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bunnysbrainrot · 7 months

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Keep Watching

Kinktober prompt: Reverse Cowgirl

Relationship: Sam Winchester x Reader

Content: Explicit sexual scenes, degradation, (lowkey) breeding kink, creampie (wrap it up), unprotected p in v, slight dom/sub vibes goin on.

Summary: It’s movie night, but you and Sam become focused on another matter. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to pose a challenge for you. Can you be good, and pay attention?

A/N: ….. have fun! 😃

“Babe, you wanted to watch a movie, and you’re not even looking at the TV,” Sam’s voice hushed. Your lips had found his throat, kissing along the tender skin and erupting reddish purple marks toward his ear.

His hair could cover them, you thought, still marking your claim across his skin.

You murmured into his neck, “But you’re so pretty. And, you’re right here.”

Sam rolled his eyes playfully before his hands gripped your waist when your tongue laid a thick stripe up the length of his throat. He stifled a groan as he tried his best to focus on the television.

“Should we turn the TV off, then? We can watch it after,” he offered, his hands wandering toward the hem of your shirt.

“No, I wanna watch it,” you whined, “It’s movie night, Sammy.”

Sam planted a kiss on your temple, smiling at the sweet nickname you’d started using for him. Aside from Dean, not many people called him that name, but Sam adored it - the way his name rolled over your tongue in a tone as sweet as sugar.

“Part of movie night, unfortunately, includes paying attention.”

Alone in the room together, you’d ditched any sort of undergarments, as well as your pants. Sam only sported a pair of boxer shorts, neglecting a t-shirt like usual. Sam would’ve been able to hold himself together if the situation were different, if you had covered your ass and tempting thighs, their supple warmth begging to be held.

You sat up and threw a leg over his hips, straddling his lap while the TV still blared in the background. Sam’s hands naturally found your thighs, his thumbs idly drawing circles on your skin. Underneath you, you could feel him growing hard against your core.

“Is that all it took?” you teased, grinding gently against his growing erection. Sam looked you over coolly and arched an eyebrow at you.

“You’re the one with no underwear. Plus, this-,” he patted your thigh, “is not helping much.”

You smiled proudly at him, beaming ear to ear at the success you’d achieved by ruffling his feathers a bit. The downside of your teasing was that you’d gotten turned on in the process, now with a warm slickness that seeped into the fabric of Sam’s boxers. Sam let out a low groan at the added warmth, a direct sign of what this had done to you.

Lifting your shirt over your head, you now laid completely bare for him, your full breasts now on display. Sam trailed a finger from each hand up your thighs and over your tummy, right up to your tits, pinching each nipple with a careful hand.

Sam rolled your nipples between his rough fingers, drawing a soft moan from you, breathing out his name like a prayer, a precious word you’d only whisper like this if he could hear it. You ground your aching sex against his clothed cock, nestling his shaft between your folds.

“Sam… I need,” you mewled, “more. Please.”

He happily obliged your request, realizing that he was also too eager to wait. A thought sparked in his mind - one that would keep you attentive while also keeping it challenging, simply to test your endurance.

Sam sat up and nestled his head in the crook of your neck, while his hands moved to your ass, kneading the soft flesh around your hips.

“Turn around, we’re still gonna watch the movie,” ordered Sam, his warm breath skirting across your skin.

You obeyed him, pulling your leg off of his lap and shifting around to face the TV. To your side, Sam hooked his fingers in the waistband of his boxers, sliding them down and off of his legs. His thick cock sprang free from the confines and slapped heavily against his belly.

“C’mon,” he patted his lap, where his cock twitched eagerly, inviting you over, “we’re gonna try something.”

Throwing your leg back over his hips, Sam held you above his length, keeping you on your knees while he positioned himself. His grip on your hip tightened as he urged you down, slowly lowering until his cock pressed against your drenched folds. With another push the head of his cock eased into you, every glorious inch of him following behind.

It didn’t matter how many times you’d done this - you adjusted to Sam’s size like it was the very first time. To him, you were always beautifully tight and warm, accommodating his thick cock perfectly.

He loved the sweet noises you made when he entered you. He could feel the way you tensed and flexed around his shaft, urging your pussy to stretch wider. It usually took a few minutes to adjust if you hadn’t engaged in foreplay, like tonight.

Normally he’d be loosening you up with his fingers, singing your praises as you came onto each digit. He would alternate his pace with those curling fingers, leaving you hollowed out, excavated by his eager hands.

It wouldn’t be enough for Sam until his fingers were completely soaked, when the pads of his fingers wrinkled and you were muttering dumbly under his spell.

But now he was filling you - his sheer girth splitting you open served as an immediate reminder. Your soft walls moved around him, pulling him in further until he head of his cock pushed against your cervix. Sam hissed through gritted teeth when he bottomed out full hilt into you.

Ahead of you, the TV played the movie you’d chosen, but its plot escaped you. All thought you tried to follow disappeared into an empty space in the back of your mind. This fucking movie didn’t matter, all that mattered was him. Sam Winchester.

Sam Winchester, who was actively bucking his hips into yours, nestling his cock into your tight cunt.

Sam Winchester, who playfully urged you to ‘watch the TV’ and ‘pay attention’.

“You’re a good girl, you can do it.”

You breathed shakily as he moved, jutting his hips up to strike deeper. You were impossibly full of him, with that wonderful girth stretching out your wet hole.

“I… I can’t. Sammy, I can’t… hah… keep going on like this,” you pleaded softly.

“Already? No, I’m sure you can do it, honey,” Sam replied, landing a slap to your ass. You let out a yelp, ignored by Sam.

After all, you wanted to have movie night.

He tugged your hips back, and pushed them forward, shooting that entrancing pleasure through every inch he filled. You shuddered around him and took his guided motions as your own. The motions were minute and gentle, grinding yourself onto his length and feeling the friction of your clit against his base.

Sam’s casual demeanor both shocked and frustrated you. Usually he would be falling apart as easily as you did, but this time he remained cool.

“Keep paying attention,” Sam reiterated, pulling you onto him harder this time. You cried out, but kept your pace, starting to bounce yourself along his length.

“Attagirl, just like that. Fuck yourself on my cock.”

His hands lifted you higher and pulled you down harsher than before.

“Bounce.”

With shaky breaths you obliged him, straining your shaky thighs to bounce on Sam’s cock. He hummed, satisfied, at the display in front of him. His thick cock stretching you wide at the thicker middle of his shaft, and the way your eager pussy swallowed him into your warm walls, flexing around him as you fought off your first orgasm.

“Sammy… I’m gonna… fuck… I’m gonna-“

“I know, honey, go on. Cum for me,” he urged, bucking into you once again, “cum for me, sweet girl.”

The tightness in your belly released and left you crying out against your bottom lip, caught between your teeth in a feeble attempt to quiet yourself. Your pussy clamped onto Sam’s cock in a vice grip as you rode it out, with Sam’s help as your thighs grew numb.

You moaned his name as you threw your head back, trying to gain any bit of fresh air. Anything to refresh you now that you were taken over.

“You paying attention to the movie?” Sam inquired, his hand snaking up your torso to one supple breast. He pawed harshly at your tit, cradling it in one hand and toying with your hardened nipple.

Of course you weren’t. With the way his cock was filling you, there was no way in hell you could think about anything else.

Incoherent slurring followed his question. A deeper stroke had you fumbling over your words - asking him to go easy, for him to slow down so you could follow his command.

Sam’s tone lowered, “Fucked dumb, huh? Can’t even form a sentence - too busy being filled up to care.”

He leaned back against the headboard to free his other hand, quickly finding your clit with pinpoint accuracy. Slow circles moved your swollen clit under his finger. His other fingers could feel the beautiful stretch his cock had on your cunt, nice and taught around his girth.

“You just can’t get enough, can you? Gotta have a big cock splitting that pussy wide, and you need it now.”

You reached toward your sex, fingers mixing with his own to feel it. You felt the base of his cock meeting your slick entrance, and the way his size warped your tight cunt around him. Gasping, you eagerly pinned your eyes on the TV, but didn’t dare move your hand.

Of course he felt big inside of you, but you never truly felt what he did to your insides. How thick he really was, and the way your pussy was naturally tight, but loved being used by him anyway.

“Such an needy little slut for my cock,” the degradation rolled through you like thunder, making you twitch around him as you came for a second time.

“And you like that, don’t you? You like being a perfect little slut, with a perfect little pussy for me to stuff with my cock.”

With his encouragement you bounced harder, the smacking of your hips together now filling the room, drowning out the sound of the TV. If anyone were to hear, they’d surely know exactly what was going on. Sam’s fingers rolled over your sensitive nipple and needy clit, bringing out the sweetest moans from your perfect lips.

“Keep moaning like that and you’ll make me finish, sweetheart. Be careful.”

It wasn’t something you would stay patient for. You picked up your pace while tightening your cunt around his cock, burying it deep inside, pounding his length into your sore hole. You ground your hips at the base, nestling the head of Sam’s dick against your cervix, your warmth enveloping him completely.

His abdomen tightened as his pleasure rose, threatening to spill himself inside you if you kept crying out like that. Sam knew it would be futile to fight it - him finishing in you was your favorite part, and you’d play dirty to get what you wanted.

You wanted to be claimed, to be owned, to be of service to Sam’s cock and whatever part he needed of your body. You were fully his to ruin and use.

“Please, Sammy… please fill me up. I need it,” you whimpered, falling back against his chest, stretching out your torso to feel the hollowness replaced with his cock.

“Sam, Sam, Sam,” like a hymn, begging for him to breed your aching hole.

Sam’s body tightened as he came, shooting his release through your walls, that now fluttered around him with your third orgasm. He loved when you came simultaneously - to him, it kept you closer.

After a moment, his cock twitched in your pussy, still spilling his load, coating your cunt in thick, warm cum. The warmth spread downward, leaking out of the seam between your ravaged pussy and his throbbing cock.

You bounced yourself along his length again, “Fuck it into me. I need it deeper.”

“Want it all for yourself? Such a greedy slut,” he growled, hissing as you clenched around his sensitive tip. He loved the idea of you keeping his cum deep inside of yourself, it was a perfect way to show you who you belonged to.

Sam Winchester, who stretched your pussy to fit his thick cock.

Sam Winchester, who owned every inch of your body.

Sam Winchester, who stuffed you to the brim with his cum, and fucked it deeper into your needy hole.

You sang out each other’s names as you both came down from your high, pathetically pushing your hips back and forth, back and forth, back and forth until your sore pussy couldn’t take it anymore. Sam eased you off of his cock and kept you on your knees, bending you forward.

He watched with great satisfaction as the cum leaked from your sweet, abused little pussy, right onto his drained cock. Those hot ropes of his seed flowed over your clit, covering your precious pearl of nerves with a thin layer of white. Nicely bred, perfectly used.

“You look so pretty like this,” he commented, trailing a finger through your soaked slit, collecting his cum on two fingers and easing them into you. You cried softly as his fingers worked through your stretched walls, pushing his cum further inside.

“Keep it in there. Don’t waste it.”

You tightened dutifully around his fingers as he pulled them from you, licking what remained on each digit. His cum, yours, it didn’t matter to him - it all mixed together in a rich blend of your juices that had him wanting more.

He helped you sit back upright and off of his lap, leaning on his side to check in.

“How you doin’, sweetheart?” His voice drawled lazily after his high, slurring through the words.

You nodded, panting, “I’m okay. How was I?”

His hand snaked to the back of your neck and tugged you to his lips, planting a chaste kiss before he spoke.

“You were amazing. You always are, sweetheart.”

The next few minutes were focused on cleanup and settling back under the covers. Sam offered you both some cozy pajamas, and now you sat comfortably under the blankets in the soft fabric. You nestled your head against his chest, watching the TV, at long last, with full attention.

“Can we rewind it? I missed the first part.”

Sam laughed, reaching for the remote.

Hiiiii everyone, i hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i did writing it! if you did, reblog and share this story with others!

as always, thank you for your support, i love you

-bunny

#fanfiction #supernatural #spn #spnfandom #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural smut #sam winchester #sam winchester smut #sam winchester x reader #kinktober #bunny writes

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leah-lover · 4 days

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Two hearts, one timeline. Alexia putellas x reader

An age gap romance. Part 2

“ We are delighted to introduce you to this young star. She is a 2 time world cup champion, the youngest ever to achieve that. A 2 time NWSL winner. A final’s MVP and just overall an inspiration. Welcome to the show.” said the reporter next to you. The studio was quiet and all you could hear was your heart beating in your ears. This wasn't the first time you were on TV but you were uncertain about the way the news you were about to deliver is gonna be perceived.

“ Thank you for having me.” you respond with a smile on your face.

“ After your recent NWSL win you were the talk of the sports world. Everybody is interested in whether you are gonna resign with your club or not. What do you say to those questions?”

“ Well I am sad to say that I will not resign with Seattle but very excited to say that a team I have been dreaming of joining has reached out to sign me. I have signed a 4 year contract with FC barcelona.”

“ Oh my god, that's exciting. Tell us how you feel at the moment.”

“ Well, I am very excited,but sad to say goodbye to my family in the states and at seattle. I think this challenge is gonna help me develop as a footballer and learn new styles.”

“ Well, we wish you good luck.”

“ Thank you.”

You exit the studio and the weight of the secret drops from your shoulder. You were gonna leave your home for a more competitive team and a shot at the chapion’s league.

Your move to Barcelona was smooth. You celebrated your run at your old club with the girls, took your flight the next day and landed in sunny Barcelona, the weather was as great as they all said. You then went directly to your new apartment. The time zone change weighed heavily on your body so you took a shower immediately, put your sheets in your new bed and laid down as soon as you could. You then opened your phone only for it to freeze due tha new messages and followers you received. You could see all the comments and messages your new teammates wrote on your post congratulating you on the signing and wishing well for you. This made you excited for your first day tomorrow.

When you woke up the next day you were nervous to say the least. You got ready, called a taxi and headed to the facility. You first got a tour of the facility which was empty because it was early. You met as much staff as you could, did your fitness and health test, a photoshoot, and shot some content. By the time you were done your teammates were done training too. You were ushered by the assistant coach to go to the field and meet everybody.

Your heart was beating like a drum. You were standing next to alexia putellas, aitana bonmati, lucy bronze, and mapi leon. Those people are more experienced and have more accolades than you.

“ Everybody please welcome our new signing from the US.” said your coach which caused all of them to start cheering.

“Hola a todos. Estoy emocionado de ser parte de este equipo, compartir el campo con todos ustedes y ganar algunos trofeos con ustedes.”

“Joder, hablas español y tus estadísticas son buenas, nos llevaremos muy bien.“ said patri putting her arm on your shoulder and guiding you inside.

“Si ella hablara catalán habríamos sido mejores amigas.” said aitana sarcastically.

The rest of the day went on great, you had lunch with the girls, you laughed with them, and exchanged stories. They welcomed you very well.

“ for a young girl you really carry yourself well.” said lucy

“ I had to grow up quickly.” you respond to her.

Your first month at Barcelona was amazing. You got on with the girls really well, training was going well, you had your first start within 2 weeks of your arrival and the fans were really happy with you after your first hattrick in the last match.

“Necesitamos celebrar tu primer mes exitoso con nosotros estrella.” said mapi while you were recovering in the gym. Estrella was the Spanish translation of the nickname the fans gave you when you were getting famous, which was stargirl. That nickname was used by everybody you knew, even the press. But from them it sounded different.

“ Yeah sure, just text me the details.” You responded.

You then went home, showered, and rested. You then got a message from the group chat.“ La terrazza. 8:00.”

Since they went there to celebrate you, you decided to show up and show out. You decided on a black maxi dress, heels, gold accessories, and a red lip.

You drove to the club and got there at 8 sharp. You went inside, and headed straight to the bar to order a drink. The girls started coming little by little, and by a few hours you were all jammed up dancing in the middle of the dance floor. However, your captain didn't join you; she instead opted to watch from the bar.

Alexia has been quiet and reserved around you. Maybe she didn't like you or maybe she was just a quiet person, you never really thought about it before.

“chicas voy a ir al baño.” You yell so that you can be heard over the loud music and exit the dance floor.

Surprisingly the bathroom was empty. You got your business done and went over to the mirror to fix your makeup.

“Parece que te lo estás pasando bien aquí en Barcelona..” said a voice from behind you which took you a minute to realize it was Alexia 's.

“ Capitana I am too drunk for Spanish right now.” You respond still facing the mirror

“ You look good. I mean happy in Barcelona.” She said nervously.

“ Well that's because of you and your friends out there. Actually it was more your friends than you since you hate me.” You respond l, alcohol making you braver than you usually are.

“ I could never hate you. I just can't control myself around you.” She says half whispering. “tengo que ir.” She added before she exited the bathroom.

“ This is definitely something I need to visit tomorrow when I am sober.” You say to yourself before joining the girls again. You were told that Alexia left which caused you to have more questions but you didn't give it much thought. You partied more with the girls before leaving.

Your head was pounding the next morning but you couldn't remember anything, only that you had a great time.

The following weeks were nothing short of spectacular. You were training well, winning every game, scoring every game, and you really built a community with the girls. But Alexia was giving you more space than usual which you couldn't understand why.

Jonathan could see that Alexia was cornering herself away from you so he decided to pair you with each other on everything under the excuse of her giving you more experience since she was older than you. She didn't talk when she was near you, she barely even touched you. This caused commotion in your brain. You lost sleep over why she despised you so much.

One day you had enough of the questions in your brain so you waited in the locker room knowing that she wouldn't come to it to avoid you. You stayed there af-ter all the girls left. After a while alexia entered the locker room

“ Have I ever done anything to offend you?” you ask as soon as you see her figure.

“ Mierda, me asustaste, pensé que no había nadie aquí.” she said taking a few steps back

“ capitana please just give a straight answer. What have I ever done to you?.”

“ We talked about this and my answer was nothing, the problem is in me.”

“ when did we talk about this i don't remember anything.”

“ that night at the party now will you please leave so that i can change and go home i am really tired.”

“ Alexia, this is eating away at me. All I want is for us to be friends or just teammates. Tell me what I did so that we can get past it.”

“ You did nothing, just get over it. You have plenty of friends.”

“No puc fer això ara mateix, és massa jove i hauria de proteger-la de mi” she whispers in catalan and leave without looking at you.

You didn't understand catalan but it was close to Spanish which you were fluent in so when you heard her words you could remember them easily. After she left you reached for your phone and translated her words. “ I can't do this right now. He is too young and should protect her from me.”

Alexia’s words shocked you. You felt dizzy and couldn't focus. You never realized that alexia could have anything for you except hate. You loved her and admired her for the player and person she is. You looked up to her kind heart and intelligent brain. But no matter what you thought about it you needed her approval, her attention, and her focus to be on you as much as you were on her. That's why her distance from you left you puzzled.

You knew that you couldn't stay like that, not when your brain was filled with questions that needed answering.

You left the training facility, and headed straight to Alexia's house.

Before knocking on her door your knees were weak and your brain was quiet. She opened the door mere moments later.

“ What did you mean by protecting me from you?” you asked as soon as she opened the door.

“ What are you doing here?” she asked.

“ What did you mean, alexia?”

“ i don't want to talk about this.”

“ well i do it's the only thing i have been thinking about.”

You force your way inside and she closes the door after you

“ You are not this passive aggressive. I know you. I heard alot about you. This thing you are hiding from me is killing me.” you say to her once she is in front of you.

“ Believe me when I say that I am protecting you.”

“ it's not your choice capitana. What are you protecting me from?”

“ I am protecting you from my feelings for you god damn it. We can't be together and that is all I have been thinking about. I have been thinking about you, your body, your laughter, your eyes. It’s driving me insane.” she yells as she slams the wall behind you.

You weren't shocked, you managed to keep your calm. You held onto her hand which was still on the wall. You backed up a little bit and didn't say a word.

“ this can't happen, you are 23, i am 30. I am older than you. I outrank you in the team. I just…”

“ i dont care.” you interrupt her still holding on to her arm. “ capitana i dont give a fuck. I want you. I need you. Do you want me?” you add.

“More than you'll ever know.” she whispers.

The air was still. The tension was high. You feel your body unintentionally move towards alexia. Your face was millimeters away from her you could feel her breath on your lips. You somehow got brave enough to kiss her. The kiss cut short because she pulled away.

“ please capitana i want this. I want you.”

She then kisses you deeply. Her need for you was apparent. She took control of all of you, not just your lips. She picked you up and walked towards her bedroom all while kissing you. She then threw you on her bed.

“ Are you sure estrella.” whispers

“ I never wanted anything more in this world.”

#woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso community #woso x reader #alexia putellas fic #alexia putellas imagine #alexia x reader #alexia putellas #woso appreciation #woso request

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katebishopsbow · 6 months

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YOU AND ME AGAINST THE WORLD • MAX VERSTAPPEN

pairing: max verstappen x sister!reader

summary: nobody enjoys being booed, and even the toughest of fighters like max verstappen would get disheartened from it. looking right through his act on camera, you decided to give your brother a call to tell him how proud of him you were. what you didn’t expect though, was to hear max cry.

