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jinnie-ret · 7 months

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9th member reader where skz are on a talk show or smth and the host is saying some uncomfy stuff abt reader being the only girl in a group of boys. the boys would be kinda passive aggressive about their replies because they cant outright say anything for fear of bad publicity and being disrespectful. i like the idea of the boys sticking up for reader in any way they can, even if they have to be sly about it so reader knows they have their back

bite my tongue

stray kids x ninth member!reader

genre: angst

content warnings: sexual harassment (verbal)

word count: 1.6k

summary: when an interviewer decides to pick on you specifically, the boys do their best to hold back and get you out of the situation.

Thank you so much for this request! I'm sorry it took so long for me to answer but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!!

As always, like, reblog if you enjoyed, and my asks are open for any requests you may have. And let me know if you'd like to be tagged when I post :)

MAIN MASTERLIST

You decided you hated interviews. There was clearly a difference between how they'd talk to the boys in comparison to how they'd treat you. Whether it was by completely ignoring your existence or sexualising you as the only female in the group, it made you feel awful. The gross comments that were made caused you to feel uncomfortable, yet your demeanour was too shy to fight back. Perhaps that was a good thing, you had 8 other members to defend you at all times anyways.

You were currently doing an interview to promote S-CLASS, your new title track, and it seemed to be a nice atmosphere, a nice sit down conversation where you could talk about your music mixed in with other personal questions to make it more fun. But that was the issue, it wasn't fun. It started off light-hearted, and you worried you were being sensitive and overreacting at first when you suspected the questions you received weren't normal ones, but by the expressions on the boys' faces, you realised you were right to feel this way.

"So, Y/N, tell me, what was it like getting to do a more masculine dance this time? I saw the music video and I was quite surprised at how well you did," the male interviewer started off.

You mouth visibly dropped open in shock, yet you did your best to answer, despite your nerves.

"Ummm, I think my dance skills have improved over the years, yes," you said, not able to make eye contact with the man, not directly saying anything about his prejudiced words.

You had been with Stray Kids from the very start. Yes, the public had their things to say about you being in a group with a bunch of guys, but it had been 5 years now. Of course you were accustomed to the dance style of Stray Kids. You had created your own image through your music and dance, so what if the dance moves were typically more powerful with sharper movements? You were part of the dance line for a reason.

"Our Y/Nnie did so well," Hyunjin ruffled your hair from where he was sat behind you, trying to lighten the mood as he could tell his other members weren't too happy with how you were being treated.

You turned to Hyunjin with a thankful smile.

"So, 3RACHA, you do all the producing for the group right? That's quite a unique situation amongst idol groups," the man asked the group, and nearly everyone let out a sigh of relief and allowed themselves to smile, grateful for a normal question.

"Ah yes, 3RACHA have been together since predebut, so we've worked hard over the years to create music that represents our group and who we are," Jisung nodded and explained.

You couldn't help but check the time on your watch, seeing there was still 10 minutes to go.

"Y/N, how did it feel having to squeeze into your outfit in the MV? I noticed it was quite a tight leather jumpsuit you wore, that must have been difficult to wear considering it clinged onto you so tightly," the man directed his question at you again, and you were taken aback once more.

"It, umm, it wasn't too difficult, yeah... I think it fitted the vibe of the song," you said, clearly uncomfortable as you shifted in your seat.

Why did you get these types of questions? The boys got asked about music, and you instead got ridiculed for your skills and sexualised by the gross man in his mid 40s.

"Don't you want to ask me about how I fitted into my outfit? I've been working out these days," Changbin tensed his arms, flexing and patting his muscles proudly as he took the attention away from you. He seemed to have been thinking the same way as you.

"Maybe you should help Y/N, she's so small and weak, you could do anything you wanted with her," the man suggestively wiggled his eyebrows at you, and quite frankly, you wanted to throw up.

"Have you been working out, sir?" Minho spoke sharply and asked the man, infuriated.

"Oh yes I'm quite strong, can lift just about anyone in this room," he said. The statement of course, inferred he was challenging everyone else, yet his eyes never left your shy and nervous figure sat on the stool.

Everyone could see it. And they knew it was time for something to be done. They didn't think they could last the rest of the interview without punching the interviewer in the face. Yet, they did their best to keep their composure.

"Sorry, sir," Chan began through gritted teeth, tongue poking his cheek, "unfortunately we don't have anymore time for this interview," and he gestured everyone to stand up and follow his lead, exiting the room.

As you did so, you saw the blatantly shocked face on the man's face, Felix wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you left.

The boys were calm, until you made it to your backstage room where you had gotten ready earlier. All hell broke loose.

"What does that man think he's doing?" Changbin slammed his hand down onto the table, making you jump as you stayed quiet.

"I can't believe all those stupid things he was saying!" Minho growled, folding his arms.

"He's disgusting," Seungmin shook his head.

Chan was the angriest of them all, face of thunder as he paced the room. And yet, you couldn't help but feel bad. Surely, that interview couldn't be released now? And it was meant to help promote your new music, and because of your presence in the group, you felt like you were taking that opportunity away from them.

"Y/Nnie?" Jeongin waved his hand in your face to get your attention.

"Hmm?" you shook your head wondering what he was asking.

"Are you okay?" he asked gently, and with all the anger that was in the room, it dissipated with your calm voice breaking through it.

"I guess..." you didn't really know what to say at this point. You felt like you should have been used to it by now.

"I know that look on your face, Y/Nnie, don't even go there," Chan shook his head at you, a frown still present on his face.

"I don't want to do interviews anymore," you suddenly blurted, fiddling with your hands nervously.

"Y/N..." Hyunjin sighed, but you cut him off.

"Every time we promote something we get an interview like this that can't be put out to the public. And it's because I'm here. And then that means our music will be getting out to less people out there and-" you fretted.

"If you seriously think this is your fault Y/N," Seungmin sat up, pure disbelief seeping through his words as he couldn't believe that even with the way you were being treated you still felt guilty.

"Y/N, you didn't make that interviewer say all those gross things towards you," Felix rubbed your shoulder soothingly.

"You actually did really well to still try and answer him," Jisung nodded at you, thinking that he wouldn't have been able to have done the same thing.

"I had to bite my tongue so many times to not shout at him," Changbin gritted his teeth.

"This is why I shouldn't do these anymore, because it just ends up stressing you guys out," you felt bad, sitting down with your leg bouncing up and down.

"You're worried about us? We're worried about you, it's not fair that someone talks to you like that," Jeongin shook his head, hands on his hips.

"Y/N, here's what we're going to do. First, we're going to file a complaint against that guy. And second, for all future interviews we'll get the company to do a thorough check on if they're respectful and actually treat their guests right," Chan began, a plan already sorted in his mind for what action they could take.

"You're part of this group as much as anyone else, we can't represent Stray Kids without you there with us," Minho said like it was obvious, but it didn't feel that way to you.

"But it's always going to be the same thing. I'd rather not risk it again," you say, upset at the situation you had all been put in.

"Chan hyung already said, we can check what the show is like before going on it. That way you can decide from there, yeah?" Felix suggested, hand stroking through your hair as he sat next to you on the sofa.

"Or if you really don't want to do interviews anymore, I'm sure there's a way we can work around it. We could do more company based promotions and Div.1 can help us make our own shows?" Jisung wondered.

"No, I don't want to make things more complicated... I'll do them, I will, I just don't want this to ever happen again. It stresses me out, makes me feel all, gross," you shuddered.

"As long as you're sure, Y/N," Changbin checked in on you as everyone grabbed their things ready to leave the studio.

"Yeah, I'm sure," you mustered up a small smile, leaving with the others.

As you walked to the cars, you spoke up again, speaking louder than your normal quiet voice to catch the attention of everyone else.

"Thanks, by the way guys. Thank you for doing that."

"You don't have to thank us for that, Y/Nnie. We'd do that anytime, you know that," Hyunjin ruffled your hair, him and the rest of the boys now seeming more themselves and happier as you were leaving.

tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng

#skz #stray kids #stray kids x reader #skz fluff #skz x reader #skz angst #straykids imagines #stray kids fluff #skz fic #stray kids imagines #skz ninth imagines #skz ninth #skz ninth member imagines #skz ninth member #stray kids ninth #stray kids ninth member #skz 9th member #stray kids 9th member #stray kids angst

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neonghostlights · 10 months

Note

If you’re taking requests could you write something with Eddie surviving the upside down and he’s trying to get back into the swing of things. He moves in with reader so she can care for him. She gets his pills for him everyday, makes sure he takes them, changes his bandages helps him bathe and changes his clothes. I just picture everyone over sitting around a table it’s the first time they’ve seen Eddie since he’s discharged from the hospital, maybe a game night or eating pizza and Eddie is all bandaged up under a t shirt and sweatpants. No one has ever seen him without his leather jacket or jean vest. Reader is behind him guiding him to the table and he’s kind of groany as he sits down. Nobody really knows how to act around him they are just grateful he’s alive. Maybe he’s struggling to find his independence, but it’s not readers fault she has been his rock through everything. Angst, but Happy ending please please

Hi, this was my first request ever! Hope I did okay.

Warnings: Pills/Pain medication, Parental Drug Addiction, Pain, Wounds, Eddie gets a little grumpy, 18+ only

Word count: 2.5k

Even If It Hurts

Eddie sat on the side of the bed with his head in his hands. His hair sat in a bun at the nape of his neck, now loose from sleep. The sheets of the bed were pulled back on both sides. Your empty spot cold since you had been up for probably a while by now.

The sound of you clinking around through the kitchen made Eddie want to smile but he couldn't bring himself to. Mornings were the worst for his pain. Lying in bed for hours while being unconscious and utterly still made it excruciating when it was finally time to move his muscles. Even just sitting on the side of the bed unassisted was painful.

It was progress though. He couldn’t do this a few weeks ago. He knew you were going to be so proud of him when you came in here to collect him. He wouldn’t tell you how painful it was or how it took everything inside him not to scream or thrash just from moving his torso. He wouldn’t tell you how he had to put a piece of the blanket between his teeth so no noises would slip through.

Your slippered feet pattered down the hall towards him. Each scuff against the wooden floor boards bringing you closer to him.

You peeked your head into the room, eyes searching Eddie’s spot in the bed. When you saw him sitting up, using the edge of the nightstand as a crutch to hold himself in place, your eyes grew wide.

“Look at you,” you cooed softly. Not ready to break the trance of the early morning.

Eddie made a face. Perhaps it could be qualified as a smile but it was more like a grimace. He tried to hide his pain from you sometimes but you knew. Smiles from Eddie were hard to come by these days. You tried so hard to bring back the personality of the man you knew. The doctors told you it would take a while. He went through something traumatic and that changes a person. You were told to give him some space.

But you had some tricks up your sleeves.

You held the pain pill in your palm out to him. He was able to do this part on his own, the placing of the pill on the tongue. You placed the glass of water to his lips when he was ready, tilting it for him to wash it down. It was too heavy for him to lift on his own before the pain medication kicked in. Only a dribble of water ran down his chin this time, an improvement from when you first started doing this for him and you would both end up soaked.

Eddie had a hard time when he first left the hospital a few weeks ago with taking the pain medication. It reminded him of his fathers addiction too much. Eddie was always aware of the dangers of prescription pills, which was why he stuck to weed mostly. But after refusing to take them the pain became too much and he was crying and begging for them. You and him had come up with a good routine, you thought. It kept him on track without feeling like he was taking too many.

Eddie gulped the pill and water down, taking a deep breath of relief when he was able to breathe again.

“Physical therapy is gonna be proud,” you hummed as you set up his walker. The buttons clicking into place loudly throughout the mostly quiet room. Eddie didn’t say anything in reply, just a little nod of his head that you barely caught out the corner of your eye.

You put the walker in front of him, holding it down with force so he could pull himself up without it falling over or moving out of his grasp.

He shifted and shuffled, moving to the edge of the bed. It was too soon for the pain pills to completely kick in yet, but it was a little easier to move now that his body had warmed up some this morning.

With a quick 1,2,3 murmured under his breath he pushed himself up, latching onto the walker before his upper half could fall back onto the bed. He had to move around, even if it hurts.

Eddie had once dreamed about being in a shower with a pretty girl.

His dreams never included wound cleaning and a cold plastic shower chair though.

You stood behind Eddie, detachable shower head in hand as you wet his hair. The curls stretched out across the top of his back. His hair weighed down from the weight of the water. His hair always looked longer like this. It made him excited to grow it out even longer.

There had been a time when he got out of the hospital where he thought he was going to have to cut it all out.

Thanks to you, a whole bottle of conditioner, three combs, and a thing of detangling spray, you were able to save his hair.

It wasn’t just his hair though. You had saved a lot of parts of him since he’d woken up in that hospital bed. It made him emotional to think about the way you were so soft with him even when he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t know how to voice his thanks enough for you to understand how deeply grateful he was for you.

You worked the suds of the shampoo through the strands of hair. You took your time when you did this, making sure to rub his scalp in a way that sent tingles down his spine.

The feeling was becoming too much along with his already emotional thoughts of the morning. A few tears slipped out, trailing down his cheeks. They blended in with the water that already dripped off him from the shower head, disappearing down the drain where they would remain a secret. Eddie hated how much he cried now. It was always either from the pain or the guilt of having you care for him like this. He knew you didn't mind having to do everything for him. He knew one day he would be independent again. He just didn’t think he deserved a love like this.

After the shower, you dried his hair while he took care of drying his body. Always careful to not open any wounds. You applied the thick, strong smelling ointment to his injuries with precision before wrapping them in gauze and tape. It burnt when the smell of the medicine hit his nose. Wayne had tried to do this one time but he and Eddie couldn’t get the bandages to look as neat as you did.

