#when I started interacting heavily with fandoms

[ariel-s-awesome]

Commander Peepers, love cute little evil bastards. Also I heavily relate to this nerd.

Lord Dominator, there's soooo much misogyny and demonizing women for not returning men's advances in her character. Literally ruined the show.

Friendship!

My artstyle is still heavily based on it. Also I learned about some writing mistakes to avoid.

The Funk! I love how it really showed Hater and Peepers' friendship. Also bonding over being horrible is funny.

The Toddler was kinda a weak episode. Not bad but...

The Eye on the Skullship! I love watchdogs so I was glad to see them get some focus!

There was literally nothing enjoyable about The Matchmaker. Not only was it incredibly heteronormative, but it established a pattern that twisted Wander and Sylvia's relationship and made it unhealthy. Sylvia was taught to ignore her own doubts and trust Wander without question. This was treated like a good thing. I also hate My Fair Hatey because as an aro (and someone who thought I was a girl at the time), it... literally broke my heart.

Sylvia's. The cyan and magenta with yellow and black accents is a really good look.

Ripov! She's soooo cool and I wish she got introduced far earlier. Maybe as part of the core cast instead of Dom. I'd love to see her and Sylvia bounce off each other. Directly related, I wish Captain Tim appeared more. He's such a large part of Hater's life, and his relationship with the watchdogs didn't get much focus.

Watchdogs by far.

Death Glare. Wouldn't want Peepers' obvious crush requited pre-character development and establishing a healthier (and far less toxic) friendship though. Btw I have no clue what Nomadic Heroes is.

Sylvia. She's my second favorite character and a pretty cool gal. ...And the only member of the main cast who isn't exhausting to be around.

The Skullship is super cool! And I'd love to see the watchdog homeworld... Can only interpolate what it's like from the Skullship's design and the watchdogs.

Peepers and Sylvia's gay/lesbian hostility and/or solidarity.

Yes. Most of them are prominent in season 2, although seeds were planted in season 1. I could write multiple essays. Most of them stem from misogyny and the distinctly Christian ideal of unconditional faith.

No one, I'm aro/ace. If I wasn't, Sylvia. Gotta admire cool buff women. I can also see Peepers' appeal, but he's horrible to be around and surely worse to date.

Mayo, the smell of mustard literally makes me gag.

The standard. And the variant in The Fancy Party.

Eh? Peepers', I guess? They're fun to draw.

Depends on the situation, I guess. And the hat's whims. I don't think it's what Wander hypes it up to be, just a traveling companion who tries their best and doesn't communicate well.

Looney Tunes, specifically with Marvin the Martian or Commander X-2. Either one of them could be a great friend and/or rival to Peepers'. Their respective universes would also mash up well.

Sylander. Please stop ruining a rare m/f friendship with heteronormativity/amanormativity... Men and women can be close friends. There's no such thing as people being too close to "just be friends."

Rhubarb, meringue is kinda tasteless.

That's How We'll Get Her. I love how they bounce off each other! And how it shows that while Peepers and Sylvia are both realists, Peepers is an optimist that starts with "what will it take to get to my end goal?", in contrast to Sylvia being a pessimist who defaults to "how can we salvage this situation?" Also we didn't get nearly enough of Peepers and Sylvia singing.

I already mentioned the one that made me boil with rage so here's a touching one: When Sylvia called out the Lords of Illumination for tormenting Wander.

Backstories, character development. They had a lot of good ideas but wasted time with that all-consuming love interest subplot.

Frankly? No. After season 2 it was a mercy kill. (And the whole Dominator thing, and tainting Wander's character by making him an infallible Space Jesus are not my only complaints.)

Peepers'! I don't remember the source but apparently a crew member said that they recorded Peepers singing The Commander Who Gave His Last Command. And they never released it??? A tragedy.

No. Being aro aside, he's just a cube. Honestly he's a meh character anyways.

Wander over Yonder Themed Asks!

[romance-of-three-memes]

A lot of people in mainland China are perfectly capable of getting around the so called 'Great Firewall of China' and interacting with the internet beyond it but the thing is a lot of them just flat out don't want to or don't really care all that much. Yeah sure the internet is heavily censored, but outside of that non-English spaces have gotten smaller and smaller while English takes over as the lingua franca of the internet, and they may or may not be able to read and understand English very well.

Also a lot of people on the internet beyond the 'firewall' are very hostile to them, they get treated like naive idiots or brainwashed infiltrators for the ccp. I remember a few years back when a lot of Chinese fanfic writers started uploading their stories on ao3 en masse because there had been a big uptick in websites that host fanfiction getting taken down and some people were so utterly vile about it, making jokes about how they could get the fics taken down by mentioning the Tiananmen Square massacre in the comments and things like that.

All because they were apparently offended by their favorite tags having more non-English works that can very easily filter out so they don't have to look at them at all. Because God forbid a fanfiction website that already greatly skews towards English fics have more works in other languages, right? That's like the only thing I miss about fanfiction.net, it had way more non-English fics, well that and more stories for certain fandoms than ao3 does.

And it's not like a lot of tech companies and other governments don't censor the internet to some extent or another, China isn't unique in that regard, it's just particularly infamous for being so heavy-handed and easy to use as a red herring.

[jayniks]

Brought The Heat Back (s.jy)

Where you annoy your boyfriend Jake while he's on live.

WC . 0,8k

PAIRING . Idol!jake x girlfriend!reader

WARNINGS . SMUT (MDNI), blowjob (m reciving), tease, public sex if you think about it, handjob, blowjob, a bit of boobjob at the end.

MASTERLIST . enha

"'Jake, is it hot in there?' Actually, yes, a little," Jake stammered, licking his lips as he ran his hand through his hair, small strands of which were sticking to his forehead from the sweat. The live had started, how long ago? Half an hour? Probably more. Of course, it was summer in Korea, it would be reasonable to think that was the reason why he was sweating. However, that wasn't the reason, and Jake was trying to hide it as much as he could but he wasn't God's strongest warrior.

It all started as an innocent movie night where he brought his beloved girlfriend to his room (let's celebrate that now he doesn't have to share one!) to watch some movies before doing a live for Engene. At one point he left to look for the food he had left reheating and, when he returned to the room, he noticed that you were not in bed, but rather next to the desk. He chuckled before sitting down and turning on live to interact with his fandom while he ate. He thought you were going to eat next to him (without the camera seeing you) while he did his daily duties. Little did he know that you would end up eating just not what he thought.

After about 15 minutes interacting with his fandom you decided that you were bored, so you took advantage of a moment where he turned around to sneak unnoticed under the desk. Jake didn't panic until that moment, he was more worried that you had been noticed than what you were doing. He smiled as he read the comments, one caught his curiosity so he decided to read it, "'Jake, what's the best thing about having a room for──." He interrupted himself, dropping his smile as he felt your hands run from his knees, across his thighs, until you reached his waist, where you played with his belt without undoing it yet.

He swallowed dryly as he looked scared at the camera, realizing what he had gotten himself into. He tried to cover it up by saying that 'he had seen a spider', they were going to believe it anyway. Well, let's continue where we were. Jake continued to pretend that everything was fine while you unbuckled his belt and pulled down his pants. He lowered his hand, pretending to drop some chopsticks to try to push you away, gently hitting you on the head as if he was saying 'stop, don't do it' while smiling awkwardly at the camera.

After reading some comments that were already noticing his strange behavior, he put his hands on the table again to start his 'date time with your idol' or something like that, I don't know, sometimes he gives his lives strange names... But continuing with Jake, he only managed to carry a few bites of food when he began to cough heavily to hide the moan he had repressed in his throat after you sucked on his tip. As Jake struggles to maintain his composure, your attitude becomes more daring and you move your hands further up his thighs, massaging until you reach his pelvis, and moved down so you folded his sack while gobbling down what you could of your boyfriend's member.

He scans the comments section, takes a sip of water to compose himself before speaking, "we've been trying to learn the choreography in a different way, Niki learned it immediately and wanted to leave earlier," he broke off with a laugh, "but the manager wouldn't let him leave, so-". This time he interrupted himself as he felt the warmth of your throat enveloping him. You looked at him with eyes full of mischief, hoping that he would pay attention to you.

"Oh, Jakey, you're so sweaty today! Shouldn't you cool off instead of making us hotter?" Jake read the comment, trying to maintain his composure. He lets out a nervous laugh and runs a hand through his hair. "Haha, well, you know, it's... really hot in here," he licked his lips as he leaned back in the chair a little, spreading his legs a little to give you more access. In a breathy voice he spoke momentarily "yeah, very hot, very warm...", at the end of the sentence he coughed to keep from letting out the grunts trapped in his throat. You take advantage of his momentary distraction, bobbing your head rhythmically, causing him to bite his lower lip to suppress a moan.

Moving on in the live (as well as your actions) Jake was no longer on earth. All that was going through his mind were the same words all the time, "Jake, don't cum during live." He had hidden it quite well, after all even the members had believed it. Oh, didn't I say that? The members had joined freely through the new weverse option, let's see how long Jake can last when you decided to change the position and slid his cock between your breasts.

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗙𝗔𝗞𝗘 𝗦𝗠𝗜𝗟𝗘

　　　　　　　　𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Chris records a TikTok with Tara after many requests from both fandoms, but fans reacted contrary to what he expected, generating questioning thoughts in Y/N.