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, reader being a good sister

word count: 1.4k

(image is not mine)

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

“And Max Verstappen wins the US Grand Prix!”

Your brother had done it again – proving to those who had ever doubted him that he was born a champion by getting his 50th race win. You watched the race from the living room of your family home, grinning at the TV screen with the biggest smile on your face as the camera panned over the Redbull racecar.

When Max came on screen during the post-race interview, his eyes crinkling from how hard he was smiling, your heart swelled with so much pride because you knew he was living out his childhood dream. You could still remember him telling you as a kid with the most determined look on his face that he was going to be a world champion one day, and you had never doubted him for a second.

That was when you could the faint sounds of people booing in the background, just barely masked by the voices of your brother and the interviewer. There was no doubt that the jeers were directed at your Max as he was the only one being broadcasted on the big screens, and the joy you were feeling moments ago had twisted into a sour, unpleasant feeling.

Max had worked so hard to be in his position right now. He didn’t have it easier than anyone else – he dedicated blood, sweat, and tears to his work and sacrificed everything to accomplish the achievements he had today just like all the other drivers on the grid, so why was he the only one being subjected to such unjust hostility?

Having been involved in the sport ever since childhood because of your father and Max, you had always known that people could be cruel. “The higher you rise, the sharper the knives,” couldn’t be more true, and people would do anything to tear you down. They would never acknowledge the effort and hard work you had given, because in their eyes you’d always be undeserving and overrated.

“Does the booing annoy you?” The interviewer asked the driver before him, addressing the unignorable sound of the crowd. Max chuckled lightheartedly at the question, shrugging his shoulder as he answered in good humor, “In the end, I’m the one taking the trophy home, so it’s fine with me!”

“So next week when it’s ten times worse and you win –” “Then I’ll still go home with the trophy, so it’s all good.”

The interviewer smiled at his graceful answer, glad that he approached the question with nonchalance instead of being spiteful and throwing a fit for the underserved hate. Max’s smile never faltered during the rest of the interview, appearing to be completely unaffected as he answered the questions all the while the crowd continued to boo him.

To the rest of the world, his act seemed totally convincing. It did look like he didn’t give two shits about the haters, laughing at some jokes the interviewer cracked as he talked about his performances during the race and areas of improvement. But you were his little sister, and you knew him well enough to know that the spectator’s reaction had undoubtedly affected him.

You noticed the way his lips twitched ever-so-slightly whenever the crowd taunted him louder, and how his eyes no longer had that gleam of genuine joy that was there when he first appeared on screen for the post-race interview. Max was such a great actor in front of the camera, always knowing how to put on the bravest face and the most convincing front when the world was watching him – but he could never fool you.

The interview concluded fairly quickly, with the interviewer congratulating Max on his 50th win and Max thanking him for his time. You watched as he gave a thumbs-up to the camera before walking off, and it’s times like this that made you wish more than anything to be there for your brother and let him know how proud you were.

So you waited for him to finish all of his media duties and obligatory team meetings that day, and dialed his phone number when you knew he had already settled down for the night in his hotel room.

In the dimly lit hotel suite, Max’s phone rang and he watched as the name “baby sis” and that terrible candid photo he took of you during a family vacation which he set as your contact photo appeared on his screen. He couldn’t help but laugh whenever he saw that picture – your face scrunched up in pure horror and disgust as a wasp flew toward your face.

He picked up the call and his face brightened up almost instantly the second he heard your voice. “Max, hey…” you said on the phone, your lips pulling up into the biggest grin the same way as your brother. “Hey kid, what’s up?” The nickname made you roll your eyes in feigned annoyance – even though you were all grown up and definitely not a kid anymore, he still called you that.

“Nothing much, just staying in for the night. You feeling okay?” You didn’t have to say anything more, Max already knew what you were talking about – the crowd booing at him this afternoon. He could pretend to not know what you had meant, diverting the topic to something unimportant, but he knew he would never get past you.

“Yeah, it’s whatever,” he hummed nonchalantly, hoping his curt answer could somehow fool you that he was not at all affected. The line went momentarily silent as you two said nothing to each other – you knew that he was lying, and he knew that you knew he was lying. “Max,” you broke the quietness and called out his name, “You know that I’m so proud of you, right?”

Max didn’t respond to your question, so you continued on with what you wanted to say to him. “We can all see your efforts… you are the smartest, strongest, most dedicated person I know and I am always so grateful to have you as my brother. Even when the world is trying its hardest to paint you as the bad guy and portray you as the villain, I know you have the kindest heart. I will always be by your side, Max. Always.”

You had to check your phone to see if the call had accidentally ended because the other side of the line was completely silent. “Max?” you called out your brother’s name again, and your heart ached with pity when you heard your brother’s soft sniffles over the phone.

Growing up, Max had rarely cried in front of you – it was always you who cried over the tiniest inconveniences and needed your brother to comfort you as you soaked through his t-shirt with your tears. You could still remember how his hands would glide down your back comfortingly, feeling like nothing could ever harm you again as he wrapped you delicately in his arms.

Max was always there when you needed him the most, and now you wished you could be there for him the same way he had done for you. “Everything’s gonna be okay, Max. I always got your back.” Hearing you say that you were proud of him and that you knew he had a kind heart was more than enough for Max. The world could say whatever it wanted about him, but as long as you were by his side, all is well.

“Thank you for saying that,” he said in a hushed whisper, voice wavering with emotions threatening to spill over. You wanted so badly to give him a big hug, to let him know that this was never his fault and he should never be punished by the world for his success. “It’s you and me against the world, Max, just like when we were kids,” you said with a smile, and for the first time since that afternoon, Max found himself genuinely smiling with you.

When the call ended that night, Max felt like a heavy weight was being lifted off his shoulders. He didn’t have to face the world alone, he had you by his side supporting every decision of his. The world could be so cruel, you both knew that, but everything seemed to be less nerve-wracking when you had each other’s back.

#f1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

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theriverbeyond · 6 months

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how do we know in the books that john is indigenous? can you say more about how his indigeneity is important to his story?

hello! so there is a word of god post on race (doesn't mention John but mentions that Gideon is "mixed Maori"), BUT I frankly don't think word of god statements are worth any weight without actual in-text support (see: the "dumbledore is gay" situation). SO!

Specific evidence that John Gaius is Maori, as revealed in Nona the Ninth:

When he is listing his education, John mentions having gone to Dilworth School (John 20:8). Dilworth is an all boys boarding school in Auckland and accepts students based on financial need instead of academic or sporting achievements. Demographics appear to be about 70% low income Maori boys, indicating that it is highly likely that John is Maori

John reports that P- said he looked like a "Maori-TV pink panther" (John 15:23) when his eyes turned gold. Maori TV is a TV station that is focused primarily on Maori culture & language revitalization, with presumably all or mostly Maori hosts, and tbh I don't see why P- would say this unless John was himself Maori

John uses a te reo Māori phrase ("kia kaha, kia māia") (John 5:20) when he is saying goodbye to the corpses in the cryo lab before the power is shut off. Though it is possible he said this as a non-Maori kiwi, but in combination with the previous two points of evidence I think this all very strongly points to him being Maori

He also renames his daughter Kiriona Gaia, "Kiriona" being just literally the name "Gideon" in te reo Māori

TLT is not a series that hands you anything on a silver platter but to ME this is all pretty solid proof

Why is this relevant to The Locked Tomb?

In Nona the Ninth, we learn that before he completed apotheosis and ate the solar system, John was basically trying to save the earth from capitalism-caused climate change. Climate justice and the rights of indigenous people over their own land are deeply tied together, in the same way that climate catastrophe and capitalism/ imperialism/ colonialism are linked. disclaimer that this is NOT my area of study and others have definitely said it better; this is just the basic gist as I understand it, but on quick search I found some sources here and here if you want to do some reading.

TLT is not a series that hands you anything on a silver platter, but i don't think it is a stretch to see John as an indigenous man trying to save the earth and getting ignored and shut down at every turn by primarily western colonial powers (PanEuro, the USA) who declare him a terrorist and then as a reader thematically connecting that to the experience of indigenous climate activists IRL

there are absolutely TLT meta posts that have discussed this before me; tumblr search is nonfunctional and I have been looking for an hour and a half and cannot find anything specific even though i KNOW i reblogged multiple posts about this in the first few weeks following NTN's release. sad & I am sorry

I think that by the time the books take place, John is 10k years removed from the cultural context he grew up in, with the Nine Houses having become a genocidal colonial power in their own right (with more parallels to be made between John's forever war for the resources of literal life energy and like, oil wars), but I also think that John Gaius is a fictional character who can represent and symbolize multiple different things in service of telling a story. (not to mention the potential thematic parallels being made to how oppressed people sometimes are pressed into replicating the power dynamics of their oppressors and continuing the cycle--now that is a tumblr post i KNOW i read last year and definitely cannot find right now, once again sad & I am sorry)

How Radical Was John Gaius, Really is a forum thread that was locked by the moderators after 234534645674564 pages of heated debate

#john gaius #nona the ninth #the locked tomb #tlt meta #i need to fix my tagging system fr #john meta #tlt thoughts #trb.txt #if anyone wants to add anything or correct anything PLS do so!!! i did my best hope this helps anon. this took me 2 hours

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capricornlevi · 5 months

Text

blowin' off steam

wc 3.4k - timeskip!atsumu miya x f!reader - college au - strangers to roommates to lovers - friends with benefits - possessive!atsumu - v nsfw, mdni

“Y’know … ya can't keep usin’ me as a way to blow off steam after a bad date.”

Atsumu’s words are emphasised when you feel the nip of his teeth against your lower lip, biting down just enough for you to feel the slightest sting.

Your roommate is many things, but subtle isn’t one of them.

The gesture makes you laugh, the sound all breathless and hazy as you fumble with shaky fingers to undo the back of your dress. With Atsumu’s shirt and joggers already tossed on the couch, you’re lagging considerably behind – though not for lack of enthusiasm.

Dipping his head in to kiss you again, you feel his strong hands reach up to assist your efforts to undress; before you have time to catch your breath, the red fabric falls to the floor to be swiftly kicked aside, landing in an untidy pile by the TV.

You moan in a voice that doesn’t even sound like your own. You paw at his bare chest with a confidence that seems alien to you, the desperation feeling like a force you can’t control.

And, truth be told, you’re not even sure how this routine developed.

Of course, you remember when he moved in last year, arriving at your door all sweaty and panting having come straight from volleyball practice to collect his key. You handed it to him wordlessly, eyes scanning over his muscular frame with a curious but sceptical outlook on what your shared living situation would be like.

You’d met Atsumu just once before then, at a party hosted by a mutual friend – the brother of your former roommate whose lease he ended up taking over – and you found him to be … fine. Pleasant enough. Saeko seemed to get along well with him.

Though he was more than a little hyperfocused on his own athletic achievements, having launched into the conversation expecting you to have a thorough understanding of college volleyball. You had, at best, an entry-level grasp on the sport.

When the conversation inevitably started to lag, you had contemplated kissing him to break the awkward silence.

It was late, you were tipsy, and he was hot. It seemed like as good a way as any to change the topic.

But he was whisked away by his drunken teammates before you had the chance, with them eager to show off their captain to anyone who would listen.

That’s the last you saw of him.

You were content on leaving things there, until your dear friend Saeko informed you that a friend of her brother’s wanted to move in when she graduated.

Atsumu Miya, she’d exclaimed, holding up the line in your favourite cafe as she talked, remember him?

He’d be the perfect candidate, she informed you in her usual exuberant manner, if you could overlook all the college athlete stuff, you’d get along great. He wouldn’t care about the broken ceiling light in the hallway or the next-door neighbour with four overly-zealous pet parakeets.

Not to mention all the parties he’d be able to get you into …

“Swear, he’s really not that bad,” Saeko chirped in between sips of her triple-shot americano, “Ryu told me he’s the only one who knows how to clean up after himself. And he’s in final year too, so you have that in common!”

Turns out, that’s the only thing you had in common.

It was a tense first couple of weeks. The two of you made polite conversation when in the kitchen at the same time, nodded in each other’s direction when passing by on campus, and even went out grocery shopping together a few times. He was a fine person to live with. He didn’t make that much of a mess and kept noise to a minimum.

However, the roommate bonding did not come naturally at all. It was awkward to the point where mealtimes grew unbearable, a constant barrier of silence hovering between the two of you, a reminder of how different you both were, how you live two distinct lives with no common threads.

That uneasy pattern continued until one night when you arrived home in the early evening, less than two hours into a Tinder date, a date you had been looking forward to for weeks.

You had brought it up to Atsumu in the context of polite but extremely stilted small-talk over cereal that morning, so he wasn’t expecting you home for several hours – if at all. You likely startled him because of this, his head snapping in your direction when he heard your key turn in the apartment door, sitting up suddenly from where he’d been laying down on the couch.

He flinched when you closed the door behind you a bit too forcefully.

“... everythin’ okay?” he asked slowly, hesitantly, unsure as to how badly the night had gone, and even more unsure as to whether he should ask about it.

You sighed and tipped your head back, eyes screwed shut with frustration – none of which was directed towards Atsumu, who just had the misfortune of being the first person you saw after Tinder Boy left the bar to take a call from his ex.

“Bad date, is all,” you mumbled, hanging your jacket on the hook by the door, trying your best to keep your temper on a tight leash. The last thing you wanted was to snap at Atsumu and turn your awkward living situation into a tense one.

“How bad?”

It’s nice that he cared, you supposed. Even if he was only asking out of courtesy.

Kicking off your heels before collapsing down on the couch next to Atsumu, you rubbed your tired eyes with the back of your hand, swearing under your breath when you remembered you were wearing mascara.

“Still in love with his ex of four years-level bad,” you answered despairingly, wiping at the mascara stain with your thumb. You were too exhausted to come up with a polite and watered-down version of events – may as well vent to someone, right? “They broke up before we started talking but got back together – without me knowing, obviously – and then she dumped him when she saw my messages this morning. He started crying before we even got the second round of drinks.”

A beat of silence passed, and for a moment you worried that you overshared to this practical stranger who just shares your communal living space.

“Well … that is a bad date,” Atsumu replied, and the earnestness with which he delivered it made you chuckle.

The chuckle turned to a laugh when Atsumu tried and failed to say something else, clearly lost for words at how to console someone in your situation, the cogs in his head turning over and over.

“Who is this guy, anyway?” he eventually settled on asking, his bright eyes fixed on your face for signs of discomfort. Seeing none, the corners of his mouth quirk upwards for a split second.

“The captain of the soccer team,” you mumbled in a quiet, defeated tone, already wanting to forget he ever existed. You had deleted his number before even getting in your taxi home.

At that, Atsumu barked out a laugh that shocked you out of your self-pitying stupor.

“What?” you asked defensively.

“Holy shit … him? I coulda told you he was a waste!” he grinned, shaking his head as he spoke. “You shoulda told me before goin’ out with him – guy’s known for pullin’ shit like that. A complete mess.”

You groaned, being met with another chuckle from your half-pitying, half-amused roommate. If you were in any other frame of mind, you could have stopped to appreciate how easy the conversation was, particularly in contrast to the ones you’ve shared before.

Even though the humour was technically at your own expense.

“Couldn’t you just give me a blanket warning about student athletes?”

He clutched his chest with mock offence. “Don’t you dare group us all with him. He’s the worst of us, promise.”

Rolling out your shoulder to release some of your stress, you noticed the strap of your dress has fallen down a bit. You fixed it absent-mindedly, paying no attention to the path Atsumu’s eyes were following.

“I’ll take your word for it,” you said light-heartedly.

“Appreciate it.”

A beat of silence passed, though it’s not nearly comparable to the ones you’ve shared before. This was nice, comfortable, natural.

It made you want to keep talking to him.

“I spent two hours getting ready for this, y’know?” you lamented through bittersweet laughter, finally starting to appreciate the humour of the situation. “Picked out a nice dress, painted my nails. I even shaved every -- nevermind.”

Your face heated the moment the words left your mouth, conscious of how much you just revealed. Things between the two of you were going from nice to comfortable to potentially too comfortable, and you felt you needed to dial it back before scaring him off.

Oh, you really hoped you hadn’t made things weird, or potentially wrecked the only bonding moment you’ve had since moving in.

But Atsumu didn’t seem too bothered by it.

Instead, he just stood up from the couch, walked wordlessly over to the door and shrugged on his own jacket, using his hands to style his messy hair into something more deliberately messy.

“What are you doing?” you asked, perplexed. He hadn’t mentioned anything about having plans that night, and it seemed a peculiar point in the conversation to just up and leave.

He turned to face you again, shooting you that blinding grin you hadn’t appreciated since that first time you met.

“Wanna go out for a drink instead?”

—

You woke up the following morning in a bed that didn’t feel like your own.

Strange, you thought to yourself as you buried your head into the pillow, you fully remember getting home last night - you only had two drinks the whole time you were with Atsumu - and you don’t remember talking to anyone else.

Once the tiredness wore off and you finally opened your eyes, you sat up in bed with a start and a gasp.

“Mornin’,” Atsumu yawned from right beside you, bleach-blonde hair once again ruffled from sleep. He lifted his arms to stretch, shifting the covers in a way that showed –

Yep, still naked. Both of you.

“Holy shit,” you hissed under your breath, tucking the covers back over your chest.

“Language,” he scolded, amusement leaching into every syllable. He propped himself up on his elbow, biceps tensing in a way you pretend you couldn’t see, and he just looked at you, casually observing the state of shock you were sinking into.

He did not seem to grasp the gravity of the situation whatsoever.

“We slept together, Atsumu!”

Your statement was a little redundant, you know that, but you felt as though the words needed to be spoken aloud in order for them to actually feel real.

Atsumu just nodded plainly, eyes twinkling as he took in your reaction. He didn’t seem rejected or dismayed, just … entertained. Curious. Like he was watching a rerun of one of his old favourite volleyball matches.

“Yes, we did.”

“You don’t – people don’t sleep with their roommates!” you blurted out, gesticulating in a way that verged on the overdramatic. Your heart pounded in your chest, and whether it was from embarrassment, adrenaline, something else, you weren’t sure.

He tilted his head to the side, puzzled. “Why not?”

You refused to answer his question; instead, you slid out of his bed, searching frantically for your clothes.

“That can’t … we can’t … we need to pretend that never happened,” you muttered, giving up on your search for your dress and grabbing one of Atsumu’s sweatshirts from his closet, draping it over yourself.

“Sure,” he drawled, entirely pleased at the image before him.

Through it all, you managed to roll your eyes.

“Atsumu,” you hissed, hurriedly grabbing your underwear from where you spotted it on the floor, “I mean it.”

“Okay,” he drawled as you let the door shut behind you, with an assuredness you didn’t understand at the time.

Your next Tinder date was three weeks later, and it didn’t take long for you to figure out Atsumu’s sudden confidence.

You didn’t intend on it becoming a pattern. Really, you didn’t.

But whenever you went on a shitty date – and knowing college boys, that happened fairly often – it was always so refreshing to know you had someone as charming as Atsumu waiting at home for you.

Atsumu, who knew what he was doing when it came to sex.

Atsumu, who you had developed so much trust for these past few months.

Atsumu, who you could rely on. Who you got along with.

Sometimes you’d only spend a few minutes talking to a new guy before making up your mind that you’d be spending the night in your roommate’s bedroom.

And tonight is no different.

Anticipation flowing through your veins, you feel your shoulders land against the soft couch cushions as Atsumu lowers you down, his hand somehow supporting your back and unhooking your bra at the same time.

He joins you on the couch, his giant frame wrapping around you as he presses kisses to every inch of skin he can.

“So, how bad was that date?” he asks diplomatically, politely, as if you can’t feel the hardness pressed against your stomach.

Your face burns under Atsumu’s careful attentions, mind already hazy. “I don’t wanna talk about him right now.”

Atsumu peers up from where he was kissing at the swell of your breasts, his eyes sharp and focused, a glint in them that you recognise as he starts to dip his head lower and lower.

“Good,” he mumbles, his lips on your ribcage, stomach, leaving trails of goosebumps until he’s on his knees on the floor. “I don’t really wanna hear ya talk about him either.”

You groan as Atsumu’s fingers trail along the band of your underwear, tugging milimeter by milimeter. You cant your hips up to allow him access.

“Wonder how he’d feel if he knew?” he ponders quietly, slipping the delicate fabric down your legs to be tossed to the side like the rest of your clothes.

“Hm?” you ask, distracted by the contrasting sensations of the cool air and Atsumu’s warm breath against your skin.

“I said,” Atsumu repeats carefully, using the tip of his tongue to trace a path along the inside of your thighs. “I wonder how he’d feel? Your date - knowin’ I get to taste ya tonight when he can’t?”

“Atsumu,” you choke out, the sound emerging as a pitiful mewl. Your hands bunch into fists at your sides, so tightly wound your knuckles start to ache.

He’s at the divot between your legs now, kissing and licking everywhere except where you so desperately need him, everywhere except the place that’s been throbbing for him since you started getting ready for this date.

