#yeah they’re an athletic couple too

[fijiwater33]

Anya and Damian have a back and forth friendly yet competitive rivalry throughout the years when it comes to sports. The two of them being in the top 10 most athletic students at Eden they try to one up each other in solo sports

Damian’s got her number in Judo because he’s got the smooth techniques and sweeps her easily, but Anya has that lower center of gravity and explosiveness that always gets him pinned in wrestling.

Anya also got him beat in tennis thanks to some lessons from her mama, and Fiona, but Damian is a better swimmer because of all his time at the lake.

Lots of back and forth in their rivalry that attracts the other students to come to watch them whenever they go at it; which causes a betting ring that gets shut down quickly by Henderson after the second time they have a match.

But ultimately the rivalry will pause when they have to team up against Bill Watkins in pretty much every team sport, and it’s those times that tell them they make a great team.

[nadvs]

please can we have sleeping with the enemy reader taking care of rafe with his hangover (from your last blurb) 😚😚

aaaa yes omg the fluff! (and the everyone but them can see it trope!) (and the overdue confession!) 🙂‍↕️

based on this fic, continutation of this blurb

rafe can’t even open his eyes yet. he feels like he’s an inch away from death.

about a month ago, he moved out of his dorm and into a house with a group of his teammates. it was a nightmare securing a lease on a house because of the reputation athletes have left on the landlords off campus.

but because rafe was the one who worked so hard on getting the house, and because he’s the team captain, he got the biggest and best room, ensuite attached.

it’s in the top floor. it’s quiet. it gets the best ac. but no amount of ac can make the sickening heat of the hangover he has this morning any better.

he finally opens his eyes. she’s not beside him. if he remembers correctly, he asked her to sleep over last night. and… goddamn it, he called her his girlfriend.

there’s a good chance he scared her away. they’re best friends who hook up sometimes. that’s it. no matter how much his teammates - at least the ones who have the balls to - fuck with him about it.

a few nights ago, a girl struck up conversation with rafe at a party and one of his buddies told her not to bother because ‘he’s basically married’ and the crazy thing is, he let her believe it. he hasn’t hooked up with another girl in ages. he hasn’t wanted to.

it got to him. maybe that’s why he slipped up last night, calling her his girlfriend. if he remembers right, it’s like they agreed to being something more in a roundabout, drunken way. or maybe she was just humoring him and is planning to let him down easy when they’re both sober.

she’s in the kitchen, wearing one of rafe’s shirts, cutting up what little fruit the guys have lying around. the blender was a bitch to clean, tacked with residual protein powder.

she’s awake before everyone, making rafe a smoothie to help cure his hangover. this is 100% girlfriend behavior. she’s doing the absolute most. she knows that.

she tells herself it’s because they’re best friends. she’d do the same for any other friend. but doing it for rafe feels so much more gratifying than if she did it for anyone else.

as she drops banana slices into the blender, she thinks about the regret that washed over rafe’s face last night.

she wonders why he so obviously wished he hadn’t called her his girlfriend. was it because he accidentally exposed what he really thinks of her? or because he didn’t want her to get the wrong idea?

she blends the smoothie, cleans up and pads upstairs to rafe’s bedroom. when she opens the door, he’s sprawled out on his bed, down to his boxers, the duvet half-covering his body.

she’s seen him naked so many times before. but this weirdly feels like it’s the most intimate they’ve ever been.

“did you take my clothes off last night?” rafe grumbles, staring up at the ceiling.

“somehow,” she answers. “i fell on my ass trying to pull your jeans off.”

“oh, yeah,” he laughs. he heard her fall to the floor in the dark. it was hilarious. but then he clutches his head. even laughing hurts. “fuck.”

“imagine how bad you’d feel if i didn’t force water on you last night. you’re welcome, by the way,” she says.

she places the glass on the nightstand and sits on the edge of the bed, glad she only had a couple of drinks last night.

“i made you a smoothie. you need to replenish.”

his tired blue eyes finally land on her. he takes her in, the way her brows are knitted in concern, the way she looks in his shirt.

“and your blender was disgusting,” she adds. “it’s pretty sad that a whole group of grown men don’t know how to properly wash dishes. it took me forever to clean it.”

“you’re talking too much,” he rasps, massaging his temple with his thumb.

normally, she’d tease him back. she knows he’s joking. but the joke doesn’t land. she looks away.

in the sober brightness of the morning, she realizes she feels stupid. they agreed they were just friends, but she’s playing house and acting like a girlfriend to someone who either doesn’t want her like that, or does and won’t admit to it when he’s not drunk.

she doesn’t mind taking care of him. but she’s catching feelings. how can she be friends with someone when every second that passes that they’re not more than that feels like a little dose of rejection?

they’ve always been direct with each other. at some point, that stopped. at least on her side.

“i’m fucking with you,” rafe clarifies. “thank you.”

she scoffs. he hardly ever has manners. she must really look mad.

“sure,” she says. she leans forward, picking up and handing him the smoothie, knowing he’s too tired to get it himself. “do you remember what you said last night?”

rafe’s eyes dart away. he rakes back his tousled hair, sitting up slowly to hold the smoothie. tortuously slow, he takes a sip, making her wait for his answer.

“what’d i say?” he mumbles.

she tilts her head, her lips in a firm line. he said he wouldn’t be embarrassed the next day. he’s acting like he is now, though. or maybe he really doesn’t remember.

she suddenly feels bad for pushing this heavy of a conversation on him when he’s clearly exhausted and feeling so terrible.

“we’ll talk about it later,” she says. it gives rafe a wave of anxiety. maybe she’s planning to let him down gently. to tell him they can’t be more than friends. “hydrate, got it?”

she stands, pulling his shirt off over her head.

“where are you going?” he asks, watching her bend over to pick up last night’s clothes.

“home,” she says. “text me if you wanna hang out later when you feel human again.”

she leaves. he lets her.

he’s in a funk the rest of the morning. he eventually finds the strength to take a shower. he eats his first meal at three p.m.

when he sees the blender on the drying rack in the kitchen, his chest tightens. this isn’t normal. he shouldn’t miss someone he saw just this morning. but he does.

and whatever happened last night is hanging over him. if he knows her, he knows it’s bothering her, too.

he texts her: feeling human again. u busy?

she replies: i’m free and starving.

he smirks at his phone. pick you up in 30

when she sinks into the passenger seat of his suv, she’s uneasy. jittery. as if this is a first date. but when she takes in how tense he looks, she pushes all her feelings away.

“what’s wrong?” she asks. “you good?”

“i’m… this feels weird,” he admits. she stills. so it’s not just her who senses it.

“weird how?”

“what do you wanna eat?” he asks. “where am i going?”

“you’re staying here until you tell me what’s up.”

rafe chews on his lip. he turns his key, shutting the car off, parked in front of her dorm building. he knows there’s no point in arguing with her. she can be stubborn.

“weird how?” she repeats.

“like… i’m nervous or something.”

rafe has known for a while now that he’s someone else around her. or maybe he’s actually himself, and she’s the only person who coaxes it out of him.

“nervous?” she echoes. rafe is only ever nervous before an important game, and even then, he’s more hyped up to win than anything.

he can’t take it anymore. he’d rather rip off the bandaid.

“be straight with me,” he says. “what’d i say that you wanted to talk about?”

she can’t recall the last time she felt so shy around him, if ever.

“do you remember calling me your girlfriend?” she says.

he shuffles in his seat, expelling a heavy breath.

“if i fucked things up, just say it,” he rasps.

“so, you remember?”

“yeah.”

“do you remember how you said you wouldn’t be embarrassed for saying it?”

“yeah,” he mutters sharply. “can you get to the point?”

“can you not be a dick right now?” she says.

he sighs. can’t she tell he’s anxious?

“are you?” she says. “embarrassed, i mean?”

“no,” rafe begins. “i’m annoyed that i said it. it made things awkward.”

“it did,” she agrees.

“okay,” he huffs. “so what now?”

she clasps her hands together in her lap, looking out at the side mirror. she could just say they can forget about it. grab takeout. go back to normal. but going back to normal kind of feels impossible.

“my friends always tell me we act like a couple,” she finally says. “this morning, i was washing your dishes and organizing your fridge and i thought, they’re right. this is the kind of stuff a girl in a relationship does. but then i was like, no it’s not like that. we’re just best friends. but then last night... you said you’d be a good boyfriend.”

“mhm,” he says, bracing for the rejection. the let’s just be friends. or worse, the things are too weird now and we should probably stop hanging out.

she swallows hard.

“i wanted to know if… did something change? were you just drunk or do you actually want to…” she trails off.

for once, it feels odd saying her thoughts out loud to him. because he was always as adamant about not wanting commitment as she was. things have gotten so messy all because he blurted something out last night.

rafe stares at her profile as she looks out the window. she’d fiddling impatiently, like she was the night they first talked at the bar months ago, waiting for someone to take her drink order.

“the guys mess with me about it, too,” he tells her. “they say we act like we’re married or some shit.”

she quirks her eyebrows. they basically do. they see each other almost every day. they bicker. they’re constantly subconsciously touching, whether it’s through joined hands or bumped knees. they have too many inside jokes. they take care of each other. she reminds him of things he can’t afford to forget, like appointments or exams. he makes sure she eats and he pays for everything they do together.

“i don’t look at other girls,” he confesses. “and i know you get hit on when you go out, but it never goes anywhere. i… okay, yeah, fine, something did change at some point. i don’t know when.”

for the first time since she got in the car, she cracks a smile. they’re best friends who are ridiculously attracted to each other and joined at the hip. if that’s not a relationship, what is?

“are we already kind of dating?” she says, finally meeting his eyes.

rafe breathes a chuckle, the heaviness in his chest lifting all at once.

everything was always so easy with her. he assumed it’s because they had no expectations between them. but that wasn’t it. in reality, they had been quietly meeting each other’s expectations without having to try.

“yeah. we are,” he says.

her eyelids flutter as she looks down, gazing at his hand splayed over the dark denim on his thigh. her stomach is numb. her mind is buzzing.

“how’d you get so lucky?” she teases.

rafe doesn’t even have it in him to joke back. he needs to touch her. he leans forward, cradling her jaw, capturing her lips in his.

they’ve kissed a thousand times before. but never like this. this is a kiss that says there’s an understanding that she’s his and he’s hers. and maybe it took them a while to realize that, but now that they’re here, they’re not going back.

(continuation)

[hypnogold]

Maple Heights 1: The beginning

In the quiet suburban enclave of Maple Heights, everything seemed to have its place. The two-story homes, with their neatly trimmed hedges and spotless driveways, lined the streets in perfect symmetry. It was the kind of neighborhood where everyone waved hello, the lawns were always green, and the local church bells rang every Sunday without fail. Families gathered in the evenings for barbecues, the kids played soccer in the park, and the routine felt timeless.

But recently, something strange had started to creep into Maple Heights. It began with subtle changes that no one could quite put their finger on at first—little things, like men in the neighborhood who began dressing differently, speaking in more structured, rigid ways. Then, almost overnight, more and more of the men started showing up in identical black Fred Perry polos, each one with distinctive yellow details—a thin stripe running along the collar and cuffs, and the iconic laurel wreath logo embroidered on the chest. These weren't ordinary polos, though. The fabric had a glossy sheen to it, almost rubbery or latex-like, and they were always worn with the top button fastened tight.

The Evans family had been living in Maple Heights for a decade now. Paul and Greg, a married couple raising their three sons—Luke, 24; Michael, 22; and Tyler, 20—had chosen this neighborhood for its peaceful atmosphere and sense of community. Paul worked from home as a software engineer, while Greg ran the local bakery that everyone in town loved. The boys were a lively bunch, each with their own interests—Luke was the athlete, excelling in soccer; Michael spent his time writing music and drawing in his sketchbook; and Tyler, the tech whiz, could be found in his room building gadgets from parts he scavenged at local sales.

Their lives had always been filled with laughter and activity. Weekends meant cookouts in the backyard, bike rides around the block, and movie nights with popcorn on the couch. Church wasn’t a big part of their routine, but every Sunday, Greg made it a tradition to bake fresh pastries and drop them off at the church before opening the bakery. It was his way of staying connected with the community, even if they weren’t particularly religious.

But lately, both Paul and Greg had started noticing changes in the neighborhood, especially among the men. It started with Mr. Anderson, two doors down. He had always been friendly—waving to Greg every morning as he walked his dog past the bakery. But now, Mr. Anderson was different. His usual flannel shirts and casual jackets had been replaced by a sleek black Fred Perry polo with yellow details. Even stranger, the fabric seemed almost rubbery, the way it caught the light. And the way he buttoned it all the way to the top, stiffly and neatly—it made him look more formal than usual. His conversation was short, stilted, and somehow… off.

One evening, as the family gathered around the dinner table, Paul brought it up. “Has anyone else noticed how people around here are dressing differently?”

“Yeah,” Luke said with a frown. “A bunch of guys at soccer practice started wearing those weird black polos. I mean, they look cool, but... everyone’s wearing them, like, every day now.”

“They’re Fred Perry shirts, right? But they look... shiny,” Michael added, tapping his fingers against the table in thought. “And they all button them up to the top. It’s kinda weird, like they’re in some sort of uniform.”

“It’s not just the shirts,” Greg chimed in, shaking his head. “People are acting strange, too. Customers at the bakery used to chat, laugh, but now they come in, order the same thing, and barely make eye contact. They’re so... focused.”

Tyler, the youngest, leaned forward, eyes wide with curiosity. “I saw a bunch of them after church last week. They were all wearing those black polos. I thought maybe it was some church thing.”

Paul and Greg exchanged a concerned glance. “It’s like some sort of group,” Paul said, lowering his voice. “They’re all starting to look and act the same.”

Over the next few weeks, the changes in the neighborhood became more noticeable. More men—fathers, teachers, even some of the older teens—were now dressing in the same glossy black Fred Perry polos, the yellow details standing out sharply against the dark fabric. Each man wore his polo the same way, with the buttons done all the way up to the top, giving them a sleek, almost uniformed appearance. Even their mannerisms had changed—conversations were short, their expressions calm, almost vacant.

Luke noticed it most on his soccer team. At first, it was just a couple of the players who showed up to practice wearing the polos. But soon, half the team had swapped out their jerseys for the slick, rubbery Fred Perry shirts. And once they did, their personalities shifted. They became more focused, more intense, and eerily synchronized. Luke, who still wore his usual soccer gear, felt out of place. His teammates, now all dressed in the black polos with their yellow accents, would glance at him with strange looks, as if waiting for him to join them.

“I’m not wearing one of those,” Luke said to his dads one night, slumping down on the couch. “They’re all acting weird, like they’re in some kind of club. And the coach is in on it, too. He wore one at the last game.”

“I’ve seen the same thing with my friends,” Michael added. “They’re always wearing those shirts now, and it’s like they don’t talk about anything else. It’s not like them.”

Greg sighed, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Even the customers at the bakery... I’ve noticed more of them wearing the polos. They don’t smile, they just take their coffee and leave. And today, one of them asked if I wanted to come to some gathering after church this Sunday.”

“That’s the second time we’ve heard about that,” Paul said, frowning. “Tyler, you said you saw them after church too, right?”

Tyler nodded, his eyes wide. “Yeah, they were all standing around talking after the service. But they weren’t really talking like normal. It was like they were all... rehearsed.”

Greg shivered. “I don’t like this.”

That Sunday, Paul decided to see for himself what was going on. After the church service, while Greg was delivering his pastries, Paul slipped into the side area of the church where the men were gathering. As he stood at the back of the room, he watched them closely. Every man was dressed in the same black Fred Perry polo, the yellow details gleaming under the fluorescent lights. Their shirts were perfectly buttoned up to the top, their expressions calm and focused as they listened to the man leading the meeting. His polo looked newer, glossier than the others, and his voice was firm but soothing as he talked about the “importance of unity” and “the future of Maple Heights.”

It was more than just a social group. This was something bigger, something that was spreading.

When Paul got home, he told Greg everything. “It’s not just the shirts,” he said, pacing the living room. “It’s like they’re all part of some bigger plan. They’re getting more men to join them. It’s like the whole neighborhood is changing.”

Over the next few weeks, the transformation continued to spread. Luke’s soccer team was almost fully converted, the boys showing up to practice in their glossy Fred Perry polos, barely speaking to anyone who wasn’t wearing one. Michael’s friends had stopped hanging out altogether, and whenever he saw them, they were dressed in the same shirts, their conversations short and emotionless. Even Tyler’s teachers had begun to show up to class wearing the same outfits.

One afternoon, Greg came home from the bakery with a tight look on his face. He held up a Fred Perry polo—glossy black with the yellow logo and details—and tossed it on the kitchen table.

“They gave this to me today,” Greg said quietly. “They said it’s time for me to ‘fit in.’”