Wayne felt bad about taking the back seat and letting you do all of this for his nephew. He felt like as a parent it was his responsibility. His back was bad though from years of working at the plant. After a day of helping Eddie, Wayne could hardly walk. After that, it was agreed that you would do all of the heavy lifting. Each day it became less tough with Eddie’s growing independence. It may seem small, but it was a massive improvement from when he first came home and couldn’t get out of the bed.

The toughest part of the day was over. Bathroom and hygiene needs were met, breakfast eaten, the rest of the morning pills down, and stretches prescribed by the physical therapist completed. Eddie sat back in the recliner, dozing off in front of the TV while you cleaned.

Usually you would sit with him and watch the talk shows he complained about but secretly loved. He craned his neck, trying to get a glance of you as you wiped down the kitchen table.

You must have felt his stare because you looked up at him, gracing him with a pretty smile.

“Come sit with me,” Eddie requested. “You’re doing too much.”

You dropped the rag on the table before making your way to him. “You feeling neglected in here?” You asked, a hint of humor in your voice.

Eddie let out a small laugh. His hand found yours as you stood beside where he sat. His rough hands rubbed against your soft ones. No matter how much lotion you slathered on him, the calluses from years of guitar playing just weren’t going to disappear.

“Our shows on,” he said, nodding his head at the TV.

“It is,” you said with a smile, pushing a stray strand of hair off his forehead. You would need to trim his bangs soon. That could be added onto the to do list for tomorrow.

“Come here,” he muttered, tugging on you as much as he could to bring you down into the recliner with him.

“Eddie,” you warned. “I can’t get in here with you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” he said as you carefully sat beside him, trying not to touch him.

Eddie used as much of his upper body as he could to position you closer. When you noticed he wasn’t going to give up, you scooted closer. Carefully placing your head on his shoulder.

“You’re doing better every day, Eds,” you whispered to him softly as his eyes grew heavy.

Eddie wasn’t sure how long he dozed off for. The sound of soft talking is what pulled him out of his dream. He reflectively patted beside him, looking for you. Only to find the spot empty but still warm.

He sighed as he stretched his limbs. The pain medicine from earlier were still in his system, helping to take the edge off.

“Wakey, wakey,” someone said from beside him. Eddie jerked slightly, not prepared to have a stranger so close to his face.

“Dustin,” you scolded, your voice farther away.

Eddie’s eyes focused on the face of his friend just inches away from his own.

“Henderson? What the hell are you doing?” Eddie questioned, leaning back slightly.

“It’s game night! Come on!” Dustin said enthusiastically, pulling the blanket off Eddie.

Eddie grumbled at the cold air hitting his skin. His arms automatically came up to cover his chest even though he had a tshirt on.

“Dustin!” You yelled, coming closer to intervene.

“What? I’m just going to help him up,” Dustin explained.

“I got it. Why don’t you help Steve with the pizza?” You begged.

Dustin walked away, mumbling about how Steve can’t even put some pizza on plates by himself.

Eddie looked up at you in question.

“Please don’t be mad,” you said softly so the visitors in the kitchen couldn’t hear you. “It was Dustin's idea. They just miss you so much.”

Eddie wasn’t mad at you. He just wasn’t ready. He hadn’t seen any one besides you or Wayne since he was discharged from the hospital. Everyone had called a few times to speak with him, and when they did he would pass the phone off to you so you could make an excuse for him.

It wasn’t like he was avoiding them or anything. He was just embarrassed to be seen like this.

You pulled the walker in front of the recliner so Eddie could get up.

“Do you need to go to the bathroom before we go sit in the kitchen?” You asked.

Eddie stared at you wide eyed, looking to make sure no one had heard you ask him that. He was used to you helping him to the toilet, but he didn’t want anyone else to know that. He shook his head quickly.

You caught on to what his look meant and snapped your mouth shut tightly.

Eddie pushed himself up from the recliner without warning and left the walker behind. You stuck a hand out to help him as he slowly walked to the kitchen table, wobbling without his extra support. He knew he would get an earful from you about it later but he didn’t want them to see him with the walker.

He held onto you as you helped ease him into the kitchen chair. A low sound of pain erupted from his throat without warning. Sitting in the kitchen chairs was the worst for him. You had put a pillow in the seat and behind his back but it was still hard.

Eddie looked up when he finally got situated to see all the eyes in the room on him.

“What?” He asked, the word came out snappier than he intended it to.

Steve was the first to speak up. “It’s just good to see you, man.”

Nancy nodded along. “It looks like you’re doing a lot better.”

Robin had a strange look on her face as she stared at Eddie. He raised a brow at her, telling her to go ahead and say what she wanted to say.

“You’re not wearing black,” she blurted out. “It’s weird. But, like, totally in a good way.”

Eddie looked down at his white t-shirt and gray sweatpants combination and he couldn't hold back the laugh that came out of him. The rest of the table seemed to relax at his reaction, letting out a few chuckles of their own. You stared at him worried.

“I got eaten by monster bats. I’m covered in bandages. I look like shit. I have to use a walker to get around. I can’t hardly do anything on my own. And you think the not wearing black is weird?” He finally asked through his laughs.

“We don’t care about that,” Mike spoke up. “We’re just happy you’re alive.”

Eddie sobered at this, looking around at all his friends sitting around the table. Some new and some old.

He felt like he belonged here with these people that he fought to save the world with. That he almost gave up his life for.

You reached over and squeezed his hand, noticing the emotion in his eyes.

“Wayne brought over some of your dungeon master stuff he was able to save from the trailer. I figured we could play some DnD tonight?” You said.

Eddie couldn’t help the smile that broke across his face.

Eddie still had it, even after over a month without touching DnD.

He relaxed into the bed, reminiscing on the night he had. Things were awkward at first until the ice finally broke and everyone was bickering and joking with each other again.

He could've played for hours longer but his body was screaming at him to rest. You finally made everyone go home, with plans to do this again next week.

You were laid beside him, eyes closing and drifting off into sleep.

“Thank you,” Eddie whispered into the darkness, hoping you were still awake enough to hear him.

You didn’t answer because you didn’t need to. You simply reached over and started to trace shapes across his arm. Eddie felt the words “I love you” being drawn across his skin.

“I love you,” he said out loud before sleep overtook him.

The next day, Eddie was able to do a little bit more and then even more the day after. Slowly but surely, he healed with you and his friends by his side.

#eddie munson au #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson series #eddie munson imagine #eddie stranger things #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson lives #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson request

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katemartinismywife · 22 days

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senior night - p.b

☺︎ paige bueckers x texas women's basketball player ☺︎ ☺︎ fluff ☺︎

"So you actually aren't coming?" Ryan asked her long term girlfriend Paige. "I can't make it mama, i'm so sorry" Paige was grateful that the two weren't on facetime. She was trying so hard to not tell the truth. Paige wasn't the best at lying, but she really wanted to give Ryan this special gift.

Ryan and Paige have been dating for over a little of four years. The two met while they were both at Overtime headquarters. After their first time talking they were inseparable. They had agreed to make long distance work and hope that one day their lives would settle, so they could move in together and start their lives.

Since basketball season has started they have barely seen each other since they were on different schedules. The last time they saw each other was when Ryan flew to Storrs for their game against Maryland. But that was back in November, it is now February.

Ryan had missed her girlfriend so much. It was beginning to hit her hard. All she wanted was to see her especially on her big day. "Are you at least going to watch?" Ryan sighed walking into the locker room. "I'm going out with the team tonight, but if it is on somewhere you know I will" Paige spoke trying to not break her heart more.

"I love you" Before Paige could respond Ryan hung up the call. Paige knew she was upset, but really hoped that this would work. She hated when her baby was unhappy. Paige was currently on her flight to Texas texting Ryan's sister about how much she hated hurting her.

Of course Paige couldn't do this big surprise by herself, so she allowed for KK and Auzi to come with her. Ryan loved the two girls, so it would be great for her to see them too.

Ryan slipped on her bose headphones and changed into her warm ups. "Ryan you okay?" Jordana asked her. Jordana Codio was her best friend on the team. "I'm good" Ryan smiled, but it never reached her eyes.

jordana: pb you got my girl stressing lol

pb: i love her sm

jordana: i'm excited for y'all 😭

It was officially time for senior night to begin. Ryan met up in the tunnel with her mom and her sister. Ryan was an a very emotional person, so she immediatly began crying. "Stop crying crazy, nothing has happened yet" Her sister laughed giving her a hug"

"Ryan Andrews"

Ryan began walking wiping her tears off her face and smiling as the crowd cheered. Finally being able to clear her eyesight, what she didn't expect to see was her girlfriend standing beside her head coach.

She stopped in her tracks with her hand over her mouth. Paige laughed walking up to her giving her a tight hug as Ryan broke down into tears. The love stricken crowd began to "aw". "Stop crying mama" Paige spoke wiping Ryan's tears off her face. "I want to kiss you so bad right now" She spoke quietly releasing her from the hug and holding her hand.

Coach Schaefer walked over to Ryan hugging her and giving her the microphone. "This is so awkward. Um, I just want to thank Coach S and all the rest of my amazing coaches for helping me improve throughout these four years. I have loved playing for this team. A huge thank you goes out to my mom, sister, and paige for helping me through all of the mental and physical breakdowns. I love you guys so much and I am not a cute crier, so I'm going to stop talking now" Ryan laughed hugging her coach again.

The crowd busted out into cheers and claps. "I am so proud of you" Her mom told her wiping her tears. "Thank you mommy" Ryan walked off the court hand in hand with her girlfriend. "You made me cry meanie" Ryan smiled nudging her girlfriend. "I'm sorry baby, but I wanted to surprise you on your big day" Paige pulled the girl into a hug placing a kiss on her forehead.

"Go win" Paige told her smiling at her.

TEXAS LONGHORNS W, 71-46

Right after the last buzzer Ryan ran right over to her girlfriend engulfing her into a hug. Ryan wrapped her legs around Paige's waist and secretly kissed the side of her neck. "You did so good mama" Paige smiled rocking the two side to side.

"Don't leave! I'm going to go take a quick shower and then I'll meet you out here" Ryan jumped off of her. Looking around making sure the coast is clear. She threw her hands around her neck kissing Paige's soft lips. "I love you" Paige spoke between kisses rubbing her hands up and down Ryan's back.

"don't go anywhere okay?"

"i'm not going anywhere" Ryan walked off smiling and throwing her arm around Jordana's shoulder. Paige watched the now overjoyed girl skip off to the locker room.

She really did find her person.

#wcbb #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn women’s basketball #texas woman's basketball #my ocs #fluff #pb #paige bueckers fluff

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onlycosmere · 1 month

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REGARDING AUDIBLE

Brandon Sanderson: Hey, all. Brandon here, with what I consider to be some pretty exciting news. Many of you may remember when I wrote last year about my worries regarding audiobook royalties (particularly for independent authors). You can read it HERE, but some of the main bullet points are as follows:

I seriously worried about the opacity of reporting to authors about audio sales. We didn’t know what a sale meant, how much of an Audible credit was given to authors when a book sold via one, and how royalties were being accounted.

I felt that the industry was taking advantage of authors because of their lack of powerful corporate interests to advocate for them. While video game creators and musicians get 70–80% (88%, in fact, on two major platforms) of a sale of their products in a digital platform, Audible was paying as low as 25%–with the high end being instead 40%.

I felt I could have gotten a better deal for myself, but the entire state of this industry was seriously concerning to me. So, I made the difficult decision NOT to release the four Secret Projects on Audible, costing me a large number of sales, to instead try to bolster healthy competition in the space, highlighting some of the smaller Audible competitors.

I hoped this wake-up call would prompt change. I didn’t refuse to put my books on Audible out of retribution or to declare war; I did it because I wanted to shine as powerful a light as I knew how on a system that highly favored the audio distributors over the authors. I was convinced that the people at Audible really did love books and writers, and that with the right stand taken, I could encourage them toward positive change.

I’m happy to say that this stand has borne some fruit. I’ve spent this last year in contact with Audible and other audio distributors, and have pushed carefully–but forcefully–for them to step up. A few weeks ago, three key officers high in Audible’s structure flew to Dragonsteel offices and presented for us a new royalty structure they intend to offer to independent writers and smaller publishers.

This new structure doesn’t give everything I’ve wanted, and there is still work to do, but it is encouraging. They showed me new minimum royalty rates for authors–and they are, as per my suggestions, improved over the previous ones. Moreover, this structure will move to a system like I have requested: a system that pays more predictably on each credit spent, and that is more transparent for authors. Audible will be paying royalties monthly, instead of quarterly, and will provide a spreadsheet that better shows how they split up the money received with their authors.

This part looked really good to me, as I understand their decisions. I tried poking holes in the system, looking for ways it could be exploited, and found each issue I raised had already been considered. This doesn’t mean it’s going to be perfect, and people smarter than me might still find problems that I didn’t. However, I think everyone is going to agree the new system IS better. We will better be able to track, for example, how Audible is dividing money between books purchased with a credit and books listened to as part of their Audible Plus program.

It’s all very technical, but I have to say I’m impressed with the effort they have made. The people there listened to my complaints, and have tried to improve. I’m not at liberty to explain in its entirety their new structure right now, as they’re still tweaking it, but they did say I could announce its existence–and that I could promise new, improved royalties are on the horizon.

Now, before we go too far, I do anticipate a few continuing issues with the final product. I want to manage expectations by talking about those below.

What I’ve seen doesn’t yet bring us to the 70% royalty I think is fair, and which other, similar industries get.

Audible continues to reserve the best royalties for those authors who are exclusive to their platform, which I consider bad for consumers, as it stifles competition. In the new structure, both exclusive and non-exclusive authors will see an increase, but the gap is staying about the same.

Authors continue to have very little (basically no) control over pricing. Whatever the “cover price” of books is largely doesn’t matter–books actually sell for the price of a credit in an Audible subscription. Authors can never raise prices alongside inflation. An Audible credit costs the same as it did almost two decades ago–with no incentive for Audible to raise it, lest it lose customers to other services willing to loss-lead to draw customers over.

