, trying to keep your irritation in check. “I’d rather be anywhere but here, babysitting your self-righteous spark.”

“Babysitting? I’m the one in charge of the mission, don’t forget that you cold-constructed con,” she snapped. “You shouldn’t even be here. Optimus made a mistake by allowing you to stay”

Your grip on the metaphorical wheel tightened. It was obvious that the autoboots weren’t happy with working with you, but at least most of them have the decency to keep their discomfort to themselves but Arcee had always been vocal about it “I am no decepticon” you said with clear anger on your voice

“Doesn’t change what you are,” Arcee shot back. “You’re a weapon. A Decepticon-designed killing machine. With no regard for innocent lives, and no concept of loyalty, I don’t trust you not to try and kill us when Megatron gives the order” she say as both of you arrive at your destination changing into you alt forms

 “you know what?” you said with a smile of anger on your Faceplate “I may be a cold-constructed Freak as you so graciously remind me everyday, I may have been forged to serve the decepticons, but that doesn’t make you better than me” as you talk you walk closer to her, “Because unlike you I keep my partners Alive”

The silence that followed was to say the least uncomfortable. you could feel the weight of your words. Her optics glaring at you, she was seconds away to lose it

“Shut up” Arcee hissed, her voice low and venomous.

“or what? You are going to make sure I join the ongoing list of partners that have died at your side?” you teased, perhaps it wasn’t the best idea but you were tired of the autobots attitude towards you

Before she could respond, a blast went off close to the two

“Decepticons” you said, shifting towards the upcoming vehicons “Looks like this conversation have to wait"

Arcee didn’t respond, she just ready her weapons and start fighting back, that was all confirmation you needed.

---

The battlefield was chaos. Blaster fire lit up the dark sands, explosions illuminating the silhouettes of the Vehicons. You moved with precision, every shot and strike calculated, dispatching Vehicons was just to easy to you, you knew their maneuvers and tactics, you knew how to fight them it was one of the few things Shockwave made you do as training once you were completed. Arcee was a blur, her blades slicing through the enemy ranks with practiced ease. Yet, even in the heat of battle, the tension between you two lingered.

“Behind you!” you called, firing a shot that narrowly missed her shoulder to take out a drone creeping up behind her.

“I didn’t need your help!” she snapped, spinning to cut down another attacker.

“Could’ve fooled me,” you retorted, dodging a missile and returning fire.

Another wave of drones descended, forcing the two of you to fight back-to-back. Despite the hostility, your movements were synchronized, Yet, the argument continued, woven into the chaos.

“You know,” Arcee grunted as she drove her blade into a drone, “no matter how much you try, you’ll never be an autobot.”

“Funny,” you said, kicking a drone aside and firing point-blank into its chest. “Because I don’t remember asking for your approval. All I want is a bit of trust”

“You don’t get it,” she snarled, blocking an incoming strike. “We’ve fought your kind for eons. Trust isn’t something you can just earn overnight.”

“They are not my kind,” you shot back, your voice rising as you tore through another Vehicone, with perphaps more violence than needed. “I left behind everything I knew, I betrayed those who created me, risking everything to fight for something better. I'm nothing like them”

“Then prove it!” she shouted, her voice filled with frustration and pain.

“I’ve been proving it every day since I joined!” you yelled, the heat of the argument nearly drowning out the sound of battle. “But maybe you’re just too blinded by your own Prejudice to see it.”

The moment your words left your vocal processor, the ground shook as a Decepticon brute landed nearby, swinging a massive hammer. The force of its strike sent both you and Arcee flying. You hit the ground hard, your systems sparking in protest. Arcee wasn’t as lucky, a jagged piece of debris piercing her side as she landed.

“Arcee!” you shouted, scrambling to your feet.

“Stay back!” she hissed, her optics flickering as she tried to rise. The brute loomed over her, hammer raised for the killing blow.

Without thinking, you launched yourself at the Decepticon. The brute was tough, but a well-placed shot to its head, the brute crumpled to the ground.

Breathing heavily, you turned back to Arcee. She was slumped against a rock, energon pooling beneath her. Her optics narrowed as you approached.

“Don’t—” she started, but her voice faltered as pain overtook her.

“Shut up, You rust-headed glitch” you snapped, kneeling beside her. “I’m not letting you die out here.”