Paul stared at the shirt, his stomach twisting. “We need to figure out what’s really going on, before it’s too late.”

But deep down, they knew it was already spreading faster than they could stop it. Maple Heights was changing, and it wouldn’t be long before the entire neighborhood was transformed, one slick black polo at a time.

The next week...

Luke stood on the edge of the soccer field, his cleats digging into the grass as he stared out at his teammates, all of whom were already dressed in their glossy black Fred Perry polos. Their yellow-detailed collars were buttoned up tightly to the top, and the sheen of the shirts gleamed unnaturally in the late afternoon sun. He shifted uncomfortably in his old practice jersey, the only one left who hadn’t made the switch.

Over the past few weeks, more and more of his teammates had started showing up to practice in the strange uniforms. At first, it was just a few of the guys, but now, every single one of them wore the latex-like black polo. Coach had been pushing them harder too, but in a way that was unnerving. The drills were more intense, more synchronized. The team barely spoke to each other anymore, their conversations replaced by curt instructions and short exchanges.

Luke felt the pressure mounting every time he stepped onto the field. He knew the others noticed that he was the last one holding out. His friends, or who they used to be, barely made eye contact with him anymore. They’d glance his way with strange, expectant looks, as if waiting for him to join them, to give in.

As practice started, Luke could feel the weight of their eyes on him. He jogged through the drills, but something felt wrong. The usual energy of the game was gone, replaced by an eerie, robotic efficiency. His teammates moved in perfect unison, their movements mechanical, their expressions blank but focused. And all the while, Luke couldn’t shake the feeling that they were watching him—waiting for him to fall in line.

“Luke!” Coach’s voice boomed across the field, pulling him from his thoughts. “Come here.”

Luke jogged over, his heart pounding. Coach stood on the sidelines, his own black Fred Perry polo perfectly buttoned, the yellow details gleaming in the sun. He had been wearing the shirt for a few weeks now, and ever since then, practice had felt more like a drill session than a sport. The coach’s eyes locked onto Luke’s, calm but intense.

“You’re the last one,” Coach said, not unkindly, but with a firmness that sent a chill down Luke’s spine.

Luke glanced at his teammates, all of them standing in formation, watching silently. “Coach, I’m just not sure about the mask. I don’t really feel like I need to wear it,” Luke said, trying to keep his voice steady.

Coach smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s not about the mask, Luke. It’s about unity. The team needs to be united—on and off the field. You’ve seen how well we’ve been playing lately. We’re stronger, more focused.”

Luke shifted uncomfortably, glancing back at his teammates, all eerily still, waiting. He didn’t want to admit it, but there had been something different about their games recently. They were winning, dominating even. But it didn’t feel like a team anymore—it felt like something else, something controlled.

“I just don’t think it’s for me, Coach,” Luke said, though his voice faltered. The pressure was mounting, and deep down, he knew he couldn’t hold out much longer.

Coach’s smile faded, replaced by a look of quiet authority. “It’s time, Luke. You don’t have a choice anymore.”

Before Luke could respond, one of his teammates stepped forward, holding out a neatly folded black Fred Perry polo, the yellow details catching the light. Luke stared at the shirt, his stomach turning. The fabric looked slick, shiny, almost alive, and the thought of putting it on made his skin crawl.

The teammate, a boy who had once been Luke’s best friend, met his gaze, his expression blank but somehow expectant. “Come on, man,” he said softly, his voice calm but emotionless. “It’s just a shirt.”

But it wasn’t just a shirt, and Luke knew it. It was something more. The moment he put it on, he would no longer be himself. He would become just like them—another piece of the machine.

Luke stood frozen, his mind racing. He thought of his family, of his dads and his brothers, and how hard they were trying to resist the changes sweeping through the neighborhood. He didn’t want to give in, but here, on the field, surrounded by his teammates and Coach, he realized he was alone. There was no escape.

Coach stepped forward, his hand resting heavily on Luke’s shoulder. “You’re part of this team, Luke. You need to be like the rest of us.”

Luke swallowed hard, his throat dry. He reached out, his hand shaking slightly as he took the shirt from his teammate. The fabric felt slick and cold against his fingers, heavier than he expected. His mind screamed at him to stop, to throw the shirt away and run, but his body didn’t listen.

Slowly, he pulled the black Fred Perry polo over his head. The latex-like fabric clung to his skin, tightening around him as if it had a will of its own. He adjusted the yellow-detailed collar, his fingers trembling as he buttoned it all the way to the top. The moment the last button clicked into place, a strange warmth spread through him, and his thoughts began to blur.

His mind felt foggy, distant. The resistance he had clung to for so long started to slip away. His shoulders relaxed, and for the first time, he looked at his teammates not with fear or hesitation, but with calm acceptance. The shirt fit perfectly, and for a moment, Luke wondered why he had ever resisted in the first place.

Coach smiled, patting him on the back. “Good. Now you’re part of the team, put this on.”

Luke nodded slowly, his mind quiet. He took his place among his teammates, their faces no longer strange or unsettling, but familiar—like they had always been. The game started again, and this time, Luke moved with them in perfect unison, every step, every movement synchronized.

As the sun set over the soccer field, the last of Luke’s resistance faded into the background, replaced by the quiet calm of uniformity. He was no longer an outsider. He was one of them now.

After practice, Luke walked home in silence, the cool evening air brushing against his face. His mind felt strangely still, as if the buzzing thoughts he had carried all day had finally quieted. The black Fred Perry polo with its glossy sheen and yellow details clung snugly to his body, and the weight of it no longer felt strange—it felt… right. The top button was fastened tight, and though he had been uncomfortable with it at first, now it felt natural, like it was exactly where it should be.

Luke walked home from practice, the full-face rubber gas mask still tightly fitted over his head. The dark, glossy material gleamed faintly under the streetlights as he passed through the quiet, suburban streets of Maple Heights. The once-familiar neighborhood now felt distant, his breathing slow and controlled through the mask’s filters, muffling the sounds around him.

His black Fred Perry polo, with its yellow details and buttoned-up collar, clung to him as he walked, the rubber of the mask and the shirt making him feel as though he was locked into something permanent. Each step felt heavy, yet he was calm. His mind was quiet now, his thoughts no longer his own.

As he approached his house, he saw the warm glow of the kitchen lights through the window. For a moment, something stirred inside him—an echo of the boy he used to be, the Luke who would come home to his dads, joke with his brothers, and feel like himself. But the mask pressed firmly against his face, silencing those thoughts. He reached for the door, knowing they would see him like this.

When he stepped inside, the familiar warmth of home hit him, but it felt different. His dads, Greg and Paul, turned from the kitchen counter, their faces going pale as they saw him standing there, dressed in the glossy black polo and the full-face rubber mask.

“Luke?” Greg’s voice was filled with shock and concern, but Luke didn’t respond. He simply stood there, the mask concealing any expression, the filters hissing softly with each breath.

Paul stepped forward, his voice shaky. “Take it off, son. You don’t have to wear that.”

But Luke didn’t move. The mask stayed on, its grip on him firm, the strange calm washing over him once again. He was home, but he wasn’t the same anymore. And as his dads stared at him in disbelief, Luke knew that the boy they once knew was slipping away.

[unfinishedslurs]

eddie's flat ass (steddie)

Dustin whips around as soon as they’re alone. “Steve!”

“I’m Eddie.”

“No, I mean you and Steve. You like him.”

“Of course I like him, Henderson,” Eddie says flatly, pressing a little harder on the gas in hopes of getting to Dustin’s house before he admits something he regrets. “We’re friends. Best buds. A couple of dudes being bros.”

“You’re full of shit,” Dustin says. “I’m not stupid. I saw that. I wish I hadn’t, but I saw it. You’re, like, stupidly into him. I don’t know how I didn’t see it before.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie mutters. His street can’t come soon enough. 

Dustin pushes through. “When are you gonna ask him out?”

“Uh, never?”

“What?!”

“Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies,” Eddie rolls his eyes. “Nothings going to happen, Henderson. Yeah, I’ve got a stupid fucking crush on your babysitter, it doesn’t mean that Steve’s interested in me. He likes girls, Dustin, did you miss that part in the dossier? He thinks we’re a couple of straight guys horsing around, if he found out I was flirting with him I could be thrown into Hunt the Freak 2: the thrilling sequel.”

Dustin’s mouth snaps shut, and he laughs nervously. “Right,” he agrees. “He likes girls. But, uh, hypothetically, if he was into guys…”

They roll to a stop sign, and Eddie turns away from the road to tell the little shit off. But Dustin’s fidgeting, staring steadfast at the road and refusing to meet his eye. 

“You know something,” he realizes. 

“Uh…”

Eddie’s about to shake it out of him. “You’re hiding something, you little shit. What is it? Tell me.”

“I’m not,” he squeaks. 

“Bull-shit you aren’t. What is it? Is it about Steve?” Eddie pales. “Shit, does he know about me?”

“Well…”

“What the hell?!”

“I didn’t tell him!” Dustin yelps. “If you didn’t want him to know, maybe you shouldn’t have been so obvious!”

“Check your tone,” he snaps, hand shaking as he pulls on his hair. “Shit, shit, shit, okay, it’s fine, I just need to flee the country—“

“Why?”

Eddie is this close to throttling the kid. “What do you mean why?”

“Why is this such a big deal?”

“It could get me killed!” He shouts, banging a hand against the steering wheel. “He could—he could fucking tell somebody, and—“

“He wouldn’t do that!”

“How the fuck am I supposed to know that? You think someone’s a good guy until you’re interested in them, and then it’s all ‘You’re fucking disgusting,’ or ‘Freak,’ or ‘Don’t touch me, you fa—‘“

“Stop!” Dustin shouts, white knuckling the armrest. “Eddie, stop. He’s not going to tell anyone. It’s gonna be okay. It’s fine.”

“It’s not.”

“It’s fine,” Dustin stresses. “Steve doesn’t care if you’re gay. He definitely doesn’t mind you flirting with him.”

“You don’t know that,” Eddie says. 

“Yeah I do.”

“How?”

There’s that deer in headlights look again. Then Dustin takes a deep breath, and his expression turns guilty. 

“I know you’re not supposed to tell people this,” he says, “but you’re freaking out really bad and I’m, like, 99% sure Steve thinks you already know.”

“Steve thinks I know what?”

Dustin tells him. 

Two hours later, he’s still laying on the floor in the trailer, looking up at the ceiling. 

Bisexual. Steve Harrington, the man Eddie’s always hailed as the patron saint of heterosexuality, likes men. 

Might like Eddie. 

“Are you flirting with me?” Eddie blurts out, and immediately tries to bolt. 

He runs face first into a wall and ends up on the ground, wishing the demobats had just killed him. 

Steve appears in his line of vision, standing over his sprawled body. Eddie is treated to a wonderful view, eyes moving from his long, athletic legs to his crotch to his chest and broad shoulders, and finally reaches his face. His very amused face. 

Eddie’s entire body lights on fire. 

“What the hell was that?” Steve asks, laughing. 

“Uh…”

“Wile E Coyote over here. Seriously, man, that was some Loony Toons shit. I’m embarrassed for you.”

“Oh my God, shut up,” he groans. “Just let me die.”

“No way in hell. Sorry, Munson, I put too much work into saving your flat ass to throw it away like that.” Steve grins, holding a hand out for Eddie to take. He ignores it, rolling over so Steve can’t see how red his face is. 

“My ass isn’t flat,” he mumbles into the carpet. 

“Oh, it is,” Steve says cheerfully, nudging said ass with his foot, because he’s a bastard. Eddie doesn’t know why he likes him so much. Everything he does is catastrophically bad for his continued survival. “It’s cute though. I like it.”

“Henderson said, uh, that you were…umm…maybeflirtingwithme?” Eddie finishes in a rush. 

“What?”

Steve’s face is open, automatically tilting his right ear towards Eddie. Eddie doesn’t know if he’s aware that’s something he does. Robin says it’s because of all the concussions, his left ear just isn’t what it used to be. 

Eddie sags, unable to lie to his wide-eyed confusion. “Dustin said you're flirting with me.”

Steve stares at him. 

Eddie fidgets under his incredulous gaze, growing more anxious by the minute. Oh God, Dustin was wrong. Dustin was wrong about everything. Steve probably doesn’t even actually like boys, Jesus. The whole thing is obviously a bust. Eddie needs to cut and run, maybe make some bullshit excuse about his uncle needing him home even though Steve knows Wayne’s working right now—

“You needed Henderson to tell you that?”

[0cta9on]

Beach Day

length: +3k words

Genre: smut

Nmixx Haewon x Male Reader

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

The bell rang, signaling the end of the day. Your teacher dismissed the class as the sound of shuffling bags and miscellaneous chatter filled the room.

“Yo, Minhyuk!”

You turn to your best friend, Junseo, who was sat next to you.

“Did you invite anyone to our beach party yet? Jaewon and I already got Lily and Yoona to tag along,” he asks. Your stomach dropped at the question.

“U-uh, no, sorry. I think I’ll just sit this one out, you guys go and have fun without me,” you say.

Junseo sighs, annoyed at your lame excuse. “Dude, quit being a bitch and ask Haewon already. The worst thing she’ll say is no.”

You and your friends had planned on going to the beach this weekend, and Jaewon suggested that all three of you would invite a girl to make things more “interesting”. It’s not that you didn’t have any girl to invite; it’s quite the opposite. You had your eyes dead set on one girl: Oh Haewon. You’ve had a crush on her since you first laid eyes on her and you would gladly sell your limbs if it meant getting to spend one second alone with her. There’s only one problem - She’s the most popular girl in school, and you were just… You.

“That’s the thing, Junseo. She’s obviously gonna say no,” you reason as you grab your things and exit the classroom, Junseo following closely behind you. 

“Why do you think we invited Lily and Yoona? Those three are close, of course Haewon is gonna say yes.” Junseo suddenly grabs your shoulders, stopping you in your tracks. “Speak of the devil, they’re right there.” He points towards the end of the hallway where, lo and behold, Haewon, Lily, and Yoona were talking.

You gulp as your throat suddenly becomes dry. Even in a simple school uniform, she was the most beautiful girl you have ever seen. The overwhelming feeling of attraction towards her makes your heart race, which has the unfortunate side effect of turning you into a blubbering nervous wreck.

Junseo starts pushing you towards her. “C’mon dude, just go and ask her.” You try to stop him, but your legs are practically wet spaghetti noodles at this point. Before you know it, you find yourself right in front of the three girls, their eyes staring back at you.

“H-Hae… H-hhhhh… Hi…” you stutter breathlessly. Junseo smacks the back of your head, bringing you back to your senses.

“Hello ladies, my friend Minhyuk here has something to ask Haewon,” he says, patting your shoulder reassuringly.

You awkwardly clear your throat, staring at the ground as you’re too intimidated to look her in the eye. “U-uh, do you wanna… go to the beach with us tomorrow?” You brace yourself, expecting rejection.

“Yeah, sure, sounds like fun!” she says in a bright, cheery tone. You couldn’t believe your ears at first. Your lips curved onto a goofy smile as Junseo held you up from fainting, your legs reduced to jelly.

“Cool, we’ll see you girls tomorrow then,” Junseo says as he drags you away. Right as you round the corner, you see Haewon and the other two giggling amongst themselves.

______________________________________________________________

*Beep beep beep*

You groan as you shut off the alarm on your phone. 7:00 am. You had a couple hours before Jaewon would pick you up for your beach trip. The excitement from being able to spend alone time with Haewon made you restless, so you decided to put in a quick workout to make sure you looked your best for the beach. While you weren’t an athlete like Junseo and Jaewon were, they always forced you to go to the gym with them, resulting in you having a pretty solid physique that you hoped Haewon would notice.

Time flies by, and after a shower and getting your stuff ready, you hear a honk from outside, signaling Jaewon’s arrival. You head outside and see Junseo hanging his head out of the passenger side window.

“Yo Minhyuk! Hurry up and get your ass in the car!” he yells, a mischievous smirk adorned on his face. You give him a weird look before opening the door to the back, only to be faced with Lily and Yoona.

“Hey, Minhyuk.”

“Hiiiii.”

You give them an awkward nod, feeling a little confused. You assumed the girls would be going in a different car and the three of you would meet them at the beach.

“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, I went ahead and picked up the girls since they live close,” Jaewon says, looking at you through the rear view mirror with a smirk on his face. Jaewon was the most soft spoken out of the three of you, but he always had some kind of trick up his sleeve. You scoot next to Lily, oblivious to whatever he was planning.