These are things I’d love to see change. However, this deal IS a step forward, and IS an attempt to meet me partway. Indeed, even incremental changes can mean a lot. When I was new in this business, my agent spent months arguing for a two-percent change in one of my print royalties–because every little bit helps. These improvements are going to be larger than two-percent increases.

Because of this, I will be bringing the Secret Projects to Audible very soon. I consider Audible to again be a positive force for the industry, and I have decided to shake hands with them. Audible has promised to release their new royalty system for all authors sometime in 2024, though I should be testing it in the next month or so.

And…if you’ll allow me a moment, I’d like to say that this feels good. It isn’t what I wanted, but I’d begun to think that nothing would ever change–that even my voice, loud though it can be, wouldn’t be enough. Yet change IS possible.

I know that there are plenty of people out there who are tired of hearing about me and my works (I’m sorry–I do have quite the group of evangelists, and we can be an enthusiastic lot). However, for better or for worse, I am one of the bestselling authors in the world. Historically, one of the best ways to change things in my industry is for authors like myself to force it to happen.

Feeling this responsibility, when I was first talking to Audible about these issues in 2022, I made it very clear that I wasn’t just seeking some quiet deal that gave me an individual advantage. I wanted to see positive change for all authors. And while I don’t think I can take sole credit, I do feel like my efforts this year have had a significantly positive effect. Soon every independent author who publishes on Audible (and maybe, eventually, traditionally published authors with the huge publishers–depending on what New York decides) will be getting a larger cut of the profit, with more transparency about how that cut is allocated.

So, for those who have been waiting until Audible had the Secret Projects, you’ll get your chance soon. I hope you’ll support them, and support Audible for their decisions. And thank you to all of you who shared the news about my problems with the audio industry last year; I believe that pressure really did help. This is a victory for all of us, because happier authors able to make a better living (particularly those authors who are struggling in the midlist trenches) make for a more vibrant world for everyone.

#Brandon Sanderson #cfsbf #audible #branderson #root #wob #kind of #long post

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ceciliasxx · 1 year

Text

—:: Coffeeshop Romance

ln4 | instagram au

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: the world gets to watch as buying a coffee from a small, local coffee shop turns into blooming relationship between two people.

author’s note: coffeeshop aus will always have a special place in my heart because of how cute they are, especially because I work at a coffeeshop myself! 🫶

yourusername

liked by daylightcoffeeco and 1, 496 others

tagged: daylightcoffeeco

yoururername My second home with all my favorite people 🫶

lunaapulomaa y/nnnn you need to tell me when you’re working so I can come visit

— yourusername i’ll text you!

jasmines.garden quick question: do i still get free drinks if i come since i’m your favorite person in the world ?

— yourusername well duh

landonorris

liked by maxfewtrell, daylightcoffeeco, and 294, 385 others

tagged: maxfewtrell and daylightcoffeeco

landonorris Keeping it peaceful before the real work begins for the next race

maxfewtrell golf, golf, golf and more golf

— landonorris and even more gold

— view 81 more replies

daylightcoffeeco Thank you for visting! We hoped you enjoyed your drink, and we hope to see you visit again!

— view 4 replies

lalalandonorr f1 driver to professional golfer pipeline when

— wf1f1forever probably end of 2025

— view 27 replies

mclaren we miss you at the track 🏌️‍♂️🏎️

— view 13 replies

mcmclarensaretractors photographer lando making his return again

landonorris

liked by daylightcoffeeco and 416, 104 others

tagged: daylightcoffeeco

landonorris P5 with even more points on the board and some coffee to celebrate. Livin’ a good life

ln4 once again on the grind 💪

— view 25 replies

mclarenauto Keep up the hard work!

— ln4life you got this lando

— view 12 more replies

mcmcmcclaren congrats lando, the world championship is even closer!!

— view 6 replies

kennedywondra keep pushing lando 🧡

— view 1 reply

allison_harrmond surprised you made it to p5 in the mclaren tractor but congrats

— lizbizzz stop that’s outta pocket 😭

— view 28 replies

yourusername

liked by daylightcoffeeco and 835 others

tagged: daylightcoffeeco

yourusername may or may not be trying a drink recommendation from my maybe crush who frequently visits who i maybe am teaching how to make drinks 🫣

jasmines.garden your maybe what?? have you’ve been forgetting to tell me something???

— yourusername answer my ft rn

— jasmines.garden on it

daylightcoffeeco So, what was the rating on the drink then?

— yourusername 9.5/10

landonorris

liked by yourusername and 305, 194 others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris learning, improving, and having fun

ln4 lando retiring from being an f1 driver to become a barista? always count us in. 🧡

— view 24 replies

maxfewtrell interesting change in career

— landonorris wanna join?

— maxfewtrell sure mate

— view 38 more replies

mclarenauto What can’t Lando do?

— view 12 replies

liliana_casbelt i swear lando is just good at everything he tries

— trellastella no because literally

— view 2 more replies

starsaboveserena imagine walking into a coffee shop and your barista is lando norris

— mc2023laren i’d have a heart attack

— view 6 more replies

yourusername

liked by landonorris and 1, 017 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername I didn’t think this year would have simple drink recommendations turn into dates, but I’m not complaining at all 🥹

celesteslife4u totally not jealous of you not at all, and totally not crying

— yourusername dw you’ll always be #1

in my heart

landonorris i’m finally unblocked, let’s gooooo

— andibandi @/yourusername you had

your boyfriend blocked??

— yourusername for a little bit, in my

defense, it was before we were dating

because i was too embarrassed to let

him see my posts

daylightcoffeeco Aw, what a cute couple, we’re so happy we were able to help your relationship flourish!

— yourusename <3

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #f1 imagine #f1 instagram au #lando norris x y/n #lando norris insta au #lando norris imagine #f1 x reader #f1

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spnhunter4life · 1 year

Text

Familiar

Summary: Sam, Dean and Y/N are on a case, and it turns out Y/N is just the monster's type.

Word Count: 8.2k

Warnings: reference to nonconsensual sex, canon typical violence

A/N: I've had this one done for a couple of weeks, but things have been very busy and so I just finally got around to doing a reread/edit of it. I hope everyone enjoys it!

This one includes the writing prompt "character A flipping positions and shoving B against a wall 'now this seems more familiar doesn’t it?'"

I don't remember where I found this. I have a list of prompts I saved, but didn't include who posted them, so if you happen to know where this came from, let me know and I'll give credit to that person.

Also, I've had someone ask me to be tagged in new stories I post. I am happy to do this, so if anyone else is interested in being tagged, let me know!

Masterlist

I met the Winchesters for the first time five years ago when I was 22. I was in college and had just moved to a new dorm building that turned out to be haunted by a ghost. I had been the next intended target when Dean and his dad stepped in and saved me. That was the last time I would see either of them for a long time, but I never forgot the faces of the people who had saved my life.

After that experience, I was obsessed with the supernatural. Dean and I had talked a little bit before they left town, and he told me about how he and his dad traveled the country killing monsters. I wanted to do that too. I wanted to be able to save people’s lives the way they had saved mine.

So a couple months later I dropped out of school and started getting ready to hunt. I signed up for a gym membership and started going everyday as well as taking boxing and Krav Maga lessons. My life had given very little opportunity for me to build muscle or learn to fight. But I wasn’t stupid enough to go into a fight with a supernaturally strong creature completely unprepared.

I gave myself a year to get in shape and learn to defend myself. During this time, I put every spare minute I had into research. I looked into what kinds of monsters were out there, how to kill them, which ones were most common. While doing all this research, I ran into a man named Bobby Singer. He had all kinds of helpful information and taught me how to track them down. I started the process of purchasing weapons I would need and also saving up money.

Once I felt ready, I set off on my first hunt. The overwhelming satisfaction I felt at saving a person from the ghost that had been haunting them was too much to ignore. I knew without a doubt now that this is what I should be doing with my life. So I went on another hunt. And another.

Things were a little rough going at first and I got more injuries than I cared to admit – fighting a trained professional in a controlled environment wasn’t the same as going up against an angry monster – but my fighting skills improved and things started going smoother soon enough. I didn’t regret my choices.

I ran into Dean a little over a year later. I was looking into what I suspected to be a witch and had stopped for lunch at a local burger joint when I saw him. I recognized him immediately and went to talk to him. It took a little bit for him to remember me, but he did. When he asked what I was doing so far from home, I told him what I’d been up to since the day he saved my life. He seemed surprised and impressed. Apparently the people he saved didn’t often take up hunting afterwards.

When I asked after his dad, he told me that they were starting to work separate cases on occasion. They still hunted together too, but not as often.

Since we were both in town for the same reason, we agreed to work the case together. It was difficult at times, learning to rely on another person and factor their thoughts and opinions into what we were doing. I’d never hunted with someone else before. In other ways, though, it was so much easier. I decided I kind of liked having a partner. Dean and I worked well together.

He must have thought so too, because the day after we finished that hunt, he asked if I wanted to come with him to look into a string of suspicious murders a couple states over. I’d been hunting with him – and occasionally his dad – ever since.

About nine months into our new arrangement, his dad went missing and so we picked up his brother Sam from school to help find him. Adding him to the mix had been another adjustment. That was two years ago now though, and we’d all found an easy rhythm together.

“We should go check this out,” Dean said, sliding the newspaper he’d been looking at across the table to Sam and pointing at one of the articles.

We were at a diner waiting for our breakfast to be brought out. Sam scanned the article.

“I don’t know, Dean,” Sam said, passing the newspaper to me when I motioned for it. I skimmed the article Dean had found.

“Come on, Sam. Three murder suicides in under two weeks. That’s weird,” Dean insisted.

“It is weird. I just don’t see how it’s our kind of weird,” Sam answered.

“Y/N? What do you think? You agree with me, don’t you?” Dean asked, confident I’d back him up. We typically saw things pretty eye to eye. Not always though.

“Well, actually I agree with Sam. There’s nothing here that really makes it sound like our kind of thing. But,” I continued, saying the word a little louder to stop Dean’s protest. “It’s only a few hours away and we have nothing else to do right now. So we might as well go check it out.”

“Alright, fine,” Sam agreed, sighing at the triumphant look on Dean’s face. “But I really think we’re wasting our time.”

“Right. Because we’ve got much more important, productive things going on here,” Dean said sarcastically.

“It’s never a waste of time,” I said. “Even if it ends up being nothing, making sure people aren’t being killed by something supernatural isn’t a waste. What if we decide it’s not worth checking out and it turns out it is our kind of thing? Then those deaths would be on us.”

“Ok, yes, you’re right. I already said we could go check it out,” Sam said.

“Well thanks for the permission, Sammy. I really don’t think we could’ve moved forward without it,” Dean snarked.

“Bite me,” Sam answered.

“Alright, cut it out you two,” I scolded.

The waiter brought our food out and we spent the meal trying to come up with ideas of what we could be dealing with. We didn’t come up with much since we had so little information to go off of. Dean paid our bill and we were just heading out the door when something occurred to me.

“Oh! What if it’s a siren?” I suggested.

“A siren? From Greek mythology? Like in The Odyssey?” Dean asked.

“What?” Sam looked at his brother in surprise.

“What?” Dean asked, a little smug and a little offended.

“What do you know about sirens?” Sam asked me, moving past his shock at Dean’s knowledge.

“Not much,” I admitted. We reached the car and I climbed into my usual spot behind Sam. “All the vics have been couples though, right?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Dean confirmed, turning in his seat to face me. “Is that important?”

“All I really know about sirens is that once they infect you they convince you to kill someone you love. The only siren case I’ve heard of had several husbands killing their wives before it was stopped. So maybe in this case once the men realize what they’ve done, they kill themselves.”

“Seems like the best theory we’ve come up with,” Dean said. He backed the Impala out of the parking spot and headed out of town towards the highway.

“Let’s get there and do some digging around before we settle on a theory,” Sam cautioned. “But say you’re right. How do we kill it?”

“I don’t know. I’ve already given you the extent of my knowledge on the subject.”

“Okay. Well at least we have a starting point. We can look into it more if that still seems like the most likely scenario after we’ve investigated things a little bit,” Sam said.