She flinched as you carefully examined her wound, her expression a mix of anger and reluctant acceptance. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I do,” you said firmly, activating your repair tools. “Whether you like it or not, we’re on the same side now.”

Arcee grimaced but didn’t protest further, her optics fixed on you as you worked. The silence between you was heavy.

“Why?” she finally asked, her voice softer than before. “Why do you care?”

You paused, meeting her gaze. “I told you, I keep my partners Alive” you said quietly. “even you.”

For the first time, Arcee didn’t have a sharp reply. Instead, she simply nodded, the faintest hint of gratitude in her optics.

---

By the time the groundbridge open, Arcee was leaning heavily on you, her injuries slowing her down. When the rest of the team arrived, they looked between the two but no one said anything.

As the Ratchet rushed to tend to Arcee, she glanced back at you. “Maybe... maybe I was too harsh on you” she admitted reluctantly.

“Maybe,” you said with a small, tired smirk. “and Maybe I was a bit out of line with what I said”

Arcee huffed a faint laugh, the first sign of something other than disdain since you’d met her. It wasn’t a perfect resolution, but it was a start. And for now, that was enough.

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Thank you, this covers several other things that I thought about that information! I was thinking about that page from the Daily Show book (a page I only know about because you took that picture and shared it some time ago) - the page that confirms that it is true that Ricky Gervais was involved in getting John Oliver the Daily Show job, though if I were John, these days I'd be backing Demetri Martin's claim that it was actually him who got John the job, even if there's no truth in it.

That page was the first time I learned that Andy Zaltzman was on The Daily's Show's radar at all, but as you say, there's nothing in that book that says Andy actually auditioned as well. I'd just been assuming they went to watch Zaltzman and Oliver perform as a double act, and of the two of them, John was the guy whom they decided to call in for an interview. Probably because... I know John Oliver isn't the most Hollywood-style/conventionally handsome man in the world, but he looks more telegenic than Zaltzman. Also, John Oliver's humour does tend to be a bit more grounded and accessible, while Zaltzman's the one doing the wildly convoluted flights of bullshit fancy. So I can see how TV people who watched them both perform would decide that John's the guy they want.

But the information that they both auditioned is new. I'm now seeing this through my lens as someone who was in highly competitive sport for many years - because I've already made it clear that I find it nearly impossible to describe the Zaltzman/Oliver dynamic without descending into sports metaphors. And it's because so much about how they work together reminds me of what I've seen from the very best teammates/training partners in sport, ones who bring out the best in each other and push each other to become better athletes. Ones who know each other's styles so well that each style have to evolve and adapt in order to respond to the other, their matches with each other reach deeper levels of the sport than anything else, just because they've learned how to get past each other's basic responses and they both end up finding new ideas.

In all my years as a competitive athlete and then as a coach to competitive athletes, one thing I learned is that when you have two teammates/training partners in a relationship like that, the worst thing that can happen is they get pitted against each other in a competitive situation. You want those people tearing each other to pieces in the practice room, but in a tournament, competing in different divisions so they can cheer each other on. If one beats the other when it actually matters, the friendship rarely survives, and the training relationship takes a big hit. They stop being able to work well together in practice, because they're trying to hurt each other instead of improve each other. And even if they try to go on as they did before, the bitterness comes out and messes with it.

...I am aware that Andy Zaltzman and John Oliver are not competitive athletes. But relationships like the ones I've just described are so common, and as a coach, trying to preserve relationships like that, even in the face of competition, is a big part of my job. Which may be part of why I find comedy dynamics like those described in article from the beginning of this post so interesting, the double act where both people make each other more than the sum of their parts, until it all implodes.

Point being, I already knew that the fact that the Zaltzman and Oliver working relationship lasted for so long despite the massive fame disparity means Andy Zaltzman is a saint who's largely resistant to the natural human bitterness response (not 100% immune to it, as evidenced when John Oliver finally left The Bugle, but Andy's good humour held on for a long time before that). But if they both auditioned together for a life-changing opportunity, and only of them got a callback? By rights, that working relationship should have imploded in 2006.

I realize that reading all this stuff into the situation between two people I've never met is incredibly parasocial of me, by the way. I don't have a good justification or mitigation for it, or anything. I just want to acknowledge that I know. Sorry. I would try to avoid getting too parasocial about Chocolate Milk Gang-era Zaltzman and Oliver, but I think that ship's sailed long ago, I'm leaning into it now.