“Alright, we just gotta pick up Haewon and then we’ll be good to go. The back is only meant to seat three, but I’m sure you guys don’t mind squeezing her in there, right?” Jaewon says, his smirk growing into a full on toothy smile. Your eyes go wide with shock as the realization hits you - he was planning on smushing you in the back with Haewon. While you weren’t completely opposed to the idea, you can only imagine how much of an awkward mess you’re going to be with her practically breathing down your neck. After a short drive, Jaewon stops in front of what you assume is Haewon’s house.

“I’ll tell her that we’re here,” Lily says, typing on her phone. You gulp, suddenly feeling very anxious. The girl of your dreams was about to be squished next to you and you were almost 100% sure that you would find a way to fumble this. While lost in thought, the car door opens, revealing a smiling Haewon wearing baggy sweatpants and a white, tight fitting tank top that accentuated her breasts.

“Hey guys!” she greets. Lily and Yoona greet her back, while all you can muster is an awkward hand wave.

“Yo Haewon, are you alright with squeezing in the back next to Minhyuk?” Junseo asks, a sly twinkle in his eyes. Your only wish right now is to strangle his neck with the seatbelt.

“Yeah, that should be fine,” Haewon replies as she scoots next to you. You give Lily and Yoona an apologetic look as you push them to make room for Haewon. Miraculously, the four of you are able to successfully pack together like a can of sardines. The soft skin of Haewon’s arm brushes against you, causing your cock to spring to life from the sudden contact. You mentally facepalm as you try to focus on something else, hoping none of the girls notice your bulge.

“Yoona, you can come sit on my lap if it’s too cramped back there,” Junseo says.

“In your dreams, pervert,” Yoona says, grimacing. The rest of the car erupts into laughter while Junseo sulks in his seat.

______________________________________________________________

Junseo and the girls fell asleep on the drive to the beach, while you were way too excited to even think about sleep. 

“Wake up y’all. We’re here,” Jaewon says, shaking Junseo awake. All of you step out of the car, taking in the warm sun and the salty scent of the ocean. You, Jaewon, and Junseo grab your stuff from the trunk while the girls excitedly run towards the sea, kicking up sand behind them.

“Yo Minhyuk, did you have fun back there?” Jaewon teases. You punch his arm in rage while he chuckles at you.

“I fucking hate you, man.”

Junseo wraps his arm around your shoulder. “Chill out dude, we’re just trying to help you out. Remember, you would have bailed on us if I didn’t shove you towards Haewon.” He slaps your back before heading in the direction of the girls.

“He’s right. You're basically a mess without us,” Jaewon says, snickering to himself. A feeling of determination suddenly fills you up. You were dead set on having a good time with Haewon and, if things went well, you would confess your feelings to her by the end of the night. With a huff, you march through the sand, following behind your friends.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been to the beach,” Haewon remarks. “Thanks for inviting me, Minhyuk.” She turns to you, flashing a bright smile.

At that moment, all your confidence immediately leaves your body. “Y-yeah, n-no problem, hehe…” you stutter awkwardly. To make things worse, you catch Haewon covering her mouth in an attempt to hide her laughter.

Jaewon places a large picnic blanket on the sand while you set up the umbrella. Junseo sets down a bag of snacks and a cooler full of drinks, completing the preparations. 

“Thank you boyssss,” Yoona says. “Alright, let’s hurry up and get in the water!”

The three of you can’t help but stare in awe as the girls start stripping, revealing their bikini clad bodies underneath. While Lily and Yoona had nice bodies, all of your focus was on Haewon. Her bright yellow bikini top revealed a generous amount of cleavage, while her matching bottoms left practically nothing to the imagination. You felt yourself drool as you imagined getting to explore her smooth curves with your hands.

“Hey perverts, are you gonna join us or not?” Yoona yells, snapping the three of you back to your senses. Jaewon and Junseo quickly discard their shirts before running into the ocean, joining Lily and Yoona. You start to do the same before noticing Haewon, who was sitting underneath the shade of the umbrella.

“Aren’t you gonna go in the water?” you ask her.

“I want to, but I completely forgot my sunscreen at home like an idiot,’ she says, sighing disappointedly. “I’d rather not risk getting sunburnt, y’know?”

You rummage through your bag and pull out a small bottle of sunscreen. “Here, you can use some of mine.” 

She flashes you a bright smile as she takes the bottle from your hand. “Thank you, Minhyuk! You’re a lifesaver!” 

“”Y-yeah, no problem.” Your cock begins to stir in your swimming trunks as you watch her rub the white cream into her smooth skin, your mind filling with sinful thoughts. Then, the unthinkable happens.

“Hey Minhyuk, do you think you could put some sunscreen on my back?” Words you’ve only ever heard in the beginnings of cheap porn films have now come out of Haewon’s mouth. You try to keep a calm expression as she hands you the bottle of sunscreen. 

“Y-y-yeah, I c-can do that,” you stutter, trying and failing to maintain your composure. Thankfully, Haewon doesn’t notice as she lies on her stomach, giving you the perfect chance to ogle her cute ass, barely covered by her bikini bottoms. With trembling hands, you squirt some sunscreen on your fingers and begin gently massaging into her back. 

“Mmmmm, you have such strong hands,” she says, moaning from your touch. You felt your heart pound in your chest with excitement as your hands caressed her lower back. Her skin was as smooth as you had imagined, your fingers easily gliding over her curves. This intimate situation felt like a dream come true that you never wanted to wake up from.

“Oh Minhyuk, that feels so good.” You felt your ears burn bright red as your cock stood at full attention. Everything else faded away as you focused on giving Haewon the best massage you could muster. The sunscreen acted as lube as you gently pushed your digits into her back, eliciting more moans. It became a game to you as you figured out which spots she liked most. Your breathing became heavy with arousal as the chorus of Haewon’s moans filled your ears.

Suddenly, Haewon sits up and grabs your wrists, glaring at you. You gulp, worried that you may have taken things too far. Without a word, she pulls you up and drags you away from the picnic blanket.

“U-uh, Haewon? Where are we going?”

She ignores you as she drags you behind a large boulder, away from everyone else. Her demeanor suddenly turns timid as a pink blush appears on her cheeks and her shaky eyes are unable to meet yours.

“Haewon? What’s wrong?” you ask, becoming increasingly bewildered by her behavior. Despite the circumstances, you couldn’t help but find her cute as she nervously twiddled with her fingers, her impressive cleavage on full display.

“U-um, I’m sorry if this is weird, but that massage got me all h-hot and…” Her words trailed off as the pink on her cheeks evolved into tomato red.  You couldn’t believe her words at first. Did Haewon want you to…? Without hesitation, you pulled her closer and smashed your lips against hers. Your gamble pays off as she wraps her arms around your neck, moaning into your mouth. With newfound confidence, your hands explore more of her body, tracing her every curve. Your right hand cups her plump ass cheek while your other hand gently squeezes her breast, giving you the perfect chance to shove your tongue inside of her mouth as she opens it to moan. The sweet taste of strawberry lip gloss covers your taste buds as your tongues squirm in an erotic dance.

You eventually break the kiss as the need for oxygen manages to trump your carnal desires. Haewon stares deep into your eyes as she catches her breath, her hand snaking down your torso before stopping on your erect bulge. A low groan escapes your lips from the contact, sending a wave of pleasure through your body.

“C-can I touch your cock?” she asks, her voice trembling. You always saw Haewon as an outgoing bundle of energy, so seeing her this timid and horny made you go feral. With a nod, you lower your swimming trunks, revealing your rock hard cock to her in all its glory. Haewon gasps as she kneels in front of you, inspecting your full length with wide eyes. The sight of her innocent face next to your cock would be forever etched into your mind. 

“Oh my god, you’re so big, Minhyuk,” she whispers in awe, gently wrapping her fingers around your member. Her hands felt like Heaven against your cock as they clumsily stroked it. “U-um, I’ve never done this before. Can you help me?”

“Y-yeah, sure. Uh, why don’t you try kissing it first?” you suggest. Haewon obediently complies as she places gentle kisses on your shaft, staining it with her lip gloss. Each kiss sends a shockwave of dopamine throughout your entire body.

“Is that okay?” Haewon’s large eyes look up at you, searching for approval.

A smile grows on your face as you pat her head. “Yes, that’s great, Haewon. You should try sucking it now.”

Haewon giggles excitedly before taking the tip of your cock into her mouth, running her tongue against your slit. A moan escapes your mouth as your hands instinctively reach for the back of her head, encouraging her to take in more of you. You would’ve never guessed that she was inexperienced with how easily your cock slides down her throat. The sensation was unlike anything you had ever felt before - pure ecstasy.

“F-fuck, Haewon. You’re so g-good, holy shit..”

Lust takes control of your body, your fingers interlocking with her hair as you roughly fuck her face. Haewon’s eyes well up with tears, but she makes no move to pull away, happily accepting your whole length. Saliva dripped from her mouth, the dirty image only fueling your arousal. Without warning, you shot your load down Haewon’s throat, the heavenly feeling of her mouth becoming too much for you to handle. After what feels like an eternity of cumming, you release her from your grasp. Haewon collapses backwards onto the sand, drool and cum staining her perfect face.

“S-Shit, are you okay?!” you ask, worried you may have been too rough on her. 

Haewon props herself up and smiles at you. “Th-that was… i-incredible…” she stammered, catching her breath. “C-can you put it inside me? P-please?”

Her words reinvigorate you causing your cock to become hard once again. You quickly pull Haewon to her feet and untie her top, tossing it aside to reveal her ample breasts. Your mouth latches onto her tits while you shove your free hand inside of her bottoms, rubbing her moist slit.

“Oh fuck! That feels so good, Minhyuk…” Haewon whimpers as she plays with your hair. Any ounce of common sense left in your mind was thrown out the window as your only goal right now was to pleasure the girl of your dreams in every way possible. Your heart chugged like the engine of a steam train as you worshiped Haewon’s body with every flick of your tongue and every swipe of your finger against her heat. Eventually, you detach your mouth from her breasts, staring into her eyes while you finger her pussy.

You lean into her ear and whisper, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long. I-I like you, Haewon.” You curl your fingers inside of her, coercing a high-pitched moan out of her as her body is reduced to putty in your hands.

“I-I l-like you too, Min- Ah, fuck! P-please fuck me!” she exclaims. Haewon holds onto your shoulders for balance, nibbling on your neck to muffle her erotic noises. Her confession only increased your skyhigh libido, ripping her bottoms away and lining up your cock with her dripping pussy. Slowly, you thrust forward, impaling her with your erection.

“H-holy shit…” she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes.

“A-are you okay, Haewon?” you asked, pausing your motions to check up on her.

“Y-yes, k-keep going please. Fuck, y-you’re so big…” Haewon looked up at you with pleading eyes. You could’ve sworn her irises turned into hearts for a second.

You continue thrusting forward, catching her lips in a kiss that was much gentler than the one before, eventually bottoming out inside of her. Gripping her supple thighs, you mentally thank Jaewon and Junseo for dragging you to the gym as you lift Haewon’s body with ease. You increase your pace, each thrust punctuated by Haewon’s cute whimpers and the occasional “fuck”, “ah”, and “yes”. Her ample breasts bounced in front of your eyes as Haewon threw her head back with pleasure. You still couldn’t believe that you were fucking your crush on the beach.

The pressure built up inside of you as you savored the feeling of her warm, tight cunt around your penis. You did your best to hold on for as long as possible, but the sensation was becoming overwhelming. “H-Haewon… I-I’m gonna… c-cum…” you groaned.

“F-fuck… C-cum in me, M-Minhyuk… I-I wanna feel you fill me up…” The vulgar words coming out of her mouth were enough to send you over the edge as you shot your second load deep inside of her womb. Haewon continued to bounce on your cock, her own orgasm taking over. Your legs eventually give out as both of your naked bodies collapse onto the sand, your cock never leaving the warmth of her pussy. Haewon laid on top of you, planting kisses on your neck and chin as you caught your breath.

“That… was fucking amazing, Minhyuk,” she giggled, tracing random patterns on your chest with her index finger. You wrapped your arms around her, the warm rays of sunshine beating down on the two of you.

Eventually, the two of you get up and put on your discarded bathing suits. “We should do this again sometime,” you quipped. Haewon laughs and grabs your face, planting a gentle peck on your lips.

“I would like that a lot.” Hand in hand, you return to your friend group, ready to enjoy the rest of your day at the beach with your new girlfriend.

[wandanatrules]

Locker Room

Pairing: shy nerdy g!p wanda maximoff x popular cheerleader reader

This is the fic for the request I got literally so long ago I’ll put the request as the summary, I just started winter break so i’m gonna try to write sorry I haven’t posted in forever school has been on my ass

summary: Hiiii, I saw that you were taking requests and I just had to ask, could you do awkward emo!wanda and cheerleader!r where they’re both in high school or college and wanda likes r nd gets all shy and embarrassed around her, so r takes advantage of this and tries to make her as flustered as she can..and wanda

can’t take the teasing one day so she builds up the confidence to ask her out which eventually leads to them having sex in the girls locker room 🤭

warnings: wanda has a penis, oral (w receiving), heavy make out, smut, foul language, there isn’t really that much smut sorry

Even in her sophomore year of college Wanda was still nervous to talk to girls. She wasn’t the most social person, which played a part in it. It wasn’t that she wasn’t attractive enough to get girls, believe me she was.

She had an athletic build and long flowy hair. She ran track in high school and ever since then maintained the abs and the muscles she acquired from that, by joining the soccer team in college. Wanda was the MVP player, which gave her a lot of female admirers. Many of the females at her games, especially the cheerleaders, would make passes at her but she was too oblivious and shy to notice.

Ever since freshman year the only person that Wanda had her eyes on was you. You were on the cheerleading squad, and well known for your looks and popularity. You also liked Wanda, but for some reason she always rejected your advances.

Tonight was the celebration party for the girls soccer team after winning the tournament. The whole team and all the cheerleaders would be there.

Wanda was nervous to go knowing that parties weren’t usually her scene. Even though she was expected to go since she scored the winning goal and led her team to victory.

You and the other cheerleaders were in the locker room getting ready, before you left for the stadium to join the party.

“I’m gonna try to get with Maximoff tonight” you said to your friends while finishing up your makeup.

“Oh, really?” your friend Maria asked, “She’s so nerdy and shy and awkward all the time.”

You smiled and thought back to a couple of days ago when you tried to flirt with her.

Wanda was standing outside of the soccer locker room, right after practice. She was wearing a muscle tee showing off her toned arms and covered in sweat.

“Hey Wans.” You said to her after sauntering over to her, while putting your hand on her arm. “You looked real good during your practice.”

Wanda’s face turned red and she felt herself getting nervous again. “Oh thanks y/n.” she said while nervously playing in her hair, “I was working on my form for the tournament.”

“Yeah, I bet you're gonna win it for us Wanda, and when you do i’ll give you something to celebrate.” You said in her ear with a seductive voice, before walking away with a sway to your hips.

Wanda let out a deep breath after you walked away, cursing herself after feeling her erection hardening.

As you reminisced in the memory of how cute Wanda looked all flustered you couldn’t help but wait for you to get to the party and see her. You just knew that tonight would be the night you would get your hands on her.

It was later that night and Wanda was talking to her friends from the soccer team, while nursing a drink at the party.

“I’m telling you Wanda, she wants you.” Natasha said, trying to convince her to go over and talk to you.

“No I don’t think so, she’s just friendly.” Wanda insisted while looking over at you.

You were at the other side of the party making eye contact with her, while seductively sucking your straw between your teeth. You lifted your hand and waved her over.

Wanda tensed and looked behind her, not believing you were beckoning her.

“She wants you, you idiot.”, Natasha laughed, as she shoved her over to you. “Good luck.” , she called out behind her

Wanda nervously walked over to you, wiping the sweat off of her palms on to her pants.

“Hi Wanda.” You husked looking up at her with your best doe eyes. “Let’s dance.”, you said, putting your drink down and leading her to the dance floor by the hand.

The song had just happened to change from some loud rap music to a slow and sexy RnB song. You used this to your advantage as you wrapped her arms around your waist and began to sway.

Wanda, tensed not knowing where to put her hands, trying to be respectful of her touches. You sensed this nervousness and placed her hands on your butt.

“You know Wanda, literally everyone has hit on me and asked me out except you. I’ve never had to make the first move like this. Do you not think I'm pretty, Wanda?” You said with that sickly sweet voice that drove Wanda crazy and iginitied a stir in her pants.

“Oh, no y/n definitely, i think you're absolutely gorgeous.” Wanda said nervously, careful to not hurt your feelings.

You turned around to face her with a smile, “That’s exactly what I was hoping you would say. You better come with me so I can give you your surprise for winning us the game.

You took her hand and led her through the crowd out of the party, into the locker room. You pushed her against the wall and kissed her roughly, grabbing handfuls of her arm muscles and abs.