Apparently deeming the conversation finished, Dean turned up the music. I leaned my head against the window and watched the road blurring by.

~~~~~

The bar we were at was crowded, the music was loud, and the guy I was talking to was cute. Not stop and stare cute, but cute enough that when he came over to where I was standing at the bar and started flirting, I flirted back.

“So how long are you in town for?” Cute guy asked. I vaguely noted Dean in my peripheral vision, making his way to the bar. If I’d been paying attention, I would have noticed how irritated he looked. But I was trying not to notice him. He and I were just friends and would never be more. I’d accepted that. It meant I couldn’t let myself be distracted by him when there was a guy standing right in front of me who was interested.

“Don’t know yet,” I answered, giving him my best flirty smile. “I’m definitely here for the night though.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Dean interrupted. “Come on Y/N. Sam’s waiting for us.”

“Woah, hey, come on man,” cute guy protested. “You can’t just come in here and force her to leave. We were in the middle of a conversation.”

“You were, were you? Sorry pal, but we’ve got important things to do. Go find someone else to bother.” Dean grabbed my arm and pulled me with him, away from the bar and towards the exit.

“Dean!” I hissed as I was forced to follow along behind him. “What is your problem?” I asked when we made it outside.

“What’s my problem?” Dean echoed, letting go of my arm and turning to face me. “What’s your problem? You know what we’re after here. What made you think it was a good idea to offer to go home with some random guy who for all we know could be the siren?”

I scoffed and started to walk towards the car, but Dean grabbed me again and pushed me up against the building. He stepped in close and put an arm on either side of my head, effectively caging me in.

“What are you doing?” I asked. It didn’t sound quite as irritated as I wanted it to. His close proximity mixed with the few drinks I’d downed had me too overwhelmed to hold on to my anger.

“Next time you’re wanting to scratch an itch in the middle of a case where the monster we’re after seduces people into murder, just save us the trouble and come to me instead,” he instructed. Then before I knew what was happening, he leaned in and kissed me.

I gasped in surprise and he used the opportunity to lick into my mouth. Finally catching up to what was happening, I wrapped my arms around his neck, threading my fingers through his hair and eagerly kissing him back. I never could have predicted this, but I was so thrilled it was happening.

He made his way to my neck. He kissed a couple of different spots before finding a spot he liked and starting to suck and nip-

I woke up with a jolt and a gasp. I quickly took in my surroundings and realized I’d fallen asleep in the back of the Impala.

“You ok?” Dean asked, turning in his seat to look at me. I realized we were parked outside a motel. The engine turning off must have been what woke me. I briefly met his eyes and was immediately bombarded with the images from my dream.

“Yeah,” I told him. I managed to successfully fight the blush that tried to rise in the presence of the very man I’d just been dreaming about. It wasn’t the first time I’d had this sort of dream about the older Winchester. I doubted it would be the last.

Dean went inside to get us a room. We unloaded our bags and made a plan. We decided the boys would drop me off at the police station to talk to the sheriff while they went to question the medical examiner. We would meet at a diner a few blocks away from the police station when we were done.

“What’s the connection between all of these people?” I asked Sheriff Jones once I’d introduced myself and explained why I was there.

“Connection?” He asked.

“Yeah. This many murder suicides in this short of a time, there’s something going on here. Maybe you’re wrong about the suicide part and it’s just flat out murder. Maybe it’s some sort of messed up pact these people made. There has to be something that connects them though. So what is it?”

“As far as we can tell, there is no connection between any of them. Sometimes these things just happen,” he said.

“How long have you been sheriff?” I asked. He was starting to get up in age, probably in his mid to late 50s at a guess. I assumed he’d been a police officer for a long time.

“Almost 20 years,” he informed me proudly.

“And in those 20 years, how many times have you seen something like this? Three different couples killing each other and themselves. One after another.”

“Well… never,” he admitted.

“Right. So what’s the connection? Graduated from the same high school? Go to the same gym? In a bowling league together? There has to be something that connects them other than them all being married.”

“Actually, they weren’t all married,” Jones corrected.

“I was told they were,” I said.

“The last couple wasn’t. They were roommates, but as far as I’m aware, that’s as far as the relationship went.”

Damn. Did this throw a wrench in my siren theory? Not necessarily. Just because they weren’t together doesn’t mean one of them wasn’t secretly in love with the other. Or maybe they were really close and loved each other in a non romantic way.

“Great. I’m gonna need a list of close family and friends of all the victims,” I requested.

“What for?” He asked.

“To find the connection. You figure out the pattern, you have a chance of stopping it from happening again,” I said frustratedly. How were these idiots not investigating this further? Did they really believe it was just all a coincidence?

Jones gave me a list of names and I left. I scanned the list on my walk to the diner, trying to figure out where to start and how long it might take to talk to these people. I rounded a corner and ran into an extremely attractive man.

“Sorry!” I apologized as he nearly spilled the coffee he was carrying.

“No worries,” he said, flashing a charming smile. “No harm done.”

Had I not spent every day of the past three years sharing close quarters with the most attractive man I’d ever seen in my life, I might have been caught off guard and turned into a mumbling mess. But my time with Dean mixed with the quick thinking and lying that was sometimes necessary for hunting meant I was able to keep it together.

“Still. I should have been watching where I was going.”

“Well in that case, I was just on my way to get some lunch. How about you make it up to me by coming with?” He offered. It only took me a few seconds of consideration to make a decision.

“Sorry, but I’m busy. I’m on my way to meet a couple of colleagues for a kind of work lunch,” I told him.

“Ah. Well, maybe next time,” he smiled.

“Maybe,” I agreed, knowing there wouldn’t be a next time. I sighed as I continued my walk to the diner. He was awfully good looking. Under different circumstances, I probably would have taken him up on his offer.

I walked the last couple of blocks and noted that the familiar black car wasn’t in the parking lot. I went in, found an open table that would fit all three of us, and sat down. I had to wait about ten minutes before Sam and Dean walked in.

“Hey. What did you find out?” I asked once they were seated.

“Not much. There wasn’t anything unusual about the bodies as far as anyone could tell. The ME did say that based on the most recent body, she wondered if the suicides weren’t actually suicides though. She’s looking over the other two bodies again to see if it could have been staged to look like a suicide,” Sam told me.

“That qualifies as not much to you?” I asked. “I mean, granted it doesn’t really up the weird factor. But what if they missed something else too? Something they wouldn’t know to look for?”

“That’s exactly what I said,” Dean said smugly.

“Whatever. I’m not having this discussion again,” Sam told his brother as the waiter came over. We rattled off our orders to him and waited for him to leave before continuing.

“Did you find anything?” Sam asked.

“No. I do have a list of people for us to talk to though,” I answered. I took the list out of the pocket I’d tucked it into after folding it up and handed it to Sam.

“What, the cops have a suspect list?” Dean asked.

“No,” I snorted. “Whether or not this ends up being our kind of case, I feel bad for the people in this town. Their idiot sheriff doesn’t even think it’s worth looking into. It’s an open and shut case as far as he’s concerned.”

“What’s your list then?” Dean questioned, leaning over to read over Sam’s shoulder.

“Close family and friends,” I answered. “I’m hoping we can figure out what connects them all.”

“Right,” Sam said. “It’s not like we can monitor every single married couple in this town on the off chance they might get murdered.”

“Actually, they weren’t all married,” I told him. “I guess the last two were just roommates.”

“There goes the siren theory,” Dean sighed.

“Not necessarily. It still could be,” I said.

“How?”

“Sirens don’t target married people specifically,” I explained. “They just make you kill someone you love.”

“So you’re saying they were living together as friends but secretly in love?” Dean asked.

“Maybe. Or maybe not. Love doesn’t have to be romantic.”

The waiter brought out our food and we made a plan as we ate. Dean wanted to check out the crime scenes first. Sam argued that we might get more information from talking to people. I wanted to side with Dean because I really wasn’t looking forward to interviewing ten different people, but I had to agree with Sam. Might as well get this part out of the way. We could look at the victims’ houses after.

~~~~~

Several hours and too many interviews full of crying loved ones later, we stood in our motel room going over the information we’d gathered today. The ME had called an hour ago and confirmed that it was flat out murder, not murder suicide. We hadn’t gotten any useful information out of any of the people we talked to today though, and we were all a little frustrated.

“Alright, well the roommate vics were extremely close,” Sam recapped, thinking out loud. “Which means Y/N’s theory on them loving each other pans out, leaving a siren as the most likely culprit. But how are we supposed to find it? We still don’t have anything that links these people together,” Sam grumbled.

“And why is it killing people?” I added. “Usually they leave the killing to their victims. Maybe we missed something.”

“Or,” Dean cut in, standing up from the chair he’d been in. “We'll find the answers we need at the crime scenes. Which I said we should look at four hours ago.”

“Yeah, Dean. We know,” Sam snapped.

“Let’s just figure out our next step,” I interjected.

“Maybe we should do some research on sirens. It would be easier to track it if we can figure out where they live, how they make people do what they want, that sort of thing,” Sam suggested.

“C’mon Sam, we’ve spent all day doing research on the victims. Now you’re telling me you want to do more research?” Dean complained. “What we should do is go to their houses. I’m telling you, if we want answers, that’s where we’ll find them.”

“Maybe, but we still have to know what we’re up against,” Sam pointed out. “Why don’t you and Y/N go check out the houses. I’ll stay here and research,” he suggested.

“Fine. Let’s go,” Dean said, satisfied with this compromise. He went outside and I heard the Impala’s engine roar to life a few seconds later.

Sam grabbed his laptop and settled in to work while I grabbed my coat.

“Let us know if you find anything,” I said. Sam assured me he would and then I followed Dean out the door.

We decided to split up to cover ground faster. Dean would drop me off at the first house and head to the second house himself. When he was done there he would pick me up and we would look at the last place together.

Dean parked outside the first house, a small blue one with a row of flowers planted along the front of it.

“I’ll call you when I’m on my way back,” he told me as I was getting out of the car. He drove away and I walked into the house, ducking under the police tape strung up on the door.

The first room I walked through was the kitchen. Other than a few unwashed dishes in the sink, it was spotless. I knew the murders had happened in the bedroom, so I didn’t expect to see much in the rest of the house, but I was looking for any sort of clue that would lead us to the siren. I took a quick look at the pictures on the fridge but didn’t see anything that would help.

The next room was the living room which was also clean. A cursory scan of the room told me these two were huge movie fans. There were several movie posters hanging up on the walls, an entertainment center overflowing with DVDs, and a little box full of old movie tickets. I didn’t know how this could be a connection with the other couples, but it was clearly a big part of their lives, so it was worth making a mental note of. Other than that, I didn’t see much. A brochure for a yoga class stuck underneath a pile of magazines on the coffee table. A framed picture of the two skiing was hanging on the wall. I noticed a coffee mug with what I assumed was the name of a local bar printed on the side. I made another mental note of both the yoga class and the bar just in case.

Then I moved on to the bedroom. Even if I hadn’t known ahead of time what happened in here, it would have been pretty clear. There was a bloodstain on the bed and the blankets were rumpled, like there had been a struggle on top of them. One of the pillows was knocked on the floor. The nightstand on the left side of the bed had been knocked over, a picture frame shattered beside it. And there was a second blood stain on the cream carpet.

I braced myself, turning off the part of my brain that wanted to be horrified and turn away from the scene. I looked around the room for any sort of clue as to who the siren might be or where it might have gone. It would be a lot easier if I knew what exactly I was looking for. Sam was right. We should have done the research first.

After thoroughly searching the bedroom and the bathroom and finding nothing, I made my way back out of the house. I wasn’t quite ready to give up yet, but I was getting more doubtful that this wasn’t something the real FBI should be handling. I stepped back outside and saw the cute guy from earlier walking past. He heard the door close behind me and looked over.

“Oh, it’s you,” I said. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he answered as I walked towards him. “I do believe that’s a crime scene you just walked out of. Not exactly legal.”

“It is when you’re FBI,” I told him, pulling out my badge. It identified me as agent Y/N Perry.

“That explains why I haven’t seen you around before,” he said, not seeming overly surprised by the news.

“What are you doing here?” I asked again.

“I live next door,” he told me. “I didn’t really know them. Terrible what happened though.”

“It is,” I agreed. My phone rang and I took it out of my pocket, seeing Sam’s name on the screen. I excused myself to answer it.

“Hey, Sam. What did you find?”

“Have you heard from Dean?” He asked urgently.

“No, why?” I asked, immediately worried. Before he could answer, everything went dark.

~~~~~

Sam’s POV

“What do you got, Sam?” Dean asked immediately upon answering my call.

“Not much, but I think I’m starting to figure out more about this siren,” I told him. I hadn’t had time to gather much information yet, but what I had found mixed with a quick phone call to the ME was starting to clear things up.

“Like what?”

“So get this. When sirens… put you under their spell or whatever, it leaves high levels of a hormone called oxytocin in your blood.”

“So?”

“So, I called the ME and asked her about it. There were high traces in three of the victims. The female victims. For whatever reason, this siren is going after the women, not the men.”

“Son of a bitch! Please tell me you called Y/N before you called me,” Dean said.

“Why? Aren’t you together?”

“No,” Dean growled out in a tone of voice that suggested stress and frustration. “We split up to move faster.”

“Alright. Well don’t worry. I’m sure she’s fine. I’ll call her now,” I said, trying to calm him.

“I’m going back to get her. I’ll call her on the way.”

Before I could argue that he was already worked up enough and should just focus on driving I heard a thump, Dean grunting, and then the sound of his phone clattering on the ground.

“Dean!” I yelled. No response. I hung up and headed outside. I needed to find a car. Once I had one ready to go, I started driving to the closest address on the list.

~~~~~

Y/N’s POV

The first thing that registered in my mind was the way my body was shaking. I heard a distant voice calling my name as consciousness slowly found me. It took a few seconds for me to fully wake up and process what was happening. The shaking was due to the hand on my shoulder, trying to jostle me into consciousness. The voice was Dean’s, and it wasn’t distant. It was right in front of me.

My head was pounding. I tried to remember what happened. I was outside waiting for Dean. Sam called. Then what?

“Y/N!” Dean said a little louder. I opened my eyes and immediately closed them again, hissing at the pain that shot through my skull from the bright light in the room. Someone must have hit me over the head. Who? No one else had even been around. Except for that guy I bumped into earlier. He must be the siren then.

I felt a surge of frustration at my stupidity. How did I miss it? I knew it was weird that he just happened to be outside that house.

“C’mon. We should get out of here,” Dean encouraged, pulling me to my feet.

“Just a minute,” I pleaded as a wave of dizziness rushed over me upon standing. I braced my hand on the wall beside me.

“What happened?” He asked. “You didn’t answer the phone.”

Once the dizziness passed, I slowly opened my eyes. The pounding in my head was intense, but it was more manageable when I took things slow.

“Where is he?” I asked.

“Who, the siren? Dead,” he told me. That was good news I guess. I didn’t know how much help I’d be in a fight right now. He was almost entirely supporting my weight. Then something occurred to me.

“How?” I asked, looking up at his face. “We don’t know how to kill them.”

“Well I had a machete with me. I couldn’t walk in here completely defenseless. When I saw him standing over you, I cut his head off. Apparently that’s all it takes,” he explained.

I looked around the room, searching for the body, and realized this was the house of the first murdered couple. We were in the living room.