Anyway, @lastweeksshirttonight, I also want to know whether they were auditioning to be the first double act on The Daily Show, or whether they knew they were both competing for a single spot. What a shame that I didn't come across this article until after it was too late to submit questions for the Zaltzman/Oliver 2024 Bulge Q&A. Which is coming out this weekend, and I'm sure we'll all be a normal and non-parasocial amount of excited about it.

I just came across the article today, and the whole thing is very interesting. I highly recommend reading it all, to anyone who's interested in the history of British comedy double acts. It's basic stories that I did already know - Cook and Moore, Lee and Herring, Newman and Baddiel, French and Saunders - but it juxtaposes them in a way that I quite enjoyed reading, and adds a number of details that I did not already know. I am interesting in double act dynamics, so this was a really cool article.

However, I am, of course, going to cut and paste on particular segment:

In 2006, Andy Zaltzman and John Oliver, who were at the time writing their third Edinburgh show together, travelled to London to audition for a role on Jon Stewart’s The Daily Show. Only Oliver, however, was called to a second audition. “When they offered him the job, unfathomably, John chose to go and work on the world’s leading satirical TV show rather than speak to 30 people in a tiny room in Edinburgh,” Zaltzman tells me over a Diet Pepsi in a London pub. After the swift departure of Oliver, who now presents HBO’s primetime political talkshow Last Week Tonight, Zaltzman was left to write and, two weeks later, perform the Edinburgh show alone. “It was difficult because I had nothing to replace this wonderful working relationship and friendship,” Zaltzman says. The year after Oliver left for America, Zaltzman “bumbled along” performing political standup. Then they were offered the opportunity to record a weekly topical podcast, the Bugle. Oliver agreed to rejoin the double act (albeit via a telephone line) as co-host. “It worked well straight away,” says Zaltzman. “There hadn’t been any great falling out, so in that sense it was easy for us to work together again.” The podcast, a satirical take on the week’s news, ran from 2007 to 2014 without a break. It then had a hiatus while Oliver focused on launching his new TV show; he soon found that the show was taking up too much of his time, and the Bugle came to an end in 2015. Then in 2016, Zaltzman relaunched it without Oliver, instead partnering with a roster of comedians including Nish Kumar and Hari Kondabolu. “To lose [Oliver] after having worked so closely for years left a void,” says Zaltzman. “But my frustration was not with his success. I like to think I haven’t become a bitter, twisted, resentment-fuelled showbiz cliche. But maybe there is a residual awkwardness about the different paths we’ve taken.”

Sorry, what the fuck? Did anyone else know about this? That apparently Andy Zaltzman also auditioned for The Daily Show, at the same time as John? I know a hell of a lot about the Zaltzman and Oliver history, and I never knew that. Which means Zaltzman's kept it quiet, in the all the times he's told stories in interviews about the paths their double acts took in those years.

I'd heard all that other stuff before. There's a Bugle quote (from 2018, the same year this article came out, so I guess Andy was into that phrasing at the time), in which Andy refers to: "June 2006, when [John Oliver] told me he wanted to do the Daily Show job instead of coming with me to Edinburgh to talk to 25 people a day in a darkened room." And of course I've heard Andy talk about how he felt like he was "bumbling" in the year between John going to America (June 2006) and The Bugle starting (Oct 2007), as he tried to get by without the double act. I'm convinced that the difficulty he had during that year is why he waited so long to pull the plug on The Bugle in 2015, when John had clearly checked out, and yet Andy kept doing filler episodes in which he'd tell us they're going to get this going with John again soon, like a mother telling the children that their dad has just gone out for cigarettes and will be back. Of all the double act stories in that article, Zaltzman and Oliver has to be one where one member tried the hardest to claw on after the other was out, not wanting to let go of it. And I include Lee and Herring, when I say Zaltzman and Oliver did that more than any others.

Anyway, the information that Andy Zaltzman had also auditioned for The Daily Show is a massive fact for this article to just casually drop. That recontextualizes a lot of stuff from around that time, and makes a lot of sense. @lastweeksshirttonight, @bimwi - as the other people here who know a lot about that history, am I the only one who didn't know that? Was anyone else aware of this?