“Yeah?” he says casually, with the confidence of someone who has you on a knife’s edge, someone who knows your body well enough now that he can tease and taste and draw things out to his heart’s contest.

You gasp, chest rising and falling erratically, sweat beading on your forehead as you writhe underneath him.

“P–please.”

Taking pity, he finally presses his tongue flat against you, tasting what’s been making his mouth water for months now.

You can feel him grin as he starts to suck on your swollen clit.

Your spine jackknifes off the couch almost immediately, the heat of Atsumu’s mouth and his talented tongue proving to be too much at once.

But you don’t ask him to stop. If anything, you spur him on, fingers twisting into his soft hair and crying out his name as if you hadn’t already received three noise complaints this month alone.

“‘Tsumu–” you gasp, hips bucking up against his mouth. “Don’t stop, please, ‘Tsumu, please …”

Atsumu hums, the vibrations resonating against your already-sensitive folds; he did it because he knows it makes you shiver against him, and he succeeds at doing so.

Every flick of his tongue, every careful switch in pressure, it all compounds in a swell of heat that gathers low and steady in your core.

Two fingers press at your entrance and are met with no resistance, slipping inside and almost instantly hitting that spot that only Atsumu ever seems to reach. Every cell in your body feels ignited, buzzing with energy and tension ready to snap like a rubber band.

He’s so good at this. Talented with every part of his body – and he always gets you off first, making sure you’ve come on his hands or his tongue before he even thinks about fucking you.

But that alone isn’t why you keep coming back to him after every date.

The sex is great, obviously, but there’s something about the way he handles you, a gentle possessiveness that stays with you long after you go back to your own room the following morning, an unspoken tenderness you can’t quite place.

He touches you like he’s in awe every single time.

Before you can think any further, he has his lips wrapped around your clit again and sucks, sucks until your vision goes white, until you’re about to –

“‘Tsumu I’m gonna come I’m gonna come–”

And you burn up underneath him, oblivious to anything else in the world but the feeling of his fingers pressing inside you, how he licks you through it under the waves subside.

Once your legs are steady enough to support you, he has you flipped around so your elbows are resting on the couch cushions, your hips propped upwards, eager to feel him inside you.

You feel his hands on your ass, spreading you open with unintelligible but undoubtedly praising murmurs, admiring his work.

Then, you feel the length of his cock press against you – not inside, but against your soaking flesh, circling slowly – as he sees how easily you’d take him, how you just suck him in, how you’re subconsciously backing up against him in order to get more friction.

It’s only when you’re on the verge of sobbing that he sinks inside to the hilt, hissing out a groan through his teeth as he feels you wrap around him so tightly.

If you wanted to, you could tell him that you spent the whole date tonight thinking about this, but he already knows that – you’d said something to that effect in a fucked-out haze about five or so dates ago.

Or you could tell him that nobody’s as good as him, but he’s (acutely) aware of that, too. You’re more than fond of the man at this point and you don’t mind padding his ego, but you can think of more creative ways to get him going.

So you deepen the arch of your back, spreading your legs wider for him to fuck into you, your fingers aching once again from how you’re gripping the couch for leverage.

He groans, the sound all low and drawn out, biting down on his lower lip to stifle it.

“Ya drive me crazy, y’know that?”

You smirk against the couch cushion. “I know.”

“B- but I told ya earlier,” he continues, his breathing heavy and unsteady. “I – we can’t keep doin’ it like this, after your dates.”

That takes you by surprise. You thought it was just a throwaway line, that it didn’t mean anything.

Does he want to stop hooking up?

“Why?” you ask, keeping your question to just one word so as to not give your panic away in your voice.

“Because,” he mutters, “Cos what if ya meet someone ya really like on one of those dates?”

The idea alone bothers him enough that he speeds up his thrusts, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass echoing around the living room.

Amidst the overwhelming sensation, you just about manage to articulate a response.

“What if I already have?”

He slows, hips still moving in and out but at about half the speed they were just moments before, and you feel one of his giant hands grip your hip for leverage.

As always, it’s firm but careful. Tender, even.

“You mean that?” he asks, thumb tracing soft circles at your hipbone.

You turn your head slightly, peering up at him over your shoulder. You smile with the full knowledge he knows the answer already, he just needs you to confirm it.

“Yeah,” you say with sincerity.

“So no more dates?” he asks, starting to fuck you in earnest again.

You laugh breathlessly, hazily. “No more dates.”

#atsumu miya x reader #atsumu x reader #timeskip atsumu #haikyuu #may tries to write #and they really and truly were roommates!!!

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kitkat238984 · 4 months

Text

Goddess Of Your Dreams (soulmate au)

Summary: In an alternate universe where soulmates are determined by unique marks, you do everything you can to hide your matching soul mark from the cold-hearted handsome devil, Hook.

But when a match with "Timeless" Toni Storm causes your secret to be revealed to the whole world, you have many awkward encounters that leave you both mesmerised and breathless.

TW: Mentions of sexual themes, normal wrestling violence.

The crowd roared as The Chairman’s Intent played through the speakers and Hook entered through the tunnel and made his way down the ramp towards his hungry-for-violence opponent, Wheeler Yuta. Excalibur’s voice fed through the TV screens in the homes of thousands.

“And we see the cold-hearted handsome devil walk down the ramp, so confident and expressionless, a complete contrast to that sunflower soulmark he’s sporting there, wouldn’t you say Taz?”

The father of the heart-throb in the wrestling world had to stay neutral in his job as a commentator, but never hid how proud he was of his son and his achievements. “Of course. But if there’s one thing I’m sure about is that he will make some lucky girl very happy”.

“Hook, doing his ritual of circling around the ring. And I think the soul marks make you realise just how human we all are, showing almost the vulnerability in people as stone cold as Hook”.

The match between Hook and Wheeler wasn’t for any title, only to settle a score when Yuta began cussing out Hook’s arrogance and the friends he “strings along”, and - as he usually does - Hook shoved those words where the sun don’t shine and had him caught in a redrum within minutes. After all, cursing is Danhausen’s thing.

—

A couple of weeks later, you were backstage, preparing for your upcoming fight against ‘Timeless’ Toni Storm for the Women’s World Championship. This was quite frankly the biggest match of your life, and against a wrestler who was far more experienced than yourself, even though you had been in AEW for a year now and had made quite the spectacle of yourself with your alluring character. You couldn’t count the number of times male fans of AEW had approached you with their clever but awkward pick-up lines.

“You’re ready for this” , the voice of your ringside and friend, Kris Statlander, told you whilst patting your shoulder. “You’ve studied every one of her moves and trained for weeks on end. How are you nervous about this?”

You ignored her question with no real answer to give her. You were ready, more than you had ever been for a match, let alone already being a decent wrestler.

You continued to watch yourself in the mirror. You really did look like a goddess. And that wasn’t you trying to be conceited because your whole gimmick was that you were Venus, the Roman goddess of love and beauty and sex and more. You wore waist high blue shorts with decorative white buttons and drawstring with a matching plaid sporting bra which cupped your breasts and made your cleavage visible for all to see.

You didn’t mind being used as sex appeal to be honest as it made you feel a lot more confident in your self. You’d hardly had any confidence before AEW until one day you decided to be brave, wearing very little sportswear at the gym which happened to be the day you were recognised as a potential for professional wrestling. Coincidence? Who knows, but you didn’t care. Everyone appreciated you as a good sportswoman. You were here and you were proud your dream came true whilst also being one of the best female wrestlers in the company.

“You know why I’m nervous”, you said, timidly, glancing to the right of the mirror to meet the gaze of Kris.

“We go through this every time, no one’s going to see it. They never do! That choker is very secure. You might as well be strangling yourself”.

You hummed, instinctively slipping your hand under the large braid that snaked down the right side of your neck and swept your fingers under the choker, touching where you knew your soul mark to be.

“I don’t even know why you bother hiding it. It’ll come out eventually. One of your hookups are going to piece it together”.

You smiled and chuckled lightly at her comment and turned around, tiptoeing to lean closer to her ear.

You whispered, “Daniel Garcia didn’t say anything when he had his hands wrapped round my throat”.

With a hearty laugh, you went to leave the room you used as a dressing room hearing her dramatically gasp, saying “Y/N, you’re such a slut!”

The door was half open with you facing inside. “I may be a slut but I still have morals. My soulmate is more important than any of those floozies”, you laughed again and opened the door fully, but almost crashed into a figure who was walking past and most likely heard the last of your conversation.

You looked up at the tall man wearing a white hoodie and black sweatpants and immediately cleared your throat and glanced back down when you made quick eye contact when he glanced at you with a raised eyebrow and continued on his way, not stopping once to question what he just heard.

“Awkward”. You turned your head to glare before nodding your head towards the hallway so you can get ready to go on, not before taking one last look at the cold-hearted Hook who had his hood covering that damned mark that matched yours.

Why, of all people, him?

You’d never even spoken to each other and you always thought that your personalities would clash. That is, if you even knew his personality. His cool exterior was only an act after all - or at least most of it. You had no clue where to even start with him.

Your ‘quick look back’ must have lasted a little longer than you anticipated because you found yourself being pushed through the dimly lit hallway towards the stage.

Toni Storm was already out there making her extravagant entrance as usual and the nerves suddenly hit you again like a continuous stabbing to the gut.

Kris must have read you like a book because she began roughly massaging your shoulders and shaking you, waking you out of the depths of your own mind.

“You got this", she told you. “Rip out the feathers of her boa and you’ll have her crumbling on the spot”.

“Or that would just make her even more angry?"

“Just beat her senseless and bring back that belt. Come on, we’re on”.

You heard the guitar riff you’d heard so many times which was your entrance song, 'Venus' by Shocking Blue - ironically not such a shocking song for your character.

Holding your best flirty face, you walked through the tunnel and stood centre stage, eyeing the crowd and blowing kisses at certain men on the front row, contributing to your act. You made eye contact with Toni Storm and gracefully travelled down the ramp with Kris tailing behind you, riling up the crowd a bit before walking around ringside.

Entering the ring you saw she had a mic in her hand and so you thought you’d wait to attack and have a little fun first.

“Any words before I banish you off the screen?”

You motioned for the mic and she willingly let you have it. “First off, that belt clashes with your outfit. And secondly… I’m about to knock you into the 1800s, showgirl”.

You throw the mic to the side and headed straight for the attack which Storm skilfully dodges but you bounce back on the ropes and high kick her in the face which makes her stumble back.

You go back and forth with the attacks and a few minutes in it’s still difficult to predict a winner as you both fight through the pain, eager to get your hands on that belt.

You let her swing you around the ring before stranding you in the middle where she kicked your back and you fell forward, face first into the canvas. Blood was most likely pouring from your nose at this point and you felt pretty helpless but, your arms the only thing keeping you up, even when she had your legs bent and leaning on your back you still wouldn’t budge so the referee never started counting.

Everything from that point felt like slow-motion. Storm yanked up your hair and grabbed a hold of the precious choker that you felt the need to guard with your life. However, you couldn’t stop her as your arms were still in use to hold you up.

You thought you could hear the voices of Excalibur, Tony, and Taz commenting on this scene when your oxygen privileges were taken away from you for a brief couple of seconds.

“Dramatic as ever! Toni Storm ripping that choker from Venus, breaks the chain, and still has her-”

“Wait a minute there, Tony”, Excalibur interrupts. “What’s that? On her neck?”

“Why, it’s a sunflower!” He was quick to reply. “Oh, my god! Now, for anyone who doesn’t remember, that’s the exact same soul mark as our very own Hook! Taz, how are you feeling about this?”

A few seconds passed before Taz responded to that question, bewildered by this realisation that millions of people in the fanbase had just come to terms with. “For the first time ever, I-I have no words. I’m utterly speechless”.

You couldn’t believe what had just happened. You were in such shock that the one thing you were trying to hide was revealed that you lost control of your arms and they gave in to both the weight of yourself and Toni - who was still laying over your back - and the recoil of your head after the breakage of your choker.

You acted fast when the referee began smacking his hand on the canvas and you swung your elbow back into Storm’s side, rolling her onto her front in place of you, pulling her legs back and holding down her upper back with your knees so she couldn’t escape.

Within three seconds, you heard the ring of the bell indicating your victory and had secured yourself the WWC. You carefully got off your opponent and used your large braid which was still somehow intact to cover the sunflower mark. You knew it was all too late but perhaps you could save yourself at least a little dignity for now.

You allowed your hand to be raised in the air and for the Women’s World Championship belt to be slung over your shoulder. You decided to not let your revealed secret take away your triumph and you gladly stood on the ropes of the ring and held up the belt for the world to see. Most of the crowd were cheering which you were relieved at.

Jumping out of the ring you picked up a mic and yelled out, “Checkmate, bitch!” before Kris attacked you with a hug which you happily embraced, knocking the microphone out of your hand.

With smiles strewn across your faces, you limped up the ramp and gave the camera a wink and blew a kiss before heading through the tunnel.

You were greeted with “well done”s and “congratulations”’s, and you didn’t fail to notice every one of them look at where your soul mark was.

“I can’t believe I just did that”, you said to them all, still breathless.

“We thought you were a goner when she had you pinned like that. Such a turn around”.

“Saw it in the viewing room. Could’ve gone either way”.

“Y/N…” a stern voice called to you. You turned to see who it was and came face-to-face with the one and only Tony Khan.

Ah shit.

“I hate to cut this celebration short but could I speak with you for a moment?”

You stared in shock. “Uh yeah of course”.

He couldn’t fire you, could he? It was just a soul mark. Even though the scenario that he would get rid of you was unlikely, the fear plagued your mind.

—

“I first want to say well done for securing the Women’s World Championship. You deserve it after all the effort you’ve put in this year”.

“Thank you”, is all you managed to say.

“I’m going to be straight with you. It was very irresponsible to keep something like a soul mark matched with another wrestler away from myself and the team. We would have understood if you wanted to keep that a secret from the public but not us. We could have helped you and prevented a situation like this from happening".

You sighed, knowing he was completely right and you should have at least told someone about it so you could get help to cover it rather than taking it upon yourself to hide it from everyone.

“We can’t do much about it now. The public already knows and we’ll just have to go with it”.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying, sir?”

“If what you’re thinking is incorporating it into a story line, then yes”.

You had such mixed emotions coursing through your veins at this moment. You were relieved that you weren’t in trouble, excited you were part of a new story line, thrilled that you’d just won your match against Toni Storm, and scared as to what your soulmate would say to you after this.

He continued. “But I have to ask. Did Hook know?”

You shook your head lightly in shame and looked down at the hands that sat fidgety on your lap.

“Well I’ll give you time to sort out a few personal things, and I’ll make sure promos are recorded regarding your new on-screen romance first before there’s any action in the ring. Thank you”.

You nodded in appreciation and left his makeshift office, now bubbling in anticipation at this new opportunity. You practically ran to your dressing room where Kris said she’d meet you and you’d get changed and party until dawn, drinking to celebrate your success and to also forget about the future encounter with Hook, well… Tyler is what you’d found out his name was, but you weren’t ready to be so casual with someone you'd never spoken to before.

—

When you were back at work, you expected Hook to approach you straight away, however, the most you got out of him was a mere glance your way or sometimes you’d catch him staring at your back, not that he seemed even the slightest bit embarrassed to turn away.

You couldn’t possibly start any conversation with him. In fact, when you were told what was happening for one of the promos, introducing your on-screen romance, you never spoke to him about it and had to improvise when the cameras were placed on you both.

“Danhausen, tell us how you’re feeling about the upcoming trios match?” The interviewer asked him. Danhausen being himself, he had this scary yet amusing pose with clawed fingers in front of him.

“Very good. I have cursed all three of them so they may die before then”, he said in his freaky accent.

“And of course you’re teaming with Hook and Orange Cassidy - a pretty strong team formed there if you ask me - how do you think they’re coping with the pressure of this match?”

“I fear they are frozen”.

“Uh frozen? What do you mean by that?”

“Some powerful sorcery has frozen them in time. Look!”.

The camera first focused on Orange Cassidy who was leaning up against a wall, both arms and legs crossed and slowly chewing on a piece of gum.

The camera then turned to you and Hook who were told to stand opposite one another, simply staring into the other’s eyes, your soul mark being the one to show the camera.

Although it was only acting, you still felt butterflies floating around your stomach since this was technically the most you’ve ever interacted with him, your soulmate. No one else’s soulmate. None of his adoring female fans had the same mark as him on their necks. The thought of you being the special one almost brought a smile to your face, but you had to stop yourself when you remembered the cameras.

You used this time to really appreciate his facial features. How had you not realised how attractive he was sooner? His jawline was well-defined yet looked so soft to touch. And his eyes… so dark but so… intriguing… and… and… what were you saying?

You’d got so lost in the moment that you hadn’t even realised that the cameras were no longer on your faces. It was only when the clicking of Danhausen’s fingers in between you both that you were brought out of your trance.

“I fixed them! I didn’t know I could uncurse someone…”

You saw Orange Cassidy on the other side of the room, peeking over the top of his sunglasses with his suggestive look at you. Hook hadn’t once flinched or maybe even blinked and still continued staring your way. The fear and self-consciousness struck you like it had done a thousand times before and you awkwardly walked past him towards catering where you were to meet Kris and Willow.

You were smitten alright. Unmistakably. And you did not want to make yourself feel even more flustered than that situation had already made you.

—

The plan was simple. "Timeless" Toni Storm and her husband and AEW wrestler, Juice Robinson, would talk shit about you in the ring, daring you to come out with the belt. You’d go out, say something snarky, they’d beat the crap out of you, and Hook comes out to save you. Easy. Simple.

Except it really wasn’t that simple. Not when Hook was involved. You couldn’t bring yourself to confront him again. Danhausen’s promo was only the beginning and you only just managed to hold yourself together then.

It took you a few laps around your hotel room that morning to clear your mind of the worries. Once all of this was over and everything made sense in the world, there would be nothing left to worry about and you would actually be able to get on with your life and career in peace.

You were backstage, ready for your entrance. Hook stood only a couple metres away, eating a bag of chips. If there was one thing you definitely knew about Hook as Tyler, it was that he loved chips. Even when the cameras were nowhere in sight you always saw him with chips to hand.

“...so what I want to say to Venus is that if you want to disrespect my beautiful wife, then you can come out here and say it to me as well. Come on! What are you afraid of? Everyone knows your dirty little secret now so you might as well show it to the world!”

You took that as your cue and motioned for the sound and visuals manager to play your into. When it began, you wasted no time strutting out on stage, with no bother sending kisses to the crowd. After all, you were meant to be angry at them.

You were given a mic at the end of the ramp and when you entered the ring, the power couple before you stood tall and confident, looking down at you who stood alone with your newly won belt you felt the need to protect.

“Let us not dither with such a minor dispute. I don’t want to waste my time with an extra”, Storm laughed, and you heard a few boos in the crowd. Thank you. “You have stolen what is mine and I want it back. Now”.

You smirked to the crowd and back at her who had her hand out expectedly.

“It’s actually my belt now. My belt, my championship, my title. If you want it, you’ll have to come and take it from me. Mr. Loverboy over here don’t scare me”.

An impulsive thought suddenly came to you whilst saying that. Where were their soul marks? Were they matching? People get into relationships, but normally they wait for their soulmates for marriage. Perhaps you just couldn’t see their marks, you thought, but then inwardly grimaced at where it might be as Robinson wasn’t exactly hiding much of himself with the amount of clothing he was wearing.

“And where’s yours?” she asked. “Are you done staring at each other or are you still both lost little puppies, looking for their owners?” The teasing began to infuriate you. She must have been told to make the most of how she was the one to shed the light on your soul mark.

“It’s… none of your business…” you awkwardly stated, glancing off to the side.

“I’ll tell you what is my business. That championship. Darling?”

Within seconds, the mic flung out of your hands for goddess knows how many times now and before you knew it, your hands were pinned behind your back and you had fallen to your knees, hair pulled to look up the 1920s star, officially at the mercy of the couple.

As always, Storm dramatised the entire scenario, acting as if the belt was an Oscar she’d won for a picture show, and suddenly flung it to the side of the ring before striking your face with her forearm several times and you could do nothing but endure it.

At one point you decided to test the waters and spat at her, who gasped disgustingly and kicked you to the side and you dropped on the floor.

As if on cue, the arena darkened and Action Bronson played through the speakers, notifying you that Hook had entered the scene, and the butterflies yet again fluttered in your chest.

Don’t get nervous now with millions of people watching you, Y/N.

At the sight of Hook striding down the ramp with his cold-hearted yet handsome, sort of devilish expression - oh you got why they called him that now - Robinson and Storm ran past him towards the tunnel, Hook intimidatingly puffing out his chest through his hoodie as they crossed.

The crowd went absolutely wild when they saw that Hook hadn’t stopped there and fought, but climbed through the ring and stood over your feeble state. As expected and without any exchange of words, he offered you a hand which you looked to the audience for approval before accepting gratefully.

Ahhh it hurts so much. I didn’t realise the soulmate bond was this powerful. Was he feeling the same as me? How was he so cool about this all?

You smiled as you both walked up the ramp in style, a couple that were quite frankly unstoppable to AEW.