“You know Wanda, I love when I talk to you after soccer practice. When you’re all sweaty and your muscles are all pumped. I use that time to tease you and get you all worked up, and secretly watch you sneak back into the locker room to take care of your little problem.”

Wanda’s lips parted when she felt your hand grip her length and slowly rub up and down.

“Damn Wanda you’re so hard.” You whispered in her ear. “You gonna fuck me?”

Wanda stammered too nervous to respond, lost in the pleasure of you rubbing her length.

“Or did you want me to fuck you?” You said with a smirk as you pushed her down onto the bench with a hand on her chest.

“Yes ma’am you can do whatever you want.” Wanda said repeatedly nodding

You slowly pulled down your panties from under your dress and threw them at her before loosening the straps on your shoulders and pulling the dress down.

Wanda put the panties in her pocket before you pulled her belt off and ripped her pants and boxers down.

You gripped her length, roughly stroking it up and down. Loving the way her face contorted in pleasure and over stimulation. You looked up at her with those big round eyes as you slowly sucked the tip between your lips, before going deeper and deeper.

“FUCK y/n” Wanda groaned thrusting her hips up into your mouth as she holds down your head. The muscles in her arms straining she roughly fucks your mouth. You hold onto her chest to brace yourself as you move your mouth faster.

“Damnit fuck that was so good y/n thank you” Wanda said flustered trying to catch her breath

“That’s so cute Wans, you don’t have to thank me.” You said looking up at her with a smile while licking your lips. “But I do know how you can repay me”…

[dontexpectmuch]

hey love! if ur still taking requests, maybe smth along the lines of taking a fun class w jude? can be any class - cooking, painting, dance, etc! 🤍

the sound of couples talking amongst themselves filled the room, sunlight shining through the windows and musicians getting ready to play their instruments.

you and jude were a part of the many couples that attended this class, a dance class specifically. it didn’t take a lot to convince him to join you, he was being even happier than you to participate.

your eyes trailed down his athletic body, over his torso hidden behind a plain black t-shirt, over his muscular thighs that had grey sweatpants stretched around them. his gaze was fixated on the other couples, watching them as if they were some prey, him being the predator.

as you began to open you mouth with the intention to comment on his gaze, he beat you to it, moving closer to your body, voice low, “we’ll definitely beat them, love. they got nothing on us.”

outraged, your eyes widen while looking at your boyfriend, “jude! this isn’t the copa del rey! all of us are part of my cousins wedding program.” you remind him, though he just shook his head.

“nah, we have to be the best couple. look at those over there, thinkin’ they’re better than us.”

sighing, you just shook your head, holding his hand in yours as you listen to the instructions given by the teacher.

“it’s simple! you just go back and forth twice, move to the left, then back to the right and start again.” his voice was booming through the room, however the teachers face was decorated with a smile, eyes shining.

as the music started playing, every couple got in position, eyes following the moves of the instructor. jude and you did the same, one of his big hand rested on your hip, while the other held your hand in his. your other hand was placed on his shoulder, affectionately squeezing it.

as you looked around, already knowing some of the steps, you noticed judes eyes focused on your guy’s feet. his eyebrows were drawn together, his bottom lip stuck between his teeth.

“you okay?” you spoke up, trying to stay quiet and also focus on the steps.

nodding, he looked up, “‚t‘s harder than i thought.”

a chuckle escaped through your lips, the hand on your shoulder moving to his cheek, lifting his head to face you.

“i think you’re doing great, just focus on something else.” your comforting voice helped jude relax his tense shoulders, his eyes now focused on yours.

you guys continue to dance around the room, exchanging smiles with other couples from time to time. over the time, you noticed jude getting even more confident with his new learned skills, going as fae as spinning you around sometimes.

the room, once filled with silence and the sound of footsteps from everyone, was now engulfed with all kinds of laughter and excitement, the band played one song after another.

“you know,” jude begins, spinning you once more before resting his hand on your hip again, “we would have the best first dance ever on our wedding.”

laughing, your head fell back, “yeah? you think we would need another class for that, too?”

“nah, freestyle exists for a reason.” jude joins your laughter, face nearing yours to press a kiss on your cheek.

you nodded, coming to a halt as the music ends, “they would invent a whole new class to study our dance moves.”

jude put his arm around your shoulder, your bodies facing the teacher, your eyes immersed in one another’s, “word.”

and then you felt all the kind of love and comfort at once, not being able to put it into words. having jude look at you with so much adoration, his smile reaching his ears, it all made you feel like you finally reached home. here, being in his arms felt like the final destination, no matter where you guys physically are.

“should we make out?”

groaning, you push his arm off your shoulder, “leave.”

———————————————

i never proofread my stuff, freestyle all the way

[itsjaywalkers]

a lil smth under the cut for u guys (part 3) <3

(light nsfw)

part 1 part 2

“Well, it’s not perfect, but it’s decent enough, so it’ll have to do,” James says, and Regulus it’s too busy trying to keep his breathing under control to be bothered by the other man’s words. “Relax your shoulders a little, love.” 

“Don’t,” Regulus hisses, even though he isn’t sure himself if that response is because of the nickname, or James’ touch, or James’ closeness, or something else entirely. 

“Don’t what?” James asks, sneaking a hand up and massaging one of his shoulders until both of them sag. 

“You know what.” 

“I don’t even think you know.” 

Regulus huffs loudly, and hates that he can’t argue back. 

“Show me how you do a jab,” James requests, his hands returning to Regulus’ waist after one last press on his shoulder. 

Regulus clears his throat slightly, feeling a bit flustered all of a sudden while he raises his right arm and gets ready to do what James asked. He only hesitates for a couple of seconds before doing the punch, not as confident as he’d usually be after having James criticise him so much. 

He knows he’s no expert. He isn’t even that athletic to begin with. But he still has a boxer brother, which means he’s definitely not as clueless as James is making him out to be. 

Maybe if it were someone else, Regulus would find it in himself to fight back, defend his knowledge and Sirius’ teachings. But, as it turns out, having a professional boxer watching you try to punch is an incredibly humbling experience. Especially one as mind-blowingly good as James. 

Not like Regulus would ever tell him that.

James hums. “Not bad,” he says, and really, it shouldn’t satisfy Regulus as much as it does. “It’s a bit too slow, though.” 

Regulus tilts his head back, in an attempt to look at the other man, but he barely lasts a second after realising how fucking close both of his faces are. 

His heart beats wildly in his chest. He can only hope James doesn’t notice. 

“How so?” Regulus wonders, so relieved to hear his voice sounds completely normal. 

“Jabs focus on speed over strength,” James explains calmly. “It’s a matter of overwhelming your opponent, rather than properly hurting. The punch has to be quick, and once the arm returns, it’s gotta go up, protect your face. Like this.”

He grabs one of Regulus’ arms gently, moving it forward and then back very slowly, to demonstrate how to do it, and then fast, jostling Regulus’ whole body with it. 

“See?” James murmurs, and he could swear that his tone has gone lower. “You don’t have to worry about being strong enough. It’s all about speed.”

“Okay,” Regulus replies with a tiny nod, doing his best to concentrate on what James is seeing, and not on all of the points where they’re touching. Or on how close James is. Or how nice he smells, despite all the sweat—maybe even because of it. “I think I get it.” 

“Yeah? Wanna try again on your own?”

Part of Regulus wants to snark back, argue that it’s only a stupid jab and James is just being picky because he’s a professional boxer and it’s not like there’s an actual science to throwing a punch. But having James holding onto his waist must be clouding his mind, because he just gives another nod, and does his best to replicate James’ movement and speed. 

“Yeah, that’s it,” James breathes out, and Regulus can almost hear his smile. “Very good, love. You’re a natural.”

“Oh, I’m a natural now?” Regulus huffs out, but it comes out more teasing than irritated. 

“Or maybe you just have a great teacher,” James adds playfully, accompanied by a squeeze on his hips. 

“You’re right, Sirius is pretty great,” Regulus responds with a shrug, relishing in the way James clicks his tongue. 

“But I’m better.”

“In your dreams, Potter.”

“Wait, what happened to ‘James’?”

Regulus feels heat rushing to his cheeks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

James chuckles way too close to Regulus’ ear, and his breath hits the side of his neck, goosebumps breaking all over his skin. Regulus has to swallow a very embarrassing and very needy sound before it makes it past his lips.

“C’mon, love, we were getting along so nicely. Don’t try to ruin it now.”

“You’ve finally lost it,” Regulus states, trying to laugh the whole thing off. It probably doesn’t work, though, considering how unstable he sounds. “There’s not a single universe in which you and I get along, Potter.”

“Liar,” James whispers. “I’m growing on you.”

“Whatever gave me away?” Regulus grumbles, sarcasm dripping from his words.

“The fact that you’re letting me touch you,” James murmurs, voice smooth and silky, feeling like a caress. “How you keep leaning against my contact, and catching yourself at the last second.”

Regulus’ breath hitches. “That’s—” 

“The way you’re not even arguing with me anymore. Not really,” James continues, unrelenting, his lips grazing Regulus’ earlobe and making his eyes flutter shut. “If anything, I’d even dare to say you’re flirting.”

“You’re delusional,” Regulus spits, too breathless to sound as furious as he’d like to. “The fucking audacity—”

“And,” James cuts him off, tone so frustratingly smug, “I bet you’re aching between those pretty legs of yours.” 

Regulus lets out an embarrassed noise, barely suppressing the urge to press his thighs together. 

“No,” he croaks out, shaking his head a little and face burning. 

“No?” James mocks him, pressing his smirk behind Regulus’ ear. “Shall we check?” 

One of James’ hands moves slowly, sliding from its place on Regulus’ waist to rest under his navel, fingers playfully caressing his waistband. 

Regulus hates how that mere touch is enough to turn his mind into static. To make his heart stutter in his chest, and the mess in his underwear almost unbearable.

“Potter—”

“No.”

Regulus’ eyebrows shoot up, and before he has the chance to ask, he feels James’ teeth at the side of his neck, nipping teasingly and dragging a fucking whimper out of him.

“What—?!” he begins, completely red in the face and attempting to move away from the other man for the first time since he allowed his touch.

James holds him tighter, bites down harder. “Behave, Regulus, or I’ll fucking make you.” 

Regulus doesn’t listen, despite how the tone of James’ voice makes him tremble like a leaf. He keeps resisting, an outraged sound leaving his mouth while his body betrays him and becomes even wetter. 

“Oh, you don’t get to play the clueless card on me,” James murmurs, his teeth giving way to a devilish tongue that turns Regulus soft and pliant, his attempts at freeing himself growing sloppy, lazy. “I always do my best to be patient, to respect your boundaries and control myself, but you’ve been a damn tease all afternoon, and I’m fucking done.” 

“What the fuck are you even—” 

“Enough,” James growls back, and it’s so commanding Regulus’ mouth snaps shut with a clack. 

There’s a beat of silence, and then James is laughing under his breath. “Good boy.”

It’s filled with mockery, bordering on mean, and yet, it still makes Regulus moan like a fucking bitch in heat, eyes rolling to the back of his skull and body going completely boneless. 

“Fuck,” James whispers, a mix between awed and devastated. “I should’ve known. I should’ve fucking known. Is that what does it for you, baby? You wanna be my good boy?”

Baby. 

Baby. 

Baby. 

Regulus moans again, even though it’s weaker this time, but he still shakes his head, or tries to at least, holding onto the last traces of sanity and refusing to let James win whatever twisted game they’re playing. 

“C’mon, you were doing so well,” James mumbles, tongue licking up the side of his neck. “And you can’t fool me anymore. Not like you ever did, but still. I know you wanna be good for me, baby. Know you wanna please me, let me use you in whatever way I see fit.”

He tries to shake his head once more, but somehow, his brain gets the order wrong and Regulus ends up nodding instead. 

“That’s right,” James coos, dropping a kiss on his skin, long and lingering. “Now, say my name, Regulus.” 

“James,” he gasps almost against his will, mouth moving before his mind can catch up. 

The other man groans and then attaches his lips to his throat immediately after, tongue pressing down as he sucks, the sting feeling absolutely heavenly. 

Regulus tilts his head to the side to give James more space, eyes hooded and limbs heavy, back coming to rest against James’ chest. 

“James,” he says again, without being prompted this time and the word almost sounding like a whine. 

“Fuck, you’re driving me insane,” James hisses against his neck, peppering the skin with open-mouthed kisses, his tongue and teeth mapping out Regulus’ skin. “You don’t understand how long I’ve been dying to do this.”

Regulus whimpers, hands moving on their own volition and reaching behind him until they bury themselves into James’ messy locks. He pulls, a bit harsher than intended, but before Regulus can manage to apologise, James is moaning loudly, the vibrations on his skin making him shiver. 

He pulls again, and James bites down on his throat hard enough to leave a mark. Regulus doesn’t have it in himself to reprimand him, or to tell him to stop. His brain is unable to focus on anything that isn’t James’ mouth working down his neck. 

“We could’ve been doing this ages ago if you weren’t so fucking stubborn,” James sighs, lips caressing his exposed shoulder and dragging another obscene noise out of Regulus. “I knew you wanted it. I knew you wanted me.”

“James—” Regulus pants, apparently unable to speak anything else apart from the other man’s name. 

It’s kind of embarrassing, how pliant a couple of kisses and a few dirty comments can make him. Regulus isn’t usually this easy, especially not in bed; he likes having a modicum of control, always ready to remind his partner that he doesn’t enjoy being bossed around. But, and as much as he hates to admit it, James knows what he’s doing. 

Although, maybe it’s not even a matter of skills. Maybe it’s simply that it’s James, and despite how much he’s tried to deny it, he’s been desperate for him almost since the moment he laid eyes on him. 

“God, baby, you taste divine,” James grunts, sucking on his collarbone almost at the same time that his fingers dip into Regulus’ waistband. They don’t get very far, and it’s more of a playful contact than anything else, but his breath still hitches. “Can’t wait to put my mouth between your legs.”

Regulus makes a keening sound, hips twitching, and James chuckles cruelly against his shoulder.

“You’d let me, right, baby?” James goes on, the hand that had slipped inside the basketball shorts changing its course and travelling up up up, until they’re caressing Regulus’ chest, following the shape of his scars. “There’s no point in pretending you’re not fucking gagging for it at this point. Just look at you. Look at you. I bet you could come from this. From me marking you up while I whisper in your ear.”

“N-no,” Regulus huffs, blinking furiously and doing his best to break out of his daze. “You’re too—too full of yourself. This isn’t enough, it could never be, and I—”

“Not enough?” James questions, stopping his ministrations. Regulus bites his tongue to stop the protest at the tip of his tongue. “Is this your way of asking for more, baby? Because you’re gonna have to do better than that. I don’t listen to brats.” 

Regulus wishes he could scoff, elbow James in the stomach so his touches stop clouding his mind and tell him to fuck off. Maybe even show him how well he can throw a stupid punch. 

But his body isn’t listening to his mind. It doesn’t care about what Regulus truly wants. Or what he’s been telling himself he wants, at least.

That’s why when he parts his lips, none of the curses he’s been preparing come out. Instead, there’s only need and lust. “Please,” he whimpers, closing his eyes tight momentarily. “Please, James, I—I just—”

James shushes him gently while circling a nipple, Regulus’ toes curling inside his toes and cunt clenching around nothing. “Oh, baby. It’s okay. I’m gonna take care of you so well. Give you exactly what you need.”

“Yeah,” Regulus exhales, hands spasming around James’ curls. “Please.” 

“Gonna let me fuck you, baby? Let me finger you nice and open, so you can get ready for my cock?” 

Regulus moans and nods and thrashes around, one of his hands slipping from James’ hair just so he can grab one of James' by its wrist, pushing his arm downwards and hoping to get some relief where he truly needs it. 

James stops right before he reaches his waistband, a cocky grin curving against Regulus’ skin. 

“Well, well,” James breathes. “Aren’t you a needy little thing.” 

“C’mon,” Regulus complains, uncaring of how childish he sounds. He feels too fucking drunk on everything James to be able to think about anything else apart from getting off.

James laughs again, because he’s mean like that, and Regulus can already feel some tears prickling at his eyes out of frustration.

“You have to tell me what you want, Regulus,” James says, and his voice is so damn casual it actually hurts. “This won’t work otherwise.” 

There’s no this, Regulus wants to snap back, but then James is pressing nearer, until Regulus can feel the outline of his hard cock against his ass. It makes him gasp and push back against it, really pleased by the little hiss James lets out at the pressure.

“See what you do to me, baby?” James whispers, dragging his lips over his shoulders, the side of his throat, behind his ear. “We barely did anything, and yet I’m so fucking hard it’s actually painful. You’ve no idea of how many times I’ve jerked myself off to the thought of you. Wishing it was your hand instead. Your mouth. The inside of your cunt.” 

Regulus’ knees shake, a mewl escaping his parted lips, and James’ grip on him turns even stronger. 