WARNING: Crying, comparison, fighting.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The morning sun beamed beyond the half-open curtains in the living room, painting the room with orange and gold tones. Sitting at the kitchen table, Y/N immersed herself in her books, trying to focus on her notes as the sounds of Nick and Matt echoed around the house.

At that moment, Chris was absent. He had gone to Tara's house, a new friend of the triplets and, consequently, of Y/N, who had recently become a frequent figure in their lives. The objective was to record a video for Tara's channel since after the large group's social media post together, both fandoms started begging for collabs.

As Y/N immersed herself in her studies, a notification flashed on her phone screen. The girl looked up at her device, seeing the new message.

pretty boy: hi baby!! look, we did a tiktok! I look so cool: link.

A smile curved Y/N's lips as she clicked on the link, curious to see the result of one of Chris and Tara's creations. The video started, and she immediately recognized the song as one of her favorites, humming softly as her eyes captured the funny dance and interaction between the two.

A laugh escaped her lips when she saw Chris shaking his head in the lyrics "Would you get down on knees for me?", remembering all the times the song played when they were together, and exactly in this part, Chris always got down on his knees in front of Y/N, making her laugh.

For a moment, Y/N allowed herself to relax and enjoy the scene. It was a genuine demonstration of their new friendship, and Y/N felt grateful to be part of that dynamic.

However, her joy was momentary.

As the video came to an end, Y/N scrolled through the comments, eager to see the reaction of Tara's followers. What she found left her cold.

Among the funny and complimentary comments, there was a barrage of messages that cut like sharp knives. Ardent fans of both Tara and Chris were heavily shipping them, completely ignoring Chris's long-standing and public relationship with Y/N.

"Chris and Tara are so cute together!"

"I so wanted them to be a couple 😭"

"I'm sorry, Y/N, but you don't hold a candle to Tara. Chris deserves someone like her."

The words echoed in Y/N's mind, like a distant echo of an approaching storm. She felt a tightness in her chest, a mixture of sadness, anger, and confusion.

How could they be so cruel? How could they judge their relationship based on fragments of a distorted reality? Y/N felt vulnerable, exposed to the relentless cruelty of the virtual world.

Her thumb moved automatically as she left the comment box, sliding the screen to the TikTok below the one she was watching, craving a quick distraction. But her hope was suddenly dashed when she saw that the next video was an edit of Chris and Tara's TikTok and all the others after.

She knew the fans were fast, but at that moment, she wanted them to be as slow as possible.

Y/N closed the app with a heavy sigh, fighting to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. It was difficult not to let the strangers' words and opinions get to her.

With a determined effort to forget about it momentarily, Y/N turned her attention back to the books, seeking refuge in the comforting familiarity of the printed pages, forgetting to answer Chris.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The day was coming to an end. In the room shared by Y/N and Chris, the atmosphere was filled with a silent energy, interrupted only by the gentle slide of Y/N's fingers over her phone screen, and the low sounds of various videos.

She was lying in their bed, having already taken a comforting shower, but her mind was still shrouded in a haze of dark thoughts. As she scrolled through her TikTok's For You, romantic edits of Chris and Tara popped up with disturbing frequency. Y/N's expression was a mixture of sadness and self-questioning, her eyes reflecting an inner storm.

She felt her mind defeat her with thoughts of comparison. She knew she would never reach Tara's beauty, humor, and even body.

The heavy atmosphere was interrupted by the sound of the door opening gently. Chris entered the room, radiating an aura of euphoria. His eyes sparkled with joy, and a smile spread across his face with ease.

"Hi, my pretty girl!" Chris greeted, closing the door behind him. "You won't believe how amazing the video with Tara turned out. I can't wait for her to post it so you can see it!"

"Hey, baby! I'm so happy you had fun." Y/N looked up from her cell, forcing a smile on her lips, trying with all her might not to reveal her current state - the last thing she wanted to do was ruin Chris's excitement, but the sadness still hovered in her eyes.

Chris immediately noticed the change in her expression and approached the bed, worried.

"What happened, babe?" He asked in a worried tone, frowning and sitting down next to her.

She just shook her head slightly, unable to put her tumultuous thoughts into words. Chris reached out to caress her face gently, seeking to comfort her with his loving touch.

"You didn't answer my text, I really thought something was happening... You know you can tell me anything, right?" Chris continued gently. He didn't want to force anything out of her.

Y/N nodded, feeling a lump form in her throat. Before he could say anything else, Chris noticed the phone in her hand with almost silent sounds escaping from the speaker, leaning over to peer at the screen.

Romantic edits of Chris and Tara filled Y/N's device. He swallowed hard, instantly connecting the dots.

Chris's comforting touch on Y/N's face seemed to turn cool. His eyes narrowed slightly, and a sigh escaped his lips before he could control it.

"Y/N, are you really upset because of these silly edits?" The boy questioned, his voice filled with disbelief. His touch against the warm skin disappeared within seconds, the boy removing his hand from her face before sitting down on the bed.

Y/N flinched at the accusation implicit in his words, feeling suddenly exposed and vulnerable. Tears threatened to overflow her eyes as she struggled to find a coherent response.

"It's not just because of the edits..." She, her voice shaking with turbulent emotions. "Did you see the comments? They-"

Chris shook his head impatiently, cutting her off abruptly, frustration beginning to seep into his expression. He couldn't understand why something as trivial as fan edits could affect his girlfriend so much.

"Y/N, this is ridiculous!" He continued firmly. "These edits and comments don't mean anything. They're just fan jokes. It's not the end of the world." His voice came out louder than before, his posture now rigid.

His words hit Y/N like a sharp knife, making her feel even more inadequate and misunderstood. Anger bubbled inside her, a simmering mix of resentment and hurt.

"You don't understand, Chris!" She snapped, her voice shaking slightly. Her right hand worked to lock the screen of her phone in one quick motion, tossing it aside. "This isn't just about the edits. It's about how I feel about being compared to Tara, about how it's making me feel inferior to her! How would you feel if people started wanting to see me with a man other than you? While I'm in a relationship with you!"

Chris rolled his eyes dismissively, his patience beginning to wear thin at the intensity of Y/N's emotions.

“You’re so tiring sometimes, Y/N.” He snapped without thinking, his voice tinged with irritation, not giving a damn about how his girlfriend felt. "I can't deal with all this insecurity all the time. It's fucking exhausting."

The words hit Y/N like a punch to the gut, leaving her breathless, her rigid posture quickly crumbling. She felt tears run down her face without force as the painful realization settled in her heart.

She was tiring. She was insecure. She was too much for him to handle.

The pain of rejection burned in her chest as she retrieved her phone again, ripping the comforter off her legs. Her lips were pressed into a thin line tightly in an attempt to stop the ugly sobs that she wanted to let out. She wouldn't give herself the luxury of showing Chris how much he hurt her.

The girl got up from the bed in one quick movement, grabbing her pillow and heading towards the bedroom door.

"Where are you going?" Chris's voice echoed harshly behind her, his body rising from the mattress quickly.

"I'll sleep in the living room." Y/N responded curtly, turning the handle with ease before walking through the door, slamming it, feeling more alone than ever amidst the multitude of turbulent emotions.

She could feel her heart being crushed a little more when she didn't hear Chris call for her again, let alone try to reach her.

The stairs leading to the living room were silent, and her pillow clutched to her chest as a last vestige of comfort in a world that seemed to be falling apart around her. Each step up echoed like a lonely echo in an emotional void that seemed to swallow her whole.

Upon reaching the living room, Y/N found refuge on the empty couch. She curled into the soft upholstery, hugging the pillow tightly as tears continued to roll down her cheeks silently. The phone rested next to her, emitting a dim light that wouldn't turn off, almost begging her to pick it up again.

Hours dragged by like centuries as Y/N fought the ghosts of her own mind.

At some point, she had given up resisting and was on her TikTok again. The algorithm seemed to hate her, delivering her frequent videos of Chris and Tara, which were like a sharp dagger in her heart.

They would really look beautiful together.

Dawn fell heavily upon her, but sleep refused to welcome her into its comforting arms. Instead, she found herself trapped in a whirlwind of torturous thoughts, her mind pounding incessantly with doubts and questions about her relationship with Chris.

Until her brain shuts down completely, letting tiredness win.

At 3 a.m., in the darkness of the night, a familiar figure appeared at the entrance to the room. Chris was there, his tired face etched with worry and regret.

His eyes quickly found Y/N's figure lying on the couch, already asleep, curled up and shivering slightly from the cold. Her eyes were closed, but he could see the swelling that surrounded them, the traces of tears on her cheeks and her still damp face. Next to her, her phone repeatedly played one of the videos she had watched before falling asleep.

A lump formed in Chris's throat. He intensely blamed himself for not having thought before acting and, much less, noticing how much his actions had affected his girlfriend.

With hesitant steps, he approached her, feeling the weight of his own anguish on his shoulders.

Gently, Chris turned off her phone, cutting the endless cycle of pain that had consumed Y/N. He then crouched down beside her, studying her peaceful face with a mixture of love and pain.

With a resigned sigh, the boy carefully took her into his arms, hooking them around her back and behind her knees, feeling the weight of her fragile body against his own chest. Y/N hummed softly in response to his touch but didn't fully wake up.