You didn’t bother lingering backstage, hoping that maybe Hook would finally approach you since you still couldn’t gather the courage to do it yourself. It was rather hypocritical of you seeing as you had an entire year to say something, but you just wanted to know if he was interested in you or not before making a fool out of yourself.

A small gasp escaped your lips when a strong hand gripped your arm and spun you around where you faced the devil himself. He stared at you like he had all those other times, although you noticed the subtle desperation in his expression as his nose twitched and eyebrows furrowed, adjusting his jaw.

His eyes shifted and you followed his gaze to where your mark was and self-consciously reached up to touch it but his hand gently took hold of your wrist, stopping you, and his head leaned closer toward your neck.

Was this a chapter out of Fifty Shades of Grey or something?

You couldn’t tell if your heart had stopped or if it was beating so furiously that it would burst out of your chest. A shiver sent down your spine and a shaky breath left your lips when you felt his own brush over the mark you shared, giving you the perfect angle to see his own soul mark.

It really was a replica of the one you had which was a given.

His head lifted out of your neck and he met your eyes again, this time exhibiting a sly smirk telling you that he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

How devious… but you couldn’t deny that you were loving every second of it.

“Why were you ignoring me?” you finally managed to ask after weeks since your mark was first shown in the ring. His obvious attraction and reveal of his need for you as well fuelled confidence within you, and you were glad that this encounter had turned out the way it had.

“Why did you hide this from me?” He placed a hand on the side of your neck which now filled you with warmth and comfort.

You kept quiet and bit your bottom lip as you didn’t really have a good explanation for why you did what you did.

He chuckled lightly and quickly looked over your body, licking his lips - a small detail that only someone as close to him as you were in that moment would have noticed.

“Well now I know we’re soulbound, it’d be rude not to ask the lady for a drink after the show. So how about it?”

A large, mischievous grin swept across your face. “I’d love to. But you should know that I don’t commit on the first date. Not to anyone”.

“Not even to your soulmate? Aren’t you meant to be the goddess of love?”

“Are you saying you’re already in love with me?”

You had both found yourselves gradually getting closer and closer. You didn’t even realise when your chests had come into contact, breath tickling each other’s faces.

“Can’t argue with the soulmate bond”.

Almost in desperation, your lips crashed into Hook’s who’s hands travelled to your waist to somehow pull you even closer than you already were, your arms snaking around his neck, fingers sliding through the hair at the top of the nape of his neck.

“...I thought these videos were meant to be about me…” a voice broke you out of your kiss and you felt Hook huff and pout like he usually does, making you giggle at his childishness.

You turned and saw Danhausen standing, watching you both in confusion with the camera crew situated behind him, pointing towards you.

This was undoubtedly going to be aired in a promo but you couldn’t care less in that special moment of yours. The crew left once they realised that you both weren’t going to budge from where you were. You’d just been thrown in the arms of your soulmate after a year of knowing the truth and over a month of incredible attraction.

Your attention was very quickly back on the man securely holding you in place, and you decided to tease him a little if that was the game you were going to be playing. “I’m not just the goddess of love. I’m the goddess of beauty… desire… sex…”

Knowing exactly where you were going with this, his smirk returned, bigger than before. “Well let’s see. Beauty? Check. Desire?” He told a hold of your hand before guiding it towards the bulge that stuck out of his sweatpants. You squeezed his length gently, earning a soft groan before pulling your hand away again. “Check. Sex? Well I guess I’ll be the judge of that”.

His hands slid down, cupping your ass and lifting you up with ease as you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. You felt yourself being carried through the halls backstage and you used this time to entangle your hands back through his hair which caused him to squeeze where his hands were placed on your backside.

You lightly nibbled on his neck where the mark was and breathed in all of him.

Ugh. Did he always smell this fucking good?

You didn’t care if the people you passed were judging you or not; you only cared that all this tension was finally about to be released.

“You’ll be turning full heel after the night is over, baby. I’m about the fuck all that gracefulness out of you”.

You giggled and leaned in close to his ear and whispered, “You just try me”.

THE END.

#hook aew #hook x reader #aew #danhausen #aew fanfiction #hook x you #hook x y/n #hook fanfiction

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kahuunknown · 8 months

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The "Rebellious" one - BBC Sherlock sibling fanfic