“I bet you’ll feel all tight and warm around me,” James goes on, tone husky, words dripping with so much desire it makes Regulus light-headed. “Make the sweetest sounds, too. I used to think you were too uptight and that I needed to fuck the stubborness out of you, but it turns out that you’re real fucking dirty, baby. Grinding back against my cock and opening your legs the moment I praised you a little. Oh, if they could see you now, baby. Big bad scary Regulus Black. Reduced to a pathetic, whimpering mess.”

“Shut up,” Regulus grits out, but he doesn’t stop rubbing his ass on James’ cock, or pulling at James’ wrist insistently, in an attempt to get his hand inside his pants. “You’re all bark and no bite. Spent all these months telling me everything you wanted to do to me, and now that I finally give you a chance, you’re only teasing and babbling in my ear.” 

“Good try, baby, but you should know by now that that attitude of yours only turns me on.” 

“Yeah? Then how come you’re not fucking me yet, huh?” 

James’ other hand, the one that hasn’t stopped gripping Regulus’ waist for a single second, lets go and climbs up, taking a hold of Regulus’ chin. James uses it to tilt his head back, forcing their gazes to meet, and Regulus despises how he feels himself get slicker at the flash of danger on James’ gaze, the sharpness of his smirk. 

“God, the mouth you have on you, baby.” James cocks his head to the side, considering, and he grips his chin even tighter. “So fucking filthy. And so pretty when you beg.” 

“I don’t beg,” Regulus murmurs back, aware that it’s a lie. He still narrows his eyes when James barks out a laugh. 

“Yes, you do. You already have. And you will do so again, if you want to come.” 

“I don’t need you for that. I can just—just walk out of here, leave you hanging and get off all by myself—”

“No, you can’t. I’m sure you’ve also jerked off while thinking of me, right, baby? All that tension, all that repression, I know it took its toll. Did you finger yourself slow and deep as soon as you got home after our interviews? Came with my name in your mouth?”

Regulus only glares at him, not even trying to defend himself. What’s the point, when James can see right through him? Lying won’t do him any favours. 

“You did,” James states, ridiculously pleased with himself. “You’re not gonna go and waste this chance over your wounded pride, baby. Argue all you want, but we both know you’re not going anywhere. Not when you’re practically drooling at the thought of taking my cock.”

“Don’t act like you don’t want it as much, if not more, than I do,” Regulus grumbles. 

James shrugs, leaning forward and forcing Regulus to do the same. Until their noses are grazing each other, breaths intermingling. 

“Never said otherwise,” he retorts with ease. 

“Then what the fuck are you playing at?”

“Nothing, really. Just waiting for you to tell me what you want. I’ll give it to you, baby, I swear. You just gotta ask.” 

Regulus purses his lips, but James does sound sincere, and at this point, it’s not like he has anything else to lose. It’s too late to try and save face, and his dignity, or whatever was left of it, took its leave the moment he allowed James to get this close. 

Besides, he wants this. He wants James. Has done so for a while, probably since the very beginning, and not even he has this much self-restraint.

“Fuck me,” Regulus says in a soft exhale, watching the way James’ pupils eat at his irises. “Please, James, fuck me. I need you inside me, it’s—fucking unbearable, really, and I’m gonna lose it if you don’t—”

“Yes,” James gasps out, nodding fast, moves turning erratic as he finally slips his hand under the shorts, under Regulus’ briefs. “Yes. Of course, baby, anything you want, I’m—shit, you’re so—let me just—”

His fingers rub at his clit playfully, pulling a moan out of Regulus, before they continue their path down, until they’re running through slick curls, teasing at his entrance and marvelling at the wetness they find there. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re fucking dripping,” James whispers in wonder. Regulus can only whimper, pushing against his eager hand. “And it’s for me. All for me. Fucking hell, just—come here—”

It’s when James tilts his head up, clearly wanting to kiss him, that Regulus finally manages to go back to himself. That Regulus remembers where he is, what he’s doing, who he’s doing it with. 

Reality hits him with such harshness that the ground seems to tilt under his feet, leaving him breathless, and dizzy, and having to swallow down a wave of nausea. 

What the actual fuck is wrong with him? 

“Wait,” he squeals, James’ mouth already touching his. “Wait.” 

To the other man’s credit, he does stop immediately at Regulus’ words, pulling back and fingers freezing where they were exploring at his cunt’s entrance. 

Regulus takes a gulp of air, heart rumbling loudly inside his head, his brain screaming at him to get a fucking grip. 

“Reg?” James calls him, a worried frown twisting his features while his eyes roam all over his face. “Baby, you okay?”

“Don’t—” Regulus wheezes out, clawing at James’ arm until he gets the hint and takes it out of his pants. He can’t think with those thick, calloused fingers resting on his cunt. “We can’t do this. It’s—no, James, just—no.”

Something pained flashes in James’ gaze, before it disappears, being substituted by a harshness Regulus has to look away from. “Regulus—”

“No,” he repeats, a lot firmer this time. “I’m not—I can’t, James. I’m sorry, I really am, but I just can’t.”

Regulus doesn’t stick around to hear James’ response, or watch his reaction. He moves away from him, legs shaky but still managing to support his weight, and he exits the ring without daring to glance back.

[starhvney]

𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟑 | 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟔: 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄

𝐂𝐖: blackmailing? kinda, no yeah blackmailing, gene smokes, allusions to reader being paranoid

𝐀/𝐍: so sorry for the long wait on this next chapter, writers block will kill you. i edited but am posting this at 1 am so if there's any typos pls let me know so i can cry about it thanks

𝐖𝐂: 4,900 +

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 ☆ 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 | 𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒

a week passed, then another, then another. it was now officially well into autumn and you had yet to be confronted by ivy again, or bothered by any other student for that matter. 

“an off-season soccer tournament? during school?”

“yeah,” laurance grins, dressed in his soccer uniform and some beat-up sneakers as he walks alongside you and aphmau. “don’t be too sad without me in our classes.”

a playful scoff leaves your lips as you roll your eyes at him, placing a hand over your chest.

“i’m heartbroken, devastated even. however will i survive without you, laurance?”

amused snickers leave his mouth, face scrunching as he covers his face before comically recomposing himself, imitating your dramatic pose. 

“i know, please forgive me. i’ll come back for you, my darling!”

“wait, what other schools are coming?” aphmau questions, brushing past both of your bantering. “enough for you to be out the whole school day?”

he nods, fluffing his hair with his fingers and sighing.

“yeah, nahakra high and… o’khasis prep is coming.” he groans under his breath, shoulders dropping as he shakes his head in disappointment. “that game is gonna be a total shi—“

he clears his throat.

“—i mean, it’ll be… a humbling experience. they’re hard to beat anyways, but our team right now is not doing so well.”

aphmau hums thoughtfully. “well, good luck? i wish i could come watch and cheer everyone on.”

laurance suddenly perks up, taking long steps forward and turning around. there’s a pep in his step as he walks backward, grinning at the two of you. 

“during free period and athletics i think you’re allowed to come watch if your teacher lets you. you should ask.”

“oh? guess we’ll finally get to see how you became the captain your sophomore year.”

he shrugs, lips curling up smugly as he tilts his head back.

“you’ll be sooo impressed.” he gloats, tone humorous.

“uh-huh…”

his eyes focus back on you, eyes glinting in mischief. 

“if you come to watch me, i’m gonna call you out on the field to play on the team.”

“huh?” you raise an eyebrow. “no way, then your team would for sure lose.”

“nah, i bet you’re secretly a pro.”

“i’m not, but aphmau is pretty good.”

the girl looks up, shaking her head. “what? i’m okay at it, but…”

“garroth told me you totally clocked zane in the face when your families went to the park a couple weeks ago.” laurance snickers. “wish i could’ve seen that.”

“rude!” aphmau scolds lightheartedly. “i felt really bad about that!”

“oh, whatever. that little cyclops deserves it.” he rolls his eyes.

“laurance!”

☆

now that you didn’t have ivy breathing down your neck, you felt… really happy going to school. you grew closer with the volleyball team at practice every day, as well as lucinda and a few of the other girls you’d run into in your classes. you ended up seeing that meif’wa girl again too, and the little freshman was sickeningly adorable.

you also met jeffory, and while you felt for poor travis and his one-sided crush on the volleyball captain, you couldn’t blame katelyn for her choice of boyfriend. he had sat with katelyn a few times at lunch, and you’d see him coming in to help with the girls’ after-school practice as you were leaving for the day. you’d yet to find a flaw in him, unless being much too kind-hearted could be a flaw.

speaking of travis, you’d finally met his friend dante that he and aphmau had mentioned a few times. he wasn’t as elusive and mysterious as he had been when he was just a name floating in your brain, and was instead… quite the dork who was trying way too hard to be a ladies man. he was pretty funny, though, so you couldn’t even be mad at his shitty pick up lines and awful attempts at winking. 

although, despite all these new friends and feeling like a normal high school kid again, you still felt on edge. like you were only in the calm eye of the storm before getting your feet swept out from under you by the hurricane.

that hurricane really was imminent, and it came to you in the form of the tall senior you crashed into as you rushed to your next class, praying you wouldn’t be any later than you already were. the boy is much taller than you, and his lean muscles and firm frame didn’t provide a very comfortable cushion for you to run into. stumbling back with a surprised noise, you immediately go to apologize before even looking up. 

“i’m so—“ you start, stumbling on your words as your eyes land on sharp deep blue. “—um… so sorry.”

unruly black hair hangs over gene’s dark lashes as he looks down at you, eyes narrowing and canines peeking out in a cat-like grin. he looks like he had just caught your little mouse tail underneath his sharp claws, and you know that the hurricane’s winds have now swept you back up in the storm.

his tie is loose, top buttons of his uniform shirt undone, sleeves messily rolled up to his elbows. how has he not gotten dress coded for this? scratch that. maybe he did, and he just doesn’t care. 

suddenly he shifts his face from amusement to a rather sarcastic-looking pout, his performance not very convincing with the smug look still shining in his eyes. you’re sure that those upturned, almond-shaped eyes and the dark circles underneath them couldn’t appear innocent even if they tried.

“you know it’s rude to run into people like that, i could’ve gotten hurt.”

you can’t help the unimpressed pinch of your eyebrows at his words, especially as you crane your neck to look up at the boy who nearly knocked you over despite your momentum.

“i didn’t mean to.” your words are more clipped than you mean for them to be, your alarm overpowering the control over your voice.

“running in the halls is against the rules, you know.” he clicks his tongue, shaking his head as you begin to try and walk around him. “but you’d never break the rules, right?”

you pause at the strange inflection in his voice with his last sentence, his words loaded with a different motive. turning around, you see a flash of satisfaction across his face, and you feel like a rabbit just caught in a hunter’s snare. his hand reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone.

“…what?”

long legs stride forward, his torso hunching over as he leans towards you, facing his screen around for you to see. the picture very clearly shows you on top of ivy, hair wild as you pin her down, fist pummeling into her face.

you remember now, seeing him at the end of the hall as you stood up, curiously staring at you. you didn’t remember seeing a phone in his hand, but that must’ve been why he was there.

“i gotta say, you did an impressive number on her. i swear i thought she fucked up your face a little too, but you came back the next day all badass like nothing happened.”

“what do you want?”

“woah,” he grins, holding his hands up in defense. “no need to get aggressive. i just thought you might need some persuasion. to hang out with me and my friends today.”

“…you’re blackmailing me… to be your friend.”

he snickers, sliding his finger across his phone screen to show more pictures. others clearly show ivy being in the fault. one showing her fingers yanking back on aphmau’s ponytail as you two try to walk away, another of you pulling aphmau behind you defensively, and another of her ripping her nails into your hair and face.

“i don’t know if i’d like to call it blackmailing. after all, i could bend this situation any way i want. really, it just depends on if you’d give me a chance. i promise, i’m really not as bad as i seem.”

at first you say nothing, eyebrows furrowed as you try to catch one of the many thoughts that frantically race around in your brain for a solution.

“i’m sure laurance said otherwise,” gene continues. “but we’re really not awful people. i mean, we’re not great either, but we’re cool. besides, i think you want someone like me on your team in case the mrs.ro’meave-wannabe in this picture here decides to yap about what happened.”

you stare at the screen, heart racing. not only were you at risk, but so was aphmau. had he caught her in the halls today, too?

“just give it a try, this is your choice here. why don’t you have lunch with us outside by the bleachers today so we can get to know each other? i know a secret of yours, so if we become friends i can share a secret of mine with you.”

“are you secretly normal?”

laughter bursts from his mouth, and for a moment he looks so genuinely entertained with your words that the youthfulness in his young age actually shines through his rugged appearance. you’re not sure if you maybe secretly pissed him off or if he strangely liked the attitude you were giving him, so you find yourself standing there awkwardly as he gathers himself.

“no, not really.” he begins to walk away from you while shaking his head, more chuckles leaving his throat as he slides his phone back into his pocket and makes his way down the hall. “see you at lunch.”

“…shit.”

☆

you ended up zoning out for the rest of your morning classes, your head empty despite its screams to try and find a solution to this. garroth and katelyn sent wary glances your way pretty much the whole day, but left it alone when you didn’t tell them for the third time when they asked. as the lunch bell rang, you made the excuse that you weren’t feeling the best, and was gonna see if the nurse would give you some medicine. they shrugged, giving you one last worried look before making their way to your friend group in the cafeteria.

you were pretty sure eating outside was against the school’s rules, so your heart was racing when you made your way to the doors that led to all of the athletic fields. after your stressful searching you soon find the three of them behind the bleachers near the soccer field.

gene and the angry-looking boy lounge on the ground, and the silver haired girl is perched on one of the thick beams holding the bleachers up. their attention is immediately set on you as they hear the ground crunch under your feet, all three eyes turned to where you awkwardly stand.

“there she is.” gene gets up and strides towards you, throwing an arm around your shoulder and guiding you closer to his group.

he smells like cigarettes covered by cologne and… paint? your eyes meet a can of spray paint in the other boy’s hand before trailing up to see an sk symbol freshly graffitied onto one of the thicker pillars.

on school property? guess laurance wasn’t exaggerating about them.

“since laurance so rudely interrupted our introduction to you last time, let’s reintroduce ourselves, yeah? i’m gene hyun,” he gestures to himself, deep voice almost lifting in a teasing way  before pointing at his friends. “that’s sasha morozov, and that’s zenix brandt. say hi, everyone.”

“you’re already breaking the rules, i like this new look on you.” sasha speaks up first, lips curling up in a smile that didn’t meet her eyes. “it would be nice to not be the only girl in this group.”

“can’t take the pressure, sasha?” zenix teases with a grin.

“or maybe i just can’t stand your face, zenix.”

“shut up, you love me.”

“i’m not that desperate.”

zenix scoffs. “me neither.”

“will you two quiet down? you’ll scare away our new friend here. hey, we introduced ourselves to you, so now it’s only polite for you to do the same.” gene nudges your shoulder once before letting you go.

you shortly give your name, chest brewing with an uncomfortable fog as you debate just running back inside. either way you risked your reputation, so your feet end up sticking to the ground as you swallow at the dry feeling in your throat. 

“you didn’t get anything to eat?” sasha questions, sleepy eyes pointedly looking down at your empty hands.

you look down at them as well, as if you hadn’t very purposefully walked past the cafeteria so no one knew you were off doing something you weren’t supposed to. you turn to glance back towards the school, before looking back to shrug at the girl.

“um… no, i forgot.”

dark silvery eyebrows turn up unimpressed before she plucks an apple off of her tray and tosses it to you. it catches you off guard and you clumsily catch it, fumbling and nearly dropping it down into the gravel.

“…thanks.”

she shrugs, humming a small “mhm” in return.

“…hm. you know, thinking about it, i dunno about that name.” gene suddenly says.

“right? i think we should give her a nickname instead.”

…what? your name wasn’t hard to pronounce in the slightest. before you can protest they’re already discussing the matter, tossing around name ideas they should give you like you were their new pet.

“what about dolly? since she’ll be running our errands for us like a little doll.”

“no, that’s too much. hm… she really did give a good beating on ivy despite being smaller than her, she’s got claws. how about kitty?”

“hm, a cute pet’s name, i like it.” sasha says, leg swinging off the side of where she sat.

“sasha and kitty for sk. i like it.” zenix adds, smile taunting as he looks at you.

your eyebrows pinch together, voice tight in irritation. “my name isn’t hard. i don’t need a nickname.”

gene’s eyebrow raises, challenging as he tilts his head.

“oh? sounds like the voice of someone who’s bold enough to let a picture of her fighting skills spread around.”

you scoff.

“listen. i hate to say it, kitty, but we have the upper hand here. we know it’s a bit devious, but we just want you to join us. you wouldn’t reject people wanting to be your friend, would you? especially ones that are also bad and break the rules.”