Chris carried her down the stairs and back to their bedroom, where the soft light from the lamp bathed the room in yellow tones. Tenderly, he placed her on the soft mattress, covering her with the comforter carefully so as not to wake her.

Y/N shifted slightly under Chris's touch and the new surface beneath her limbs, her eyebrows furrowing in an expression of discomfort. She looked restless, as if she were immersed in a nightmare.

Chris watched her for a moment, feeling the weight of his own harsh words weigh on him like an anchor. He knew he had hurt Y/N deeply, and the pain of seeing her suffer was almost unbearable.

With a heavy sigh, he sat down next to her, his hand reaching for her with a tentative touch. Y/N stirred slightly, her eyes finally slowly opening to meet Chris's. She fought the urge to get up and leave the room again, her anger at Chris's actions and sadness in her mind, making her want to avoid him.

For a moment, they simply stared at each other, sharing a silent understanding that transcended words, Y/N making the decision to let him say what he wanted.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry.” Chris muttered, his voice thick with regret. "I was insensitive and selfish. I didn't want to hurt you, I acted on impulse and completely without thinking. This whole situation is not silly if it hurts and bothers you, and I promise that we can talk better about what you saw and how you felt, and solve this together... Just please, give me this chance?"

Y/N blinked slowly, her eyes locked on Chris's as she processed his words. For a moment, she felt the weight of hurt and disappointment pressing against her, but then she saw the sincerity in Chris's eyes, the pure, unconditional love he had always offered her.

And in that moment, she knew that forgiveness was the only good choice to make. With a sigh, she squeezed Chris's hand tenderly, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders.

"Just one chance. I want you to fix what you did and do it right this time."

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[cooliofango]

SEBASTIAN SOLACE FLUFF you walk into his shop looking like death, at first he acts snarky as usual, but he feels bad. you were never flashing him with flash beacons or pissing him off. he gives you a med kit for free, and lets you stay to rest. he lets you sleep cradled against his tail, and doesnt want to admit it but he enjoys it.

Not So Expendable

Pairing: Sebastian Solace x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Synopsis: Reader has had a bad run and needs to catch a break.

A/N: NERVOUS!!! 😂 I want this to be a good start to the Pressure fandom so I hope I did well! Thank you for requesting to help me get started! (And so quickly too!) I hope I’ve portrayed Sebastian well! If anyone who reads this has any positive constructive criticism feel free to share!

TW: Mention of injury, slightly graphic but nothing incredibly gory!

The familiar sound of someone pulling themselves through the vents pulled Sebastian’s attention towards it, the soft light blue glow of his three eyes settling on the rather ragged figure of the expendable making their runs for today. They breathed heavily through parted lips, a bloodied hand returning to their side to return to applying pressure to the deep red soaked material of their suit-- the right side, he noted.

“Oh my!” A baiting tone left his lips, sharp, pearly white teeth visible as he smirked down at them. “Aren’t you a sight to see?” A deep chuckle filled the air that quickly began to fill with the thick smell of iron. He’s seen wounds similar to the ones this expendable had on numerous occasions. This early in the run, they usually stem from a very specific monster here in the Hadal Blacksite. “I thought you would be smart enough to avoid such simple trickery. They’re only Good People, after all.” The emphasis on the monster’s name was spoken condescendingly, humming in amusement at his own play of words.

There was no response from the expendable. Their hand only pressed more firmly on their wound, limping towards him without so much as a glance in his direction. They only seemed focused on the items draped along the length of his tail. Sebastian frowned in slight annoyance, an emotion that showed vibrantly in his tone, “Fine, fine! Straight to business are we? And here I thought we had something special.”

That line was said tauntingly, though his frown softened. The expendable before him was definitely different from the others he has come across- special is quite the stretch, though, no? The first time you came with a group was a memory that stood out to him in that moment of reminiscence. A large and rowdy group of eight came in to purchase what they wished, with a rather infuriating kid thinking it was a good idea to use the flash beacon right there in the room with him. The sudden bright light stung his eyes harshly. He was about to lash out at the kid, a hand raised to rub the stinging sensation away. But a certain expendable’s voice beat him to it.

“Come on! Is that really necessary? You’re wasting the uses on it anyways!”

While it wasn’t necessarily a direct defense for him, there have been many other occasions where you would put your little group in line whenever you went out as a team. Likewise, you would remain courteous when interacting with him when you would make runs alone as well- no matter how much he would try to tease and annoy you.

A slight tug against his tail brought him back to reality, watching as your face went from relief as you placed a hand on the medkit settled dead center of all of the wares he had up for offer, to a heavy sense of worry as your hand moved to grab the price tag set above it. “Something not to your liking?” Though his tone still held a bit of mockery, it waned into something a little softer.

The expendable quickly shrugged off their bag, struggling for a moment to pull the zipper open with their free hand before digging through its contents frantically. Their face grew paler as an empty flashlight and old keycards toppled out the sides of the open bag. A few files were tossed onto the ground, as well as a couple of DNA samples- but they weren’t even half of what the medkit cost.

Sebastian cringed at the sight, an unpleasant feeling bubbling in the pit of his stomach. Sympathy? His jaw locked in place at the thought. No way. Sympathy for an expendable who will only be sent back once again when they’re on the brink of death, only to be healed to be good as new for the sole purpose of doing all again until the people of UrbanShade were satisfied? Absolutely not, was what he decided. It was nothing more than a slightly sick sense of pity.

The expendable in question dropped onto the ground, seemingly too weak to keep themselves up anymore. Their chest rose and fell with each heavy and shaken breath they took, leaning against an empty spot on his tail.

God, they looked pathetic..

Sebastian scoffed irritably, that same awful feeling that started within the pit of his stomach now crawling up his spine. They looked pathetic. He ripped the medkit off of its hook, tossing it in the expendable’s direction. It clattered loudly when the plastic box made contact with the stone floors, only stopping when it had hit the expendable’s leg and bounced off of it, landing it a few inches away from them.

Tired eyes moved quickly to the box and then to him, leaving only a second to wonder before it was hastily scooped up into their hands. Their hands shook from how weak their body was, and their hands slipped from how bloodied they were- but they managed to open it with an audible pop. The gauze wrap was in their hands in mere minutes, struggling to unzip the scuba suit they wore in order to make their most life threatening wound more accessible.

It was then that Sebastian was able to get a clearer view of the wound you so desperately were trying to keep from draining the expendable completely of their energy. He’s unable to tell if the wound was as deep as it looked, or if the wound was just large, causing the blood loss to make it appear deeper than it really was. It was definitely way worse than the smaller cuts littering their arms- most of which have already healed on their own- as well as the large bruise on the left side of their jaw.

Relief caused Sebastian’s shoulders to relax momentarily, his shoulders dropping with each second he watched the expendable patch themselves up to the best of their abilities. He scoffed at himself upon realization. He shouldn’t be feeling that way towards an expendable. He shouldn’t have helped them to begin with! He keeps telling himself this. And yet, here the both of you are.

The gentle pressure against his tail pulled him from his thoughts once more. The expendable rested against his tail again, eyes fallen shut and breathing more evened out than before. They looked far more relaxed than they were mere moments ago. They appeared almost too relaxed.

“Hey, now! Who said you could get some shut eye?” He initially began to tease, moving his tail to start wrapping around the expendable’s body with the intent on lifting them up to wake them. But he stops himself. His tail is wrapped completely around them, but it hadn’t tightened enough to safely lift them up without the risk of dropping them. The relaxed state, in comparison to moments earlier, eased his nerves. Much to his own dismay. A feeling of defeat washed over him, sighing to himself in slight annoyance as he crossed two of his three arms across his chest.

“Very well..” His voice was soft as to not awaken them, watching over them carefully as the room rumbled with the passing of an Angler just outside the room.

[death---dealer]

I s2g if you give me anything Caesar I will love you forever 🙏🏻

*Stumbles as thousands of Caesar pics fall out of my trench coat* Listen - Shit - I can explain, This is just a small little blurb. I have another Caesar request I'm working on that'll be longer!

Title: Phoenix. Fandom: Planet of the Apes. Pairing: Heavily Implied! Caesar x Human ! Reader. Words: 1.8K+ Rating: K. ( Tiny mention of blood, but other than that, fluffy introspective. ) Summary: **Below is set in an AU - Cornelia passed away due to complications from childbirth after Blue Eyes was born. This is happening during the events of Dawn of the Planet of the Apes.** You were chosen to help Caesar put his war paint on. .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·. .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻

It was very apparent that you didn't know how to hold your body when you were with him, Caesar huffed out a small laugh at that. After all this time, he still made you sweat to the point where he could smell the nerves radiating off you in fragrant waves. Caesar had watched with deathly silent observance the shift of your weight from one side to the other in front of him, perched on a rock to give you enough of a boost to be face to face with him as he propped himself to sit straight. Almost straight as a pin, you thought to yourself and wondered vaguely if it was really comfortable for him. If he had evolved for it to be comfortable. Before the Rise, Chimpanzees were able to walk upright, but never did for extended periods of time, their spines more curved and adapted to move quickly on all fours. But Caesar--- You have a small pause as your fingers dipped into a crudely sculpted bowl to your right, coating your fingertips with a white, chalky like substance. He held himself with such confidence, an air of arrogance but you doubted that that’s how he intended it to be interpreted. He had to have known how he looked to his fellow Apes, it was obvious in how they talked to him, how he interacted with them, even his own son. But, you asked in your mind if he knew that humans, at least the handful that had seen him in such close proximity, thought similarly. You scoffed to yourself, raising your hand and taking a deep breath in as your hand was quick to draw a line of white against the side of the Chimps face. He reacted only slightly. If he was pleased being touched, he never showed it in moments like this as you began to intricately trace his war paint. You started with his cheeks, figuring it was the largest bit of the canvas. Or maybe you were being biased in this entire situation. It would be impossible not to, having the intimate bond with Caesar that you did. Not mates, you were convinced of that. Caesar never brought it up, never asked if you cared to be, if you liked to be. That was a mixed bag in itself, the reaction from his Colony might not be so accepting of Caesar’s bond with a human, especially when compared to the previously loved and adored Cornelia, You were just an outlet for Caesar who craved here and there the intricacy of human interaction as opposed to Ape. 