!NOTE!: Male-reader/insert, inspiration from SHERLOCK TV Show

~~~

The rebellious one

Sherlock absolutely loved you; you were by far his favourite sibling by a long shot. You were the eldest of all your siblings, 1 year older than stuck up Mycroft and 8 elder than dear little Sherlock Holmes.

You were the troublemaker, mischievous without a doubt. You saw little reasoning behind Mummy dearest’s desires for you to become something great, like a doctor or lawyer. You hated the private piano lessons, the pointless tutoring sessions and eventually school altogether. It was easy to guess what you did, but dropping out of school was by far one of the best decisions of your life, and one of the easiest as well.

You were rebellious by nature.

Mummy and Daddy weren’t quite sure where the behaviour stemmed from as it was definitely not inherited from either of them. It was obvious to you however, the stress of being the first born, the expectation to be the most successful and therefore grand of your siblings. To be able to support yourself with ease and help your siblings if the need arises.

While you respected the ideal. You ultimately rejected the pathways your parents provided, paving a new one and building everything from nothing. It was satisfying seeing your parents reaction when you visited one Christmas dinner, they were horrified at the ink adorning your right arm. Sherlock however quite liked it, in fact he wasted no time gifting his present early, he wanted you to get his pirate sketch tattooed. And who were you to deny him?

That cute little face was irresistible normally, but with added intent and desire behind them? God, you were putty in his hands.

Together you went to a tattoo parlour, Sherlock was rambling furiously to the tattoo artist whilst the ink was being stained onto your skin, it was adorable, the passion in his story as he explained the intricacy of his design and the meaning behind it. ‘The adventures of Yellowbeard’. Sherlock called it, or something similar at least.

It didn’t quite match the other tattoo’s you’d gotten, as those were all grey-scale realistic designs, but Sherlock was adamant that colour was non-negotiable. The young Holmes was a hyper little bean as he jumped around in joy at the completion of his masterpiece. You couldn’t stop chuckling at his antics; the innocence was overloading your system.

Of course, Mum and Dad were horrified once the two of you returned, though they seemed less upset at the tattoo and more with the aspect of Sherlock in a ‘biker’s tattoo shop’ of which it was absolutely not. You weren’t an idiot, you’d made sure Sherlock was as safe as could be.

Mycroft thought you a moron the majority of your life. Growing up he strived to pass you at everything he possibly could, interestingly enough, it took much longer than expected. He thought you were just another goldfish, swimming around dumbly just like all the others. But of course, you were more than that he later realised.

You were a sponge. While you hated your mother’s insistent lessons and tutoring, you had an eidetic memory and couldn’t help but memorise absolutely everything ever taught to you. You would have been a prodigy, everything your parents ever dreamed you to be. But unfortunately for them, you had slightly different plans.

Mycroft thought he’d finally done it when he joined the British Government, there was no way you could outshine him now. Yet, despite not having achieved a high standing career, it was obvious that whenever the two of you met, who was smarter ultimately. You were the opposite of what you parents dreamed you to be, yet you were the happiest having done so. Mycroft admired that.

He’d admit that of course, you would win in physicality. Always. You loved going outside, working out, playing sports, and eating healthy. It was one of your passions, something that ultimately benefitted you quite greatly as your appearance remained younger for much longer than if you had of neglected fitness and health. Sherlock teased Mycroft relentlessly about it as well, how young and fit their elder brother looked in comparison. Of course it was playful teasing, but it was definitely something to respect.

It was only more recently that all three brothers started getting along quite nicely. Sherlock of course never thought ill of you, he just assumed you were an average idiot like John. You played the part quite well, snickering behind Sherlock back while explaining things to John, whom believed you to be his favourite of the Holmes children. You were fun to be around, the most human and emotional of all. It was refreshing to be around.

When you finally decided to reveal your hidden superpower, he was dumbfounded but also instantly relieved.

Mycroft however was a very different story. It started slowly, you invited him randomly to a gig, of which he was pleasantly surprised when he arrived to a wedding, you adorned in an unfamiliar suit standing at the stage and singing a sweet lullaby to the lucky couple. It wasn’t your usual style, sure, but you wanted to ease Mycroft into your life, and what better way to do it?

Over the years, Sherlock had subtly provided you with more tattoo designs he’d wish for you to get, all his own of course. You were still a sucker for those eyes; it seemed their affect never dimmed as the detective aged.

Eventually one day Mycroft approached you on the matter, rather shyly you’d point out as well, you were open and encouraging as he mumbled the reluctant request to add to your collection of ink with one of his own. Stating through hidden messages within his speech that he’d been feeling a little left out. Of course you were ecstatic, more than happy to agree.

It was then that Mycroft realised no matter what he’d accomplish, you always have the upper hand in the end. Not because of intelligence nor deducing skills, but because of your raw compassion and commitment to your beliefs and dreams, it was awe inspiring. Beautiful even.

Perhaps those brothers of yours might do a little rebelling of their own.

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overtrred28 · 6 months

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Stargirl | matildas x original character fic [part one]

Words; 1.2k

Pairings; matildas team x astrid taylor (OC)

Warnings; none (i don't think)

A/N; first part of this series, if this goes well. please give me love and some feedback and hopefully theres many more parts to come. also this is mainly just backstory for now. enjoy xx

masterlist

Astrid Taylor had been dreaming of playing for Arsenal Women’s football club since she was 5 years old after watching her first game on the TV, immediately begging her parents to take her to a real game, but that was a bit difficult considering they lived in Australia. So through the screen, the obsession continued well into her teens, staying up late or waking up early to watch games and analyse the plays, just so one day she would be good enough to get there.

When she was 6 she joined her first club after finally convincing her parents that this sport would stick, unlike the gymnastics, swimming and karate she had gotten bored with previously. And it turns out she really enjoyed it, and she was kinda good, not great, but she could keep up within those first training sessions and games. Astrid got really into it, spending most of her freetime in the backyard or the pitch down the road just kicking footballs and trying to score goals.

She kept getting better and better with all the extra practice she was putting in outside of regular training. Her coaches, parents, teammates and even other parents would constantly say how impressed they were with her progress and determination as they watched her excel. As she grew up she stayed in the same small club, sticking with who and what she knew, she was comfortable. But she was getting good, fast and helping her team win each game as their captain, constantly leading them to victory at the end of each season. Football became her life, overtaking everything else, especially school, but if she wanted to get to Arsenal one day; she had to keep pushing. Her family knew that being in a small town club wasn’t going to get her far, but they weren't able to move to get her in a bigger club so she stayed with her team and her friends, doing what she loved and working on her skills constantly.

When Astrid was 14 her coach approached her after a game, saying there was someone who wanted to speak with her about her recent performances. That someone turned out to be a Junior Matildas scout. She said she saw videos of Astrid’s last few games and started looking into her and all her achievements like constantly winning player of the match, leading her teams to win leagues and her impressive score sheet. The scout asked Astrid if she wanted to join the Junior Matildas squad. It was a dream come true. And her parents made a way for it to happen.

Flash forward a few years and she had dropped out of school to play for the Junior Matildas, being a constant forward in the starting 11 and scoring plenty of winning goals during their games, while also still playing for her local club between matildas camps and the off seasons. When she turned 17, Astrid hoped she would be considered for the next season in the Young Matildas squad and continue playing for her country for the next few years at least. But the call for that squad never came, a different one came instead.

It had been a few weeks since some of the other girls in the junior squad started receiving calls and offers to play for the next level, The Young Matildas U20 squad. But Astrid was patiently waiting for someone to call, and she began to lose hope, her mum and dad trying to comfort her when she returned back home at the end of the season for break. It was taking so long, the anticipation and anxiety eating her alive. She almost gave up but her dad made sure to encourage her to play with him to keep practising at home, keeping her semi distracted.

They were all sitting at the dinner table when her phone began buzzing, a random Sydney number calling and she dropped her fork, scrambling to answer the phone.

“Hello? Astrid speaking.” Her parents watched her, holding hands with each other watching as she put it on speaker.

“Hi, this is Gina Rees, the team manager for the CommBank Matildas, how are you?” The voice spoke and Astrid’s jaw dropped, her parents eyes widened.

“U-uh good, thank you.” She muttered out, voice wavering.

“Good. I was just giving you a call to inform you that you have been invited on the CommBank Matildas squad.” Gina spoke and tears sprung to Astrid’s eyes.

“Oh my god! Are you serious? This isn’t just for the young matildas?!” She tried to keep composed over the phone, but it was hard.

“No. For the national squad.” The whole family couldn’t believe what Gina was saying. “We’ve been keeping a watch on you in the junior squad and when it came time for the Young Matildas call up, you exceeded our expectations and thought it was best to consider you for the national squad.” Tears fall down her face, mouth wide open while she spoke on the phone. This is what she wanted.

“Wow. T-thank you so much. That’s-” She ran a hand through her hair, visibly in shock. “Sorry I’m just at a loss for words.” Astrid laughed lightly, Gina doing the same on the other end.

“This is a big and exciting thing, so you have some time. Take the next week to think things over, sort out anything you need to and give me a call by next Friday, okay?” Gina informed Astrid.

“O-okay. Thank you so much Gina.” She stood from her chair, excitement rushing through her.

“You’re welcome, and congratulations on the call up. Have a good one.” She laughed before hanging up. Once the line went dead, Astrid screamed and began jumping up and down, happy tears flowing as her parents engulfed her in a large hug.

“OH MY GOD!!!” Astrid kept jumping, her mum and dad crying and jumping with her. Her parents knew instantly this is what she was made for and they couldn’t be prouder. All her hard work was paying off.

That was 3 months ago, before she instantly called Gina back and accepted the offer, and prepared to head to Sydney for her first of many Matildas camps. When Astrid arrived at CommBank stadium she was so nervous, especially being the only new person for that camp, but she instantly clicked with the younger players, especially Charli and Kyra. Even some of the older players like Mackenzie, Alanna and Caitlin quickly took her under their wing, knowing what it's like in the first camp.

Astrid began training harder than ever and her efforts didn’t go unnoticed by the coaches and the captains of the team. A-league clubs were finally looking into her after hearing about the new arrival, surprised she wasn’t already signed professionally. They all found her accomplishments with the Junior Matildas, and despite yet to make her debut with the national team, from what they saw of training, they were impressed. Astrid had received offers from Sydney FC, Melbourne Victory, Adelaide United and Central Coast United. She was overwhelmed and looked to her teammates for advice before signing with Sydney FC for the remainder of the 2021/2022 season with Courtnee Vine.

Everything was slowly falling into place and Astrid was taking the first steps into becoming a professional footballer.

to be continued...

#auswnt x reader #matildas #auswnt #matildas x reader #kyra cooney cross #charli grant #football #sam kerr #steph catley #caitlin foord #alanna kennedy #mackenzie arnold

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averagewriter-inthedark · 1 year

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Queen of the Halfpipe 🏂 | Jake Seresin Imagine

Takes place before, during, and after the events of TGM

TGM Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Lt. Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x pro snowboarder!reader (romantic), the dagger squad (platonic)

Content Warnings: fluff, profanity, | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 10k

Requested 📨 yes/no—for @gizmodear 🤍 (rules for requests)

Premise: Dedication, determination, blood, sweat, and tears. That’s what athletes put in when they say they want to compete on the world’s greatest sporting stage. Years of hard work that come with sacrifices. At a young age Y/n L/n knew she wanted to be the best when it came to snowboarding, devoting herself to the Olympic dream. Love wasn’t something she thought would happen for her as she was so focused on her career. But, as someone once pointed out to her years after she did in fact find her happily ever after, she was living in her own little Hallmark movie.

Note: ah I’ve finally finished and I’m so happy with how it turned out! @gizmodear I apologize for the long wait (i think you sent this request at the beginning of February) but I hope you like this and I delivered with everything you could’ve imagined 🥹 I really love writing the athlete!reader x dagger squad paring fics so this was so fun to write. I did so much research to be as accurate as I could since I am not familiar with snowboarding. I did watch Chloe Kim in 2018 & 2022 so a lot of what reader accomplishes in this fic was inspired by her so I hope you don’t mind that I did that (except the ending since the 2026 Olympics hasn’t happened yet obviously 😂). Please let me know what you think!

——————————————

“So one last run, huh?”

“One last one,” she confirmed, hoping he couldn’t pick up on the slight sadness in her tone. All good things must come to an end.

“Better make it count,” he encouraged her. “You got this, okay? Don’t think about it-like I always tell you: don’t think, just do. That gold medal is calling your name.”

“I better go claim it then.”

“We’ll be cheering when you do, babe. Go show them who’s the Queen.”

Some people like the heat. Going to the beach and riding the waves of the ocean. Others enjoy the rain. The soothing sound of water hitting the pavement brings comfort to their ears. Then there are those who prefer the cold. Not as popular as the other two. People feel the only way to enjoy it is by staying indoors to sit by the fire and watch the snow fall through the window.

Y/n L/n loved the snow. Having grown up in the mountains of Colorado, she was used to blizzards and snowstorms. But she loved it mostly because of the sports associated with it. You know, the ones millions of people gather across the globe every four years to watch at the Winter Olympic Games. Athletes who’ve spent their entire life working to achieve their dream of glory. People who are not even patriotic rep their colors. Children watching for the first time think, “That’s gonna be me one day.”

That’s how it was for ten year old Y/n Ln watching the 2002 Winter Olympics on the small tv screen in the living room of her home. It was a special year of the Games. Hosted on US soil in Salt Lake City, Utah. Taking place in the months after the country was met with tragedy following the attacks on the World Trade Center in September 2001. Not a dry eye in the stadium or on those watching from home as the flag that flew on Ground Zero was brought into the arena by members of Team USA along with the NYPD & FDNY.

The Olympic torch was passed by members of the 1980 gold medal winning hockey team, coach Mike Eruzione lighting the cauldron. One of the most notable teams in US Olympic history. They were just college students up against the number one team in the world in 1980, which ironically enough, was also on US soil in Lake Placid, New York. Anyone who watched them play could recall the chills they felt when the buzzer counted down to zero with sportscaster Al Micheals yelling, “Do you believe in miracles? YES!” Winning that game didn’t deliver the gold medal, no, it only secured their place in the final match. There they defeated Finland 4-2, shooting themselves into history.

Y/n was familiar with many of the sports she grew to love watching. Her family owned and lived on a ski resort, so the art of skiing and snowboarding came to her at a young age. She was around four years old the first time she went down hill with her father. By the time she was around eight she could do it on her own with little help.

While her parents enjoyed skiing, Y/n was drawn to snowboarding. More specifically, the halfpipe.

At a whopping 11 to 22 feet in the air and slopes between 16 to 18 degrees, the halfpipe brings fast momentum to snowboarders allowing them to perform difficult spins and skills as they pass from wall to wall. For the Olympics, 22 feet was the typical height of the walls.

The first time Y/n attempted to drop in on the halfpipe was at the age of ten. After watching Team USA sweep the medals in the mens and watching Kelly Clark win gold for the women, Y/n was determined to one day stand on the podium and be crowned the queen of the halfpipe. Nerves were present, as they usually are when one tries to do something they’ve never done. With her parents and a snowboarding instructor present, Y/n became the little daredevil she was and tried her best.

Of course she couldn’t be bold and attempt spins and jumps just yet. Surely that would end her career before it could even start. No, instead they would work on getting used to traveling down the slopes first. On top of that Y/n would have to unlock her inner gymnast so she could do the flips when she got air.

Her preteen years were dedicated to training. Homeschooling became a thing. Everyday she was out working tirelessly to the point her legs would ache. Often there would be a bad run where getting up from the snow would take an arm and leg to do. Balancing a social life as a teenager was impossible. Y/n pretty much sold her soul to snowboarding. But that’s what one has to do when they dream of Olympic glory.

By the time Y/n was 15 she was already making a name for herself after joining the U.S Snowboarding Team. She won titles left and right that people were coming to her family's ski resort just to watch her train. A competitor of the Winter X Games at age 16, Y/n secured the gold after her second run in the women’s superpipe final with a score of 83.75. Rumors speculated she was going to go for the 2010 Olympic Trials. Having just turned 18, Y/n was a leading contender for the Games.

But you know how there are always bad runs? Yeah….the Trials seemed to give her that.

Y/n was hoping to be the first woman to land the 1080 in competition since no one had done it before. Men had been doing the trick since 2002, not as difficult as some of the other moves they were keen to do. While practicing Y/n had successfully landed it a handful of times. So once she felt she was confident, she planned to put in her trial runs. Her coach insisted she’d wait, but Y/n was determined.

And unfortunately it was going to cost her.

After failing to land on her 1080 on both attempts, Y/n was left at the bottom of the leaderboard even with the lowest and highest dropped from her scoring. Embarrassed and humiliated, Y/n made no effort to hide how devastated she was. Tears fell from her puffy cheeks, the cold doing nothing to help. She tried to avoid the cameras but they followed her everywhere she went.

“Y/n, what does this mean for you going forward?”

“Are you going to train for Sochi?”

“Can we expect to see you at next year’s Winter X Games?”

Returning home from the trials, Y/n spent the first week watching the footage back to see what went wrong. Her coach of almost ten years was with her, scribbling furiously on the white board the error and how to fix them.

“You opened too late,” he told her, circling the area in bright red where Y/n messed up. It made her glare at the spot. “When you do that you come in contact with the snow much quicker than you want—that’s why you lost your balance and fell. You didn’t give much time to stop the momentum from spinning. You need to hit this mark—,” another red circle appeared just above the marked one, “to land on time on your feet without losing balance.”

“You’re gonna make me run this at least twenty times today huh?”

“You bet your ass I am,” he flicks the cap at her, “Now go get ready—we’ve got work to do!”

And so for the next four years Y/n worked harder than she ever did before leading up to the 2010 trials. She’d been snowboarding almost fifteen years at that point, nearly seven at the competitive level. 1080s were what kept her up at night. One of the most difficult moves in women’s halfpipe, Y/n spent the four years working to perfect it. Kelly Clark, the 2002 Gold medalist and 2010 Bronze medalist, ended up becoming the first woman to land it at the 2011 X Games, Y/n taking second place and becoming the second woman to land it the following year.

“Remember what I told you,” her coach squeezed her shoulders just before her turn at the 2014 Winter Olympic Trials. “Let the snow and air guide you, don’t guide them. Keep steady and eyes open—you’ve trained for this and you can do it, Y/n. Just do what you’ve been doing the last four years.”

Taking the advice sure as hell paid off. When Team USA marched into the dome of the opening ceremonies at the Sochi Winter Olympics, Y/n was amongst the 222 athletes representing the red, white, and blue.

Qualifications were nerve racking, but Y/n put her blood, sweat, and tears into the competition. The 1080 had everyone buzzing since it was to be the first time competed in women’s snowboarding at the Olympics. “Just get on your feet,” she told herself, placing her goggles down as she prepared to drop in. “Don’t think about it too much, just do it.”

“And here is 22-year-old Y/n L/n from Aspen, Colorado gearing up for her first run in the women’s halfpipe qualifications. This has got to be a big moment for Y/n, having missed out on the Olympic team four years ago for Vancouver. Here in Sochi she’s a favorite to make the podium after great runs at the Winter X Games, becoming the second woman to land the 1080–which we’ll see her in a moment. Y/n’s been snowboarding since the age of four—as one does when their family owns a popular ski resort. We’re excited to see what she’s got for us today.”

“For those of you watching at home who are new to competitive snowboarding, here’s how the scoring works. The athletes are given two runs—or attempts to score big by doing tricks between each wall as they go down the slope of the halfpipe. A team of six judges will then determine the scores through amplitude, another word for height, difficulty, variety, execution, and progression. The highest and lowest score are then thrown out and the remaining four are averaged together for that run. The highest of the two runs is what will determine their position on the leaderboard.”

With her first run of 90.00 and second a 86.75, Y/n advanced to the semifinals along with Kaitlyn Farrington, and Hannah Teter. Kelly Clark secured her place in the finals as the top qualifying score after qualifications. During the semifinals Y/n brought in a 92.50 and 93.50. Her coach was jumping up and down, her parents screaming and Y/n ran over to them when the results came in.

She was heading to the finals.

A silver lining moment was what she was met with after claiming a score of 91.00 following her two runs. Team USA sweeping the podium: Kaitlyn with the gold, Y/n taking silver, and Kelly the bronze.

At the press junket following the podium ceremony, Y/n could not stop smiling. Even when she was asked the question, “How does it feel to be wearing the silver medal after what happened at the trials four years ago?”

“It feels amazing as you can imagine,” chuckles erupt from all sides. “I try to erase the 2010 trials from my memory, but ultimately that is what made me determined to work so hard these last four years. Being able to represent Team USA and bringing home the silver medal alongside my teammates Kaitlyn and Kelly, who I’ve admired my entire career—and watching Kelly win gold in 2002 is what kickstarted my dream of going to the Olympics…” Y/n pauses, grin growing wider, “It’s truly an honor. I-I’m still coming down from the high of it all.”

“Y/n over here!” The athlete points to a lady, who proceeds to stand from her chair to ask, “I know you’re going to be asked this a lot so let me be the first to, are we going to see you in four years for Pyeongchang?”

Biting her lip, Y/n gave a shrug though her smile remained, “I’m gonna train so the hope is you will see me in 2018, but you never know in sports. Anything can happen. For now I’m gonna celebrate with my coach and my family who traveled all the way from the States with me and then get back to the snow when I get home.”

When one already has established themself as a name in their sport, with an Olympic medal, several national and world titles under their belt, then going bigger is to be expected. Higher difficulty in tricks, more air and speed, fighting with gravity to not fall on your ass. Y/n felt the pressure.

“You want me to do back-to-back 1080s?” She nearly dropped her granola bar, staring at her coach dumbfounded.

“You can do it,” he said as if it were obvious. “You’ve been getting so much momentum on the landing that you’re getting massive height on your 720. You can easily go for the 1080 on that.”

It seemed tricky, but Y/n wasn’t one to say no to a challenge. “Fuck it, let’s do it.”

The first time resulted in a face plant in the snow. The second time she lost balance and skidded the rest of the slope on her ass. Finally on the third attempt she managed to catch her feet, exclaiming “Holy shit! I did it!” Off to the side her coach was fist pumping, in a heap of joy for the athlete. Never had anyone successfully landed a back-to-back 1080. But Y/n did in a fucking practice run. “Pyeongchang, here I come!”

When Y/n landed the movements at the 2018 Olympic trials, she was the highlight of the competition.

“The 2014 silver medalist in this event, Y/n L/n dropping in. Great start—setting up for her 1080….beautiful landing—she’s been working hard to perfect and—-OH! Oh my gosh she just did another one!! Did we just witness what I think we did? Holy moly folks I don’t believe it—Y/n L/n has just done the impossible with back-to-back 1080s in a single run!! That’s gonna have a massive score I can already tell.”

Adrenaline was pumping through her veins like never before when Y/n came down from the slope after her final move. Giggling like a maniac, her hands covered her mouth as the crowd roared around her. Her coach was going crazy, as were her friends and family who came out to support. A score of 95.00 sent the audience into a frenzy. And even with her second run, there was no doubt in anyone's mind.

Y/n was heading for Pyeongchang.

“It was a successful Olympic Trials this past week with 241 athletes from across the country qualifying for Team USA in the upcoming Winter Olympics in Pyeongchang, South Korea. Team USA will be competing in 15 sports, with many returning to the stage—including two time gold-medalist in the Men’s halfpipe, Shaun White, and 2010 Olympic champion of the women’s downhill in skiing, Lindsey Vonn. The women’s hockey team is looking to return to glory after not having won the gold since Nagano in 1998–the team claiming either silver or bronze in the past Games. There’s been a lot of excitement among supporters for returning Olympian Y/n L/n, who will be competing in the women’s halfpipe once again—L/n was the 2014 silver medalist in the event and became the talk of the trials when she completed back-to-back 1080s in her first run of the final competition, securing her place on Team USA with a massive score of 95.00. L/n has stated she will be attempting the 1080 duo at these Games. If she can pull out a score like she did at the trials of even higher, we could be looking at a new Queen of the Halfpipe.”

For the Games in Pyeongchang, each competitor would do two runs in qualifications and those who make it to the final will get three chances to produce a big score. It was smooth sailing to the finals for Y/n. Both runs received a score of 90.00, making her the top qualifier and securing one of twelve spots in the final.

February 13, 2018 was the best day of Y/n’s life.

It was a beautiful morning in South Korea. Sun beaming down with clear skies making the snow sparkle. Y/n was the last contestant in each rotation, spending the time in between her runs to keep her mind at ease. The playlist she made was blasting through the headphones she wore, a mix of genres that included artists like AC/DC, One Direction, and Beyoncé. Sometimes the cameramen would catch a glimpse of her dancing while mouthing the words to the songs, making viewers at home and the NBC commentators chuckle. Throughout the competition people were tweeting about the athlete:

@ sassycassie: @Y/nlikesthesnow is such a mood at the @Olympics. I wonder what’s on her playlist.

@TeamUSA✔️: we’re all jamming with @Y/nlikesthesnow.

@Marvelicious: Petition for the @Olympics to include music in the halfpipe from here on out.

When it came time for her run, Y/n rolled her neck, said a mental prayer, and dropped in once she was given the green light. Her heart was racing by the time she finished her first run, which did not get a good score due to falling on her second 1080. A rocky start to her competition, the number came back a 41.00.

Quickly the athlete brushed it off. “There’s still two more,” she told herself, approaching her coach who voiced the same thing. Two more chances to score big. All she needed to do was land the 1080s and get high altitude on her 720 and backside 900. Once that happened the gold medal was practically hers.

And she did just that.

On her second run, Y/n delivered what everyone was on the edge of their seats for. She screamed in victory going into her 720 because she had landed the second 1080 perfectly. Letting the remainder of the slopes guide her, Y/n finished her run with a beautiful 900 and shot her arms into the air, the people in the audience cheering. When she crossed the line she fell to her knees, board still attached to her feet and let out a cry of joy.

“Wow, wow, wow! That was absolutely incredible! She completed the back-to-back 1080s—I know we already saw it in the qualifications, but seeing it today was even better—and that 900 was massive, she could’ve thrown in a third! Look at Y/n, she’s taking it all in—the fans are going crazy, Team USA are already celebrating. And we still have one more run left! Remember the judges drop the highest and lowest scores and it looks like it’s gonna be……A 98.75!!! THAT IS HUGE—THE HIGHEST WE’VE SEEN YET!!”

Y/n was doing her best not to cry when her coach and parents hauled her into a group hug. There was still one more run to do, but it would be her victory lap no doubt. No way would anyone be able to touch her score.

Smiling the entire time, Y/n was effortless in her final attempt. One couldn’t even call it an attempt when she was already the gold medalist. The remaining competitors had already gone, none close to the number she produced in the second run. Tears finally flowed when she finished her 900, coming to the end of the slope and unclamping her board before dropping to the snow. The sound of the cheers was so loud she could feel the vibration.

Cameramen surrounded the athlete. Feeling giddy she made a snow angel, laughing the entire time.

When the score came back a 93.50, Y/n was officially named the Olympic champion of the women’s halfpipe. She wasn’t the only member from Team USA on the podium, Arielle Gold claimed the bronze, pushing out 2002 Gold Medalist Kelly Clark by nearly two full points. Liu Jiayu was the silver medalist.

At the podium ceremony Y/n felt like she was in a dream. Even when the announcer said, “Gold medalist and Olympic Champion, from the United States of America, Y/n L/n!!” With the medal placed around her neck and the sound of the national anthem echoing for all ears to hear, Y/n thought she’d wake up in her bed and it would have all been a dream.

But it was far from a dream. The press conference assured that. Reporters and journalists from sports magazines and media swarmed the place, Y/n more nervous about answering their questions than performing tricks in the air that were life threatening if landed wrong. Several questions were to be expected:

“Y/n, how are you feeling after your big win today?”

“Can you tell us anything about your plans when these Games come to an end?”

“Is it true you and actor Dylan O’Brien have been getting rather close?”

“Y/n, are you going to train for Beijing in four years?”

Exhausted and in need of food, Y/n kept her answers simple and minimum. “I feel like I could run a marathon—but mostly I could use some snacks. Oh thank you so much—,” A volunteer brought over an apple they had, and a reporter gave some crackers. “I feel even better now, thank you.”

“Well for one I’m gonna sleep at least a whole week,” chuckles rang out. “Then I’m gonna go see Black Panther since it comes out in three days—anybody gonna go see it? The trailer looked amazing.”

At the question of Dylan O’Brien, Y/n refrained from making a face, “Dylan is a good friend of mine—we met at the 2015 ESPY’s and he’s been to my family’s resort. Not to mention I was a fan of Teen Wolf when it was running. There’s nothing more going on, he’s a great buddy of mine and that’s all.” Internally groaning, Y/n could already picture the internet reacting to her answer. No doubt would they start shipping the two. Dylan would likely get a kick out of it, but like she said they were just good friends.

Responding on the topic of Beijing, Y/n said, “I’m very lucky to call myself a two-time Olympian and would love to continue my Olympic career so yes, I do plan to train for the next Games.”

The rest of 2018 was memorable for Y/n. She was invited to award shows and movie premieres, including Avengers: Infinity War, The Maze Runner: The Death Cure (which only fueled more speculation about her and Dylan) and Spider-Man: Into The SpiderVerse. She even filmed a cameo in the upcoming remake of Charlie’s Angels with fellow athletes Aly Raisman, Rhonda Rousey, and Danica Patrick. At the 2018 ESPY’s, Y/n was nominated for four awards: Best Olympic Moment, Best Female Olympian, Best Female Athlete and Best Female Action Sports Athlete. She took the latter three, in disbelief each time her name was called.

Her personality drew people in and many young girls were interested in snowboarding because of her. Within weeks she accumulated 500 thousand followers on instagram. People begged her to start a YouTube channel, wanting to follow the journey as she trains for Beijing.

“Hello friends of the interweb,” she waved to the lens of her camera. “You’ve been shouting from the rooftops and I’ve heard you loud and clear. Today is my first attempt at…vlogging? Is that what you call it?” Shrugging, she starts to walk down the hallway of her home. At age 26, Y/n moved out of her parents home shortly after her first Olympics—-having went pro—and bought a cabin on the resort so she could remain close with her family and coach. Plus it was where she trained—a nice little plaque on the entrance of the resort reading, “Home of Olympic Champion Y/n L/n.”

Fans loved seeing a more in-depth look at the Olympian. Y/n would do Q&As, give snowboarding 101 lessons, collaborate with Olympians from other sports she grew to become close friends with, and do daily vlogs of training.

“Hi, I’m Y/n L/n,” she smiled at the camera from where she was sitting, a pale pink background behind her. “And I’m here with Buzzfeed where I’m gonna be answering some questions while playing with puppies.” Clapping her hands excitedly, she grinned, “Let’s do this!”

“Was Snowboarding always your first choice when it came to sports?”

“Yes it was,” there was a tiny bulldog in her lap, drifting off to sleep while an excited lab pup was trying to chew at Y/n’s shoes. “When your family owns a ski resort in the mountains of Colorado, usually snowboarding or skiing is going to be the first sport you’re introduced to. In my case it was just like that and while my parents were more for skiing, I loved snowboarding because it was like surfing….but on snow.”

“Where would you be if you weren’t a professional athlete?”

“You know I haven’t really thought about this,” she makes a face that reads, ‘is that bad?’. “I’ve always loved animals so….probably a vet or a career that involved animals. Since I’ve started my YouTube channel I’ve grown to love creating videos and editing them—that whole process. I would not go as far as to say I’d be an Internet personality but I would maybe use those skills to go into film work. But in all honesty, I’d probably be running the resort with my parents. It’s the family business after all.”

“Do you have any tattoos?”

“I do,” flashing her forearm, the Olympic Rings inked her skin with tiny lettering that read, Sochi and Pyeongchang. “I got the rings shortly after returning from Sochi—already set on where it was going to go. The names were done after Pyeongchang. I have other tattoos on my legs and back, but this one is my favorite because it represents the dream I achieved.”

“Have you ever been in love?”

“Ooh we’re getting to the hard questions now,” she laughed, grabbing a puppy that was tugging on her sleeve to hold. “Ummm…..not really. While I’ve been in relationships I don’t think any has made me feel what love is supposed to be like. It’s probably why they didn’t work out,” again she makes a face. “I had a genuine care for them, but there’s a certain way people describe being ‘in love.’ And from what I’ve heard, none of my experiences would be like that. I hope that doesn't make me sound heartless,” Y/n shrugs, not embarrassed at all by being honest. “I got too much going on right now to be worrying about love though. When the time comes, it will.”

Well she was right on that. However she wasn’t expecting it to be sooner than what she thought.