“i’m not going to—”

“no? well if that picture starts floating around who do you think will be your friend? us, or those goody two shoes friends you hang out with?”

“it’s none of their business what happened.” you snap, your brain scrambling for responses and too exhausted from the conversation to come up with any.

“then why don’t you say that to one of them?” gene hums in taunting amusement, head tilting as he looks at you through his lashes. “look behind you.”

your heart thuds and drops in your chest as you turn to see laurance, walking up to you in his soccer uniform, eyes narrowing at gene.

“is he bothering you?” he looks to you, brows furrowed.

your mouth drops open, trying to find something to say. his eyes seem to catch onto the draining of the blood from your face, his hand reaching out to grab your arm and pull you closer to his side.

“come on, you don’t need to be hanging out with—”

“no need to get so defensive, laurance. she wants to hang out with us.” gene cuts him off.

laurance freezes, eyes narrowing as he looks between you and the trio. “huh?”

gene stares at you, a toothy grin on his sharp features. 

“yeah,” you barely keep your voice steady as everyone focuses on you. “they’re not so bad once you get to know them.”

“…what?” laurance questions again, as if he thought he was hallucinating your words.

“yeah, she’s a real sweet girl. i really think i’m starting to see the error of my ways because of her.” gene takes a few steps closer. 

“really?” laurance asks, tone disbelieving.

“yeah! in fact she was just telling us to stop hanging back here and tagging up the place. i’ve never felt more moved.”

sasha and zenix nod along to his words, taking his lead as he looks to them. gene then waltzes right up to you, handing you a crumpled and folded slip of paper.

“here’s my number. text me later, i may need some help on my homework later. why don’t you go with laurance and we’ll catch you later.” he chuckles. “i can really picture our friendship blossoming.”

you give a half-hearted breath of a laugh in return, backing up with laurance. 

“okay, later.”

you feel sick. 

“are you okay?” laurance asks you once you’re out of earshot, leading you to the benches where the soccer team sits, the area pretty empty at the moment other than a few players practicing on the field.

“huh? oh yeah, i’m good.”

he stares at you, fingers tapping against the other. 

“…you sure? you know, those three are really good at acting and putting up a front. i really don’t think—”

“i know! trust me, it’s fine.”

his eyebrows furrow like he wants to say something but changes his mind, glancing back at the empty bleachers you were just behind. 

“you know eating outside during lunch is against the rules though, don’t you?”

you hold back a sigh. 

“…no, i didn’t know.”

laurance sighs looking at the apple still clutched in your hands. “…is that all you have for lunch?”

“oh, yeah. i forgot to… get some.”

he looks back up at you, before reaching into the soccer team’s snack box and handing you chips and a cheese stick.

“you don’t need to—”

“eat.” he raises a challenging eyebrow when you hesitate, lips curling up in appeasement when you start peeling open the cheese wrapper.

a call of your name falls from his lips, prompting you to look up into concerned eyes. 

“be careful.”

☆

as you change in the locker room out of your sweaty athletics uniform, your phone buzzes on the bench.

gene: meet me near the back of the school

you suppress a sigh, keeping your face neutral in front of your group of girl friends beside you.

you: ok

aphmau was able to catch you alone in the hallways at one point, round eyes wide with worry. apparently she had also been confronted by gene, but that guy from her werewolf class had supposedly interrupted their talk, cutting the confrontation short.

you weren’t as lucky, you groaned internally, as you swung open the back doors to the school, finding your way down the stairs and spotting gene by the fence line. he’s changed into casual clothes rather than his school uniform, you note, the dark and grungy clothes a polar difference from the neat school uniform he was forced to wear. 

“…what is it?”

“walk with me to my house.”

any anxiety you feel is overridden as you shoot a sharp glare up at him, nose wrinkling in disgust. “no. why would i do that? are you some kind of pervert?”

gene barks out a laugh, head throwing back as he holds up his arms defensively. “woah, put the claws away, kitty! it’s nothing like that. i won’t claim i’m a good guy, but i’m not a total piece of shit either. i need you to meet my mom.”

“…what.”

“i’ll explain on the walk there.” he nods at you to walk along with him, beginning to make his way down the street.

you hesitate, teeth gritting. before you realize it your feet have carried you after him, catching up to the long-legged boy.

“if you try anything i’ll beat the shit out of you. i don’t care if you’re bigger and taller, i’ll find a way.” you threaten, even if you weren’t confident in your own words. 

gene seems amused by your threat, something you’ve begun to notice as a trend. “unless you were forced to take taekwondo as a kid i’m afraid you have no chance. i can appreciate your attitude, though. having a backbone looks good on you.”

you release a quiet sigh, glancing over warily at his tall frame, noticing the bit of lean muscle that cling to him. despite being on the thinner side, you knew he was most definitely right.

“what is it you want me to do?”

he hums. “ah, right. so, my mom’s been on my ass lately about hanging out with sasha and zenix too much… saying they’re bad influences.”

he scoffs, hands tucked into the pockets of his black jacket.

“i just need you to pretend like you’re a new friend of mine, helping me out with school and otherwise being a good influence. should be easy enough for you, you don’t need to even act.”

you huff. “why choose me?”

“why not? besides you doing this for me… and the whole picture thing… you seem pretty cool. maybe i just want to be friends.”

you don’t say anything to that, instead sending him a wary glance as he barks out an amused laugh in return.

on the way the two of you make it to a gas station, where gene turns to walk towards its doors rather than continue down the sidewalk, much to your chagrin.

when your footsteps stop from behind him he turns, looking back at you with a sigh.

“listen, i don’t live in a shady part of town necessarily, but at least come inside with me.” he says, his usual teasing cadence gone as he waves you to him. 

though he wasn’t implying anything you feel a shiver run up your spine, fingers drifting to zianna’s locket as your eyes drift around at the cars passing by. you spot one, all black, parked near the side of the building.

black rims, black paint, blacked out lights, blacked out windows.

no, it’s nothing.

plenty of people have all black cars.

but…

quickly, you shuffle after gene, listening to the doorbell chime as you rush into the door after him.

he gives you a questioning look. the one time he wasn’t really trying to tease or scare you and you looked the most scared. he doesn’t question it though, instead telling you to look around while he buys what he needs.

you sigh, walking down the store aisles, eyes drifting to the different candies. turning to go to the next aisle you nearly bump into a taller man. he looked average. tanned skin and brown hair… but when you look into his eyes…

there’s a certain emptiness to the shade of brown you look into. something cruel and unforgiving—something you didn’t even see in gene’s. despite their warm color, they lacked any sense of care. it sends a cold chill starting from your cheeks and down your back, like someone had dumped ice water over your head.

“excuse me.” you mutter, shuffling past him and quickly putting yourself right next to where gene stood.

he glances at you from the corner of his eye, turning to see the man in the aisle. it’s a few seconds where he doesn’t say anything, face cold and unexpressive as he stares down the man until he leaves the store empty-handed.

the cashier, a rather unimpressed looking woman in her mid twenties glances over to you, raising a thinly plucked eyebrow.

“this your new girlfriend or something?” she glances down at your uniform, lip curling as she stares judgmentally back at gene. “...she looks a little young.”

“what? no, don’t be ridiculous,” gene scoffs. “just my little brothers friend. she’s coming home to study with him, so i’m walking her.”

the cashier deadpans at him. “yeah, okay. if you’re buying these for that lil’ girl i can’t sell em to you.”

“does it look like i’m buying these for her?” he gestures to you with one of his hands, giving an exasperated look to the cashier. “i mean she looks like she makes all a’s and never gets in trouble. c’mon.”

your eyebrows furrow. sell what to him?

the cashier looks you up and down for a moment before sighing, reaching down to the cabinets below her and pulling out a red cigarette case. your eyes widen and you look to gene, who only scoldingly stares you down from the corner of his eye.

“don’t say a thing and act natural.” is what you read from the dark blue irises challenging you to say something before he slides the money over the counter.

the cashier checks him out, narrowing her hooded green eyes at you once more with a concerned glint to them before humming. “you’re good to go. see you later.”

“thanks, donna.” gene casually replies, shoving the cigs in his pocket and ushering you out of the store.

you two walk in silence for a moment, making it a ways down the street before he reaches into the back of his jean pockets, pulling out one of the cigarettes and an old lighter. he lights one, huffing out the smoke and glancing down at you. 

“want one?”

you shake your head. he shrugs, stepping around you to walk on your other side when he sees you blink rapidly from the smoke blowing in your eyes.

“more for me.” he smirks, taking another deep inhale and looking away, slowly letting out his next breath.

“…how did you even buy those?” you ask, frowning as he flicks ash onto the concrete. 

he reaches into his pocket, pulling out his wallet and sliding out not his normal id, but instead another version that was flipped horizontally, the “under 21” warning nowhere to be seen.

“fake id.” he shrugs. “been using it since last year.”

it’s about ten more minutes before the roll of nicotine meets the end of its life. gene stops, crouching down for a second to snuff it out, before carelessly flicking it out onto the street.

“littering?” you narrow your eyes.

“what? it’ll decompose.”

“no, it won’t. not for a long time.”

“whatever.”

“littering is really lame.”

gene scoffs, rolling his eyes. “c’mon, kitty. loosen up. the world will keep spinning to see another day.”

you huff, running back to scoop up the discarded cigarette, still warm from both its flame and staying snugly between gene’s fingers. he stops to look at you, eyebrows raised and pinched, the corner of his mouth turned down in confused amusement. you walk back to him, flipping up the top of the box that still hung out of his jeans and shoving the cigarette down into the empty spot.

he raises a brow before his head tilts back in silent laughter, eyes closed.

“okay, fine, miss goody two shoes.” he laughs, before turning onto the pathway up to a dull blue house. “remember, just act like you’re a new friend of mine helping me out with my grades.”

he pulls out a key chain, unlocking the door and waving you inside. “hey mom, i have someone i want you to meet.”

the inside of the house… is not the environment that you’d expect for a guy like gene to live in. it was perfectly clean, the furniture neat and the fresh scent of lemons and lavender clinging to the air.

an older woman with a taller stature than you and lighter gray-blue hair appears from the hallway, face stern as she looks at her son.

“a new friend? if they’re anything like—” she stops her train of thought when her eyes land on you, face changing to a friendlier expression. “oh, hello sweetie. you’re… gene’s friend?”

gene huffs. “don’t sound too surprised.”

you control your breathing, already feeling guilty pulling in your chest as you prepare yourself to lie to this woman. you raise your hand to shake hers with a small smile, nodding along.

“yes ma’am. it’s nice to meet you.”

“it’s nice to meet you too! i’m maria.” her face is brightened as she grabs onto your hand, shaking it back. “oh, gene, honey. i’m surprised such a proper-looking and lovely girl wants to talk to you! she’s adorable.”

“what?” he sighs, looking much less intimidating than usual as he watches his tongue in front of his mother. “…anyways, mom, she’s been helping me with school. she makes amazing grades and never gets in trouble… right…?”

you nod.

“wow, i can’t believe you made friends outside of that little club of yours—”

“—it’s a gang—”

“—i’m so proud. do you need a ride home, sweetie? gene and i were just going to leave for dance lessons.”

“oh, that’s okay. i can walk.”

maria shakes her head. “oh, but a girl like you shouldn’t walk alone on the streets, especially with the traffic right now. we’re not necessarily in a dangerous part of town, but still.”

you freeze, before nodding. “if you don’t mind, that would be nice.”

“of course not! gene lets go.” she nods, pulling her keys out of the purse on her shoulder and walking out the front door.

you two stand there for a moment before you turn to gene with a raised eyebrow, a smirk fighting to break out on your face.

“…dance lessons?”

his nose crinkles before he bends his torso, the scent of cigarettes still fresh on his breath as he slits his eyes at you.

“don’t you dare utter a word of that to anyone, or everyone in the school will know about that picture.” he whispers, before straightening himself and pacing forward towards the door. “c’mon, sweetie, time to go home.”

©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own.

[nadvs]

we need a second part of imperfect strangers where he actually comes and visits her for the weekends🤭 (random but i can so see them at chipotle being all cutesy)

aw tysm 💘 wrote a blurb and rly leaned into the goofy fluff but it’s NEEDED with zach imo!!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

continuation of this fic

Zach acts like a four-hour drive to your college is nothing.

You know he’s tired every time he pulls up in front of your dorm. You can see it in the bags under his eyes and the yawns he tries to hide from you.

But matter how many times you tell him he doesn’t have to come visit you every weekend, he won’t hear it. He’s determined to show you how badly he wants to see you, refusing to take the risk of hurting you again.

When you mention to Zach that you’re craving Chipotle the night before his visit, he finds the closest one to your campus while still on the phone with you.

The second you get into his car the next day, he kisses you before you can even get a chance to put on your seatbelt.

“Missed you, too,” you laugh when he pulls back.

After he buys lunch, you sit in a booth by a window in the restaurant, feet bumping beneath the table. He always wants to find a way to touch you, no matter how minor.

“This is a masterpiece,” he says, holding out his bowl, ridiculously competitive as usual. “I don’t know what that is.”

You gasp as he points at your meal.

“What makes yours so perfect?” you ask. He loves how you always play along with him, that you’re as much of a goofball as he is.

“Look,” Zach says, his delivery deadpan but his motive silly like usual, “I got the protein - the steak, of course…”

“Of course,” you echo amusedly.

“And brown rice, great for lowering cholesterol,” he says.

“You take one nutrition course and suddenly you’re a genius,” you sigh, recalling how he told you about one of his elective classes on the phone a few nights ago.

“Babe, I’m being serious here,” Zach says, the smile curling on his lips telling you he’s not being serious at all.

“Continue.” You take a bite of your lunch.

“Corn, a vegetable,” he says, raising his eyebrows, “salsa, extra cheese-”

“I think you’re cheesy enough,” you interrupt, putting a palm up. Zach laughs and nudges your knee with his.

“You love it,” he says. You smile, confirming it.

“Is this who you are now that you’re a local celebrity?” you tease. “All ego?”

A few days ago, a photo of him playing soccer in a home game was posted on his college’s Instagram account, celebrating the team’s most recent win.

As you expected, the top comment was by a girl who wrote what’s his @ i’m asking for a friend (i’m the friend).

“Afraid so,” he responds.

“I noticed you changed your profile picture on Instagram,” you say. It used to be his athletic headshot, but now his profile boasts an image of the two of you smiling outside of a café.

“Yeah,” he says plainly.

“Why?”

“What do you mean? Am I not cute in it?” he jokes.

“Zach,” you laugh. “Was it because girls were messaging you?”

His cheeks flush pink. He pulls out his phone and sets it in front of you.

“Yeah. I changed it so they know I have a girlfriend,” he says, gaze fluttering away. You know him so well. “And I didn’t message any of them back. You can check.”

“You’re so sweet,” you giggle. “I trust you, but I kind of want to look just out of curiosity to see what they’re saying.”

Sure enough, he has a few messages from pretty girls sitting in his inbox, some simple hi’s, others much more flirty.

“Can’t blame them,” you reply, sliding his phone back to his side of the table. “You’re hot.”

“Are you only in this for my looks?”

“I thought you knew that,” you say. “This is awkward now.”

Zach grins, bumping your knee again before sliding out of his side of the booth and settling beside you. You can smell his cologne, clean and gentle.

“Yeah, we’re the kind of couple that sits on the same side of the table, so what?” he mumbles, planting a kiss on your temple. You smirk, kneeling against his shoulder before sitting straight again.

“I’m sorry if that made you jealous, babe,” Zach says after a beat. At times, it’s hard to believe how sensitive he is. “I can ask them to take the photo down.”

“Oh,” you say with a laugh. He has a bit of a jealous streak stemming from insecurities, but you never felt it yourself, knowing how loyal he is. “I have a cute boyfriend. I can accept that it comes with a little competition sometimes.”

“There’s no competition,” he says resolutely, blue eyes hard on you. You squeeze his bicep and smile at him and he dips to kiss your fingers, right above the promise ring he gave you.

“You know that goes both ways, right?” you tell him softly. “You’ve ruined all other men for me, MacLaren.”

Your words send butterflies swirling in his stomach.

“Good thing we’ll be together forever then,” Zach says, a glint in his eyes.

“Good thing,” you agree.