Your hand swept upwards after re-applying a dabble of the white makeshift paint to your fingertips. Caesar was silent as his green eyes dug holes into your own, so human-like, so entrancing that you felt he could grab your hips and pull you into him,  just consume your entire being and you would allow it to happen with such gratefulness. There was a brief second where the corner of Caesar’s lip jolted, like a fleeting thought of something good passed through him before he slid his eyelids shut, allowing your gentle touch around the bridge of his brows and eye sockets. He wasn’t going to smile, you told yourself over and over, it was most likely a reaction to you touching his face. An involuntary twitch.

You swished your hand upwards into the line of his fur, tapering the white paint off in a flutter.  His fur was thicker at this time of year than during the spring and summer months, you noticed. You didn't dwindle there too long despite the growing urge to just grasp a handful of his fur to gloat to others that you had taken initiative for your own selfish fantasies. Uncomfortable again at the fastened sensation resting in the tail of your spine from the intimate nature of the situation, your eyes peered at his broad chest.

With three fingers now splattered with white, you draped coordinating lines along his collar bones, the first set of mirror lines reaching from the middle of his sternum all the way to the end of the shoulder. His fur wasn't rough like you had anticipated, in fact, it was… Hot. Smooth under the paint as it bunched together here and there as you traced what looked like bones down his chest. You only fleetingly placed a touch on his scar, feeling the dip of your touch when you went from fur to bare skin and then back to fur again. How easy it would be to just… Dig your fingers in… Swallowing hard, you admired your work pensively to keep your train of thought from derailing further and nodded in meager self-satisfaction. Caesar was still unmoving in front of you, almost getting a full face of hair as you had moved to give him the last set to complete his ceremonial rib cage. He wasn’t breathing; he couldn’t allow himself that pleasure, feeling that your smell so near to him could cause a snap. He did exhale though, feeling the thrust of your fingers against his diaphragm. Wiping your fingers on a damp cloth, you drew a deep breath into your lungs. Caesar watched that, how expanded your ribs got when you breathed in and how they deflated, almost in haste as you shifted attention to the bowl with red in it. Green and golden orbs found yours again and your heart jolted in your chest. The deep intensity of his stare always left you feeling weak in the knees and you were incredibly grateful to be sitting. You knew what was next. Caesar knew what was next. You had studied the last few times, Lake working the paint to Caesar’s face. How she applied, how Caesar preferred it to look. Finally, it was your turn. And while you thought Lake would assist, giving you advice as she watched you do it, you found yourself alone with the Ape King. Better to just rip the metaphorical band-aid off. 

The red was thicker than the white. Where the white was chalky in nature and would surely only stick to the places on Caesar’s face with deep wrinkles, the red felt goopy. Almost like actual blood, you thought to yourself and felt it trickling down your fingers, tracing the lines on your palm. Caesar closed his eyes again. Two fingers, pointer and middle, pressed to his fur line on his head and trailed down, splattering color onto the otherwise monotone Chimp. You stopped before hitting his nose, taking a few seconds to stab two adjacent lines right at his nose. One shooting off to the left and one to the right, looking like an upside down arrow. Your fingers cupped more red, more than you probably needed. Scarlet droplets hit the ground between you as your fingers finally landed on his sternum itself. The bone was hard under a layer of muscle. It often slipped your mind just how muscular Caesar was. He wasn’t bulky, but dear lord, he surely had lean muscles that served him well. Stopping a few inches downwards, your fingers shook. 

‘Cold.’ Caesar must have seen your hand shivering. He didn't speak and you wished deep down that he had. Something about the coarse nature of his voice, laxed from years of not verbalizing, made you feel that guilt-ridden bile in your stomach. 

“No,” You said with a forced smile, hating to hear the reverb of your voice. “Nervous. Want to make sure you look good.”

Caesar chortled at that. It was a laugh, sarcastic. ‘Always look good.’ 

Rolling your eyes at that, you realized that he was trying to calm you down. He had a strange way around it, often relying on his knowledge of human emotions to do just that. It varied, but in experience, joking and being sarcastic was a good way to get them to trust him. If they could see themselves in Caesar, they were more likely to be accommodating and listen to what he had to say. It was a funny way of analysation and when you first met him, it impressed you that he possessed such a quality. 

“I need to finish your face,” You whispered this time, Caesar watching your mouth form words so delicately. “Don’t move.”

He wouldn’t think of it. A tinge of pink still lingered on your fingers as you raised them, now four of them pressing to his mouth. Actually, a centimeter or so above his top lip. He pressed them together, silently eager to know what it was going to feel like. If your touches in other ways would feel similar. He’d think about it alone, perhaps when he returned. Tickling your fingers down, You were slow, obsessing over how your fingers felt against him, knowing he could bite all your fingers off here if he chose. You were so focused on getting the paint right that you were oblivious how he looked at you. Tracing his gaze along your face, admiring the tiny freckles that speckled around, only noticeable once close to you, the flick of your lips as you muttered to yourself.

It was a dragging movement you set forward, catching his bottom lip and pulling it enough for you to see his teeth for a split second before his lip bounced back to normalcy and Caesar went back to his regular gruff and flat expression. You pressed pink and took away some white to give Caesar the appearance of a skull mask. Holding his face for a brief moment, grasp on his chin, Caesar furrowed his brow at your action. Fur tickled your fingertips, you wanted nothing more than to continue moving your hand downwards. To scape it across his chest, destroy the paint you just put on him. Smearing over your own body. 

“You better not ruin my piece of art.” You shook yourself out of your own thoughts, snapping your hand back just as quickly as you decided to actually hold him. Clearing your throat, you hoped he didn't mention you lingering. You knew he noticed and now, all Caesar got was another awkward smile from you, Knees rubbed together for a second before you decided to occupy yourself with cleaning up. “Hm…” He muttered, perking up at the sound of clay clanking against each other as you stacked the paint bowls. Eyes were burning into your back, you felt them as you shuffled across the cave to put your things away. “Cannot help it… if it rains.”

A small laugh left your lips at that as you looked over your shoulder at him. The vibration of his voice rocketed through you and it felt strange that your legs were unable to move. He picked his body up, now shifting to his assortment of weapons. So broadening in nature, it wasn’t a surprise to anyone that he was the King.  

“Course not.” You laughed again, drawing your bottom lip in, hoping to yourself in secrecy that he’d ask you to help clean himself up when he returned. “Can’t help that at all…”

[pomegranatesandtangerines]

based off this post

how I think (some of) the Dungeon Meshi characters would interact with an isekai-ed reader who's hyperfixation is dungeon meshi

includes: Laios, Falin, Kabru, and Toshiro (Shuro)

Laios

im imaging reader meeting him when he was a child

a little after Falin was born and after he was given the dungeon gourmet guide

reader actively seeking him out but kinda starts freaking out when they actually see him

reader decides to go with the approach being interested in his book

Laios was suspicious at first ( the book is one of the main reasons he got bullied )

but after some time and patience he got comfortable with you

I feel that Laios would be very attached to reader

like someone besides his sister who gets him, listens to him, communicates with him, etc.

listen as someone who is very hyperfixated on dungeon meshi at the moment I would be so invested in learning about monsters

and Laios is more then happy to talk about it for hours

reader making a point to support his dream of exploring the dungeons bc his parents are dicks

he wouldn't really be weirded out by reader seems to know so much about him, maybe early on but over time I feel he would just be glad to have someone like that by his side

low-key though,,, I think there would be a small small part of him that is kinda jealous over how reader seems to just,, get some people

Falin

I see reader being her number one hype-person as a child

reader would also beg her to teach them some magic

I think that Falin and reader would meet through Laios

Falin while she is outcasted from her home town, is still a litter more sociable then her brother

but what had her truly open up was not only the readers support of her magical talent but also the readers interest in learning about how biology works in this world

she also info dumps a ton

you know how she kept bringing Marcille things cause she wanted to eat them with her

she would 100% do that with reader,,, and the amount would increase when Laios leaves

Kabru

he would be veryyy fascinated by the reader

his hyperfixation is people. studying them, their anatomy, psychology, how they tick

he would absolutely notice how reader picks up on things, knows things about some people without even having met them, predict events

to put it simply he wants to study reader under a microscope but is also extremely suspicious of them

he's also gonna pull out all the stops to try charm his way into understanding reader

his distrust sky rockets the first time they lock eyes, he can see it in his eyes, this look of understanding the deepest parts of him

he does not like it

it takes a long ass time for him trust them and genuinely open up again

reader making a point to ask things that will make him want to info dump

"hey did you notice how x was acting today" or "did you hear that x and y got together? do you think they'll make it?"

gossip buddies

Toshiro

ALRIGHT LET ME START BY SAYING THIS, HE IS WAYYYY TOO MISCHARACTERIZED IN THIS FANDOM

and reader would be all too aware of this as well

he is heavily implied to have a hyperfixation on bugs, and had to at a young age become a master at masking and picking up on social norms

but anyways-

he would think reader is weird, mostly bc they would remind him of laios

slowly but surely I feel he would feel more comfortable

another case of the way to his heart is through the info dump

maybe walking back from a little adventure and noticing a beetle and showing him

now hes not gonna be as outwardly as excited as Laios

but it is slightly noticeable that he is interested and excited

reader offers to give it to him and asks him some questions

less info dumping and more info sprinkling but still he does like to talk about it

I think he would appreciate how they seem to pick up on his smaller details, maybe not a perfectly but still

[notartisticdraw]

wait, if ur not blodthegreatrouge, how come u do pjs daycare stuff when it also had a lot of the controversy on it?