“He brought me in here?” I asked.

“Well. It was close by. And there isn’t much chance of anyone walking in. Made it easy for me to find you, too. How are you feeling? Ready to go?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’m good,” I told him. My head was still pounding, but the dizziness was gone.

“Good,” he said, carefully turning me to face him. “I was really worried about you.” Then he kissed me.

I so badly wanted to be able to enjoy this. I’d dreamed about it so many times but never imagined I’d ever build up the courage to tell him how I felt. Or that my feelings would be reciprocated.

I placed one hand on the back of his neck and gave myself a couple of seconds to be sure my balance was good. Then in one quick motion I stepped to the side and used the hand around his neck to shove him face first into the wall.

“Ow! What the hell?!” He yelled, clutching a hand to his bleeding nose.

“Where’s Dean?” I asked, watching closely for any indication he was about to run or attack.

“I am Dean!” He insisted. He held a hand out placatingly and took a step towards me.

“Stay back,” I warned him. I reached into my boot and grabbed the silver knife I kept there at all times. “I know a shapeshifter when I see one.”

He dropped his hands and stood up straighter, a cocky smile gracing his mouth. He started to walk in a slow circle around me.

“What gave me away?” He asked casually.

“A few things,” I answered, rotating my body to keep him directly in front of me at all times.

“Like?”

“Where’s Dean?” I asked again.

“Oh, he’s fine for now. Just a little tied up at the moment,” he smirked.

I lunged for him, hoping to catch him by surprise. He easily blocked the knife I had aimed directly at his heart and threw a punch that caught me in the stomach. The force of the blow knocked the breath out of me, but I recovered quickly and slashed out with the knife at the hand that was reaching for my hair. He hissed in pain and quickly withdrew his hand.

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” the fake Dean growled. “You know you can’t win. Might as well save yourself some of the pain.”

My head was killing me and the dizziness was threatening to return and become a very serious problem. I waited for his next attack. I didn’t have to wait long. I saw his muscles tense to move and then he closed the distance between us quickly.

He reached out for the hand that was holding the knife, trying to force it out of my grip without touching it. I took advantage of the way he focused on the knife to kick his knee as hard as I could. His knee buckled and I used all the strength I had to push him into the wall behind him. I pressed the knife to his throat.

“Where is Dean?” I demanded.

“What gave me away?” He asked again. I couldn’t believe the arrogance. Did he really not care about anything but the fact that I’d seen through him?

“I’m not going to ask again,” I threatened, pressing the knife just a little harder into his skin. “Where is he?”

“Quid pro quo,” he offered. “Answer my question, I’ll answer yours.”

I seriously debated just killing him, but decided to humor him just this once. He wasn’t going anywhere and I’d get the answer out of him one way or another.

“First of all, Dean wouldn’t just sit there waiting for me to wake up. He would have just carried me out. Secondly, he has a scratch on his jaw that hasn’t healed all the way yet. That particular scratch is missing from your face. Third, if he’s not sure which weapon to bring with, he always chooses his gun. Silver kills a lot of things, so it’s usually the safest bet. Also, where’s the body? You said you killed the siren, but there isn’t a body. And as far as that goes, you don’t have a machete either.”

“Hmm. You’re observant,” he said. “Not observant enough though. Otherwise you probably would have seen this coming.”

His hand shot up and grabbed my wrist, pushing the knife away from his neck. He pressed hard on the tendons there until I was forced to drop the knife. Then he spun us around, pressing me up against the wall. He pinned both of my wrists to the wall and leaned in close, his breath brushing my face.

“Now this seems more familiar, doesn’t it?” He smiled.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I spat.

“No?” He mocked, pressing his cheek to mine and talking directly into my ear. “You’ve never dreamed about Dean pressing you into the nearest wall and kissing you breathless? I think you have. Many times. As recently as just a few hours ago.”

I whipped my head to the side to look at him. He grinned triumphantly.

“That’s right. I’ve been inside your head. I know exactly how you feel about this pretty boy of yours.”

I bristled at the way he had stolen Dean’s face, tried to use it against me, and was now flaunting that fact.

“You don’t know anything,” I spat. He just continued as if I hadn’t said anything.

“That’s why I chose you. It was pure coincidence running into you, but you’re a very attractive woman, so I figured I’d give it a shot.”

“Give what a shot? Murder? News flash, you’ve already done that. I’d suggest branching out and finding a new hobby.” I pushed lightly against his hands, testing the possibility of breaking free. That wasn’t an option. He was holding on tight, and I wouldn’t be able to beat him in a battle of strength.

He smiled and kept ignoring me.

“You see, I had to turn into you first to get in your head and see if you fit what I was looking for. It was a shock, of course, to find out that you’re a hunter. But it turns out you did fit my needs, and you and your friends were so far off the mark, I knew I’d be safe enough.”

“What do you mean, I fit your needs?” I asked. I had a plan to escape his hold, but as long as he was content to talk, I wanted answers.

“Well you’re in love of course,” he said.

“So?” I didn’t bother denying it. Like he said, he’d already been in my head.

“So,” he answered as if I was being extremely stupid. “Isn’t it so much better being with someone when you’re in love?”

I felt my brow wrinkle in confusion. Being with someone? What was he talking about? What did it have to do with murder?

I felt a wave of horror and disgust wash over me as I understood his meaning. He’d posed as the men the women were in love with and slept with them before murdering them both.

“If it’s any consolation, they died happy,” he told me. “Well,” he amended. “The women did, anyway.”

“So what?” I snarled. “You thought you’d come in here looking like Dean and I’d just take my clothes off for you? Just like that?”

“Well, not just like that. But I figured you’d be willing enough once I had some time to convince you.”

I remembered how he had kissed me before. I assume that was the kind of convincing he was referring to.

“We still could, you know,” he offered. He brushed his lips gently against mine and I jerked away. “You can pretend I’m him and I’ll give you what you’ve always wanted.”

“Right before you kill me, you mean?”

“Well obviously I can’t let you live,” he said.

“I think I’ll pass,” I said. I drove my knee up as hard as I could into his crotch. He may not have been entirely human, but he still went down as hard as any human man.

I dropped down to pick up my knife, doing my best to ignore the pain the quick movement caused in my head. I didn’t give the shapeshifter time to recover. I immediately turned to him and drove the knife into his heart. He gasped in shock and pain and then collapsed, unmoving.

I rose to my feet and made my way – a little unsteadily – out of the house. I was pretty sure I had a concussion and that fight had taken all the strength and energy I could muster. As I stepped out of the house, a car came screeching down the road and parked next to the only other car on the street. I didn’t know if I could really handle it, but I prepared myself for another fight.

The driver door opened and a tall man stepped out. Sam, I realized when he called my name. And the car he was in was the Impala. How had he gotten it? Sam ran over to me and put a steadying hand on my shoulder.

“Are you ok? What happened?” He asked.

“Where’s Dean?” I asked, ignoring his questions.

“I don’t know. I’ve been looking for both of you,” Sam said. “I found Dean’s car at the second house, but no sign of him. I was hoping I’d find him here with you.”

Just then we heard a muffled banging noise coming from the other car on the street.

“Stay here,” Sam told me, drawing his gun as he walked towards it. I was in no position to argue seeing as the dizziness was returning and I was struggling to keep my balance. He stopped by the trunk of the car. “Dean?”

“Sam! Get me out of here,” I heard Dean say from inside.

“Just a second,” Sam breathed out in relief. He tucked his gun back into his jeans and went around to the front of the car in search of the keys. He pulled them out of the ignition and then opened the trunk. Dean jumped out, fuming. He was down to just jeans and a t-shirt, the shifter having stolen the rest of his usual layers.

“Where is it? I’m gonna kill it,” he seethed, marching towards the house. He paused momentarily when he saw me swaying on the sidewalk and then hurried over to me. He wrapped my arm around his shoulders and put his own around my waist to help me stay balanced.

“What happened? Did the siren do something to you? Where is it?” He asked.

“It was a shapeshifter, not a siren,” I told both him and Sam who had followed close behind his brother.

“Was?” Sam questioned.

“It’s dead,” I said.

“That explains why my clothes are gone,” Dean said irritatedly. “Why is it that we seem to be leaving behind a trail of shapeshifter bodies wearing my face?”

“Well, you’re an objectively good looking guy. Maybe they just can’t resist all the girls they know they’ll get with a face like that,” I teased.

“Alright, well you’re obviously in even worse shape than I thought,” Dean said, half teasing half genuinely worried. I guess I haven’t ever said anything to him before about him being attractive. This concussion was loosening my tongue apparently. “Sam, you mind getting the body? I’m gonna get Wobbly here to the car.”

“Why can’t we just leave it?” Sam asked.

“Because I want my clothes back for one thing,” Dean replied. “And for another, I don’t want to be blamed for yet another set of murders.”

“Good point,” Sam agreed. He headed for the house.

Dean turned us towards the car and the movement caused me to trip a little on my own feet. The adrenaline was fading away, leaving me helpless to fight off the dizziness that I thought had disappeared.

Rather than let me stumble my way to the car, Dean moved the arm he had around my waist a little higher on my back and put his other arm under my knees, scooping me up in his arms and carrying me. I couldn’t be bothered to keep my head held up and rested it against his chest.

“What happened?” he asked, referring to my balance issues.

“He caught me by surprise and hit me over the head. I think I have a concussion.”

“You thought he was me, so you didn’t see it coming,” Dean said. He adjusted my weight so he was able to open the car door.

“No. He looked like someone else. I turned my back to take a call and he hit me. When I woke up he was pretending to be you,” I explained.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he sighed as he gently set me down, careful not to hit my head.

“Why?” I wondered.

“He took me out too. Only I didn’t even know he was there. If I’d been paying attention better, I could have stopped him before he got to you,” Dean said, ashamed.

“Not everything is your fault, you know,” I told him. I saw Sam step out of the house, a large body tossed over his shoulder. “This isn’t on you. And it doesn’t matter anyway. It’s over.”