(continuation blurb)

[rewritingcanon]

Do you have any thoughts on scorbus kids king (beyond Albus insisting that they’re all named after stars and constellations and the likes) because in the same way that they’d get married at like 18-19 a la ‘traditional’ wizards i think they’d be the couple to turn up to christmas one year with a baby without telling anyone (nobody knows how they got the baby and theyre not saying shit) and boom. The first wotter-malfoy grandchild

oooooh! hmm! i actually go back and forth on scorbus children a lot. like i dont have set ocs or anything for them. i can see them with or without kids. i can see them with many or just one. i can see them as boy dads and girl dads. i can see them as all adopted or as donor-conceived. likeeeee i can see everything tbh. but i can tell you what i’m usually set towards:

i reckon one of their babies (i’m thinking the second one if they ever get so far) is sooooo weasley-coded. they don’t act like scorpius or albus but as their fucking grandma ginny. like they may not have the token red hair at all but they certainly act like one. and they’re a stereotypical gryffindor. (first gryffindor malfoy perchance)

i’m also thinking they need to have a diva daughter. like a mini narcissa/lucius just minus the moral abhorrence (they may or may not have a consumerism problem though)

one of the babies has to have the blond malfoy hair. preferably the eldest. idc if that makes me a stickler for tradition.

also i think they would pull the “my grandad is harry potter” “did you know i’m the chosen one’s grandkid?” “oh yeah just going to my pop’s place tonight… did i mention he’s harry potter?” ALL THE TIME 💀 like they would nottttt understand albus’ angst about it (at first) because they won’t experience the same type of pressure as being harry potter’s child.

i think it would be sooo funny if they had kids who are really popular in school and are super charming and good-looking and athletic and just very cool and easily liked. and meanwhile they’re dads are the biggest fucking socially inept losers.

if i was nice i’d give scorpius a bookworm kid. but i don’t think that would happen 😭 he’s fr cursed to be the only nerd there.

now here are some parent!scorbus hcs:

the whole misunderstanding angst between them is scorpius wants to rant to his child about the ottoman empire’s invention of major medical instruments and the child just wants to go play footy with da boys 💔

you best believe albus suffers the potter curse of just never understanding his child 😭 he would totally argue with them all the time. not to the point where they run away though.

i think albus would feel the desire to be a father more than scorpius would initially, but albus would be the strict parent. probably because he did shit like running away and deleting his family from the timeline so he doesn’t want that to happen again yk. how can you blame him

scorpius is the dad that spoils his kids rotten. like he’s NEVER mad. he’s always telling them how proud he is of them and how lovely and cool they are and he’s just constantly inflating their heads to the sizes of large balloons. he’s the dad they go to when they want to ask for something because he’ll normally give it to them. he’d rather they be brats then be unconfident and hate themselves.

also scorpius would get crazy separation anxiety. like it doesnt matter if his kid is 25 that’s his baby and they need to be in arms reach at all times

albus can be the type to freak out at his kids ngl 😭 tbf i dont think he’d do it without reason but he will definitely make them cryyyy and run to their rooms. yk when one of ur parents yells at you when ur a kid and u cry angry tears and can’t verbalise your feelings because you’re tiny and dont know the right words yet. and then you look to your other parent for help and they’re just standing at the side like “🧍‍♂️” yeah the one just standing there is scorpius 💀 no way he’s risking getting clocked too.

scorpius might not voice it in the moment but he’s very good at damage control and managing his family who probably runs quite high on emotions. also he’ll sneak his kids sweets to cheer them up even if they deserved to get yelled at lol

albus is the dad that cleans and washes and styles his daughters’ hair 😭 and he will do it aggressively too like he ties the cleanest but tightest braids and plaits and ponytails you best believe. also he doesn’t play around when his kids come home from primary school with a head lice notification slip. best believe he’s going to scrape through everything.

the kids definitely think scorbus are way too lovey-dovey with each other. cringiest parents ever.

albus is definitely the “how dare you talk to your father like that” kind of guy about scorpius.

albus would pack the most delectable lunch boxes ever and scorpius would write the sweetest daily notes for their kids and put them in the lunchboxes to cheer them

they do not play about bullying whatsoever. someone is getting right hooked if anyone dares with their kid. not hexed, right hooked

albus sobbed when he had to say goodbye to his first child for hogwarts. like he ugly cried right in the middle of the platform. almost collapsed.

scorpius is bombarding their kid with letters. like he’s writing them four times a day to ask how things are and how theyre finding classes and if their classmates are good to them?? and has to be asked to stop 😭

yk how harry was gassing tf out of hogwarts to albus only for it to be shit? just know albus is telling the biggest horror stories about the school to their kid only for them to go there and for it to be fine. this is the visual vibe btw:

albus’ favourite kid is definitely the one who is most like scorpius in some way. but he will deny it

scorpius still tucks them in every night no matter if they’re adults

albus is the type to bitch out alllll of his kids’ friends. “i don’t like [insert friend]” “why” “they seem very…. fake.” “dad you literally have zero friends besides papa why are you speaking rn”

scorpius loves hosting his kids’ birthday parties (bonus if he can make it extravagant) and albus hates it (he dislikes every other child except his own)

albus the type of dad to get the malfoy white streak and a beer belly and blame it on the stress of being a father (he loves his kid(s) heaps, just to be clear).

scorpius would tell his kids when they fell down and scraped themselves that his kiss could make it better. and when he kissed their bruise or cut he’d do a tiny healing spell and fix it so for yearssss these scorbus kids thought their dad was had super magical kisses (yk damn well albus took advantage of that excuse 😭)

if they adopted a kid of another race to them, scorpius is going leaps and bounds to understand his baby’s culture and raise him accordingly so they don’t feel too disconnected (albus will do so too but scorpius would be such an expert at it because he’s a research freak).

i think scorbus would generally follow traditional wizard norms but their kids wouldn’t. the kids are living in the house until they are 35 or something. reason is because their standard of living at home is amazing. albus cooks the best food. they get spoilt rotten by scorpius. they have the combined fortune of two of the richest wizard families… yeah life is good

i shall stop it there but lmk if you want me to yap more because i havent even started on aunt lily and uncle james or their crazy grandparents 😭

[cxhleel108]

LITG S8 Thots for this week: Here we go again…

(Sorry friends a bitch was getting crunk the last two days so I did not have time to do this until today❤️)

• Ok before we even start why is he sitting like thiskdmsmsnsnd someone help me.

• So the customization…I told y’all I wasn’t trying to gag too hard when they first revealed MC and this is exactly why cuz once again why we only get braids for textured hair??? They’re not even free like y’all already pissing me off.

• So clearly this season is about zodiac because why else would we only be getting star sign tattoos?

• Meet Jaylin y’all😝😝😝 You’ll be getting all her info soon.

• Everyone hating this swim suit but it actually being my favorite. The others were just ok to me Idk sue me.

• Mind you it’s only been like 2 minutes and we already causing issues.

• I think we’re already getting married tomorrow guys Idk.

• And he has a lion tattoo so that means he’s most likely a Leo and my girl is a Gemini oh look how I ate this pairing up!

• Oh Theo stans I’m so sorry…

• I’m so glad I’ve never ended up getting the guy stuck in the “Day One” couple like I really would just end it all.

• The job options being the exact same…ok! I wanted her to be an athlete anyway😁

• Him assuming that he had a high chance of being picked when Oakley and Jin are present…I just busted out laughing.

• Yeah all this talk about compatibility and these dudes talking about being “magnetized” and “drawn” to us is def giving let’s compare our charts to see if we should fuck each other or not.

• Such a real bitch oh Claudia I love you already💯💯💯

• Sophie telling me to cool it around Jack like I want him…I just busted out laughing again.

• Our date with Theo just feeling like two people building a friendship and not a relationship was nice I would love for it to stay that way tbh (Him like 5 minutes later saying he was trying not to flirt with us can they not do this again like please).

• Jack’s date was a snooze fest who’s shocked? Also him having two moms just makes sense Idk why.

• I am gonna have so much fun replaying this season to do Jin’s route omg this man is too good.

• Yeah I already don’t like Emel. Girl who is bringing yo ass a bouquet at 8 in the morning??? Don’t piss me off.

• Uhhh cuz I’m badder than you, duh!

• Outfit time🥳🥳🥳

• These are cute!

• This is not!

• Right…anyways so!

• Yikes!

• Hehehehe no y’all don’t understand like she is already my bestie fr. Love when one of the girls is here for the fuckshit.

• The drama that be happening sometimes be so stupid like girl. Claudia sitting here telling me everyone was mad at each other on DAY FUCKING ONE because nobody wanted to be with who they were with…do y’all just come on here and then forget how the show works.

• Oh girl just stop like fuuuuck😭😭😭

• Outfit time again✨

• The panties did not need the sheer added.

• This literally being a swimsuit.

• Claudia’s outfit is so cute ugh werk!

• WHY IS THIS MAN BOOTY SO DAMN FAT LIKE OMGGGG😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

• He wanna compete with me so bad!

• I’m cryinggggg why we really living the storybook romance that Emel keep begging for.

• Me & Oakley: “Cheats are the lowest of the low”

• Also Me & Oakley: *Eating each other’s faces off outside*

• Yes please get Emel out of here before she takes Willow’s place and actually starts annoying the fuck outta me.

[callmewrinkles3]

Deuxmoi Submissions, 2023

January

Spotted: Daniel Riccardo and his long-time girlfriend Emma on a romantic date at a restaurant in Perth. Weird thing was this time his manager was also there side by side in company of a blonde girl.

-

February

Subject: Twins

Email: whatever@gmail.com

Message: saw Daniel Ricciardo and his manager on a double date. One of the women was definitely Ricciardo’s girlfriend (and I think I saw a ring????) the other looked like her sister?

-

March

Spotted: Daniel Ricciardo’s fiancée flower shopping with a group of women. Is the wedding happening?

-

April

Spotted: saw like four F1 drivers (Charles LeClerc, Max Verstappen, Lance Stroll, and Esteban Ocon) getting off planes at Perth airport. I work the private terminal and there was a load of extra jets in. Is the F1 Royal Wedding happening?

-

May

Message: what Met gala attendee had a meltdown because her dress didn’t fit her chest an hour before her red carpet time? She didn’t get a lot of attention but she’s got a couple of high profile places to be this month with her husband, let’s see if it’s just her chest expanding.

-

June

Subject: wait WHAT

Email: reservebells@gmail.com

Message: ok I could be wrong but I think I saw everyone’s favourite Australian who isn’t doing his usual job leaving a maternity hospital in [removed for their privacy] with his wife. Both looked delighted, he was the happiest he’s been in years

-

July

Spotted: I work at a high end baby furniture shop and a high profile athlete and his wife came in. No clue how nobody knows she’s pregnant, it’s pretty obvious. Happy for them, they’re very in love and he couldn’t keep his hands off the bump

Update: yeah it was Daniel Ricciardo and his wife, also the tip they gave the furniture delivery bought us all takeout.

-

August

Saw Daniel Ricciardo and his wife in the same restaurant as me in Faenza. They’re too cute and he wasn’t drinking wine because she can’t thanks to her pregnancy.

*

Spotted: Em Ricciardo is a sweetheart! I was lost in Milan trying to find the train station with no phone signal, she speaks what sounded like fluent Italian and got the directions for me!

September

Subject: bundle of joy

Email: forthebees@gmail.com

Message: Got to see the former Red Bull teammates at Formula Nurnburgring, but the highlight for me was watching Sebastian Vettel giving Emma Ricciardo a giant hug and a gift bag. It’s really obvious that they get along well, she was there cheering him in his car. His wife was there too, saw her and Emma chatting.

—

October

Spotted: Daniel Ricciardo out for dinner with his wife, his manager, and what looked like his wife’s friend? It was his manager’s birthday and they sang happy birthday, but they did a toast later.

Spotted: Em Ricciardo looking so proud at her husband’s contract announcement. Red Bull got Dan a onesie for the new baby, it was adorable.

—

November

Spotted: Daniel Ricciardo running through LAX to catch a Qantas flight to Sydney. Someone mentioned his wife is due soon, is the baby coming?

Spotted: Em Ricciardo in Perth airport, looked like she was collecting Dan from Vegas. She’s still pregnant! #F1BabyWatch

—

December

Subject: flowers

Email: fakeyfake@fake.com

Message: I work in a florist and we had 22 bouquets sent to one room in [redacted] hospital in Perth. Most of the calls came from UK and European numbers. Looks like F1’s latest baby has arrived!

[capquinn]

now i’m thinking about how a night out with bf!quinn would be a journey

he’s not really a club guy — too many people, too loud, but he’s there because you’re there, and that’s all he really cares about. you’re in your element, swaying your hips to the music, your eyes catching his from across the room. he’s standing by the table with a beer in hand, looking all cool and calm, but the second you start motioning for him to come over, his calm cracks.

“c’mon,” you mouth, smiling at him, and he’s already shaking his head with a little laugh because dancing? really? but then you give him the eyes — that playful, don’t make me beg look — and he groans dramatically before setting down his drink and making his way to you.

“you’re gonna regret this,” he mutters, letting you take his hands and pull him closer, and yeah, he’s right. he’s terrible. he’s trying so hard to find his rhythm, watching your feet like they’re going to tell him the secret, but he’s an athlete, not a dancer, and it shows. you’re laughing so hard you can barely keep moving, but he doesn’t care because you’re happy, and that’s all that matters.

eventually, he gives up, shaking his head with an amused grin. “you’re on your own, babe,” he says, kissing your cheek before retreating back to the booth with your friends. but even then, his eyes don’t leave you. he’s leaning back, beer in hand, watching you with that lazy, half-lidded smile that says, god, i’m so in love with her.

and then, after a couple more drinks, he loosens up. he’s tugging you back to the booth, pulling you onto his lap like you belong there. he’s so clingy now, kissing your bare shoulder, his hand resting high on your thigh, like he physically can’t cope with you being out of reach. when you go to grab another drink, he’s following you, fingers brushing against your lower back like he just needs to be close.

“having fun?” he’ll murmur into your ear, his voice low and warm, and when you nod, and ask if he’s having fun, his lips curve into that soft, lopsided grin. he doesn’t even need to say it, but you know he’s thinking it: as long as you’re happy, i’m good.

[blusical]

Problematic Players and You

(PT: Problematic Players and You)

Trigger Warning: This post discusses several triggering or otherwise sensitive topics, including, but not limited to, abuse sexual assault, bigotry, and violence. Reader discretion is advised. Additional Disclaimer: This is not a post defending the actions of athletes mentioned *nor* is it an attack on said athletes (or their fans!). This is about dealing with serious events involving players as a whole.

Have you ever woke up one day and found out that your favorite race car driver said some not-so savory things? Have you ever checked the news one day and found out a hockey player you love was accused of rape? Are you a new sports fan who did research on an athlete you like only to find out they're a straight up creep? And have you ever asked yourself: “Where the hell do I go from here?” when it comes to merch you’ve already bought or the amount of gifsets you’ve made for them? Well, you’ve come to the right post! Because let’s face it, we’ve (probably) all been there, done that and got the t-shirt (Err, jersey). 

First off, what defines a problematic player?

Well... there's not really a set definition. Everyone has a different idea of what's 'problematic' and what isn't. However, there are some deeds that athletes do that are... kind of ick, so any of the following could make them be considered very problematic:

-Bigotry (ex. Racism, homophobia). -Cheating (as in cheating on your spouses. Not cheating as in using PEDs even though that too is also kinda trashy). -Abuse, sexual assault, etc. -Questionable/not so great political opinions.

And then there’s athletes who’ve been involved in so many off-ice controversies and allegations that it’s reached a point where regardless of how many are true or not, and no matter how much new information is revealed, they won’t be well liked by fans (Patrick Kane, anyone?). Okay, but why do athletes do this crap in the first place?

Well... there's a couple theories on why some do these things.

Sometimes mental and environmental factors can influence an athlete’s decision making. Say, if an athlete was abused by a coach when they were young, that might factor into any actions, good or bad, a player makes in the future. In cases of bigoted opinions, athletes are raised to have such opinions.

Age can also play a factor into a player’s actions. The younger they are, the more likely they’re going to do stupid shit (Or so I've noticed, please correct me if I'm wrong lmfao). Again. The theories are limitless. However most of the time athletes do these things because... they chose to do that. And a part of that is being because sports culture. Yeah. Sports culture sucks. Who would've known?

So do problematic athletes... stay problematic forever?

Well, yes and no.

As much as our first instinct is to “cancel” said athletes and pressure them to take accountability, we should also give them a chance to grow when they do take accountability instead of pushing the issue further.

However, that also depends on if they chose to grow. Hell, it depends if they even admit to making a mistake or admitting to guilt at all (which is, unfortunately, very impressive in a society like this). If they don’t.. Well, that’s their choice. Best we can do as fans beyond that point is just spread awareness. Remember: 99% of the time celebs won't listen to their fans. Some will. But do not expect your favorite to do the right thing. You will be disappointed. Another thing to keep in mind is that even if changes to character are made, people (us included) will still probably continue to view them differently for a while. As much as we’d like to put the past behind us, that just isn’t easy. (And besides, in the long term this is probably a good thing, since as fans it’s not our place to forgive; that’s up to the people affected). Actually while we’re at it..