Around December of 2019, Y/n had returned to Colorado after being in New York for a couple weeks for a friend’s wedding. Since becoming a bigger name in the world of snowboarding and in popular culture, the resort got more attraction throughout the year where bookings were full. During this time Y/n would help run things to get some stress from her parents. She’d train early mornings and late at night, leaving the middle of the day to assist in any way she could. Regulars who’d been coming before she was an Olympian would treat her the same, whereas tourists coming for the first time were usually starstruck.

Y/n loved interacting with supporters. Every smile she received and autograph she sighed was met with love. Kids would ask questions, the Olympian kneeling to their level to answer with full transparency. Adults would shake her hand and say they can’t wait to hopefully see her in Beijing. Those moments are what motivated Y/n to do her best with each session.

“Y/n, could you come here for a second?” her mother called out one night after Y/n finished her final run for the day. She’d just entered the lobby to say hi to her parents before heading back home when she spotted them with a group of people. One of whom looked very familiar.

Removing her scarf from face and pulling the hood down, Y/n was met with several pairs of eyes that immediately went wide. She could imagine why, considering there was a huge photo of her with the gold medal framed on the wall dedicated to the gallery of famous visitors the resort had.

Moving closer, she noticed that the group consisted of about eight people, seven of which were guys and one lady. The older gentleman who appeared to be roughly her father’s age was beaming at her. Quickly he was introduced by her mother.

“Y/n, I don’t if you remember since it’s been so long, but this is Pete Mitchell. He and your dad go way back and he’s visited a few times since we took over this place.”

Now the face brought memories with the mention of his name. Grinning, Y/n shook the hand that was extended to her, “Yeah, I remember. Maverick, right?”

“That’s right,” he smiled. “Wow, it’s great to see you again. Congrats on everything you’ve accomplished, Y/n. I’ve been watching you compete since your first trials.”

“Thank you,” she tries not to look flustered. “Sorry for looking so busted—I just finished a run and was not expecting a reunion so soon.” The words have the older adults chuckling. Glancing behind Pete’s shoulder, Y/n nodded to his companions, which had the pilot scurry to introduce them.

Pointing to each person, he lists off, “these are my lieutenants and members of my Top Gun striker team. Bradley Bradshaw, Natasha Trace, Robert Floyd, Mickey Garcia, Reuben Fitch, Javy Machado, and Jake Seresin.”

As he calls their names they each go to shake Y/n’s hand, saying, “nice to meet you.” When she gets to the last person, Jake, Y/n feels a light spark as their skin touches, making both of them flinch.

“Pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” the tinge of a southern accent nearly makes her knees go weak, a dazzling smile to compliment the pilot.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” she returns before moving back to stand beside her parents. “Thank you all for your service. What brings you to Aspen?”

“Well we’ve seen enough of the beach and ocean—now that we’re all stationed in Miramar—and thought we’d like a scene change,” Pete explained, gesturing to her parents. “I called your folks up after our assignment to book us a getaway since these guys were in need of a break. We’re here for the weekend to hit the slopes—and teach some of them how to ski.”

“Fun,” she hums, glancing to see some nervous eyes among Bob, Javy, Mickey, and Jake. When she caught Jake’s gaze he smiled at her, making her look away before she blushed. “Who all knows how to ski?”

“Reuben, Nat, and I do,” Rooster answered, “this is the first time those clowns are seeing snow.”

“I’ll have you know, Bradshaw,” Jake lifts a hand, giving a mocking glare. “I have seen snow, but seeing as I am a Texas man we don’t get it down there.”

“I get snow where I’m from,” Bob interjects, blushing a bit, “But I was the type to stay indoors when it did. I’ve never skied though.”

“Well there is a first for everything,” Y/n beams, “and once you get the hang of it, it’s pretty easy. Although I’m probably not the best judge…..since I pretty much live on the snow.”

“I personally wanna try snowboarding,” Nat admits, smiling when Y/n gives her a thumbs up and mouths, “good choice.”

“I’ll do it if you do it,” Mickey says and the two high five.

“Maybe Y/n can give you some pointers” Y/n’s dad suggested, glancing at her with a tilt of the head. “She’d be the best teacher here.” The Olympian smiles, offering a light shrug.

“I wouldn’t mind.”

Mickey and Nat nearly turned into school children right there, but where Nat was calm on the exterior, Mickey was unleashing his inner fanboy.

“If it’s not out of your way—.”

“Oh my God, to be trained by an Olympic gold medalist? Life goal complete.”

Y/n couldn’t help but giggle at the man, “That settles it then. I hope to see you on the slopes first thing tomorrow morning. How does ten sound?”

“Shit that means we get to sleep in,” Reuben said in relief, the others making the same expression. At Y/n’s confusion he adds, “we normally all get up at four in the morning. Ten o’clock is a dream.”

“I know what you mean—I get up at five for training. So I would definitely want you all to get a good night’s rest. Hours on the slopes will have you running to your bed,” checking her watch, Y/n lets out a yawn, chuckling when she finishes. “Speaking of running to bed, I am beat if you haven’t noticed.” She goes to shake their hand once more, “It was so nice meeting you all and I look forward to tomorrow. Pete, it was great seeing you again.”

Saying goodbye to the group and her parents, Y/n waves one last time and heads to the door. The entire short drive to her home, her mind wanders to Jake. A warm feeling she couldn’t describe boiled in her chest, not sure if it was a little crush or just that she was attracted to him. With his green eyes, sun kissed skin, blonde hair, and dazzling smile, the man was a looker. She definitely could see him being a charmer, maybe even a playboy.

She didn’t want to think about that possibility.

Compared to her snowboarding career, relationships were something Y/n didn’t have the best record with. Yeah she dated, shared a kiss or two with someone she was interested in, but she never saw someone more than five to six months. It wasn’t easy to balance time and energy for a partner. Snowboarding was her life and she permanently lived in Colorado. She stopped dating people in Aspen because they usually were driven by what Y/n could bring them. Relationships with fellow athletes were more difficult since they were dedicated to their sport just like she was to hers. The one time she did get involved with an athlete lasted less than two weeks.

Then you had the people in Hollywood. Since winning the silver in 2014, Y/n made plenty of friends in the film and movie industry. Anytime she was pictured with someone it sparked rumors. Even when they were with a group of friends it didn’t stop the gossip. Y/n did, however, get involved with an actor that was a friend of Dylan O’Brien. He introduced them at the 2017 Teen Choice Awards where they hit it off. It only lasted five months but it was enough to get the internet buzzing with excitement.

Since then Y/n hadn’t been serious with someone, focusing solely on training for the Beijing Olympics. As the defending Olympic champion in the halfpipe Y/n was determined to defend her title. There wouldn’t be any time for romance.

But that weekend left Y/n with a newfound feeling. One she wanted to keep the more she got to know Jake. Each night he was at the resort they’d meet at the lounge to have a drink, sometimes with a group, or by themselves. They’d catch each other in the mornings to get coffee, Y/n feeling the giddiness rise each time with every conversation. The boys caught on quickly what was happening, going as far to joke with Y/n about his history with women.

Her confidence dropped a bit, but Jake shut it down instantly, “I haven’t been with anyone in about a year. And I wouldn’t want something with you to be one and done, Y/n. I want to get to know you better and see where this goes.”

“Jake, how would this even work?” The two were sitting on one of the lounge couches the night before he was set to return to California. It was a good point to bring up. With him being in San Diego and her in Aspen, it would be difficult. “I like you and have enjoyed our time this weekend—a-and I’d love to see where this goes….but being with me isn’t easy.”

“Why’s that?” He asked, oblivious to her concern.

She gives him a knowing look, “Well first there’s the distance like I mentioned. But also I’m in a career where I prioritize that more than anything. I have to go out of the country for competitions several times a year,” her hand makes a motion to show emphasis. “This is where I train—and I don’t see myself leaving anytime soon. My goal is to make it to the Olympics again.”

Jake is quiet for a moment. It worries Y/n, thinking that he was going to get up and leave without another word. But then he gently places a hand on top of hers that was resting on her lap, “I admire and respect you for being honest with me. Not many people are like that—hell, Lord knows I wasn’t five years ago. But even though it may be difficult, I don’t want to avoid it just because of the ‘what if’s’. So it doesn’t work out, that’s okay, but I’d like to at least try.”

Biting her lip, she looks at their hands, “You sure?”

“I’m sure,” he smiles, “plus it gives me a reason to continue coming out here. I think I’ve fallen in love with this place,” glancing around the building, his smile gets bigger at the sight of the sun setting making the mountains look beautiful from where they were. “Being from Texas, we don’t get this type of scenery. I thought I wouldn’t like the snow but it seems to have grown on me in the few short days.”

“Well, Lieutenant, you’re gonna have to get used to it if you roll with me.”

“I think I can adapt well, darling.”

When the squad left the next morning, a little piece of Yn’s heart left with Jake. She didn’t believe in love at first sight but there was no denying the feelings swarming like butterflies each time they were together. FaceTimes became their thing. Usually a couple times a week with casual texting since both had busy lives. Jake then flew out a couple weeks later to spend New Year’s with Y/n, the two sharing their first kiss that sparked like the fireworks in the sky.

Y/n traveled to San Diego in February with Jake returning to Aspen in March. What was supposed to just be a weekend turned out to be Jake having to stay for nearly three months due to the world shutting down. The pandemic was something no one could’ve predicted. Both Y/n and Jake had to scramble to figure out what to do, her parents offering him a cabin to reside in since they had to close down the resort. The competitions Y/n was set to compete in were canceled, Jake having to work remotely with meetings through zoom. There was no indication if he’d have to return to San Diego and frankly he didn’t know how he would since airlines were shut down.

It was a blessing in disguise, however, because it brought the two closer. Jake and Y/n were able to do things together despite being confined to the resort. Since it was only them, her parents, and her coach on the premises, Y/n was able to still train and even taught Jake how to snowboard downhill. He told her about his career and what it was like being in the air competing against the speed of sound.

“It’s an adrenaline rush most of the time,” He explained one night as they laid by the fire, a random movie on the Tv mounted above the mantle. “You can probably relate when you do your runs. Not being able to really think and just let your body take over. Feeling a high that’s indescribable and praying it will end how you think it will.”

In the mornings Y/n would drop off breakfast and coffee to his cabin on her way to training. After his meetings he’d bring her lunch or dinner since she was practicing most hours in the day. The 2020 season was canceled, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t prepare for 2021. Athletes training for the Summer Olympics would have to wait a whole year, meanwhile the plans for the Winter Olympics in 2022 remained. Speculations already arose that by the next spring things would slowly go back to normal with the implementation of a vaccine. Jake returned to San Diego as soon as the green light was lit, mostly because the Navy was ordering him to. Airlines only allowed certain people to fly with regulations set to accommodate social distancing. It was a bittersweet goodbye for the couple, Jake promising to return as soon as he could.

Their relationship continued to be long distance for a long time. San Diego locked down several times preventing either from traveling to see each other. Y/n kept busy by training from sunrise to sunset, Jake running missions the Pentagon tasks the Dagger squad with and the two FaceTimed consistently. Luckily by spring of 2021 things did in fact calm down. A vaccine was introduced, both wasting no time to receive it, and making plans for Y/n to fly out to San Diego.

When she landed she was met with the clear skies and warm rays of the sun, catapulting into Jake’s awaiting arms after exiting the terminal. “I missed you so much!” She giggled as he spun her around.

“I missed you more, darling.”

Everyone welcomed her with smiles, the pilots excited to see Y/n again after so long. They took her to The Hard Deck to celebrate her and Jake’s one year anniversary and for her qualification in the 2021 Winter X Games.

“Excited to get back in the pipe, Y/n/n?” Reuben asked her.

“You bet your ass I am,” she clicks her beer glass with his. “Can’t wait for the world to see what I’ve been practicing.”

The squad cheered on Y/n from Fightertown during the Winter X Games, watching her claim the gold of the women’s Superpipe for the sixth time. Jake was the loudest, his reaction to her win captured by Rooster, “That’s my girl!!”

Flash forward to January 2022. The team rang the year in, Y/n joining festivities where she and Jake celebrated their third New Year’s before they all traveled North to Mammoth to watch Y/n compete in the Mammoth Grand Prix. The first completion of the year, it would be where the Beijing Olympic Team members were named.

By the end of the competition, Y/n was going to have to set an appointment with her tattoo artist to add Beijing to the list of Games.

“YEAHH!!!” The scream released, arms shot into the air as her name shot to the top of the leaderboard following her second run, the score a 96.00. On the ground Jake, her coach, parents, and friends were losing their minds. Rightfully so, they just witnessed Y/n make her third Olympic team.

“And there you have it folks, the defending Olympic champion in the halfpipe is heading to Beijing in her third Olympic appearance. Y/n L/n has shown greatness this whole weekend, proving herself as one of the best in the sport. There’s been so much improvement in her form—the Winter X Games this past year was the last time we’d seen her since the pandemic shut everything down, but that didn’t stop Y/n from getting ready for Beijing. She is unstoppable. It'll be an exciting Games next month, not just for the women’s competition—Shaun White will return to the stage for the fifth time in an attempt to defend his gold model.”

A celebratory party was in store for the Olympian. Champagne was popped and music blasting in the restaurant the members of Team USA rented together. All their friends and family were there having a grand time. Y/n and Shaun got pictures together, the internet calling them the king and queen of the halfpipe. Pretty much all of the dagger squad, minus Jake of course, were chatting up with the Olympians—Bob received a thumbs up from Y/n when she spotted him talking with Mikayla Shiffrin.

Halfway through the night, Jake pulled her aside, “How you feeling?”

“Good,” she breathed, still coming down from the high of excitement. “Excited, nervous, internally dreading the long flight but overall I’m happy.”

“I’m happy for you, darling,” he kissed her head, “You deserve this. After watching you bust your tail these past two years, I can’t describe how proud I am of you.”

Y/n felt a wave of love course threw her, kissing him softly as a thanks. When they pulled away Jake asked what was next to which she replied, “What do you mean?”

“Well…I hear Italy is hosting in four years.” She made a sound of ‘Ahh,’

“That’s what you mean.”

Jake quickly explains, “I just wanted to know if that’s in your sights. You’re gonna get asked plenty next month, so see it as me wanting to be the first to know……and because I’m already planning on being there if you do.” Unfortunately due to covid restrictions, Jake and her family are unable to attend the Games in person. Only her coach was allowed to travel with Y/n, meaning everyone else would have to cheer from home.

Italy wasn’t even on Y/n’s mind. After a career of over fifteen years and having celebrated her 30th birthday, the next chapter was something she thought about often. Jake was her longest relationship, the two at two years and Y/n fell more and more in love with him each day. While the long distance was going well, it would only be a matter of time before one of them would want to settle. Marriage. Children.

Going for a fourth Games was possible—look at Shaun. Beijing was his fifth Games, and Kelly Clark competed in five.

“Confident you’ll be around by then? 2026 is a long way from here,” teasing at first, Y/n felt her heart skip by the look she received. It was one of love, determination, and admiration.

“I’m confident in a lot of things, Y/n. And when it comes to us,” two fingertips come up to hold her chin steady, green eyes boring into hers. “I see a cabin with a front porch and gorgeous sunrise over the mountains as we drink coffee and reminisce over our glory days before the little ones left the nest. That’s what I see when I look at you.”

February 2026–Livigno, Italy: Final of the Women’s Halfpipe in the XXV Olympic Winter Games.

“So one last run, huh?” Jake squeezes Y/n’s hand, easing her nerves as she feels the metal of his wedding band on her skin. She had yet to put her gloves on, waiting for someone to escort her to the top of the slope.

“One last one,” her tone was laced with sadness, not doing much to mask her anxiety. She was one run away from winning a third conservative gold medal. Beijing was already four years ago, Y/n adding a second gold to her collection to retain her title as queen of the halfpipe. She was met with international recognition following the Games. Her performance in Beijing resulted in the first 100.00 scored in the Olympics.

On the cover of Sports Illustrated and winning big at the 2022 ESPY’s, Y/n was on top of the world. Appearances on James Corden and The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon Y/n not only showcased her gold medal, but a diamond ring on her finger where she told the world her love story with Jake.

“Hi, I’m Y/n L/n,” she waved at the camera, a MacBook in front of her and trying not to laugh at where Jake was sitting in his own chair beside the producer of GQ, videoing her with his phone. “Two-time Olympic gold medalist in the women’s halfpipe and I’m here with GQ, about to go undercover on the internet.” Opening the laptop, she shakes her head with a nervous grin. “This is gonna be interesting.”

Ironically enough, she chose the username Y/ndoesntlikethesnow. “I’m sorta scared at what Twitter and Reddit will bring. Just because….,” she makes a face, “I go on the bird app religiously so I know what that’s like, but also I’ve heard horror stories about Reddit.”

“I wanna know how @Y/nlikesthesnow managed to get up after planting face first in the snow at her first Olympic trials. On live television. If that was me I would’ve retired right then and there.”

The laugh that escaped Y/n was equivalent to a wheeze, sending Jake into his own laughter. Calming down, Y/n had to wipe her eye, “oh my goodness what a great start. Okay,” her fingers hovered over the keys, typing away with each word she spoke. “Thank you for bringing this memory up—it was truly a defining moment in my career I would say. Not only did it humble me, but had it not happened I probably wouldn’t have busted my butt as much as I did to get to Sochi. So it’s kinda sentimental now….though I do die inside each time someone tags me when they use the gif.”

Clicking send, Y/n clapped, “next!”

“Does Y/n L/n and her fiancé know they basically lived in a Hallmark movie? Guy comes to a small town and meets a local girl who’s family runs a ski resort and they fall in love in just a few short weeks. I think about that a lot.”

Both Y/n and Jake make a snort, “Jake is here with me now,” she points to though he can’t be seen. “We both love this question. And to answer it, you know it never crossed our mind that this was happening, but if Hallmark would like some inspiration for their next movie we’d be happy to give some.”

The wedding took place in fall of 2023. Shortly after Y/n made the decision to move to San Diego to be with Jake, finding an indoor halfpipe training facility to train in. She continued to dominate the 2023-2025 seasons. By the time she made her fourth Olympic team, Y/n became the most decorated female snowboarder in Winter X Games history and won the Mammoth Grand Prix for the sixth consecutive time.

Now in Italy for her final Olympic appearance, the pressure was on.

Currently Y/n was in last position, shocking many as she had multiple errors in her first two after being the number one qualifier. Eight years ago in Pyeongchang, her friend and former teammate Shaun White stunned the world when he went from the bottom to the top of the leaderboard in the final rotation of the men’s final, claiming his third gold medal.

People were itching to know if the same would happen to Y/n. Commentators and twitter alike saying it was deja vu happening.

Only Jake, the squad, her coach and family were the ones to know she would be retiring. Her last run marking the end of an era in snowboarding. With her first two a disaster, Y/n wanted to end on a high note.

“Better make it count,” Jake told her, cupping her face in his hands to stare deeply into her eyes. “You got this, okay? Don’t think about i-t-like I always tell you: don’t think, just do.” Kissing her forehead, he adds, “That gold medal is calling your name.”

Confidence filled her, Y/n lifting her chin high to show her determination. “I better go claim it then.”

Jake mirrored her grin, winking just as the volunteer was calling her name. “We’ll be cheering when you do, babe. Go show them who’s the Queen.” Giving one last kiss of support, Jake says goodbye to his wife, “I love you.”

“I love you,” she returns and he watches her leave before heading to the area where the others were waiting for him.

“How is she?” Javy asks him, adjusting the lapels of his coat. It was a cold but beautiful day in Italy. Perfect for snowboarding.

“I can tell she’s worried,” Jake takes out his binoculars, setting up to see Y/n take her place. “But she’ll pull through. She always does.”

“Welcome back to our coverage of the women’s halfpipe final here in Livigno, Italy. Y/n L/n, the defending two-time gold medalist is about to take her final run in this competition.” The title card appeared on the screen for viewers watching at home, reading: “Y/n L/n-Seresin—Gold Medalist: 2018 & 2022, Silver Medalist: 2014–Hometown: Aspen, Colorado, USA.

“It’s been a rocky day for L/n—failing to produce a big score on her first two attempts: 39.00 in the first and 49.00. She’s got one more chance to beat the 92.25 and is currently in last position. If you can think back to 2018 Shaun White was in the same position, managing to come back in his final run to take the gold. In just a few moments we shall see if Y/n can do the same.”

It’s said that your heart beats on average 60 to 100 beats per minute. That’s a normal heart rate. Throw in emotions such as anxiety and you’ll find it increasing. If a doctor were to place a stethoscope over Y/n’s chest as she secured the clasps of her snowboard, pulling the goggles over her eyes, they’d find the number of her bpm to be at least 110 maybe even 120.

“Don’t think,” Jake’s voice echoed in her head, bringing a sense of calmness. “Just do.”

“Don’t think,” she repeated under her breath. “Just do.” Maneuvering her board once she was giving the go, Y/n starts her decline into the halfpipe, dropping in one last time. Unlike her previous runs where she focused too hard that led to the mistakes, Y/n moved effortlessly like the board was in control. Back-to-back 1080s, her signature move. Getting high in the air she spun. Backside 900 and frontside 700. Opening at the right moment to hit the snow correctly and set up for the next trick. Showing off her talent as one of the greatest athletes of her generation.

Thinking back to her first time her feet touched a board, Y/n felt the nostalgia in her veins. It was comforting, masking the nerves it soon replaced. She was in her element. Picturing the mountains of Aspen and the snow she grew up on.

She could hear the crowd getting louder with each move. It fueled her, pushing the Olympian to get higher in the air, spin faster, and land perfectly. When she came down on her 1260, a difficult move usually seen in the men’s competition, Y/n felt her heart stop as she hit the snow.

It was a golden finish.

A roar ignited from the crowd, Y/n’s hands flying to her mouth, making her final descent down the pipe across the line and falling to her knees like she did back in 2018. It was so loud she could barely hear her own thoughts, audibly shouting, “Oh my God!” Desperately searching for her husband, she found Jake jumping up and down with the squad, screaming like their lives depended on it.

Tears rolled down her cheeks, Y/n throwing off her goggles and unclamping her board from her feet to run towards them. The fucking aviator broke the rules and hauled is ass over the barrier to meet her in the middle, catching Y/n when she jumped into his arms. “You fucking did it!!! You did it!!”

Suddenly their little hug was interrupted by her coach, parents, the squad and members of Team USA joining in. The score hadn’t even come in, but it didn’t matter. Y/n just pulled the comeback of the decade. Going from the bottom to the top in the blink of the eye.

“All eyes on Y/n—here she goes dropping in. Good start on the grip to gain momentum as she sets up her first trick. Here’s her signature move as we’ve seen time and time again…two 1080s often called ‘the cork’ and she’s had trouble all day with this—well no problems right there that was beautiful. Now with the backside 900….looking good—if she maintains this then the gold medal is hers. It’s gonna be that last trick, the McTwist, that could make or break this run…..no problems on that frontside 700. All there’s left is the 1260–very difficult we don’t see it in women’s halfpipe but Y/n is determined to land it—can she do it for the gold medal…..AND SHE’S GOT IT!! She landed it—oh my goodness that was incredible! That’s gotta be enough—there’s no doubt in my mind, Y/n L/n has just won her third consecutive gold in the women’s halfpipe after being in last place for two rotations—putting on a show stopping performance in the final run.”

“She knows it too. Members of Team USA and Y/n’s support team including her coach and husband are celebrating with her. She needs higher than a 92.25 to take the lead—will it be enough? It has to be…..A 99.75 SHE’S DONE IT! A QUARTER OF A POINT AWAY FROM PERFECTION, Y/N L/N HAS WON HER THIRD GOLD MEDAL IN THE WOMEN’S HALFPIPE HERE IN ITALY. THE QUEEN OF THE HALFPIPE REMAINS ON THE THRONE.”

Y/n’s lifted onto Jake’s shoulders when the score comes into the uproar of cheers around her. American flags wave in her face, a sea of red, white, and blue against the glistening snow. It was a scene she would remember in the years to come following her retirement from snowboarding.

The Olympic Rings staring back at her along with the American Flag rising to the sound of the national anthem. Gold around her neck, the heaviness leaving a lasting mark as it would be the last time she would be crowned the Olympic champion. Jake clapping with tears streaming down his face as she waved to him in the crowd. Her parents crying with him, the guys and Nat are whistling and jumping up and down. Pete in a side embrace with her coach and former teammates beaming like they were witnessing history.

In fact it was history. Y/n became the first woman to win the gold in three consecutive Olympic Games. From a little girl with a love of snowboarding who missed out in her first trials. To become a silver medalist and most decorated Winter X Games title holder. To a three-time Olympic champion.

She truly was the queen of the halfpipe.

………….

TGM tag list: @avaleineandafryingpan @caitsymichelle13 @poppyalice2001 @cutelittlepotatofry @luckyladycreator2 @americaarse @elenavampire21 @back-tooo-black

#Spotify #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin x you #jake seresin #jake hangman x reader #hangman fanfiction #jake hangman seresin #hangman imagine #athlete!reader #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #tgm imagine #hangman fluff #glen powell #dagger squad imagine #Olympian!reader

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wheelsgoroundincircles · 4 months

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The Orbitron

The Orbitron is a custom car built by Ed Roth and feared lost until its rediscovery in Mexico in 2007

A second generation to Roth's original Beatnik Bandit, which was built in 1960, the Beatnik Bandit II features a one-of-a-kind fiberglass body with PPG lemon meringue pie paint, stylized Rat Fink designs on the sides, and chrome by Metal Masters of Salt Lake City, UT.

Beatnik Bandit II includes many unique design features, including an electronic console which operates the digital instrument panel and other features such as a digital readout of the car's latitude and longitude.

The lack of a rearview mirror is not a problem on this car. A "TV mirror" video monitor is mounted on the console with the actual camera mounted in the rear panel. The bubble top is also lifted electronically.

Beatnik Bandit II was built entirely by Roth, who credits "Revelations from Father in Heaven" for his achievement. The car has been shown in major U. S. cities, including Boston, Los Angeles, Chicago and Houston, as well as in Yokohama, Japan.

The Beatnik Bandit

Ed 'Big Daddy' Roth was an artist, cartoonist, illustrator, pinstriper and custom car designer and builder who created the hot-rod icon Rat Fink and other characters. Roth was a key figure in Southern California's Kustom Kulture and hot-rod movement of the late 1950s and 1960s The Beatnik Bandit was one of his first creations from the early 1960s. It was built from a 1949 Oldsmobile, the chassis was shortened 5 feet, the Olds engine was given the classic hotrod look with GMC blower and twin carbys, everything was chromed except the blower belt. The white interior featured single joystick, that operated turning, throttle and braking. The bubble top was created using compressed air to inflate a sheet of plastic into a dome in a pizza oven. On display at the National Automobile Museum in Reno

Mysterion

Ed Roth built the Mysterion in 1963, he got the idea from the multi engine dragsters he had seen at the dragstrips. He combined two Ford engines, two transmissions, plus two welded rear ends for the foundation. It featured an offset headlight and the typical Ed Roth bubble top. On display at Galpin Auto Sports.

The Road Agent by Ed “Big Daddy” Roth.

Mysterion

Custom builder and artist Ed "Big Daddy" Roth completed the Mysterion in 1963. The bubbletopped custom featured a completely original fiberglass body and twin Ford big-block engines. The weight of the engines was too much for the frame to bear, and the Mysterion fell apart. Tribute versions have been built, including this precise replica from Galpin Auto Sports.

The Surfink

The Surfink, created by Mark Glaz as a tribute to Ed Roth and Ratfink, features a large Ratfink figure atop a surfboard complete with a blown V-8 engine.

The Orbitron

Built in 1964, the vehicle was powered by a 1955 or 1956 Chevrolet V8 and was backed by a Powerglide automatic transmission. The body was hand-laid fiberglass, hiding Roth's extensive chrome work to the chassis. The cockpit, set at the extreme rear of the vehicle in the manner of a dragster, was lined with fake fur and featured an 11-inch General Electric "1-Touch" portable television inserted in the console. Topping the cockpit was a custom-made, hydraulically operated Plexiglas bubble top. One of a series of ordinary doorbell push-button switches atop the hood activated the top from the outside.

Other mechanical features included a 1956 Chevrolet rear end, dropped Ford front axle beam, Buickbrake drums and early Ford brakes. The frame was handmade of rectangular 2x4 inch steel tubing. The engine was a leftover from one of Roth's 1955 Chevrolets, having been removed to make way for a then-new Mark IV big-block given to him by General Motors. It was one of the very few completed cars Roth deemed to be a "mistake" because he felt the car did not show well since the heavily chromed engine and most of the chassis were hidden. The Orbitron was, in fact, one of his few customs to have a hood. Reportedly, the hydraulically operated hood did not fit well due to rushed fiberglass work.

The vehicle's most distinctive feature was its asymmetrical front end with red, green and blue tinted headlamps. It was thought that the three beams when combined would produce an intense white light; the idea came from the then-new medium of color television.

By Jerry Thompson - originally posted to Flickr as 2C7O4069, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=5973582

By Jerry Thompson - originally posted to Flickr as 2C7O4066, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=5973591

The Baja Bandeeto

Custom car builder and renowned painter Fritz ‘Spritz By Fritz‘ Schenck recreated with his bubble top roadster; the Baja Bandeeto.

#The Orbitron #car #cars #Beatnik Bandit II #ed roth #rat fink #The Beatnik Bandit #Beatnik Bandit #Ed 'Big Daddy' Roth #big daddy roth #big daddy #mysterion #The Road Agent #The Surfink #Surfink #The Baja Bandeeto #Fritz Schenck

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youandtom2 · 9 months

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Okay okay okay I know I have a million and one things to be writing right now but this idea just popped into my head and I’m a little obsessed. A lil Peter Parker fluff since I seem to be lacking it these days.

Imagine this…

It’s maybe 5-8 years later and Peter’s a little older, let’s say mid-late twenties. He’s still Spider-Man but it’s taken quite a toll on him, and being his biggest fan, twenty-year-old you spent all your teenage years watching old YouTube videos that people had posted about him, whether it's him saving the day once again or a friendly interaction. You dove deep. Really deep. News articles, TV clips, blogs, anything to fill the void of never having met him. Obsessive wasn't the word, it was just...really intense admiration.

In fact you learned and observed so much that you badly inherited his techniques; fighting, netogiating, his sense of deliberation and morales. You wanted to be the good guy, just like him.

Until one year, you decided that you wanted to help him out and support him in any means necessary.

What better way to do it than become just like him? Beating up the bad guys, stopping crime, keeping the city safe, just like he used to with a smile on his face.

It worked…for a while. Perhaps you sometimes got in a little over your head and admitted to being over ambitious with who you picked a fight with but it worked. Alas, Spider-Man didn’t recognise the help. You weren't even sure if he knew who you were. Nevertheless, you persevered because even without his recognition, each bad guy you stopped was one less fight for spider man.

Except one night, things didn’t go to plan. Your enemies were well equipped, well trained and far too cunning for your liking. You didn’t know what you were thinking; how exactly did you plan on single-handedly shutting down a five-man bank heist??

You became bruised, bloody and harmed like never before, reduced to merely a punching bag for the perpetrators, sport for the wicked. Just when you thought it was all over for you, when the light drained from your eyes, to your relief Spider-Man swooped in. The Spider-Man. The very same you had dreamt of meeting one day. The only shame was that it just had to be under these unfortunate circumstances. Damn.

Half conscious, he whisked you away to safety. Where? You’re too dazed to know, and you were left to slowly recover in the warmth of your bed while Spider-Man finished what you started. Your only regret was that you were barely conscious enough to thank him.

But he knew where you lived. That was something, right?

Surprisingly, he returned during the night with a few cuts and bruises to his skin, but it was nothing in comparison to you. He emerged from the window, his silhouette standing menacingly in front of you. Even with the mask that gave little away, it was obvious he had a dark scowl on his face and the narrow slits of his eyes painted exasperation. You swallowed thickly. He was not at all what you expected him to be, the hero persona you saw in all those videos ceased to exist and the closer he trudged towards you, the more you began to think that tonight's decisions were a mistake.

You shuffled nervously away but with the same scowl, he tended to your wounds, tutting and reprimanding each one, his small mutterings of disapproval twisting the knife of guilt that was already deep in your gut.

“I was just trying to help you out,” you whispered dejectedly.

“I don’t need help. Not from someone like you.”

Ouch.

“Just stay out of it. I've got enough people to protect, I can't keep looking out for people like you who deliberately put themselves in danger."

Then he was gone, floating out of your room with nothing but a gasp of wind swaying between your curtains. It wasn't just your body that took a beating that night. With your dignity slightly bruised, you decided that the only way you could recover from it was to push on, to not let his words take away all that you had achieved. You were sure you still had plenty more to accomplish, with or without Spider-Man's influence.

Ultimately you ignored Spider-Man's warning and continued to take it upon yourself to keep playing the wannabe hero. You were determined to prove him wrong, to show that you can rise to the occasion and prove that your mental shield is just as strong as your dedication.

A week and a half of convalescence passed by before you were back to your old habits, tapping into NYPD radio frequencies and listening out for reportings. Morally quiestionable, but it was all for the better.

Only one of note came through; a drug exchange, two known perpetrators. Easy.

And it was. You had the two pinned and tied ready for the police to collect them two minutes before they arrived. You were gone before then, not leaving a single trace of your presence. Pride smothered the pain and you walked home that night looking up at the bright stars in the night sky as if looking into the whites of Spider-Man's eyes, and gleamed brightly, perhaps with a twinkle of complacency.

Proved you wrong.

Little did you know, from the shadows and the dark contours of the tall buildings, he was actually watching you, following you. But of course, you didn't have the same spidey-senses as he did, so how could you possibly know he was there? He shook his head because that was the issue, you couldn't do half of the things he could, you were so ill-equipped, so normal, how could you possibly think that you could keep doing these dangerous things?

He swung away. He had more pressing matters to tend to.