A few reasons, but I can promise you, I am 100% not rouge lmao. I think she's in her early 30s, where I'm currently 19. If you trace my blog through my archive, you can see when I joined years after her initial popularity and how godawful my art was in attempting to replicate her style (since I was even heavily influenced as a child). It's also uncomfortable seeing how much of a pro-rouge advocate I was, but I was 12/13 when I joined Tumblr and began drawing Undertale fanart. This was also far before everyone started calling her out in 2021, when I had mostly forgotten about what happened in her AUs

As a child, I was obsessed with the AU and the characters. They made up an important part of my preteen years, as did several other major Undertale comics (Geno's Christmas Party, Handplates, Aftertale, etc.) despite all of the weird/uncomfortable plots rouge shoved into it. I just knew the majority of it made me happy, y'know?

Anyway, my continuation AU of PJ's Daycare (PJ's Daycare 10 Years Later) does not promote the original material but rather tweaks and continues the story in a way I presume most original fans want it depicted---meaning back to its roots of what it is: a Daycare attended by several of the most popular Sanses as children, and popular shipchildren raising them

I wanted to bring back the old whimsical feeling into it and mold the original material into something better and newer. This includes shifting several parts of the original story like, idk, not having kinder!Fresh's love interest be an actual adult, reworking (or entirely removing) the awful Geno suicide depiction, booting proships out of the AU, reworking the love triangle between Palette, Goth, and Cray since they're all 12 - 13, and a lot of interactions made me really uncomfortable (almost sexual undertones AND THEY'RE CHILDREN), etc.

I get many comments on posts describing it as the fandom reclaiming the media from a bad person and fixing it up, and honestly, this is the only AU I could attempt to fix from Rouge. All her other AUs are far too gone, whereas PJ's Daycare had mistakes but was nowhere near as insane as her other stuff (NaJ, for instance)

Again, my content does not promote Rouge or anything she's done. She's awful and shouldn't be allowed online after the mess she's caused and doesn't care cleaning up. I'm just fixing a childhood favorite comic for myself and the community

urgggg sorry for rambling. its like 7:30 am and I sorta didn't sleep at all so my cranium ain't working 100%. hope this sorta explains things tho

[13uswntimagines]

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

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

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

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

July, 2015

We were both young when I first saw you

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pretty spectacular isn’t it?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shrugged again, your grin turning impish.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shrugged. “So?” 

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

It was a fundamental part of your personality after all. 

“Y/n I’m serious,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tay!” 

“That was an amazing show,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*****

September, 2015

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

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

But as it turned out, Taylor did text you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You frowned. “I don’t flop,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It also saved your mother’s sanity. 

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

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

She rolled her eyes. “Try for me?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But she couldn’t be into you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

******

December 2015

Barefoot in the kitchen

Sacred new beginnings 

That became my religion, listen

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

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

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

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

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

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

She frowned. “Never ever?” 

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

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

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

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

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

A thoughtful look crossed her face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are they dating?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She was your friend. 

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

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

“You didn’t just do that,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Missed me, loser,” 

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

You would not be a loser. 

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

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

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

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

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

Her face was red when you dropped your shirt. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wrinkled your nose. “Bummer,”

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

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

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

You would tolerate baking if it was with Taylor. 

*****

March, 2016

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where the fuck have you been?” 

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

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

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

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

You rolled your eyes. 

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

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

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

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

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

She made a face at you. 

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

Now it felt like she barely knew you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?” You asked, examining the cookie. 

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

You glanced down at the device. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” Kelley frowned. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just fine?”

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

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

Lots of practice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She wasn’t sure when that changed. 

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

“Promise?” She asked you, more softly. 

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

“With my pinky,” 

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

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

OoOoOoO

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

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

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

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

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

But she didn't. 

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

Maybe it was slightly more than slightly…

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

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

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

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

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

And… she groaned, swiping to the next picture. 

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

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

She rolled her eyes. 

She knew differently. 

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

She sighed again, scrolling past the pictures. 

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

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

It was a picture of a bag of cookies.

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

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

I can make you more when you visit me

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

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

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

*****

June 2016

I watched from a distance as you Made life your own

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She must be at the studio. 

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

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

Taylor rolled her eyes at you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You doubted they’d make the connection anyway. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Plus she was straight. 

It was too cliche for you to handle. 

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

It never turned out well when they pushed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She wouldn’t let Emily either. 

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

“Come on Sonny, make your move,”

******

July 2016

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

2016 was the summer of the apocalypse. 

There was no other way to put it. 

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

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

But you missed it. Badly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

5

4

3

2

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe you just liked hanging out with her.

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

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

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

Blondie 👱🏻‍♀️🎤: ???

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her frown deepened. “You sound drunk?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/n?”

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

She shook her head. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

OoOoOoOo

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taylor nodded. “That would be great,” 

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

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

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

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

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

You looked so young in your sleep.

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

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

“Tay?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her eyebrows furrowed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe one day she would ask you. 

OoOoOoO

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyebrows furrowed. 

How had you scared her? Did you call her? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A dark look crossed your features. 

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

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

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

You shook your head. “This is different,” 

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

If only you could be like your perfect older sister. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

OoOoOoO

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

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

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

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

She raised her eyebrow at you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It would be easy. 

And frankly, it was easy. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

OoOoOoO

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The team brought in less money when they lost. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taylor nodded slowly, taking another bite of her burrito. 

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

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

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

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

Your whole face lit up. “Really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

OoOoOoO

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taylor hummed. He was right. 

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

Tonight you hadn’t done that. 

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

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

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

Taylor’s head tilted. 

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

But this felt different. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

OoOoOoO

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 And Taylor…

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

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

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

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

You blew out another breath. 

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

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

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

You were just… lost. 

You had never felt so… attached before. 

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

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

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

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

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

She was definitely going to make fun of you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blinked at her. “Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You weren’t ready for that. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You squinted. “Just go with it?”

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

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

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

“Ok,” You said. “Thank you,” 

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

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

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

Maybe it would all be ok if you didn’t overthink it. That’s why you were good at hookups after all wasn’t it? 

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hey there sex witch! This one might be a little bit out of your wheelhouse, but I don't really have anyone else to ask 😅 and this seems mostly relevant to what you talk about.

So recently I (a very shy person for a long time) have gotten pretty active in some fandom discord communities, and I've been making a ton of friends. Which is great because I used to have social anxiety to the point where I could barely talk to people, especially online. The problem is that my new friends are all VERY horny, all the time. Which, great for them, I don't really feel the same way. They're also very interested in ERP and other varieties of e-sex and often ask if I want to join. I really don't, but it's fine that they're into that. One guy in particular is really starting to freak me out though. He's a semi-popular creator and a mod on one of the servers. He's becoming a pretty good friend of mine and I play online games with him and others a bunch. He, like the rest of the crowd, is also very horny all the time. He often makes sexual comments about me, sometimes very graphic ones. Stuff like telling me to take my clothes off IRL while on call with him or saying stuff like "I want to fuck you until you cry" or just dming me asking if I want to have sex with him. Sometimes he notices that his comments make me uncomfortable and he did reach out to sincerely apologize for it once, but he hasn't changed his behavior a whole lot.

The big thing that worries me about him is the fact that he's 28. I'm 18, just graduated high school. He knows this about me. He does a very good job of keeping his server 18+ and would never make a sexual comment about a minor, but is still comfortable doing sexual things with people ten years younger than him. Another thing is that even though I've told him I already have a boyfriend, he assumes I'm in an open relationship even though I never told him I was. My boyfriend also says this guy kinda freaks him out and that he's a little worried about me.

I know that age gaps between older people can be perfectly healthy and problems arising from them vary pretty heavily from person to person, but I'm not entirely sure if this is ok or not. This guy doesn't want to hurt anyone. Have I probably just not properly expressed my boundaries with him? It's not like he's targeting me or anything, he acts this way with basically everyone. I'm torn on what to do, he's still my friend and I like him otherwise. Should I just keep laughing it off? I am uncomfortable but I guess it's not a huge deal to me. Should I stop talking to this guy?? Help??