I could tell he didn’t agree with me and he would beat himself up over this for a while. But he left to open the trunk for Sam and I was too exhausted to try and convince him otherwise.

~~~~~

An hour later Sam was watching over me while Dean went to take care of the body. I sat on the lumpy couch and held a bag of frozen peas to the back of my head in an attempt to bring down the swelling. I’d taken Ibuprofen as soon as we got to the motel and both the headache and the dizziness were slowly starting to fade. I’m sure finally sitting still helped the situation too.

“Why do you think it killed them?” Sam wondered aloud. “I mean, how did he choose his victims?”

“He chose women that he considered beautiful and that were in love. He turned into the man they loved and when he was done with them, he killed them,” I answered even though he hadn’t actually been expecting an explanation.

“He told you?” He asked, surprised.

“In way too much detail,” I said.

He was quiet for a moment.

“You know what I don’t get? If it wasn’t a siren then where did the oxytocin come from?”

“The what?” I asked.

“Oxytocin. It’s a hormone that sirens infect you with,” he explained. “Actually, Dean was on his way to warn you when he got ambushed. I told him that all the women had high levels and so it looked like they were the ones being targeted.”

My face drained of blood at the reminder of what that thing had done to those women. Of what he’d tried to do to me.

“I know what it is,” I told him. “And it’s not specific to sirens. It’s a naturally occurring hormone in the body. Ever heard of the love hormone?” At his nod I continued. “It occurs during childbirth, breastfeeding… and sex. That’s why he wanted women that were in love. He said it’s so much better that way.”

Understanding showed on his face alongside a mix of horror and protective anger.

“Y/N… he didn’t?”

“No,” I assured him quickly. “Not me anyway. I figured out what he was too quickly.”

Relief replaced the other emotions on his face and he stayed silent as he processed this new information. Then he wrinkled his brow in confusion.

“You said he chose women that were in love,” he said.

“Yeah,” I confirmed.

“So why did he go after you?”

I was practiced enough at hiding my feelings for the older Winchester from both brothers that I didn’t even have to hesitate to come up with an explanation.

“I guess he found me attractive. Per his usual pattern, he turned into me to see if I was in love with anyone and found out pretty quickly that I’m a hunter.”

“Then why did he turn into Dean?” He asked.

“He was pretending to rescue me,” I answered.

“Right, but why? What’s the point? If he wanted you dead, he had the chance. There was no reason for him to mess with you that way.”

I didn’t have a reasonable explanation for this, so I stayed quiet.

“He wasn’t just going after you because you’re a hunter. You fit the profile he was after and he wanted to-” he cut himself off and considered his wording. “He wanted to… complete his usual pattern. Because you’re in love with Dean,” he surmised, smiling a little bit at this conclusion.

I decided silence was the best option here. I couldn’t possibly contradict his completely accurate deduction. I wouldn’t outright confirm it for him, but I wasn’t going to deny what we both knew to be true.

“Y/N.”

More silence.

“Tell me I’m wrong and I’ll drop it,” he promised. I sighed.

“You know you’re not,” I told him.

“Then why don’t you do something about it?” He asked.

“There’s nothing to do about it,” I answered. “He doesn’t see me that way. And that’s fine. I’ve accepted it.”

“How do you know he doesn’t feel the same if you don’t tell him?”

“Sam, I’m really not in any condition to do anything to you right now, but I swear if you say anything to him, there’s going to be hell to pay in a couple of days,” I warned.

“I’m not going to say anything,” he said, offended by my assumption. “But I really think you should tell him. You guys are so great together. I think you would be good for each other. And I would be very happy for you.”

“Thanks, I guess. My head hurts too much to even consider thinking about this right now,” I told him.

“Alright, fine. I’ll let it go,” he conceded. “For now.”

“That’s all I ask.”

After that we sat in companionable silence while we waited for Dean to get back. Sam turned the TV on. I closed my eyes to block out the light and just listened to it, finding it to be a suitable distraction from the day’s events.

Dean got back probably twenty minutes later by my estimation.

“Hey, how are you doing?” He asked as soon as the door was shut behind him.

“A little better,” I told him.

“Good,” he said. He took the peas from my hand and gently felt the lump that had formed on the back of my head. “I think the swelling might actually be going down a little bit.”

He took the now room temperature peas to the freezer and switched them out for a fresh bag. He handed it to me and then sat down beside me, putting his arm around me.

“Is this ok?” He asked. He didn’t know the details that Sam did about the shapeshifter’s intentions, but he knew that I had been attacked today by a guy wearing his face.

“You don’t have to tiptoe around me,” I told him. “I know it wasn’t you. For the record, I knew the whole time it wasn’t you. I’m fine. I’m not traumatized and I’m not afraid of you.”

“A simple yes would have been fine,” he teased, pulling me closer into his side.

Movement from Sam’s direction had me glancing at him. He just smiled at me, looking meaningfully at Dean and then winking at me. I would have rolled my eyes if the action wouldn’t hurt my head. Instead I pointedly looked away from him. Things with me and Dean were fine the way they were. I wasn’t going to mess it up now just because Sam knew about my feelings.

A romantic relationship with Dean was something I wanted, but not something I needed. This right here – sitting together with my two best friends, knowing that even though I was temporarily unable to defend myself should it be necessary I was still safe and protected – this was all I needed. At least, that’s what I’d continue to tell myself.

Chapter 2

Tags:

@123passwort

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #familiar #reader insert #dean winchester #sam winchester #case fic #monster of the week #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x platonic!reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x platonic!reader #writing prompt

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directdogman · 1 month

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Just wanna say that I'm a HUGE fan of Dialtown and DSaF. I absolutely LOVE the storytelling and the balance you have with the plot! The absurdity mixed with logic and realism that paints something that could very well happen is absolutely stunning! I truly admire you and your teams' (assuming it isn't just you but I'm not sure) skills.

I do have a question though! At some point I saw an ask that you answered regarding writing dialogue and the differentiation of writing characteristics in different characters! I have to ask, what does the process look like for dialogue writing? How the hell do you stay in the mindset of the character? It's something that I struggle with way too much in my own writing (with way too many Google searches on synonyms for different words) so I'm wondering what your process is. Especially when it comes to a character lole Oliver, who has a theatrical way of speaking. It feels like there's too little words in the English language but you have this guy that's using all of them in one sentence!

Anyways, hope you're having an awesome day. If not, I hope things improve! I hope this wasn't too lengthy of an ask, haha.

Hey, don't think I'm necessarily a master at this! Hell, you should see how much I have to google word synonyms! Seriously, every time I sit down to write, I do the very same! Even if you become familiar with every word in the English language, you can never really store them all in your head at once! There's people out there who kinda can, but that's the thing, you don't HAVE to be insanely skilled in that way to write compelling character dialogue because I sure as hell am not!

DW, you're on the right track! It gets easier, the more you do it, but there's no real secret to writing really good dialogue (at least, that I know of) other than just writing a lot and when possible, studying writing that you really like and trying to deconstruct what others do (and it sounds like you're already on the right track, in the regard!)

One thing that helps me is being able to think like the character. Understanding how they think, how they feel about the world, what makes them tick, etc. It's easy for me since I write characters that I tend to share some common experiences with (or characters that share traits with people I know intimately), but even I don't delve as deeply into character-psychology while I write as I could. But. I feel I know enough about my characters to understand their 'vibe' pretty well! TBH, sometimes I have to go and replay existing DT scenes just to ensure it all 'sounds' correct. If you get good at this, you can pretty much hear your characters speaking in your head! That makes what you're asking about a hell of a lot easier.

I'm really more of a student than a teacher in the grand scheme of things (I have a lot to learn, myself!) and honestly, just having an interest in writing and wanting to deconstruct the stuff that inspires you is a big plus in becoming a really good writer! As cliché as it sounds, I really am just one dude standing on the shoulders of giants. Never forget that writers who inspire you are in the exact same spot you are. Hope this helps!

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irisintheafterglow · 9 months

Text

End Game #5 (volleyball captain!gojo x you)

summary: your school holds a practice match with kyoto, and two second-years give your team a little trouble.

word count: 3k

cw/tags: language, jjk volleyball au, mentions of food and eating, eventual best friends to lovers (not this chapter BUT WE'RE MAKING PROGRESS I SWEAR), satoru pulls another your mom joke

note: HERE IT IS the long awaited part 5 :D introducing hitter!todo and setter!kamo to rival your fav hitter/setter duos on the tokyo team. long chapter, sorry in advance but i hope you enjoy!

likes/reblogs/feedback are always appreciated !! thank you for all of the support you've given this series :)

“We haven’t held a practice match with Kyoto in years, right?”

“That is correct.”

“And, in that time, have they ever had a different coach?”

“Not that I know of, no.”

“Interesting.”

“Why do you ask?”

“Nothing, I was just–”

“They’re wondering why ol’ Yoshinobu looks like he was present for the Big Bang.” Your team’s captain finishes your explanation from behind you, much to the amusement of Yaga. You meet his gaze incredulously, silently asking why he wasn’t with the rest of the team warming up. He shrugs and gives you a signature lopsided grin that makes your heart do a somersault. “You’re not wrong, though. That man has more wrinkles than a wet paper towel.”

Your coach draws his mouth into a tight line to suppress a chuckle. “I cannot disagree.”

“Yaga!” A surprised laugh finally slips past your lips while Satoru settles into his place at your side, casually stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jacket. His electric-blue eyes survey the players running serve drills, cool and calculated. “Yuta’s floats have improved tremendously,” you comment, and Satoru hums in agreement. His eyes narrow on a ball striking the top edge of the net and barely falling over to the other side. You feel Yaga intake a deep breath in preparation to yell directions, but Satoru beats him to it, airily reminding Yuuji to take a running start before jumping. Your eyebrows subtly raise in surprise seeing him take initiative and you can’t help smiling at him out of the corner of your eye.

“Shouldn’t you be on the court, capt–” His head snaps in your direction, laser focused on the last word that you cut off just in time. His eyes twinkle with arrogant satisfaction and you stick your tongue out defiantly.

“What was that, my lovely manager?” He cups his hand to his ear and leans in closer, movements animated like a cartoon character.

You push his body away but he doesn’t budge. “I was asking why you’re not on the court warming up with the rest of the team, stupid.”

He hums skeptically. “Sure.” You roll your eyes and shake your head slightly in exasperation, wishing again for that I am done with Gojo Satoru bumper sticker. Yaga shoots Satoru a look over your head that makes him recoil a little bit, running a hand through his hair. “If you’re really wondering, I’m reading Kyoto’s players.”

“The third years?” You nod toward the tall players slamming powerful serve after powerful serve toward your team’s side.

“No, they haven’t been a threat since I was a first-year. Their serves are intimidation tactics.” Your eyebrows furrow confusedly and you track Satoru’s dark eyes. “I’m reading them.” His fingers rest on your head and gently rotate your gaze to two players leisurely prepping serves. In any other situation, you’d swat his hand away, but he was surprisingly correct. It hadn’t occurred to you to analyze the other team; your focus was preoccupied on the improvements of your own players. But, now that they were directly in your line of sight, you were able to properly deduce why Satoru had taken interest in them. “See ‘em now?”

“Yeah, I do.” The one closer to you was an average height but built. Thick, corded muscle ran over his biceps and calves, flexing as he stretched his neck and legs. He bounces the ball he holds on the ground a few times, clapping to himself routinely. Then, when a scan reveals none of your players are watching him, he fires off a serve neatly landing on the backline of the court. Your players don’t blink an eye as they’re still focused on warming up, but you finally understand why Satoru was watching him. His serves were like a bullet, precise and gone in a blink as if he teleported the ball wherever he wanted.

“Who is he?”

“His name’s Todo. One of two second-year prodigies that’ll carry Kyoto to Nationals if we don’t stop them first.”

“He’s that good?”

“Him and that one, over there.” He points to a player tucked into the back corner of the gym, spinning the ball on a delicate finger. He was one of the tallest on the team but you didn’t notice him because of his place in the shadows. Cloudy gray eyes shined as his captain announced the start of spiking drills and you gasped when he set the ball with accuracy nearly on-par with Satoru. The ball moved in a straight, unwavering line, like an arrow that halted just in time for a hitter to punch it over the net. “That’s Kamo. Megs and I have known him since middle school. He’s talented, though his family is a little wacky.”

“Satoru, you can’t just say things like that,” you whisper, begging him to drop the volume of his voice a little.

He doesn’t. “It’s true. Some relatives kicked him and his mom out when he was little.”

“What does that have to do with volleyball?”

“Nothing. It’s just trivia. We’ll be fine, either way.” He smirks down at you and you understand. Even if he was reading the Kyoto team, he wasn’t worried. He was confident and self-assured as always, but had a certain determination in his eye that told you he wasn’t going to hold back despite it being a practice match. His lean bicep bumps your shoulder reassuringly. “Hey, if you’re nervous, I’ll just piss off Suguru again. Get him fired up, you know?”

You shake your head adamantly, one hand coming up to cover your face as you squeeze your eyes shut at the memory of running practice in Yaga’s absence. “Please do not. I don’t want to have to drag you out by your earlobes again.”

“You had to do what?” You and Satoru both stiffen, completely forgetting that Yaga was listening to your conversation the entire time. You attempt to stutter out an explanation while your captain makes a quick escape, bowing unceremoniously in salute and running to join the rest of his players. Soon after, Satoru is pulling the team into a huddle, murmuring warnings about Todo and Kamo and reminding everyone that they’re paying for dinner if they lose. However, instead of groans and protests, you watch Satoru light a decisive fire in his players’ eyes by encouraging them to try the new techniques they’ve been working on.

“If you fail,” he said, “that’s okay.” A lanky arm slapped Suguru on the back and another pulled a tense Nanami closer to his side. “We’ll be here to support you. So, don’t lose.” The team’s fists punch up into the air and you beam at their earnestness. Yaga seemed pleased as well, muttering something under his breath about someone finally getting through his stubbornness.

Kyoto wins the first set, but Tokyo pulls back ahead to snag the second, leaving the third set as a tiebreaker. Between scribbling point counts and player stats in your notebook, you keep a keen eye on the two players Satoru was talking about earlier. Todo was a talented player, though he had an odd habit of clapping for himself before every serve. You also caught Megumi scowling as Todo talked up Yuuji between plays, catching parts of their conversation revolving around tastes in women and TV shows. Kamo, on the other hand, was relatively quiet. He didn’t speak unless it was a recommendation on strategy or directing the ball to a hitter. Megumi was competing head-to-head with Kamo often, despite Satoru’s attempts to draw attention away from his underclassman. He had a weird fascination with Megumi, you could tell, as he targeted him for 90% of his spikes. Todo and Kamo proved to be a threatening duo in the same way Satoru and Suguru or Megumi and Yuuji were; to your amusement, they also bickered just as much.

During the last break before the third set while you hand out water and towels, Suguru follows behind you like a duckling, waiting for you to have a moment to talk.

You catch his eye over your shoulder as you drop towels into the laundry basket. “Did I forget that special flavor thing for yours again? I swear I remembered to put it in because of the one that goes in Satoru’s.”