Help! What should I do when an athlete (including my favorite) gets into controversy?

It’s always stressful (and sad) when an athlete you’ve admired and looked up to is eventually outed as a terrible person. It’s even more stressful when you’re a newer fan to sports and you just find out about said problematic deeds.

Well, first thing's first: process your emotions, and feelings. And once you're done crying, screaming, whatever action you're doing to process your feelings, spread awareness if you feel comfortable enough doing so. When spreading awareness though: DO RESEARCH AND ONLY SHARE RELIABLE SOURCES. Unfortunately serious allegations almost always have misinformation popping out. Hell, sometimes "allegations" may just be someone causing trouble on the internet (Corey Perry situation, anyone?). If the source is from a random Twitter user (that doesn't work in journalism), or the source is from a site like Deadspin and/or TMZ or any other site that has a history of clickbait, odds are, it's best to take it with a grain of salt. Team fansites (like RMNB, a Caps site) are also not always reliable, so take caution when reading through them as well.

It's better to stick with actually known sources like ESPN, Bleacher Report or a journalist like Elliotte Friedman. Rick Westhead and Katie Strang are really good journalists when it comes to issues relating to hockey. Additionally, do not expect to know *all* the information. Do not demand all information to come out. Sometimes not everything can be shared for legal reasons. Be patient and wait for everything to come out. And even then, don't expect it to be everything that happened (because again, legal reasons). Also, don't expect other people to talk about the incident in question! Do not guilt others into discussing it, do not force others to post about it. Focus on what you can do before focusing on what others can do! After most information (if not all of it), it's up to you to come to your own conclusions. Lastly, regardless of what your decision is, whether you decide to stop supporting them or you choose to believe they did nothing wrong (for any reason), but you're stuck on what to do anyway... Well... and this is probably anticlimactic I know, what to do is... up to you!

Internet wise, your internet space is your space! Your Tumblr blog is your blog! If you wanna stop posting about that player and also delete every single mention of said player outside of spreading awareness? Great! That’s your choice! Wanna keep said posts up but tag them and/or add a disclaimer! Also great! Wanna keep posting them or writing fics about them? Completely fine! Just tag it accordingly and keep in mind why these folks may not like said players. And *please* continue to be critical of said players when they do something wrong. Your favorite is not immune to criticism.

(In other words, yes Hawks fans, you’re allowed to post your Kane gifs and 1988 fics. Just tag it accordingly. And just know that people *will* probably judge you for it).

One thing you should not do however: DO NOT CENSOR NAMES. This fucks with filters and screenreaders (More in-depth post on this here!).

And because apparently this still needs to be said, don’t wish injury or death on the players and for the love of Wayne Gretzky don’t fucking send harassment to their families (seriously why do people do this fucking garbage holy fuck).

Secondly, don’t buy their jerseys or other merchandise from official sites! They will profit off that. If you've already brought it, don't just throw it out. Instead, leave it in storage, sell it or, if you're good at tailoring, try making something new out of it! Additionally (especially in cases of rape, violence, etc), SUPPORT THE VICTIMS INVOLVED. They need it the most.

What about the folks that continue to support said athletes?

If someone continues to post an athlete that’s done not great things, it’s tempting to educate them and tell them (which, if you’re going to do so, please tell them gently and not yell at them, especially if they’re a newer or younger fan who has zero clue what’s going on) But if they already know (which odds are they probably do unless they’re a newer fan), and/or they refuse to stop posting about them after being told, the best plan of action is to just… leave them alone. Just leave them be. Do not bother them further. Do not harass them. Do not send them threats. And for goodness gracious don’t make a callout post or blocklist of every single supporter of said athlete.

(Seriously attempting to make a long blocklist never ends well, especially since half the time the users on said blocklist turn out to be literal children).

That said though, if your friends/mutuals are actively defending bigoted comments and/or making statements that borderline towards abuse apologism, it’s not a bad idea to hold them accountable in a private setting. Yes I said private setting because most drama can be avoided with a private DM. But other than that... someone still writes 1988 fic? Leave them be! Someone still makes gifsets of Alex Ovechkin? Leave them be! Hell, someone still talks about the Staals? Just leave them be! The best course of action is to… just use the block button and/or filter posts accordingly. That’s literally it lmfao.

But why do people continue to support these athletes anyway?

Well it all comes down to the following: A. They have trouble grappling with the fact that they are, in fact, problematic. B. They’re Neurodivergent (especially autistic or individuals with ADHD), or struggling IRL, and kinda rely on those people to function or get through the day. 

C. Detaching yourself from a problematic figure is… really easier said than done. It is not easy at all lmfao. D. They're refuse to listen to info. E. They genuinely have no clue what's going on. Either way. Don't judge too harshly. Not everyone can just stop supporting a person/media and guess what? It's not as easy as 99% of Tumblr dot com thinks. Not everyone can just stop enjoying/liking something. And guess what? That's actually O-KAY. Last thing to know.

Lastly, you, yourself, *could* probably be supporting a problematic player right now! And you would never know until much later! At the end of the day, 99% of athletes have done problematic things one way or another. And honestly, if we tried to get rid of every problematic person... there probably wouldn't be any people left on Earth at all. Yeah, some actions are more shittier than ever, but trying to make everything "unproblematic"... is never going to work no matter how you look at it, and that is OKAY.

Remember the most important rule (stolen from someone on discord with the second edited by me!):

Now get out there and cheer for whatever player you'd like.

(Special thanks to @hard4softthings @saucerfulofsins @tapejob @youneedtolookatthis @restingbuchface @bedardconnor and a bunch of other folks for providing most of the advice/info/tips for this post!)

[chirpingfromthebox]

My favorite bits from Minnesota's post-game press interviews after PWHL Finals Game 3

You can find the entire interview here! Be sure to give them some views/likes/nice comments/etc., because her channel is great and the support it gets means the more people who will find it.

At the table were Michela Cava, Taylor Heise, and coach Ken Klee.

Transcriptions and some of my thoughts under the break.

[p.s. did you know that on computer, if you press "J", then Tumblr will automatically skip you to the next post? Something to consider if you get bored of my ramblings after expanding.]

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

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

[The gang all come up to the table while having an odd conversation.]

KEN KLEE: Sorry, we were just having a little side bar there.

REPORTER: Can you elaborate on the sidebar?

KK: Apparently we had a ponytail holder break. And then they said, “Coach, she can’t go, ‘cause she broke her ponytail.” And I said, “I played with Chris Simon. His hair was flying everywhere. She’ll be fine. She can get through a couple shifts.”

TAYLOR HEISE: So our athletic trainer gave her hers. So, she’s a team player.

KK: Our trainer came to save the day. Which was huge. She didn’t have to miss a shift.

[I will include a picture I found of Chris Simon here for those of you who are like me and don't know what he looks like and want some context to Klee's reference:

In other news, I don't think I've ever heard anyone say the words "pony-tail holder" before? I buzz my head 'cause I'm lazy like that. People with hair, is that a common term? Growing up I've only ever heard people say "hair ties" for the general term.]

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

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

REPORTER: For Michela and Taylor, you’ve obviously scored and assisted for each other, is that something you’re working on, obviously, in practice? It’s quite the series.

TAYLOR HEISE: I just think we both think pretty similarly. I don’t think we’re always in the same place, but we’re always looking for one another. You know, Kendall [Coyne Schofield] makes it easy too. All three of us roll off what we’re doing. And we do talk things out a lot. I’m someone that likes to talk a lot and Cava does too and I think it’s fun for us to roll through things. You’re not always gonna have time to practice in actual practice when you’re playing this many games. So I just think we have trust in each other and know where we’re gonna be at.

MICHELA CAVA: Yeah. I’d say the same thing as her. We kinda feed off each other. And we give each other positive energy on the bench and stuff. And always talk out plays. And every time we come off we always have something for each other to be better. I think that’s the most important thing with our line. Everybody goes and everyone’s supporting each other. It’s been a lot of fun so far.

KEN KLEE: I would say, high hockey IQ. That’s why they’re good.

[I have no evidence for this, but I have a suspicion that the reason I tend to see Heise at these press sessions more than Captain Coyne Schofield is because KCS is incredibly direct in her interviews. Delightfully succinct. Which I would love from a Captain, but would probably hate as a journalist. For an example of this check out this brilliant moment from the post-game session after Finals game 1.]

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REPORTER: For Cava and Heise, can you speak to the emotions of getting to play in front of an electric crowd like that?

MICHELA CAVA: Yeah, I think, obviously, it’s great. It’s a change for a lot of us to have so many people supporting our games. And the fans definitely elevate your energy levels when you’re feeling a little down after a shift. The crowd has just been phenomenal here all season for us. And I would say a big way to help us get these wins when you’re feeling tired. And it’s been a long playoffs so far. So yeah, they’re amazing and we love them.

TAYLOR HEISE: I think it comes full circle for me. Like, going to Wild games as a kid and kind of wanting that? And knowing that wasn’t a possibility at the time. But knowing that such an electric atmosphere of playoff hockey is something that’s special. It holds a special place in my heart, and I know in our entire team’s. Even after they scored with that 1 second left. You wouldn’t have been able to tell that. Like, in the 2nd period, we came off the ice and the fans were electric. And to have them on our side is definitely a one-up that any other team that comes into this building can’t find and can’t have.

R: And just to follow-up, Michela, what happens to your game in the playoffs? And Taylor can you speak to that as well? Of how well Michela’s been playing.

TH: I’ll start. I’ll take that one.

She has a lot of confidence in her play and what she does. And not to say that the beginning of the year that wasn’t a thing, because we both have gone through ups and downs this entire year. We’ve had some injuries, we’ve been through the losing streak, we’ve been in the gutter, we’ve been feeling bad. But I think, at the end of the day great players step up in great moments. And this is definitely one of those. She sees the ice really well. Clearly she put two defenders in a blender in her move. Just getting her the puck and knowing that she has that confidence. And sometimes it just takes getting that puck in one time for you to change your game. And I know that’s happened to me, but you know, she’s a great hockey player. She’s got all that, like coach said, all the IQ in the world to make it happen.

MC: Yeah, [points to Heise] that was really nice.

[Everyone laughs]

KEN KLEE: What she said.

MC: I don’t really know how to add to that.

TH: Retweet!

MC: Playoffs is do or die. Obviously it’s a super fun experience to win a championship and obviously this is gonna be the first one. Basically just do everything you can, use all the skill you have, use all the energy you have, and leave it all out there. Kinda what I try to do every single game.

TH: And she’s won a championship too! So let’s put that out there.

MC: Couple.

TH: Couple. [gives an impressed ‘Whooo!’]

[see what I mean? Journalists have gotta love Heise. She gives them so much material to work with for their stories.

Transcribers, however? Well, she certainly ups the difficulty rating, I’ll tell ya that.]

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REPORTER: Michela, you know, you and Taylor are obviously scoring a lot of big goals in the post season right now. Can you just speak to some of the little things that Kendall Coyne has been doing on your line? Particularly on the goal you scored. She’s driving the net, she’s taking Tapani’s attention.

MICHELA CAVA: Exactly.

R: What does she do to make things more open for you guys?

MC: I mean, people can’t keep up with her speed. So she’s definitely driving on the rush, she’s driving players. Usually that goes unnoticed. But when you play on a line, like, obviously a lot of times you guys are asking about us, but she could be sitting here too. Because she’s creating the opportunities. And she sees the ice really well too. Obviously we’re both- like, Heise’s a little bit taller than us, but we’re both very small, but I mean, she had 5 or 6 hits today. She’s playing so physical and so strong. Definitely a lot of credit to her too. And she’s definitely taking their players out of the play for us as well.

R: Ken, can I maybe just follow-up and get your thoughts on Kendall?

KEN KLEE: Sure. I mean, she’s awesome. She’s one of the fastest players in the world. When she’s on the ice the other team knows it. Just her speed alone creates large holes in the other team’s defense. Because she such speed they all, they either over back check or the D have to give her respect, which creates a lot of room for these two guys to be able to make plays in. She’s hunting pucks, she’s on it. She’s just going a great job. I think all three of them together are playing really well.

[I really like this exchange, because I think they really get at the heart of what makes KCS such a powerhouse of a player to me. If you just look at goals and assists she doesn’t have the highest in the league, but take a look at her +/-. She had the second highest in the league during the regular season for a reason. Part of why she’s one of my favorites is because of the way she makes an impact every time she hits the ice. Like, damn, she just seems like she’d be a nightmare to play against.]

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REPORTER: Taylor, Michela touched on it a little bit, but have you allowed yourself to think about, it is one win away, it’s the first inaugural season, what it might mean or feel like to win the first championship?

TAYLOR HEISE: Yeah, not really. I mean, obviously it’s gonna be a special moment, but it’s like, kind of thinking about what my next first shift is next- uh, next game. Thinking about the whole game: it starts with one shift. Obviously we came out and scored in the first shift. Cava came and had a great forecheck, got the puck to the net, Kendall drove to the net, and I was just there and was able to shoot. Those are moments you want to think about for the future, wanna think about for next game. So, no, I haven’t thought about what it’s gonna feel like, ‘cause I want it to be a feeling, that like, when it happens? I want it to be electric and I want it to be something that I haven’t had time to think about. So I guess that and just coming out hard next game. We’re just so thrilled to be in the position we are and hopefully we won’t have to go back to Boston. That’s what our goal is.

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REPORTER: This could be for either Michela, Taylor, or Ken, really. I think Sydney Brodt’s goal will prove to be the game winner in this one. Considering her injury and the rehab in the early season, what does that goal from that player mean to this team?

KEN KLEE: Well, I can speak for us. It’s huge. It’s awesome to have a player like that who’s rehabbing the whole year basically, I mean, she had, I think, one game before the break. And then, you know, came into the team when we were not playing our best hockey. But she stuck with it. She’s been at the gym every day, at rehab every day, working hard. I know that her teammates see it and they know how hard she’s working. I know that she wants to contribute. In some of the other games she wasn’t getting many shifts, so for an opportunity for her to step up? I think it’s a huge boost for our whole team.

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[End of Interviews]

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What follows is a just a lot of me thinking out loud and at length. And what and the hell do I know? Continue into the maelstrom at your own peril.

The reporters were asking much more interesting and thoughtful questions here than they did to the Boston team. And I know that it's easier to go in depth on things with the winning team, but still. I think a knowledgeable reporter can do a hell of a lot better than the standard "What are you gonna do better next time?"s and "Why do you think you got beat?"s they're always throwing out there.

Minnesota seems really confident here, which I love. And crucially, I got the feeling like they were confident, but not cocky. I like Heise's answer about them not thinking about winning the championship, they just wanna focus on how they can win the next game.

Of all the teams in the league I think Minnesota is the one who benefits the most from this format of playing the same team multiple times.

Nicole Hensley said in her interview after Game 2 that they're all used to a more one-and-done format when in comes to playoffs/finals games. And as we've seen, in that format Minnesota would have lost the championship to Boston. In fact, they never would have gotten to Boston, because they would have lost to Toronto.

But they've shown themselves to be highly adaptable. On that note they are the only team in the post season who was willing to try a different goalie. It's gotta be annoying to play against a team who's willing to mix things up like that!

Look at Game 1. Both teams playing out of their minds. Minnesota barely loses. And instead of saying, "Well, we were so close! Let's just do that again and maybe it'll go better this time." They decided, "hey, our offense is doing great, but Boston they seem to have a read on Rooney's style right now, let's mix things up defensively."

(speaking of which, no shade to Frankel, but guess who's been in net for Boston during 2 of Boston's wins against Minnesota? That's right! Emma Söderberg. And I suspect Boston itself thought Söderberg had a good defense to Minnesota's style, because they put her against them in their final regular season game against them too. But after Frankel went full raid boss against Montreal, there was no way they were swapping her out. And that's exactly my point of why Minnesota has got to be annoying for being so willing and able to make moves like that.)

[as I've said before I will always advocate for swapping goalies around, because I'm selfish and want to see them all more. And every goalie has a different style. AND wouldn't you want to try and match their styles to the offensive style of your opponents?]

Anways, when Minnesota is at their worst seems to be when they lose confidence and start trying to do the same thing again and again, trying to force it to work. But when they start to get confident they'll come at you every which way they can until they find that in.

But you can never count Boston out, because Boston seems to be unfamiliar with the word quit.

And as long as Boston doesn't let the stakes get to them, they are definitely a team that you have to respect. When they're on their game? The second you underestimate them, they'll come for your throat.

So will Minnesota get cocky and let their win streak go to their heads? Will Boston let the looming risk of losing the championship get in the way of playing their best? Will both teams bring everything they have and leave it all on the ice?

Here's hoping that whatever happens on Sunday, it's a game to remember.