🐟🐟 So I can find this quickly if/when you answer it

hi 🐟🐟,

this guy fucking sucks and needs to be banned from interacting with maybe anyone until he learns what "no" means. literally every individual thing you've described him doing would be alarming in it's own, but altogether this man is a walking collection of red flags. this is not your friend and this is not a guy who cares about your boundaries or well-being; this is a man using his fandom clout to sexually harass you (and likely others). him being ten years older than you isn't even really the biggest issue here; all of this would be shithead behavior even if you were exactly the same age.

get out of there, double fish.

[vasito-de-leche]

;R1999 - Self-Aware AU

Headcanons about an Alternate Universe in which everyone knows they're living inside a videogame. However, Vertin is the only one aware of the entity inhabiting her own mind, the real conductor - the "Player".

this is one of my favorite AUs to slap on whatever media I'm into so here we are <3 not sure if anyone's done this already, but PLEASE PLEASE PRETTY PLEASE link me if you've seen any other ppl write for this AU! this one and any actor AUs are my absolute fave

this is just a word vomit introduction for fun, to get the basic ideas out of my head, so I can start writing for characters individually!

Okay, okay! First of all, some context for the AU before I go deranged overexplaining my HCs!

Aside from the "Storm", there is something else that haunts the people of this world: the fact that their lives are nothing but a simulacrum, part of a game.

The requirements to obtain this "self-awareness" is unknown. Those within the Foundation believe it's related to their respective "roles", that only the main and relevant characters are given the chance to fully open their eyes to the truth. Those within Manus Vindictae claim that one must be strong enough to break through the fog of complacency and their assigned scripts, to have their full potential unleashed and obtain true liberation. Either way, similar to the "Storm", this is a well-kept secret for a very good reason - everyone wants to have the upperhand.

There is one outlier to this whole system. Vertin is not only aware of the truth of this world, but also of her duty as the eyes and hands of the "Player". She must experience it all for their sake. Or rather, whatever she experiences will be the story that the Player will see.

This applies to her suitcase, the place where the Player's influence increases tenfold, bending everything and everyone to their will through her own body and voice. The longer one stays within her suitcase - or within her general vicinity - the easier it is for them to become self-aware.

How does one become "self-aware" and what does it entail?

The requirements and the catalyst for a character to become self-aware are still a mystery. But that's mostly because I specifically wanted to keep them as vague as possible, to allow some flexibility for NPCs and other characters outside of Vertin's suitcase.

The whole process of gaining sentience or self-awareness is mostly described as waking up from a nightmare, or a very, very realistic dream. It's like a switch, something that happens in a second without any warnings whatsoever.

I like to think that most of the people who wake up are easy to spot, because it's a jarring experience and panicking is the most normal reaction - but that they're often taken care of by the Foundation or recruited by Manus Vindictae.

The levels of awareness also depend heavily on each individual - some only know that nothing is truly real, that everything they've done up until that point was just a carefully scripted lie, the most basic realization. Others can understand the rules that govern this game and use them to their advantage, either through observation and study or just inherently.

Overall, the experience of being sentient varies as well, with some describing a disconnect from their body, while others feel exactly the opposite. Again, keeping it pretty vague so that people can fill in with their own ideas!

I'll talk about Vertin's case in detail when we get to her specific bullet point, but the same way the Player is able to experience the "story" through her eyes, she's able to see the same things they do - this includes the UI, the menus and everything you can interact with in-game.

Vertin as a character and a vessel for the Player.

The most common thing I've seen in self-aware AUs in my years of fandom is to turn the player stand-in (the main character that serves for the player to experience the story through and/or project onto, depending on the genre of the game) into an obstacle, one that keeps the characters from truly interacting with the Player, capital P.

The second most common thing I've seen is to simply ignore the existence of this player stand-in and replace it with the Player themself, either through isekai methods or thanks to the customization the game allows, etc etc.

When it comes to Vertin in this AU, I know I want her to retain her role as the center of everything, instead of being sidelined by the Player. She's THE Timekeeper, after all.

There's still some details I'm trying to iron out, like whether she's always been self-aware or if she became self-aware at some point during her childhood at the St. Pavlov Foundation. But I like to think that her relationship to the Player is a parallel to her immunity to the "Storm" - neither of these two things are inherently good nor bad. Surviving the "Storm" is helpful, sure, but it's painful for her. Having an entity like the "Player" haunting her is scary, sure, but it can be an advantage. It's a matter of how she utilizes the assets she was given, since her adaptability and determination are big aspects of her character. Vertin makes up for her mediocre arcane skills with unconventional plans and strategies.

But this isn't to say that Vertin isn't affected by the presence of the Player. Ironically, she's the one person whose freedom is limited. During battles, her skills and Tuning are available to you, they can also prove to be vital to win a fight, but in the end you're still the one calling the shots and choosing when her friends get to attack. You're the one choosing the layout of the Wilderness. You're the one picking which one of her friends deserves to become stronger.

In the last bullet point I mentioned that some characters can understand the rules of the game - Vertin is the most extreme case, as she can see the same UI as you do. She learns the way you like to fight your battles, your own strategies, she can see this and more.

Overall it's a very complex dynamic. It's not as easy as saying that she likes or dislikes you, that she considers you a friend or foe. You're part of her, you influence each other in many aspects and are stuck together for reasons she can't even fathom. While you may be able to read her thoughts most of the time, she becomes invisible once you enter the suitcase - the main menu of the game. Sure, the character you selected to greet you every day is actually talking to her, not you, but she's out of your view and therefore, out of our range. That's when Vertin wonders the sort of person that you are, if you care about her friends as much as she does. Are you playing just to be entertained? Are you invested in these events? Will you be there for her until the end of her story?

Another detail I like to think about is that Vertin is the only one who knows your name. Because at the very beginning, you were asked to input a name and she was there.

[screenshot was taken from this video, since it's the first one I could find that showed this specific part of the game lol]

Well, "your name" not quite right - she knows that whatever you wrote there is the name linked to your account, at least. And that's the name she knows you as.

Those who take residence in Vertin's suitcase or spend prolonged amounts of time with her, growing closer to her and all, end up becoming self-aware. This is a direct side-effect of your presence.

I like to think that characters who reach the 100% Bond can begin to sense the Player, to see the world in a similar way as Vertin does. Maybe even feel their presence EXACTLY like Vertin does whenever there's a battle. There is someone else on the other side of this screen, the fourth wall, who watches over them.

To some, it's hard to differentiate Vertin from the Player, as they just go hand in hand - but Sonetto, for example, has the easiest time telling the two apart.

On the subject of freedom and acting out of script.

The Foundation, Manus Vindictae, Laplace... It doesn't matter if they're self-aware and acting outside of what their script dictates, because they're missing one key ingredient: you. No one else but Vertin and her group knows about your existence, after all.

They don't know that the only story that matters is the one that Vertin is part of. The one that the Player gets to see and read and experience. And because the game gives you a very limited view into the lives of these characters, you don't know what neither Arcana nor Constantine do behind the scenes. You and Vertin don't see that, therefore, it never truly mattered.

Those most likely to start "acting out" are the troublemakers within Vertin's suitcase. Characters who are too curious for their own good, who are more susceptible to supernatural entities, who are just too impulsive - they would start to test the limits and see how far they can go, how much they can interact with the Player. Can the game be broken should they end up shattering the fourth wall? Is there a way for the Player to communicate with them? What will happen to Vertin?

I like to think that Vertin probably supports this, as she's rather curious herself, prone to questioning everything. She would also like to learn more about the Player, to truly tear into the game and see the full extent of your influence and her freedom.

Sometimes, Regulus and X will change their usual voicelines, just enough to be noticeable if one pays enough attention. Characters like Sotheby or Leilani might slip up and address the Player, rather than Vertin. Lilya, Pavia, Bkornblume have new animations and different expressions, ones you've never seen before - they stare ahead, as if searching for something, and then smirk or hum to themselves, deep in thought, like they realized something you're not privy of.

Sometimes, if you leave them as your selected assistant on the main menu, you can catch them muttering to themselves - idle quotes you never heard enough, about the outside world. Diggers does this the most, it's almost embarassing how easy it is to catch him talking nonsense, followed by Sonetto. If you leave Medicine Pocket alone for too long, you might come back to a screen covered in weird scratch marks.

On the subject of these characters being curious about the outside world and all, I think that a good chunk of them are generally content with the way things are?

We have to remember that in-universe, they're arcanists displaced from their respective eras. Their best chance at surviving is siding with Vertin, and if Vertin is content with the way things are, then there's no point in trying to disrupt what they have right now. They're curious enough to prod, but only as far as Vertin allows it.

And I think that's it for the word vomit!

There are some details I didn't know where to fit in, like the possibility of the fourth wall slowly dissipating the more time the Player invests in the game, leading to some characters being able to directly hear you if you talk while playing and whatnot. Or what would happen should someone outside of Vertin's suitcase figure out the existence of the Player, let alone interact with you in some way.

Or the concept of death being meaningless, unless it was pre-established by the game itself.

In Borderlands, there's this game mechanic where you can just be revived over and over and pay a percentage of your money as a fee, even though the canon that's established is that you play through the whole story without dying a SINGLE time - because the revival mechanics aren't canon. There's the divide between story and gameplay. That's pretty much the standard. But what about the deaths in battles in R1999? The amount of times I died to 1.3's UTTU's Flash Gathering is insane. How do self-aware characters feel about this, now that they know that they're bound to die over and over and be brought back because you have to do your Pneuma Analysis or reach the final stage of Limbo?