“What? Oh, no, that’s not what I’m here to talk about.” He crosses his arms and his sharp eyebrows pull together in deep thought, taking a deep breath.

You tilt your head to the side curiously, concerned about what was irking him so much in the middle of a match. “Is everything okay, Su?”

“Yeah, yeah. Nothing is wrong, I promise.” You raise your eyebrows in anticipation of his explanation. “I was just wondering what you said to Satoru that made him like…that.”

“Like what?”

“Like acting as a serious captain.”

“Oh.” You’re speechless for a moment, unable to string together a satisfactory answer. “I just told him that he needed to try a little harder.” It was the truth but for some reason, you still felt you were holding something back.

“For your sake?”

“No, for the team’s sake. Why would it be for my sake?” Suguru is silent, eyes widening ever so slightly like he’d accidentally revealed a secret, glancing behind you at the open air. You feel confident enough to press further. “Suguru, why would he try more for my sake?”

In a blink, he schools his face into careful blankness, shrugging nonchalantly. “Don’t know. It was a weird question, sorry.”

“What was a weird question?” Satoru’s voice pipes up from over your shoulder and you jump. “You can’t be asking people weird questions, Suguru. It’s impolite.”

“You don’t even know the question, idiot.” Indignancy washes over Suguru’s blank features. “What would you know about manners?”

“Ask your mother what she thinks of my manners–”

“Can we please not do this again?” Your hands press against their chests and you laugh nervously. “It’s a miracle all three of us survived last time.”

“Fine. After all…” Satoru’s voice drops to a menacing volume.

“Kyoto has a set to lose.”

The third set made you slightly dizzy as both teams were losing stamina. You didn’t know much about Kyoto when it was exhausted, but you knew your team when it was down. Yuuji’s serves started getting closer to the top edge of the net again, Megumi’s sets were messier, and Panda’s blocks were increasingly hole-filled. Suguru glared across the court at the other team, moisture glistening on his forehead from effort. Even Nanami was winded, wiping sweat from the lenses of his glasses and shaking his head furiously to force his mind back into the game. Your team played their hardest, as did their opponents, but a glance at the score showed 12-10 in favor of Kyoto. With only a handful of points left to win, it looked like Tokyo would be paying for dinner.

Still, as much as they tried, Kyoto was no match for Satoru’s sheer will.

Where the rest of his team was panting and on the brink of collapsing, Satoru was just getting warmed up. His serves were at their most powerful and his sets stayed accurate as Kamo’s declined in quality. His fists opened and closed as the score tied up at 13-13, a habit he only did when he was ready for a fight. Megumi pulls a ridiculously successful dump that has you cheering from Yaga’s side, pulling Tokyo ahead 14-13. With the last point on the line, you caught Satoru muttering something in Suguru’s ear, to which Suguru’s jaw dropped in disbelief. He shook his head no, continuing to protest at Satoru’s back as his captain broadcasted a hand signal you’d never seen before and prepared possibly the last serve of the match.

“It’ll be fine, Suguru! We’re the strongest!” He reassures his nauseous-faced hitter as his opponents snicker, and gives you a quick wink before serving the ball at 45% of his power. Your eyebrows skyrocket in shock as Kyoto receives it easily and makes to tie the score again. What the hell was he doing? Was he purposefully trying to tie up the score? Kamo smirks as he gives a practically perfect set to Todo, who blasts it straight down. You flinch and wait for the gut-churning sound of the ball hitting the floor, but it doesn’t come. Yuuji’s forearm slides under the ball just in time, and he rolls to the side. The receive isn’t the cleanest, dropping toward the middle of the court.

“You better know what you’re doing!” Suguru calls after his captain, who sprints from the back left corner diagonally toward the net. Suguru mirrors this action from the right corner and like a machine, they screech to a stop in the middle and use that momentum to throw themselves up toward the net. With a mischievous grin, Satoru calls out Inumaki’s name, who’s already in the air from the backline as the ball carefully falls into the libero’s outstretched fingers.

Your body finds itself standing on its own as Inumaki sets it right to Satoru’s open palm where your captain pulls the nastiest cross shot you’d ever witnessed. Your throat rips a shocked scream that blends seamlessly with the rest of the players’ exclamations of awe. Yaga’s mouth hangs open like a fish, as does Yoshinobu’s while your team swarms around their captain. Suguru, from the other end of the net, appears on the verge of passing out but still finds his hand proudly clapped with Inumaki’s. When Satoru’s eyes find yours, you can’t remember the last time he smiled at you so blindingly, nor can you remember a time beaming just as happily.

He skips the joint dinner between Tokyo and Kyoto, humbly excusing himself when you leave and announcing something about walking you home safely. He falls into step next to you, shoes tapping on the sidewalk in sync with yours.

“You’re not gonna get dinner with the team?” You ask, well aware that he wouldn’t have attended unless you were there too.

“Meh,” he drawls. “Yuuji can fend for himself for a night against Todo, and Megumi needs to learn to play nice with Kamo.”

The corner of your mouth turns up and you find yourself admiring the way the moonlight glittered in Satoru’s eyes. “You say as if they’re your children.”

“Are they not? I am a single father.”

You giggle. “Yeah, you definitely are. I just didn’t think that, with your extroverted ass, you’d skip an outing with such a large group.”

His mouth quirks carefreely, beautiful eyes tracing constellations in the night. “We have a tradition, don’t we?”

“Oh, you’re not going to ask that one person I got mad about the other night?” The words slip from your lips before you can stop them, and Satoru points at you accusingly.

“So you were mad! I knew it!”

“You brought up replacing me with some random stranger; of course I was mad!” You point back at him, poking his chest. He cries out in fake pain, flailing his limbs like an octopus. “I like spending time with you, you know. Even when I don’t tell you.” Your voice trails off and you look anywhere but his face, embarrassed.

You can hear the smirk in his voice. “Yeah, I know. For the record, I like spending time with you too.” He exhales tiredly. “Why’d you think you’re the only one I wanted to get dinner with tonight?”

“Because you like me better than everybody else,” you croon, fluttering your eyelashes dramatically. You expect him to recoil in faux-fear; however, your heart skips as he steps closer and peers down at you.

“Exactly. Now you’re starting to get it.” His voice is soft with something like exasperation, but the tenderness is gone in a snap. “However, I’d like to do something different tonight, if that’s alright with you.”

Your eyes narrow suspiciously. “Depends on what it is. Are you going to make me eat something I don’t like?”

“No,” he replies, drawing out the last vowel for emphasis. “I’d never.” You look at him skeptically, remembering the time he made you eat a barbecue-flavored cricket. The memory must have occurred to him at the same time and he matches your skeptical expression. “Don’t look at me like that; you said you liked it.” Your mouth opens in retaliation, but he isn’t finished.

“Let’s go somewhere nicer tonight, not just shitty fast food.”

“I thought you loved shitty fast food.”

“I do, but today is a day of celebration! It demands a different meal than burgers.” He cringes and sticks his tongue out in mock disgust.

“So, what? You want slightly more expensive burgers?”

“If that’s what you want, sure.” He runs an elegant hand through his hair and you fight the sudden urge to weave your fingers in his. “Let’s go somewhere nice. I’ll even pay.”

You scoff. “With what money?” He’s quiet again, tilting his head back and forth like a kid caught with too much candy. You understand without a word, mainly because this situation occurred once before. “Satoru!”

His arms gesture to open air defensively. “It was right there!”

“You don’t remember the last time you stole it?”

“If I recall correctly, he wasn’t that mad that I borrowed it.”

“Yeah, that’s because I was there with you, and don’t try to say it was borrowing! If you weren’t related to him, it would be considered theft.”

“What dear old dad doesn’t know won’t hurt him, babe.” Your face heats at how easily the pet name slips from his pretty mouth and you pray he doesn’t notice. “So? What do you say? I promise to take full responsibility and also eat anything you don’t like.” His finger crosses an “X” over his heart and you can’t resist the genuine excitement on his face.

“Fine. But I’m paying for dessert.”

He stamps his foot in childish protest. “That’s not how this–”

“I don’t care if it’s not how it works, Satoru. Consider it payback for not asking that rando to dinner.”

Even after he walks you home and leaves you a smiling, feeling-filled mess at your windowsill, you’re left wondering who that mystery person is.

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #jjk volleyball au #suguru geto

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allthings-acorn · 9 months

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Dogblr! I’m working through a training issue and would love some different perspectives. My question involves dealing with prey drive, engagement, and premack, I think?

Ok, so, I have a fenced-in yard for the first time ever, and I’ve been trying to start things off on the right track for Acorn. Acorn is a three year old mutt, with a fair chunk of terrier ancestry. There’s is nothing he loves more than searching for and chasing critters. I want him to be able to enjoy the yard, but not to totally disregard me while he’s out there.

Here’s what I’ve been doing so far: We go outside on a leash. I wait for him to offer eye contact before taking the leash off. Then, I reinforce any and all engagement with me. I start off with treat tosses for choosing to check in, and usually after a few minutes I can cue different behaviors and have sustained engagement.

The problem is, the amount of time I have to wait for him to offer me attention is pretty variable. I’d hoped he would start offering engagement sooner but it doesn’t seem to be happening. Tonight I suspect there was increased squirrel activity, and he ran around from tree to tree for about 10 mins, rarely checking in with me. I’d wanted to play fetch with him, which is a favored activity of his, but obviously doesn’t outrank squirrels. After about ten mins, I tried to begin the game, which, in retrospect I should have realized he wasn’t going to go for. He blew me off once, I tried again a few minutes later and he chased the toy twice before losing interest again. At that point I leashed him up, and brought him inside.

I’m trying to put my own frustration aside, but it’s definitely a factor here. We have a similar issue in agility class, the barn where classes are in the winter is a huge issue for us. He does better when we train outside, but he still has a tendency to leave me and run the fence line investigating smells instead of working. I really really want to get to the point where I can let him off leash, train and play with him, and THEN release him to the environment.

So here’s my current thinking— I’m feeling pretty discouraged, so let me know if you have any ideas or if you think I’m on the right track or not— I need to stop allowing him to do the searching for prey behavior until I’ve finished with whatever I’m planning to do. I suppose I’ll keep him on leash or maybe a longline, work engagement until he seems ready to start on whatever the goal of the session is. Start small at first and see if it becomes easier for him to focus on training once he knows he’ll get to run around the yard afterwards.

Ugh, for some reason I’m not liking this plan. I suppose it makes me feel like I have to be the Fun Police, making him eat his vegetables before dessert. But I’m also very tired of feeling like I have to coax him to engage with me every time we’re working around any distractions. I feel like my current protocols work in the short term, but I don’t see any improvement from session to session. Clearly this is an ongoing problem for us, and I hope that being forced to tackle it at home will help address the issue in agility too. Anyway, I would love any advice, insight, pep-talk, commiseration, suggestions for courses or other resources, etc. I just need to stop feeling like I’m banging my head against a wall!

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reminiscingtonight · 1 year

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The Reveal

Leah Williamson x Bronze!Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Lucy finally returns in this last installment of the Setback prequels. I hope you guys have enjoyed the journey as much as I have writing it!

Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // Setbacks

[WOSO Masterlist]

Waking up to Leah will always be your favorite activity. You come to consciousness to tiny breaths puffed against your cheek, arms wrapped tight around your torso. Your legs are tangled together, the only evidence of what happened last night being the soreness in your body and the lack of clothes on both of you.

You snuggle against Leah, letting yourself bask in her warmth before beginning the daunting task of untangling yourself. The defender’s clingier than most, never letting you leave the bed without a fight. Usually you would fold without much prompting and go cuddle with your favorite person, but today you have plans to make Leah breakfast in bed, and you’d be damned if you let her charm you out of it.

“No! Don’t go,” Leah whines, coming to consciousness just to try to pull you back into bed with her.

“I’ll be right back, promise,” you whisper, secretly delighted that Leah still puts up this much of a fight even after a couple months into dating.

She mumbles something incoherent into her pillow but doesn’t let go of the death grip she has on your arm.

“Leah,” you tsk out, happily giving her a kiss when she drags you down for another one. When she attempts to go from cute to sexy, however, you stop her right in her tracks. “Let me do something nice for you. Please?”

Leah gives you a blank look, hand pausing from where it’s attempting to trail down your body. When you give her your best puppy eyes, she sighs before letting you go. That’s the one trait the two of you share, never being able to say no to what the other wanted.

“Fine. Hurry back, I miss you already.” Leah’s pout almost gets you to break. Almost.

Pressing a quick kiss against her lips, you quickly shrug on a hoodie and some underwear before slinking out into the kitchen.

Thankful for your pre-planning, you already have all the ingredients necessary to make breakfast. You pull them all out quickly, mentally ticking off your checklist. You’re ducking under your cabinet, trying to pull out a plate when you hear the distinct sound of keys in your locks.

You spin around just as your front door swings open. When you catch sight of brown hair in a familiar bun, you’re suddenly glad you threw on a hoodie to cover your state of undress before leaving your room.

“Luce! What are you doing here?” It’s hard to hide the panic in your voice, especially when you’re aware of the body in the next room.

Lucy gives you a weird look, mistaking your panic for confusion. She drops a bag of muffins and some coffee onto your counter. “What, I can’t come visit my sister?”

“I just wasn’t expecting you,” you shrug, hoping to play off your disarray.

Lucy eyes all the food on the counter, taking note of the two plates, two cups, double of everything really. “The amount of food you’re preparing says otherwise.”

You blink owlishly, silently cursing your sister’s perceptive eyes. You could never get anything past Lucy when you were younger. Her BS detector has only seemed to improve as the two of you grew older.

“Did I tell you I was coming over? Damn, I was really hoping to surprise you. Give you an early birthday gift since I’m in town right now and all.”

“What? No. No! I’m surprised, very surprised. You did a great job, totally didn’t see it coming or anything. When did you even get into town? I thought you had a game yesterday.” You’re really hoping your rambling has confused Lucy enough to forget about all the extra food you’re preparing, but in the end, none of your distractions are enough to stop Leah from joining the party.

“Baby, what’s all the nois--” Leah stops abruptly when she takes in the sight in front of her.

Your first step is to grimace. You’ve been thinking about the best way to break the news of your new girlfriend to Lucy for weeks now. Although you haven’t hid your relationship anywhere close to as long as Lucy did, you know that your sister would still be hurt that you hadn’t told her right away.

Lucy stiffens next to you and you’re trying to come up with the proper explanation when you notice what Leah’s dressed in. Or more plainly, how little she’s dressed in. All Leah’s got on is one of your flannels and a pair of boxers.

You bite your lip, not able to push down the sudden surge of attraction that arises when you catch sight of her abs, the low swells of her-- Leah seems to gather her lack of clothes at the same time. She quickly closes shut the flannel, hiding the excess skin she had on display. Leah’s face is a rosy hue, no doubt embarrassed to be caught in this state by your sister.

Speaking of which…

“Why is there a barely dressed Leah Williamson in your flat?” Lucy grits out, turning her glare towards you.

“Surprise. We’re… dating?” The way your voice raises at the end makes your statement sound more like a question.

Lucy raises an eyebrow. “Are you asking or telling me?”

A tense silence settles over the three of you.

Leah fidgets uncomfortably under Lucy’s piercing eyes. “I’m just gonna,” she gestures over her shoulder towards your bedroom, but stops the second your sister’s voice rings out.