~~~~

That drug exchange you stopped? Yeah, wasn't actually as simple as a drug exchange. It was two members of a dangerous cartel exchanging stolen intel from the NYPD. You were the reason why the NYPD found out they had a mole who had been stealing from them.

Yet they blamed Spider-Man. The only one they deemed capable enough of taking down two of their most dangerous members, and definitely not you.

It was then you learned that your actions had consequences because on the next night of exercising your vigilante hobby, the police had reported that Spider-Man had been ambushed, taken, held hostage and subjected to torturous methods of interrogation.

Your stomach dropped and your mind pleaded for repentence but was soon overtaken by a rage of retribution. It was dangerous, reckless, idiotic even to get involved. But Spider-Man had save your life once. It was time you returned the favour no matter how much Spider-Man would have repulsed the idea. The words swirled in your head. 'Just stay out of it.'

No. Not this time.

Conventiently, the interrogation was being held in the old, abandoned building you used to call your high school and it gave you the upperhand. It was likely that neither the cartel nor the police knew about the broken removeable fence at the far end of the sports ground. It was your way in.

Voices echoed from the gym hall.

"How did you know?!" Whack. A punch to Spider-Man's gut. "Who informed you?!" Screaming. Scratching from Spider-Man's throat along with incessant murmurings of I don't know I don't know.

While guilt thrummed through your veins, you needed to keep your cool, needed to figure out a way to get Spider-Man out safely. And quickly. What would Spider-Man...

No. What would you do?

From the bleachers, your eyes caught sight of the four big speakers hung at the corners of the room, the same speakers that voiced the principle's announcements during class. You had your idea, and you set your feet quickly into motion.

It was the perfect distraction. Thankfully there was still some power left in the old building, just enough to project the sound of the radio pressed against the microphone and left just enough time for you to make your way back to the gym hall where Spider-Man was being held.

Once the enemies had realised that there was someone else lurking among the hallways, your opponent numbers dropped from ten to two. Which was much more manageable.

Darkness and stealth was on your side but the pressure of time was weighing heavy. You had to act now. Filled with adrenaline, you took your chance and struck leaving the two enemies stunned enough to untie Spider-Man and drag him towards the emergency fire exits before the others returned. It was a fight like no other, exchanging hits, kicks and punches with equal hatred. But you had learned from the best.

You knew that as soon as you got out, you were on the home stretch. Your escape was becoming more and more plausible.

Despite your involvement, despite going against his word, Spider-Man still clung to you like his bloody, beaten body depended on it.

"C'mon," you strained, heaving underneath his heavy body as you trekked across the playground. "You can make it."

"Why are you here? I thought I told you to stay away." His voice was so hoarse from screaming that it was reduced to just a rumble coming from his throat, yet it was still somehow laced with frustration. You winced.

"Returning the favour."

Spider-Man heaved a painful breath, fighting to find his next words. "You shouldn't have."

You didn't reply.

You had whole-heartedly intended to return Spider-Man's favour in its entirety. Being unexpectantly successful in saving him, your next step was to tend to his wounds just like he did with you. But the second you were able to set him down, surrounded by the safety of the police, Spider-Man didn't wait one second before he reached upwards, extended his web and flew away, leaving you behind without a second glance.

Gutted. Absolutely gutted. Let down. Heartbroken.

Frozen, you had watched him disappear into the night feeling a void, a crater of emptiness dwelling in the pits of your stomach, swallowing up every particle of pride and achievement you thought you deserved. He ripped that all away from you.

Of all the enemies you had faced, of all the challenges you took on, the pain you had endured, no one had left you so emotionally defeated quite like Spider-Man had. Your hero. Your hero no longer. The holy image you had of him had shattered.

You fought with yourself so much over the incident that your mind was in ruin. One side told you that you exuded so much pride in yourself that it smothered his, leaving him embarrassed. Spider-Man saved by a random nobody? People, beside Spider-Man, would begin to question his capabilities. It would destroy his reputation.

But on the other, would it have killed him to thank you?

You soon learned not to care anymore. It had been weeks since you last saw him.

The door of your apartment softly clicked shut behind you as you trudged in with your groceries, juggling them all within your hands. It was a matter of time before the weight toppled and the loose apples went rolling across your floor, now bashed and bruised. Broken. No good. You barely had the motivation to pick them up, in fact, you barely had the motivation to do anything anymore. The fact that you had even left your house to shop was surprising in itself considering you had condemned yourself to your apartment. After all, Spider-man had abundantly made it clear that you were good for nothing. You had failed to learn the lesson he was trying to teach you all this time. Why exert yourself to do any good if it was just going to leave you equally as miserable?

After settling your groceries upon the counter top, you eventually set about picking up the apples, not even bothering to flick the main light on. The metal lid of your bin flapped open and--

"Don't bin them!" A voice came from behind you. You shrieked, whipping around to see a body standing by the edges of your kitchen. The lights came flickering on and standing there, to full height, was Spider-Man. He was fully suited, fresh, colourful, inviting.

Still frozen to the spot, he calmly stalked closer to you, plucking an apple from your hand and inspecting it. He gave it a quick clean against the fibres of his suit. "Nah, definitely not worth throwing away." Without hesitation, he casually lifted the bottom half of his mask to just below his nose, revealing only his mouth that bit into the apple. It seemed silly to admit, but you realised that there was indeed a human underneath that suit.

"What...what are you doing here?"

"Having an apple," he quipped. Your eyebrows quirked inwards, clearly not the answer you were searching for. You rephrased.

"Why are you here?"

He ignored your question and took a stroll around your kitchen, perching himself up onto the bunker, legs swinging childishly. "That's the thing about apples. They can endure a little bumping, a little rough-and-tumble, but they're still good on the inside."

You studied him carefully, analysing every word he said, every movement he made. Nothing about him stayed true to the Spider-Man you saved weeks ago. What was going on? Where is all this coming from? You remained on your toes until you discovered his motive.

"You've been keeping quiet it seems." His tone dropped, as did his informality and something more serious stepped in.

"Isn't that what you asked of me?" You could've done without the sneering, but given the heartbreak he had caused you, it was justified.

"Multiple times. But it never stopped you before. Why now?"

"Because..." you turned away from him, ripples of your misery washed through you. You took a deep breath and blurted out the truth like it was releasing the shackles that had been quietly binding you. "Because all I wanted to do was help you out. Not once did you care or appreciate it. Not once have ever said 'thank you'. That night..." He knew the one you were talking about. "I realised that no matter what I did, that was never going to change. So why bother."

He hopped off the bunker taking another bite from his apple. "Why would I do that, hm? Why would I thank you?"

You stared at him, incredulous. Your temper was begging to boil. "Because it's what people do when someone goes out their way to do something for them?! A stranger no less. Someone with zero obligation or commitments to you."

"True. But if I were to thank you, if I were to tell you that I had appreciated everything you did to help me out, if I were to thank you for saving my ass, would that not be encouraging of the thing I told you not to do?"

"I--"

"I let you do what you felt like you needed to do for a while, but the moment you got hurt I had to step in, I told you to stay out of it." He had sauntered over, standing within an arm's reach of you but you didn't falter.

"Why?"

"Because!" He bellowed. You flinched, his temper now matching yours. "You have no obligation or commitment to me! You don't need to do any of those things for me, yet you do. If I had let you continue believing that it's all okay to put yourself in harm's way, that it's okay to get hurt, or worse, killed, for me, then I would never be able to forgive myself."

For once, you didn't have the words nor the courage to counter his argument. Moments went by standing under his shadow, watching as his temper simmered to a look of pure despair. "Look," he said, quieter, more level headed. He placed his apple onto the counter beside him and bravely raised his hands to come either side of your face. Your heart skipped a beat. "I see the goodness in you, I really do. It's hard to come by these days. I don't want to see that being destroyed by some shithead on the street."

You averted your eyes but he only just followed your line of sight, somehow desperate to let this message sink in. "Promise me you'll keep yourself safe and leave the ass-kicking to me, alright? Be my good apple."

He mirrored the smile that found its way to your lips, inches away from his own. "Promise me?"

"I promise."

"Good." In a swift movement, he lured your head down until your forehead is met with a kiss, soft, sweet. Your eyes flutter shut for no more than the few seconds after he kissed you and when they open, they find his chest. He still kept you there, close to him, ensuring you felt the words that his lips brushed against your skin, over the scar you had obtained on one of those fateful nights. "You saved my life," he whispered, as if reminding himself. "I am forever in your debt. And be that as it may, please, please, don't do it again."

"Okay."

Spider-Man slowly pulled away, taking one last bite of the apple before pulling down his mask. He made a turn towards your open window, the way he came in, but not without a boyish chuckle, running a ragged hand through your hair and teasing it softly.

"My good apple."

a/n: wtf was this hahahahaha good apple? christ.

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #spider man #tom holland #tom holland fic #peter parker fanfic #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker dabble #peter parker shorts #mcu #fluff

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spacetimewithstuartgary · 11 days

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New SpaceTime out Wednesday....

SpaceTime 20240417 Series 27 Episode 47

Brown dwarfs are more star like than thought

A new study suggests that brown dwarfs are created through the same processes as stars and not like planets.

Astronomers expecting a nova event before the end of the year

Astronomers are expecting a distant star to explode in a spectacular event called a nova sometime between now and September.

The extreme starburst in galaxy M82

Astronomers have discovered that the starburst galaxy Messier 82 is manufacturing new stars some ten times faster than the Milky Way.

The Science Report

Study says Homosexual behaviour may have evolved because it plays a role in social bonding.

40% of the world's coastlines saw significant increase in heatwaves and extreme sea level rise.

TV, computer, and video game use by teens linked to psychotic experiences.

Alex on Tech Samsung’s new mega TV with a mega price to match.

SpaceTime covers the latest news in astronomy & space sciences.

The show is available every Monday, Wednesday and Friday through Apple Podcasts (itunes), Stitcher, Google Podcast, Pocketcasts, SoundCloud, Bitez.com, YouTube, your favourite podcast download provider, and from www.spacetimewithstuartgary.com

SpaceTime is also broadcast through the National Science Foundation on Science Zone Radio and on both i-heart Radio and Tune-In Radio.

SpaceTime daily news blog: http://spacetimewithstuartgary.tumblr.com/

SpaceTime facebook: www.facebook.com/spacetimewithstuartgary

SpaceTime Instagram @spacetimewithstuartgary

SpaceTime twitter feed @stuartgary

SpaceTime YouTube: @SpaceTimewithStuartGary

SpaceTime -- A brief history

SpaceTime is Australia’s most popular and respected astronomy and space science news program – averaging over two million downloads every year. We’re also number five in the United States. The show reports on the latest stories and discoveries making news in astronomy, space flight, and science. SpaceTime features weekly interviews with leading Australian scientists about their research. The show began life in 1995 as ‘StarStuff’ on the Australian Broadcasting Corporation’s (ABC) NewsRadio network. Award winning investigative reporter Stuart Gary created the program during more than fifteen years as NewsRadio’s evening anchor and Science Editor. Gary’s always loved science. He studied astronomy at university and was invited to undertake a PHD in astrophysics, but instead focused on his career in journalism and radio broadcasting. He worked as an announcer and music DJ in commercial radio, before becoming a journalist and eventually joining ABC News and Current Affairs. Later, Gary became part of the team that set up ABC NewsRadio and was one of its first presenters. When asked to put his science background to use, Gary developed StarStuff which he wrote, produced and hosted, consistently achieving 9 per cent of the national Australian radio audience based on the ABC’s Nielsen ratings survey figures for the five major Australian metro markets: Sydney, Melbourne, Brisbane, Adelaide, and Perth. The StarStuff podcast was published on line by ABC Science -- achieving over 1.3 million downloads annually. However, after some 20 years, the show finally wrapped up in December 2015 following ABC funding cuts, and a redirection of available finances to increase sports and horse racing coverage. Rather than continue with the ABC, Gary resigned so that he could keep the show going independently. StarStuff was rebranded as “SpaceTime”, with the first episode being broadcast in February 2016. Over the years, SpaceTime has grown, more than doubling its former ABC audience numbers and expanding to include new segments such as the Science Report -- which provides a wrap of general science news, weekly skeptical science features, special reports looking at the latest computer and technology news, and Skywatch – which provides a monthly guide to the night skies. The show is published three times weekly (every Monday, Wednesday and Friday) and available from the United States National Science Foundation on Science Zone Radio, and through both i-heart Radio and Tune-In Radio.

#science #space #astronomy #physics #news #nasa #esa #astrophysics #spacetimewithstuartgary #starstuff #spacetime #nasa photos #jwst

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osharenippon · 5 months

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Shoujo Manga’s Golden Decade (Part 1)

Shoujo manga, comics for girls, played a pivotal role in shaping Japanese girls' culture, and its dynamic evolution mirrors the prevailing trends and aspirations of the era. For many, this genre peaked in the 1970s. But why?

Manga stands as one of Japan's primary cultural exports, deeply ingrained in the local culture and enjoyed by individuals of all ages and genders across various genres. Conventionally, manga is divided into two editorial segments: shonen (targeted at boys) and shoujo (targeted at girls). While shonen manga, propelled by hits like "Dragon Ball," "Slam Dunk," "Naruto," and "One Piece," has achieved global popularity, girls' comics, with their own international sensations such as "Sailor Moon," hold a crucial position in the market. The evolving landscape of girls' manga serves as a fascinating lens through which to observe the shifting fashionable aspirations and beauty ideals within Japanese society.