But that's pretty much it for now, I think I got most thoughts out of my system! Thank you for reading!

[bellamioneotp]

Most Famous Bellamione Fics

This fic list got voted on my poll, so here it is! The fics that the Bellamione nation was built on.

All fics are on Fanfiction.net as it was the OG site for our Bellamione foundations.

Those Gilded Chains we Wear- This fanfic was published around 2012 and basically launched the Bellamione fandom into the stratosphere. The popularity of the ship began to pick up and more long form fics began to be published. It's considered a cornerstone of Bellamione culture and has inspired countless fics no doubt.

Impossible- This fic predates Those Gilded Chains and is very well written as well. It leans a bit more heavily on Hermione and Bellatrix not getting along at the start but still presents growth in their relationship. I feel this fic does not get as much recognition in the community despite it being one of the rare long fics in 2011 for the ship.

The Dark Corners of the Earth and Murder Most Horrid- Both written by the same author, this writer is still present in the Bellamione community today and writing more. The first fic presents eldritch horror in it and the second one is detective story. Both stories are long and include much worldbuilding. They kept the Bellamione community fed for long stretches of time.

Fractures, Fractures The Last Champion, and Turn Time Series,- All written by the same author, the first and second one feature the OG professor Bellatrix and student Hermione relationship that was fully fleshed out. Their back and forth was always a treat a read, as was the competition and the plot around it. The Turn Time series is also a fun read and though it can be confusing at times trying to figure out what is going on with the plot in connection to all three fics, that is part of the appeal.

Our Mercurial Selves- No longer up, RIP.

No Good Deed- No longer up on any site, this story was intense and very well written. There was always a lot of interaction between the characters and the story unfortunately cut off at a really good climax point.

Lotus Flower- A soulmate AU that sadly is not finished. But it had a good amount of tension in it that would made seeing it unfold fun to read.

Metamorphosis- A fic that has similar vibes and shares story beats to Those Gilded Chains in a good way. It is completed. Not as super popular as the other ones but still worth a read because the reveal of Hermione dating Bellatrix is satisfying.

Future Shocks- Very action based and not much Bellamione until the end, but it still packs quite a punch when reading it. A good example of how to write the horrors of war.

Reign Down- I consider this the dark au fic of all dark au fics. The world building is fantastic and reading the story unnerves me which means it's doing a great job with how it's unfolding. It has not been updated in a while but if you're looking for how a dark au should be structured for Bellamione, this is it.

Time Heals All Wounds- This fic utilized Time Travel in a way not seen in Bellamione fics before and popularized time travel fics as a way to help redeem the relationship between the two of them.

[mallowwblossom]

OUTER BANKS SEASON 4 SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT!!

Ok, so now that JJ is dead, NO ONE can. convince me that Riara WON'T happen in season 5 AND LET ME TELL Y'ALL WHY.

First of all, their chemistry has been there from the start. You could feel it even in season 1, and if you say otherwise, you're lying. They’ve given us so many moments—both direct and indirect interactions.

Have you noticed that when Rafe talks about Kiara, he uses her full name, but when he addresses her directly, it's ALWAYS and ONLY "Kie"?

THAT LOOK??? ARE Y'ALL SERIOUSLY GOING TO DENY THAT LOOK?

Also, remember in season 1, when Pope and Kiara talked, and Pope brought up her "Kook Year"? She reacted badly to that, and considering she was Sarah's best friend back then, a possible fling between Rafe and Kiara could've easily happened and is HEAVILY IMPLIED.

When Rafe picks fights with the Pogues, he never really targets Kiara aggressively(I mean yes he does almost choke her and tries to down her in the sewers but ykwim).For example, in season 1, he pulls her away from Barry, saying she was not the one they were looking for.

And these are only moments from the FIRST SEASON! The fact that are only those present in the first season and some of you still don't believe this ship leaves me flabbergasted.

Their strongest moment was definitely in season 3 with an entire arc of them together in Barbados.

ARE YOU TELLING ME THAT MEANT NOTHING?

Now, yes, Rafe met Sofia and dated her in season 3, but tbh it never felt genuine. Rafe is a twisted man, and it seemed like she was just a replacement for the family he lost. Rafe needs someone whom he can prove himself to, to encourage and love him, partly to prove he can be like Ward, another twisted man who always managed to keep his family together and placed his family first (at least according to his disturbed vision) . Now that he feels "betrayed" by Sofia, I doubt we’ll see her again.

ALSO THE RIARA MOMENTS IN THIS SZN WEREN'T GONE AT ALL, THEY WERE ON FULL FORCE.

Call me crazy if you want, but I genuinely believe Riara will become canon. It might even be part of the reason they decided to kill off JJ. Yes, Rudy Pankow didn’t want to continue on the show, but remember that interview where Carlacia said Cleo and JJ were supposed to be a couple? I don’t think Jiara was in the plan from the start; it happened mostly because of fans.

I’m not happy with how they handled this season, and I’ll probably talk about that in another post. I’m definitely NOT happy with JJ’s finale, but I’m excited about this likely-to-happen Riara pairing. And I don't know If It's just me but I'm noticing the writers seem to be pushing a potential redemption arc for Rafe, which I don’t fully approve of—but who knows, that could be another hint for Riara?

---

Side note: If you were in the OUAT fandom in the 2013/2014 I'm telling this is like the Bealfire-Emma-Hook love triangle. Like we all liked I hope Baelfire, but from the SECOND we saw Hook, we all knew Neal was supposed to go. Change my mindddd

MIND YOU ENGLISH ISN'T MY FIRST LANGUAGE AND I REALLY HOPE I MANAGED TO GET MY POINT ACROSS😭

Of course, that is entirely my opinion, but PLS do interact because I'm curious about everyone's take on this. <33

[hehe-hoho-ohno]

Submas canon vs fanon

The entire time I have been in the Submas fandom I have seen a lot of confusion about what is canonical and what is a wide-spread fanon. Both in the sense of people thinking things were canon when they were not, and (more rarely) people thinking things were fanon when they were not. So I thought it might be useful to put together a little guide.

Of course, there is nothing wrong with using fanon. I use most of these headcannons in my own fics because I like them and canon is dumb anyway. (Note: pokemon is a huge sprawling mass and tends to contradict itself, and there have been changes across the various games/manga/anime)

All quotations are taken from bulbapidia.

Nimbasa Trio - FANON

Elesa has no connection to Ingo and Emmet besides living in the same place. There is one interaction between them in Pokemon Masters, and while they are on friendly terms they don't appear to be particularly close. Similarly, the idea that Ingo likes bad puns/Emmet does not stemmed from their fanon friendship with her.

Uncle Drayden - FANON

The only confirmed family Ingo and Emmet have are each other.

Cilan is a huge fan - CANON

Cilan is a fanboy of both of them in the anime.

Ingo is the older twin - CANON

In the original Japanese Emmet calls Ingo "nii-san" which means older brother.

"Do you have any siblings? I have an older brother, Ingo."

- Emmet, pokemon masters

Emmet's joltik hoard - FANON

Emmet's galvantula knows the move cross poison. This is an "egg move" which can only be learnt through pokemon breeding. Since it would take several tries to get this move it probably would have left Emmet with a lot of Joltik. In theory. We don't see Emmet with joltiks in canon.

Ingo's kitty smile - CANON

He smiles like that in the manga. (Admittedly, it's not as exaggerated as the full on :3 people sometimes draw him with.) He also briefly smiles in PLA, but less cat-like.

Ingo's perpetual frown is unintentional - CANON

"<player>! Someone just told me something that troubled me deeply! They said that compared to Emmet, I'm too stiff! But that's just a misunderstanding! I know I smile when I'm having fun! I'd even say that I'm quite proud of how expressive I am when I speak! What? You say you've never seen me smile? I-is that so..."

- Ingo, Pokemon Masters

They are both autistic - FANON

They are related to the twin heros - FANON

They share similar themes and motifs to the twin heros/Zekrom/Reshiram but that's it. They have no canon relationship.

Both of them are heavily coded as autistic. However, it's never been directly stated in the games that they are autistic and (to my knowledge) nobody at Game Freak/Nintendo has confirmed anything.

Ingo has a receding hairline - (debatably) CANON

He is drawn with one in the art book. Does the art book count as canon? Until something in the main games says otherwise, probably. (Though there is some argument to be had that it might be an unflattering haircut instead.)

Ingo arrived in Hisui via wormhole - FANON

"For my part, I simply found myself one day here in Hisui, a region whose name I'd never heard... All I could remember was my own name. I was still standing there in bafflement when the Pearl Clan came to my aid."

- Ingo, PLA. (However, the art book depicts the pearl clan finding him facedown on the ground, so take his standing claim with a grain of salt)

We still don't know how he got there. Similarly, it is quite common to show Ingo arriving during a blizzard/freezing to death and generally in poor health/injured/unconsciousness. But the way he recounts it sounds much more peaceful.

It'a also common to have Sneasler be the one to find him. The art book (of dubious canon) shows a human pearl clan member finding him, and Ingo's quote seems to confirm that. It's possible Sneasler was involved but she isn't mentioned.

Ingo got amnesia from hitting his head - FANON

We don't know how he got amnesia.

Ingo remembers Emmet as "the man in white" - FANON

"I'm starting to recall a man who looked... like me. We'd battle and discuss Pokémon, I think... The words "I like winning more than anything else" flashed through my mind just now..."

- Ingo, PLA, about Emmet

He makes no mention of remembering Emmet wearing white or smiling.

Ingo calls her "Lady Sneasler" - FANON

Ingo only calls her Sneasler, no Lady. In fact, nobody calls her or any of the ride pokemon Lord or Lady because...

The ride pokemon are noble pokemon - FANON

There are 10 blessed pokemon descended from the heros of old, and these pokemon are revered by the clans and have wardens. The blessed pokemon are divided into two groups, the rides and the nobles.

The ride pokemon are not called noble pokemon, and they do not get titles. Mai talks about "the great Wyrdeer" but does not call him lord or noble.

"This suggests that even Pokémon that are not nobles can become frenzied..."

- Kamado, PLA, about the ride pokemon Ursaluna seemingly becoming frenzied

Ingo lives in Sneasler's cave - FANON

We don't know where he lives.

Ingo became a Warden because Sneasler liked him - FANON

"I showed a natural affinity for taming Pokémon, which is why I eventually became a warden. But still I wonder what my true purpose is here..."

- Ingo, PLA

There is no further information about his wardenship. There is no information on what his relationship with Sneasler was prior to him becoming her warden.

Ingo likes having photos because of the amnesia - CANON

"Ah, photographs. I appreciate having physical keepsakes—less ephemeral than memories. Would you do me the honor of posing for a photo with me, <player>?"

- Ingo, PLA, at the Photography Studio

Ingo has been in Hisui for XX years - CANON

The art book uses the placeholder XX for the amount of time Ingo has been in Hisui. Some have taken the double digits to mean 10+, however the first digit could easily be a 0. So, we still don't know. Net 0 information.

Emmet must be taking Ingo vanishing badly - FANON

We have not heard from Emmet.

***

That's all for now! I'm sure I've missed or forgotten something, feel free to add stuff in the reblogs! I might edit the list later to add more if needed.

[sharkboywrites]

My perspective on Curly as a victim of abuse

Tw for abuse (physical and sexual)

Hey mouthwashing fandom, so this is kind of a hard topic for me to tackle, but recently with seeing people’s opinions in the fandom on Curly as a character, I want to put in my own two cents as a victim of abuse.

I want to clarify before I start that I am not a victim of sexual abuse specifically. The abuse I faced was physical that bordered on sexual, but I was never sexually assaulted. That’s why this analysis isn’t about the sexual assault aspects of Anya’s abuse, like her relationship with Jimmy, but rather on the aftermath of the abuse on how the people she trusted (specifically Curly) interact with Jimmy after they know.

For context so people can understand my situation: I was in a very physically abusive friendship that bordered on sexual abuse in my freshman year of high school. Now, through my sophomore to senior year, I was forced to be in the same school as this person. In the same classes, in the same clubs, in the same events, and the same friend group as my abuser.

This is why I relate to Anya so heavily. I understand being forced to stay in situations with the person who abused you and being around people who either don’t know or do know and haven’t done anything/hold them accountable.

Now onto the main topic of my rant: Curly. So far from what I’ve seen, Curly is a hot topic for debate on the morality of his character. Anya confided to Curly about the abuse, and Curly, as far as we can see, didn’t do much. This makes it really easy for people to point fingers at Curly and call him an awful person and say that he is just as bad as Jimmy.

This is where I disagree. I don’t think Curly is a bad person.

Again, I understand the pain of having people do nothing. I have watched people I confided in about the abuse I face completely ignore what I have said and continue to be friends with them. I have had people say that I was lying. I have had people defend them right to my face because “They look like they’re getting better” or “But they seem like such a good partner to their (current) girlfriend!”

I get how frustrating that is. I understand the level of hurt that brings and how unsafe that can make someone feel. But once again, this is something the fandom immediately jumps on Curly for without really looking any further into it.

The thing is, these are people I know at school. These are people who can actively control their situations. These people can stop talking to them, stop giving them rides, etc. to stop interacting with them.

This is not the case for Curly and Jimmy. The most obvious thing being: they’re literally on a ship in space. They are all in a confined space and forced to be together for months on end. On top of that, Jimmy is a very unstable person, and Curly probably knows that. A lot of people like to characterize Curly as the “Oh, but he’s my friend, he wouldn’t do that” guy, but that’s not what happened. He listened to Anya, and while he definitely been more empathetic and done a bit more, he still didn’t deny it.

I personally feel like Curly specifically not denying it means he knows that Jimmy did it, and that he knows Jimmy is a bad person.

All of these are faults of Curly’s. He let someone he knew onto was dangerous onto the ship, and when he did something bad, he didn’t do enough to help despite being the captain.

But one thing we do know is that Jimmy is a manipulator. He will manipulate or threaten anyone to get what he wants. First off, we don’t know if Jimmy manipulated Curly to give him the job in the first place, which could have very much happened. Second, he was seen manipulating Curly AGAIN in the psych evaluation scene, the birthday party scene, and near the end of the game when Curly confronts him after talking with Anya.

Every single thing Curly falls short on is a direct effect of Jimmy’s manipulation in the first place. Yes, he absolutely could have done more in both situations, but Jimmy manipulated into him into letting him off easy.

On top of being manipulated by Jimmy, there wasn’t much Curly could do. He can’t just throw Jimmy out into space and he couldn’t let Anya have the gun because he can’t have his crew killing each other obviously (even if Jimmy is a threat).

The only critique I have of Curly at this point is doing more to protect Anya. He could have made a better effort to keep Anya safe from Jimmy and really put his foot down when confronting him.

Although again with all of this, it just boils down to Jimmy. If manipulation doesn’t work with Jimmy, then he uses threats or brute force. Curly probably knows that Jimmy is unstable, and probably didn’t know what he would do if he had been firm with him or done literally anything that could be seen as against him, evidence being the birthday scene. Everything that happened and everything Curly fell flat on was becuase of Jimmy’s manipulation and unpredictability tendencies, so really, it’s not 100% his fault.

Tldr; While Curly could have done a little more and should be critiqued, all of the stuff he falls flat on is because of Jimmy just like everything else in the story, so people should stop treating him like he’s a bad person or could keep Jimmy in control because he was a victim too.

[hxhhasmysoul]

jjk tags and fags - translator assigned genders / fandom assigned genders

The people who translate this manga and anime just can't fucking help themselves with constantly assigning genders to characters.

Yuuji is not gendering Uraume in any way in what he says in the manga:

And he says the exact same thing in the anime: Ore dake hyoyketsu ga amakatta Sukuna kanren dana. That roughly translates to: The ice around me was half-hearted likely due to the connection with Sukuna.

He doesn't mention Uraume by name, which is very typical in Japanese which is a very context reliant language. But in the context it is clear that he is referring to Uraume's connection to Sukuna.

Uraume's gender is ambiguous on purpose, Gege is very deliberate in this.

Uraume of course isn't the only one.

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Other characters and their tags and fags.

Kenjaku

People who know them closely, like Tengen, always refer to them without gendering them. Sometimes the people who don't know them well gender them according to presentation like Takaba, or like Chousou who heavily associates Kenjaku with Noritoshi Kamo. And also those who think Kenjaku is Getou.

The fandom is super bad about Kenjaku, people insist on calling them he/him and making really homophobic and transphobic comments regarding their motherhood. Or the Getou fans just erase Kenajku and pretend that everything Kenjaku does is actually Getou...

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Tengen

She literally in open text says how she wants to be gendered. People use the preface where she says that technically as a cursed spirit she doesn't have a gender to pretend the next line doesn't matter. When the opposite is actually true. Even if Tengen could decide to forego having a gender after her evolution, she says nah, grandma, don't call me a guy. And then proceeds to indulge in masc presentation, Queen!

I personally get more annoyed when people use they/them for Tengen than he/him. The he/him people usually just read casually and remember all the times the translators called Tengen master and they haven't really paid that much attention to her scene with Yuki. But I've seen people use they/them on purpose to ignore Tengen's words.

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Kashimo

Kashimo is never gendered by the other characters. They use the personal pronoun "ore", which is associated with men but not used by them exclusively. It is rather harsh sounding pronoun, and as @/cursedvibes says it fits Kashimo who speaks in a crude and masculine way. Kashimo's modern day presentation isn't very gendered looks wise though.

But presentation =/= gender. Regardless if it's looks or speech.

Fandom will say well in the past life they looked like a guy and it's just rude to assume based on that :/

Also even if, maybe new life new gender who knows.

If Gege was trying to obviously gender Kashimo the 3rd person pronouns were right there yet remained unused.

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Kirara

I've written about Kirara's pronouns before.

I read Kirara as a woman and I explain why in the post above. I don't mind non binary readings because it's really not super clear.

And I don't even have some huge issue with people calling Kirara a high femme boy, though I personally don't read her like that at all.

As long as it's done in a kind and not transphobic or homophobic way. But alas the fandom is there to disappoint quite often.

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Angel

I don't know how are people confused about her gender this far along. I didn't remember that her gender was revealed when she actually started interacting with the other characters because Tengen'd spoken about her many chapters earlier. But Angel is very clearly gendered as "she/her". And she's been in the story for many chapters now.