Shoujo manga has a rich history, dating back to the early 20th century. However, it truly gained recognition in its modern form in the late '50s and early '60s when prominent Japanese publishers introduced shoujo manga anthologies such as Kodansha's Nakayoshi and Shoujo Friend, as well as Shueisha's Ribon and Margaret. The acclaimed "godfather of manga," Osamu Tezuka, is often credited with creating the first modern shoujo, "The Princess Knight," in 1954, and the first shonen, "Astro Boy," in 1952.

A distinguishing feature of shoujo manga is that it is created by and for girls. But, in the '50s, this wasn't the case, and male artists dominated the shoujo field, which was considered an entryway to the manga business. By the 1960s, that would change as publishers recognized that women creators possessed a unique proficiency in crafting narratives centered around female experiences. Female manga-kas resonated with readers in a way that many male artists couldn't, marking a crucial shift in the landscape of shoujo manga.

The Volleyball Craze

A notable display of how shoujo could mirror societal trends unfolded in the '60s. In 1964, the Tokyo Olympics marked a new beginning for post-war Japan, and the female volleyball team, known as Toyo no Majou (the Oriental Witches), achieved stardom by clinching victory in the finals against the Soviet Republic. This triumph triggered a nationwide "volleyball boom," resonating particularly within the shoujo manga realm.

Shueisha's Ribon, historically the leader in the shoujo manga field, started publication in 1955. Still, the editorial house would only begin to make its series available in standalone tankobon format almost 15 years later through the now iconic Ribon Mascot Comics imprint. The first series to be made available by the imprint was Chikako Ide's "Viva Volleyball."

Simultaneously, over at Kodansha, Shoujo Friend was also eager to capitalize on the boom. Editors commissioned a title about the sport from illustrator Akira Mochizuki and novelist Shiro Jimbo. The final project, "Sign wa V," became a multimedia success, being quickly adapted into a live-action TV drama that achieved very high ratings.

While "Viva! Volleyball" and "Sign wa V" enjoyed success in their time, they did not etch themselves into the collective memory. The true shoujo sports manga blockbuster, a cross-generational classic universally known in Japan, is Chikako Urano's "Attack No. 1," serialized from 1968 to 1970 in Weekly Margaret.

It became the first shoujo manga title to surpass ten tankobon volumes (it had a total of 12 volumes), and it was forever immortalized thanks to its 1970 anime adaptation, which reached huge ratings on Japanese TV. Everything about "Attack No. 1" -- from the original manga to the cartoon adaptation to the anime's theme song, which sold over 700k copies as a single -- was a success.

The story of a high school girl trying to become the best player in her school, in Japan, and, eventually, in the world became a phenomenon setting the stage for the '70s "golden era of shoujo."

The Shoujo Lost Years

Until the '70s, manga carried the stigma of being a guilty pleasure, often viewed as a "poison" meant to dumb down young readers. Despite a few discerning individuals recognizing the medium's potential, manga critics, enthusiasts, and tastemakers — predominantly men — largely disregarded female-centric comics. Shoujo manga, despite its immense popularity, faced the harshest criticism.

Because society and critics downplayed shoujo, influential shoujo manga-kas from the '50s and '60s, such as Hideko Mizuno, do not enjoy the same level of recognition as their shonen counterparts from that era.

Hideko Mizuno and a page of one of her most celebrated works, "Fire."

Mizuno was one of the first women to create manga, worked as an assistant to Osamu Tezuka, and was behind several massive hits that had a significant impact on women in the '50s, '60s, and '70s. In fact, the most iconic shoujo manga-kas from the '70s golden period directly mention her as an influence. She fought to include romance -- now the essential element in girls' manga -- in her works back when such topics were deemed inappropriate by male editors.

Mizuno's repertoire was vast: she wrote mangas about little girls and their poneys, magic adventures, and romcoms based on Audrey Hepburn's movies, and she drew the first sex scene in a shoujo manga. The manga in question was "Fire," a teen-targeted manga featuring a rebellious American rocker, which broke new ground by having a male character as its focal point. Alongside other notable female artists from the '60s, Mizuno laid the groundwork for the '70s shoujo explosion, during which girls' comics took center stage.

In 1960's "Hoshi no Tategoto" (left,) Hideko Mizuno created the first shoujo love story. Serialized in Weekly Margaret between 1964 and 65, "Shiroi Troika," set during the Russian Revolution, was the first historical shoujo manga.

A contributing factor to this "golden period" was the emergence of several shoujo mangas as unstoppable hits, selling millions of copies and becoming cultural phenomena. These titles, considered masterpieces, continue to be read and known by multiple generations.

The BeruBara Boom

"Attack No. 1"'s success spread far and wide, forcing Japanese society to take note of the potential of the shoujo segment. Right after this historic success, Shueisha's Weekly Margaret hit the jackpot once again with another epoch-defining manga hit, Ryoko Ikeda's "The Rose of Versailles," which debuted in 1972. Set in the years preceding and during the French Revolution, it weaved together historical figures like Marie Antoinette and fictional ones, like the iconic Lady Oscar, a handsome noblewoman raised as a boy to succeed her father as the commander of the Royal Guard at the Palace of Versailles.

The first volume of the original comic had Marie Antoinette on the cover as Margaret's editors believed she'd be the favorite character. However, the androgynous Lady Oscar turned into a fan fave and the absolute star of the series, which is reflected on the cover of most rereleases since then, including the 2013 bunko version seen above.

When talking about shoujo manga classics from the '70s recognized by literally everyone in Japan, "Rose of Versailles" is probably the first name that comes to mind. It was a hit that really defined the era and impacted the country as a whole. While Marie Antoinette is seen around the world as a tragic, out-of-touch figure, in Japan, many women and girls see her as an aspirational historical fashion icon. While Sofia Coppola's 2006 film "Marie Antoinette" solidified this among younger generations, it was Ikeda's gentle portrait that made her a character loved by so many across all age groups.

When conceptualizing the story, Ikeda was heavily inspired by Stefan Zweig's "Marie Antoinette: The Portrait of an Average Woman," which she read while in high school. Once in college, in the late '60s, she, like millions of others, was heavily involved with the Marxist student movements. These references led to a historical romance that touched on heavy and revolutionary themes, which was atypical for a shoujo manga, a segment that, back then, was primarily catered to elementary school-aged girls.

Because of its unorthodox concept, Margaret's editors were unsure about the series. But right from the start, "BeruBara" (derived from the original Japanese title, "Berusaiyu no Bara"), serialized between 1972 and 1973, was an explosive hit, quickly turning into Weekly Margaret's most popular series. It was compiled in 10 tankobon volumes published, which sold tens of millions of copies.

In 1974, after the original manga had finished its serialization, Takarazuka Revue, an all-female theatrical troupe, announced a stage adaptation of the story.

Posters of the first three Takarazuka adaptations, from between 1974 and 1975. Since then, the Revue has adapted the manga 11 times, with a new run scheduled for 2024.

The Revue was established in 1913 by the owner of Kansai's leading railway company, Hankyu, to boost tourism to the city of Takarazuka, his line's last stop. It was a huge success, and soon, the group had its own luxurious theater as well as its very exclusive academy where young ladies underwent an arduous audition process to become Takaraziennes. In 1934, a second Takarazuka theater opened in Tokyo.

However, in the early 1970s, Takarazuka faced stagnation, with declining ticket sales attributed to the growing popularity of alternative entertainment forms such as cinema and television.

In 1973, Shinji Ueda, who had risen through the Takarazuka ranks as a director, made his debut as a playwriter in the company with a musical based on ancient Japanese history. While thinking about his next project, he decided to check out a manga popular with some Takarazuka fans, "Rose of Versailles," and he quickly realized it was the perfect theme for an adaptation. Lady Oscar, who had lady-like features but was also as handsome as a man, was the embodiment of the male role-playing Takaraziennes. Ueda reached out to Ryoko Ikeda, who, as an admirer of the troupe, quickly granted the rights.

But Ikeda and Ueda's excitement wasn't shared by many. Most of the Takarazuka team were skeptical about a play inspired by something as vulgar as a manga. Fans of the original were also highly protective of its characters and entirely against a live adaptation.

Amid this climate of distrust, the play opened at the end of August 1974 at the Takarazuka Grand Theater. The reaction after the first night was extremely positive. Soon, Takarazuka's "Rose of Versailles" was the hottest ticket in all of Japan, with the press breathlessly covering the "BeruBara boom" that led thousands of people to stand hours in line to get tickets to the coveted performances in Kansai and Tokyo. Ikeda herself was shocked by the media phenomenon when she returned from an overseas trip and had hundreds of reporters awaiting her at the airport.

A statue of Lady Oscar and Andre surrounded by rose bushes sits outside the Takarazuka Grand Theater in Hyogo, Japan.

The "BeruBara" phenomenon single-handedly reversed Takarazuka's fortunes, leading to record-shattering ticket sales for the company. The Takarazuka Academy, which had seen declining applicants, suddenly became highly sought-after again, originating the saying "Todai in the East, Takarazuka in the West," comparing it to Tokyo University, the most prestigious university in Japan. The phrase underscored the desirability and prestige associated with a position at the troupe.

Ultimately, the success of "The Rose of Versailles" propelled Takarazuka back to the pinnacle of the entertainment industry, a position it maintains to this day. The brand continues to hold great esteem among women of all ages in Japan, with Takarazuka's stage adaptations, derived from Broadway musicals, movies, novels, and shoujo manga, consistently selling out. Notably, various adaptations of "BeruBara" have collectively sold over 5 million tickets since 1974.

Following the manga and Takarazuka adaptation's explosive success, the anime debuted in 1979. While the anime received acclaim, Ikeda herself was not entirely satisfied, mainly due to the treatment of her favorite character, Andre, who played a significant role in the manga but had a minor presence in the animated version, which focused almost entirely on the manga's most popular character, Lady Oscar.

In 2013, celebrating Margaret's 50th anniversary, new special chapters of "BeruBara" were published. The first new story in 40 years resulted in Margaret magazine selling out across the country.

"BeruBara" remains a prominent franchise in Japan, spawning numerous licensed products, sequels, and spin-offs. Ryoko Ikeda, known for other successful series, continues to garner widespread respect and media attention. However, while almost everything related to "The Rose of Versailles" turned into a hit, there was an exception.

In March 1979, a few months before the anime premiere, a live-action film adaptation debuted with great fanfare. Fittingly for such a hot property, the movie was one of the most ambitious productions in Japanese cinema, with a substantial 1 billion yen budget.

The Palace of Versailles granted permission to shoot in its interior. The film was filmed in English, with a European cast. The project was helmed by France's hottest movie director, Jacques Demy. Demy wasn't respected only in the West but also in Japan, where his two most important films, "The Umbrellas of Cherbourg" (1964) and "The Young Girls of Rochefort (1967)," were also hits. In fact, to this day, both flicks remain popular among trend-conscious Japanese as examples of stylish oshare movies that fully capture aspirational girls' culture (alongside, among others, Sofia Coppola's "Marie Antoinette"). Demy, the mind behind dreamy, girly movies, seemed like the perfect choice to turn this blockbuster shoujo classic into a live-action film.

The movie had the backing of three gigantic domestic corporations: Toho, the leading Japanese movie distributor; Nihon Terebi (NTV), one of the main TV stations; and cosmetic giant Shiseido. NTV and Shiseido made sure the movie had one of the most extensive marketing campaigns Japan had ever witnessed. The TV station aired specials and segments on this grand production. Meanwhile, Shiseido made the star of the movie -- British actress Catriona McCall, who played Oscar -- the face of its spring campaign, promoting its new Red Rose lipstick. Catriona was plastered on billboards across the country, made media and department store appearances, and starred in luxurious TV spots.

On the left, Lady Oscar and Marie Antoinette adorn the cover of Margaret in 2016, over 40 years after the end of the original serialization. On the right, Oscar models Dolce & Gabanna new collection for high-end fashion magazine Spur in 2014, celebrating 40 years of the conclusion of the original manga.

Back then, Kanebo, the second biggest local cosmetic company, was in fierce competition with Shiseido. TV ads from both companies had a tremendous impact, propelling singles to the top of the charts, and there was a battle on which commercial would feature the biggest hit. But, in the spring of 79, the focus of the fight changed. As a response to the Catriona "Rose of Versailles" campaign, Kanebo also hired a British beauty, actress Olivia Hussey, and launched a "Super Rose lipstick" with the tagline "You are more beautiful than a rose." The cosmetics war was another proof of the chokehold "The Rose of Versailles" had in the decade.

But, when the movie finally premiered, it was a flop. Critics hated it. Japanese fans thought the adaptation was weak and lacked impact. Catriona, in particular, was very criticized for not conveying Oscar's androgynous charm, which perfectly balanced masculinity and femininity. With the well-received anime premiering just a few months later, the expensive movie adaptation ended up being outshined and forgotten. It became only a costly footnote in its history.

An exhibition in Tokyo celebrates 50 years of BeruBara in 2022.

(It's worth noting that Kanebo clearly won the CM war. The "You Are More Beautiful than a Rose" song they commissioned from singer Akira Fuse became a considerable hit).

Movie aside, "The Rose of Versailles" is one of Japan's most beloved comics. From its debut in 1971 to its film and anime adaptation in 1979, it remained front and center in the country's mind throughout the whole decade. Its impact was felt in different fields, from the cosmetic business to the publishing business, from live theater to TV. It also forever changed how shoujo manga was perceived and remains one of the country's most beloved properties.

Ace-Scoring Manga

The 1970s marked a turning point for shoujo manga, as it began to gain recognition beyond its traditional audience, propelled not just by critical acclaim but by commercial success. The era witnessed the emergence of several blockbusters that captured the public's imagination. Notable among them were Yoko Shoji's "Seito Shokun," a tale centered on the daily exploits of a mischievous high-schooler, and Waki Yamato's "Haikara-san ga Toru," a love story set in the Meiji period featuring a tomboy with a lady-like demeanor. These manga were significant hits during their publication in Shoujo Friends, becoming best-selling titles.

Some shoujo classics from the '70s are still in publication today, appealing to a diverse readership spanning multiple generations. Suzue Michi's "Glass Mask," serialized in Hana to Yume since 1976, remains a cultural phenomenon with 49 tankobon volumes, over 55 million copies sold, an anime adaptation, a live-action drama, and a stage play. Similarly, Chieko Hosokawa's "Crest of the Royal Family," chronicling the adventures of a young American girl transported to ancient Egypt, has been a consistent presence in Princess magazine since 1976, boasting 69 volumes and over 45 million copies sold to date.

But, when talking about definitive shoujo classics from the '70s, titles that were historical successes, influenced everything going forward, and are known by everyone, three titles come to mind. We already explored one of these, "The Rose of Versailles." One of the other three is "Ace wo Nerae."

Following the monumental success of "Attack No. 1," the prospects of another shoujo sports manga achieving similar heights of popularity seemed improbable. However, Weekly Margaret defied expectations once more in 1973 with the release of Suzumika Yamamoto's "Ace wo Nerae" ("Aim for the Ace"), a compelling narrative focused on tennis that swiftly captured the nation's attention.

Japan and tennis already had some prior history. The first Japanese Olympic medalist was a tennis player, Ichy Kumagae, in 1920. Emperor Akihito met his commoner wife, Michiko, at a tennis match, and they initially bonded over their love for the sport. But, in the 70s, the country was taken over by an unprecedented tennis boom. At high schools across the nation, tennis became the most popular after-school activity. Fashion magazines like JJ and Popeye dedicated pages and pages to "tennis fashion." At the same time, trendy young adults decked in clothes from sports brands populated Shibuya and other stylish districts in Tokyo.

There were several contributors to the tennis boom. But the remarkable success of "Ace wo Nerae," which first conquered girls before dominating the nation, played a part in it.

The manga follows the journey of Hiromi Oka, a high school student initially plagued by insecurities but propelled into the world of tennis through the encouragement of her coach. "Ace wo Nerae" portrays her growth from a hesitant newcomer to a world-class tennis player, navigating challenges and discovering hidden potential along the way.

From left to right: Madame Butterfly, lead character Hiromi Oka and coach Jin Murakata as depicted in the anime. Madame Butterfly, a rich wealthy student who was gentle and a world-class tennis player, is a fan favorite character.

In 1973, "Ace wo Nerae" was adapted into an anime. Despite initial modest ratings, the anime gained popularity through reruns. Encouraged by this, NTV decided to remake the cartoon. The second adaptation, which debuted in 1978, was an immediate hit. Concurrently, Weekly Margaret revived the manga series, which, after being first finalized in 1975, ran again from 1978 to 1980, spanning a total of 18 volumes.

Since "Ace wo Nerae," several hit mangas focused on tennis -- both shoujo and shonen -- were published. But, thanks to the success of its anime and the intragenerational support for the manga, the original work by Suzumika Yamamoto is still considered one of the defining and most beloved works about the sport. Its role in propelling tennis culture as part of the oshare youth culture of the '70s also defines its impact.

Japan Wants Candy

Following the monumental multimedia success of "The Rose of Versailles" and "Ace wo Nerae," the third shoujo sensation of the '70s is "Candy Candy."

Initially published in Nakayoshi, the story started taking shape when editors at the magazine sought a work of literary excellence akin to beloved classics popular among girls, like "Heidi" and "Anne of Green Gables." They enlisted Keiko Nagita, writing under the pen name Kyoko Mizuki, and paired her with one of the magazine's most famous artists, Yumiko Igarashi. The collaborative effort resulted in the creation of "Candy Candy," centered around an American, blond, blue-eyed orphan named Candice "Candy" White Ardlay.

"Candy Candy" epitomized various shoujo directions prevalent in the '70s. The protagonist, a white girl with lustrous blonde hair, embodied the fascination with Western culture during a time when Japanese youth held a keen interest in Europe and the United States. The manga's narrative style, characterized by its dramatic tone and intricate plot twists, also aligned with the prevalent storytelling preferences of the era.

Candy Candy was such a resounding success that it became the first manga to achieve an initial print run of over 1 million copies of one of its paperback compilations.

Debuting in 1975, "Candy Candy" swiftly captured the hearts of Nakayoshi's readers, leading to unprecedented success. The subsequent anime adaptation by Toei in the following year propelled the franchise into the realm of a cultural phenomenon, sending manga tankobon sales skyrocketing. The seventh volume of the "Candy Candy" compiled paperback reportedly became the first Japanese manga to achieve an initial print run of over 1 million copies. Additionally, Nakayoshi's sales surged, surpassing those of Shueisha's Ribon for the first (and only) time.

The adventures of young Candy were also licensing gold. With over 100 licensed products, the "Candy Candy" doll alone sold 2 million units, solidifying Bandai's position as Japan's premier toymaker, a status it continues to uphold to this day. The resounding success of "Candy Candy" forged a lasting alliance between Kodansha's Nakayoshi, Toei Animation, and toymaker Bandai, which led to the iconic "Sailor Moon" franchise in the 1990s.

While "Candy Candy" concluded its run in 1979, its appeal extended far beyond its original target demographic, captivating kids, teenagers, and adults alike, thus contributing significantly to the manga and anime's widespread acclaim and enduring popularity.

However, a protracted legal dispute between Igarashi and Nagita has prevented the commercialization of any "Candy Candy" related products since the late 1990s, including reprints of the manga and re-broadcasting of the anime. The lawsuit arose from Igarashi's unauthorized licensing of merchandise based on the franchise, falsely asserting sole ownership of the copyright. Although Igarashi was initially credited as the lead artist in Nakayoshi during the manga's publication, the court ultimately ruled in Nagita's favor, emphasizing that Igarashi's artistic foundation was built upon Nagita's written work.

A collection of "Candy Candy" freebies offered by Nakayoshi magazine in the '70s. During the publication of the series, Nakayoshi would eclipse Ribon's sales for the one and only time in its history, (image credit)

Consequently, any commercial exploitation of Yumiko Igarashi's "Candy Candy" artwork necessitates the approval of both Igarashi and Nagita, a challenging prospect given the existing feud. Nagita, on the other hand, can profit from "Candy Candy" as long as she doesn't include any illustrations, which allowed her to release a book sequel in 2010. However, due to the dispute, one of the most beloved works in Japanese manga history is currently out of print. The lawsuit also blocks the anime from being aired or distributed. But, despite the almost two-decades-long media ban, "Candy Candy" remains widely known and beloved across Japan, a testament to its staying power.

While smash hits like "Candy Candy," "Ace wo Nerae," "Rose of Versailles," "Seito Shokun," "Hikara-san ga Tooru," and "Glass Mask," among others were key pieces into shoujo finally earning the respect it deserved, the rise of a revolutionary group of artists during the '70s was another critical element in shoujo's rise: the Year of 24 Group.

Part 2

#1970s japan #1970s #vintage shoujo #shoujo manga #lady oscar #rose of versailles #ace wo nerae #candy candy

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