“No, stay. Please. I’d like to see how you guys try to explain this away.” Lucy crosses her arms, staring pointedly between the two of you.

“There’s nothing to ‘explain away’,” you frown, not liking what Lucy’s implying. “Leah’s my girlfriend and I’m hers. We’re dating.”

It’s not like it’s a secret. While you and Leah are keeping things on the downlow, most of your club teammates have already figured out that you and Leah are together. The great thing about not playing on the same team as your sister meant not sharing every second of your life with one another. You’re sure Lucy’s happy for the slight reprieve, after basically coddling you to your interests your entire life.

You make your way around the counter, picking up a discarded sweatshirt on the way and handing it to Leah. Your girlfriend murmurs a quiet thanks, hurrying to pull on the piece of clothing. You can feel Lucy’s gaze burning into your back as you block Leah from Lucy’s view.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know she was coming,” you whisper, noting the way Leah’s eyes keep darting nervously behind you.

“When did this happen?” Lucy’s voice interrupts the two of you before Leah can respond to you.

Rolling your eyes in annoyance, you turn around to face your sister again. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Her eyes narrow dangerously and you can feel Leah stiffen beside you. You’re used to Lucy being short with you, not that it happens often, but you understand why Leah’s more jumpy than usual. If you weren’t related to Lucy you would probably be quaking in your boots too.

But you are related to her. And you know exactly how to push Lucy’s buttons without the disastrous consequences that usually come when people challenge her.

You square your jaw, trying hard not to snap at Lucy. “You know Leah. You like Leah. There’s no need to give her the third degree.”

Lucy’s mouth pinches in displeasure, but you cut her off again before she can argue with you.

“Leah makes me happy. Like really stupidly happy. Happier than I’ve been in a long time, okay? She treats me amazingly and dotes on me to the degree that it should be annoying but instead only makes me love her more. She’s wonderful in every way possible and most importantly, she loves me. So. Take all of that into account before you say whatever you’re going to say.”

Lucy blinks, not expecting such a long, thought out declaration.

Leah also seems to be taken aback, mouth parted in surprise. It’s only when the silence drags on and no one says anything that you realize how raw your declaration was. The heat crawls up your neck and your fingers start nervously drumming on your thigh.

Leah’s hand is quick to lace themselves with yours, stopping your nervous motion. She gives you a light squeeze, and you watch as Lucy’s eyes drop to your intertwined hands.

It almost feels like a lifetime before Lucy says anything. When she does, you’re not sure if it’s supposed to make you feel better or not.

“Okay. Well. You’re an adult so.” Lucy sighs, looking as if she’s about to get up and leave.

From the corner of your eyes you can see a matching frown form on Leah’s face.

“Just because I’m an adult doesn’t mean I don’t care about what you think.”

And it’s true. You’ve always idolized your sister, wanting to do everything you could to impress her. Her perceptions on everything you do is always important to you. And while you’re ready to defend Leah to the moon and back, Lucy’s approval would only make you breathe a little easier.

Lucy silently stares at the two of you, trying to weigh whether or not you’re being honest. The corner of her mouth twitches before she turns her attention to Leah. “You really love (Y/N)?”

Leah nods, hand tightening around yours. “Yeah, I really do.”

Lucy looks like she’s considering it for a moment before she shrugs. “Okay, well that’s all I can really ask for.”

You want to let out the breath you’ve been holding in this entire time, but then Lucy actually does head for the door.

“Wait, where are you going?”

Lucy pauses, already slipping on one of her shoes. “Uh, well it’s clear I’m crashing your guy’s breakfast so I’m just going to--”

“You should stay!” Leah’s outburst takes all of you by surprise. A blush forms on her face as she throws out a mumbled, “Please.”

Lucy looks between the two of you, from Leah’s embarrassed face to your pleading one. You know you have her when Lucy takes one look at your puppy eyes and then mutters something in Portuguese to herself.

“Alright then, if you guys insist.”

Your smile is blinding as Lucy makes her way back to the kitchen. Leah passes you another cup that you quickly fill with coffee before sliding it to your sister. Lucy mumbles a quick thanks before handing out the muffins she brought this morning.

“Maybe we should invite Keira next time,” Lucy hums under her breath as she takes a bite of her muffin. “Make this a proper double date. I’m sure she would love it.”

Lucy stops chewing when she notices the way Leah has stiffened up again. She turns her questioning gaze towards you, but you turn your eyes upwards, suddenly finding your ceiling very interesting.

Lucy chokes.

“Oh my god, you guys haven’t told Keira yet?!”

#leah williamson x reader #engwnt x reader #engwnt imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #Ace writes

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my-autism-adhd-blog · 7 months

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Hi! First of all i wanna thank you for your kindness and resourcefullness to support the tumblr ND community!

And second:

Do yoy have any tips on how to deal with executive dysfunction? Especially when you HAVE to do something increedibly crucial but its a big heavy task that you have no interest in and puts you under a lot of pressure.

Again, thank you! I submitted an ask ages ago and you helped me realize that i have BOTH ADHD AND ASD!

Hi,

I found some lists that I found that might be helpful:

How to Manage Executive Dysfunction Problems:

1. Use a digital calendar to manage your time

2. Keep helpful resources like checklists and templates nearby & visible

3. Break goals down into smaller 5-minute actions

4. Create an organizational system to keep track of important physical items

5. Plan and commit to short breaks between work sessions

6. Color code study materials based on mastery to prioritize review

7. Use habit-building apps to build consistency

8. Reframe deadlines and helpful tools to prioritize responsibilities

9. Practice mindfulness to build presence and attention

10. Pre-plan your next action following a scheduled break

Full article is below:

I found another list:

1. Make a Daily To-Do List  Creating a daily list of tasks and projects can help to improve the challenges of executive function disorder. To-do lists can help you stay motivated, organized, and make progress towards your goals. A daily to-do list is a powerful way to manage impulses that can lead to poor decision-making.

2. Use a Calendar  Create a daily, weekly, or monthly schedule to track important dates and appointments. Update your calendar daily. Try to make recurring appointments at the same time of day.

3. Learn How to Manage Your Time Break down to-do lists as "urgent," "important," and "non-urgent." This will allow you to budget plenty of time for those long-term projects that are important to you.

4. Take Notes Take time to write down important dates, reminders, or rules that come up in a designated notebook. Keep it organized. Keep sticky notes in a place that is easily accessible. Take notes related to important calls so that you can keep track of details discussed in meetings and conversations.

5. Use Reminders Use reminders and alarms to keep you organized and on time for appointments and meetings.

6. Keep It Simple Reduce the number of activities that you attempt to complete at one time to help you focus and complete the task before moving on to another.

7. Relax and Breathe  Practicing stress management techniques like meditation, yoga, deep breathing can improve symptoms associated with weak executive function skills and can help to reduce executive function anxiety.

8. Stay Organized If you find yourself losing items frequently or feeling overwhelmed, try decluttering your home or office. Stay organized and keep your area tidy to help you locate items and feel less overwhelmed.

Full article will be below:

I hope this helps. Maybe my followers can give some advice and tips too.

Thanks for the submission. I hope you have a wonderful day/night. ♥️

#submission #inbox reply #inbox is temporarily closed #please send a submission is you have a question and I’ll do my best to answer if I can

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corrodedbisexual · 11 months

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@steviesbicrisis your Steddie Eurovision brainrot never left my brain, so now I'm thinking about Eddie going for the ultimate love confession by learning Stefano's song (Duolingo lessons paid off somewhat, he's got the pronunciation down at least and the lyrics can be memorized). He rearranges it into a beautiful metal power ballad, rents a studio, and they record the cover overnight (bless his bandmades for indulging his insanity when they could be out partying like the rest of the Eurovision crowd, but they end up having fun with it, too). Eddie uploads the song to their Spotify before he can chicken out and goes to bed to scream into his pillow.

Steve wakes up to about a hundred notifications of people texting him and tagging him in posts about Corroded Coffin's new cover track. He listens to it several times making sounds absolutely unbecoming of a grown man that he is, and kicking his feet, and texting Robin in all caps and heart emojis because he's absolutely GONE for that low gravelly voice singing HIS song. (Robin, who's currently in the US, texts him back a picture of her bedside clock showing 4AM, with a deadpan emoji. But then also "go get your man dingus" and an eggplant emoji.)

Later that day Eddie attends Steve's concert at a club, hoping to blend in with the crowd, but Steve notices him just as he's about to close with his Eurovision number, grins wide and says, "I think there's someone in the audience who might help me put a twist on this one. Hey Australia, get your ass on stage."

Before Eddie's brain even catches up with what's happening, there are lights on him, the crowd recognize him and all cheer and whoop and whistle; news travels lightning fast in the village, so all the Eurovision fans present have heard his cover already and are thrilled about what they're about to witness. Eddie's being pushed forward, his feet helplessly dragging him towards the stage, and there's an electric guitar shoved into his arms by someone.

It's only thanks to years of experience and muscle memory that Eddie manages to tune the guitar while his brain short circuits about being right next to this gorgeous man, hair a mess, neck all sweaty and shiny from the stage lights. And then he's playing, Steve's band follow his lead, and Steve sings the verses himself but pulls Eddie in for the choruses. They are both singing into the same mic, pressed together back to back, Steve's face and LIPS so fucking close the entire time, their cheeks almost touching, making Eddie buzz from more than just stage adrenaline.

The whole audience joins in on what was supposed to be the final chorus, Steve and Eddie turned around now to almost face each other; Steve throws an arm around his shoulders and grins so wide and dazzling as he sings, eyes moving between the crowd and Eddie, and Eddie can't stop grinning back at him; holy fuck, the man is so beautiful like this, Eddie never wants this to end. He repeats the chorus tune on the guitar over and over, changing up the rhythm to go faster and faster on what was initially a slow ballad, matching his own accelerating heartbeat. Steve's grin is absolutely brilliant as he matches Eddie's pace perfectly in this little improv, despite the lyrics going so fast now Eddie would never be able to do that, but Steve practically breaks into a rap by the end of it and he's ON FIRE. The crowd is going wild, everyone jumping up and down and just high pitch screaming when the lyrics get too fast for them to follow, too.

Eddie ends it with a quick improv guitar solo, Steve's eyes on him the entire time, wide and shining as he not quite headbangs, but keeps nodding to the rhythm. Then, with the final chord still ringing out, Steve leans into the mic to sing the chorus one last time a capella, slow and soft. The club immediately goes quiet as everyone listens, mesmerized, and so does Eddie. God, this man has a beautiful voice.

Steve's eyes are closed for the most of it, but they open on the final line and land on Eddie as he sings it, and Eddie remembers the translation of it. "Would you let me love you like it's our last night on this planet?" He is so gone, gone, GONE. When the set ends, and they both bow to the audience whose cheers are near deafening, it's only the fact that every single person has their phones out to record the performance that stops Eddie from kissing the guy right there on that stage.

Steve drags him backstage and slams him into a wall the moment they're out of sight, and it's kinda funny how they are making out like horny teenagers before they even had a single conversation, but after all, music speaks louder than any words.

#i also have thoughts about Eddie being absolutely embarrassing during voting #screaming and jumping up and down with an Italian flag he sneaked into the green room every time Stefano gets 12 points #steddie #fanfic #eurovision #steddie fic #misha-bawlins fanfic

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munsonsreputation · 11 months

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CONGRATS ON 500 FOLLOWERS!!! I’d love to request a Taylor-inspired Steve fic for the song “Labyrinth.” I feel like it’s so Steve-post-Nancy-breakup coded it’s unreal 🧣

hi libby!!!!

i'm so sorry this request took so long, but i hope you're still able to enjoy this short little piece i wrote up!!! i personally love "labyrinth" and i think it's one of the most underrated tracks on "midnights." and you're so right! this song is totally steve coded and he would have this song on repeat while he laid on his bed and though about life!

i hope you like my spin on your request and thank you so much for your sweet comments and support 💘💘💘

Lost is how Steve Harrington felt most of the time when it came to his love life. Not that he needed a partner to feel validated or loved, but it just felt nice to have someone to be there for and to stick with him.

For a long time, he thought that person would be Nancy—and if anything it was the only person he ever thought about spending the rest of forever with, but plans seemed to change in her mind and he knew then that her heart was set on Jonathan’s but he could never be angry at her for choosing someone else.

He knew that he was lacking in a lot of areas, the ones that Nancy valued, and the ones that he himself tried to improve upon, but it was just too late. And he accepted the fact that he messed up, but it hurt like hell to see her be happy with someone who wasn’t him.

But he also knew that it only hurt that much because of how raw everything was. That with time, that hurt wouldn’t be there anymore because he would be happy that she was getting the love she deserved and he would be moved on.

Robin, being the sweet soul that she was, attempted to help him “move on” which consisted of a bunch of random double dates with Vicky’s friends whom she thought he would like and other times just random strangers she met at the mall. But despite her efforts, Steve couldn’t help but compare them to Nancy and even see her within those other girls.

Part of him despised the fact that everyone just expected him to bounce back from the breakup because he was Steve Harrington. It was never going to be easy trying to get over someone he loved, but them not loving him back.

But he was willing to try.

At this point, everything felt futile. Like he’d be spending the rest of his life trying to move on from Nancy Wheeler. So he stopped going on those stupid double dates with random girls, and instead put his time into trying to focus on himself. Picking up a new hobby to take up his time, which was reading. Visiting the local library and strolling through the endless shelves of books until he found one that interested him enough for him to check out and borrow.

“I’ve read this one before! Lots of plot twists, but you’ll love it!” You bubbled enthusiastically, scanning the book that the handsome stranger had slid towards you.

His eyes caught yours for the first time. And like a slow motion love potion, there was something igniting between the two of you and, in a snap, everything just floated away from Steve’s consciousness. For the first time in the last three months, he didn’t dare see an ounce of Nancy nor think of her when he was looking at you.

His mind echoing the thoughts, “uh oh, I’m falling in love again.”

Steve wasn’t one for believing in love at first sight, but with you something just happened. So flabbergasted, he stared at you with his mouth wide open and his eyes sparkling. It made you laugh, waving your hands in front of him to snap him out of that gaze.

The same gaze you caught him in three months later as you sat across from him in his friend’s living room playing uno.

“Harrington, snap out of it!” You scolded jokingly, snapping your fingers in front of his face where he finally closed his mouthing and blinked.

Everyone giggled, nudging each other as you stared at him amused with your brows raised.

“W-what? I’m fine…I’m good…is it my turn yet?” He stammered as you broke and joined in on the laughter, watching him awkwardly shuffled the cards in his hands to avoid the embarrassment.

The hand of cards you held in your palms flattened out against the wood grain of the coffee table as you cleared your throat and stood up. Steve eyed your stance, following you look around the room smiling at his friends that were now yours.

“No, you’re fine! It’s getting late. Do you think we should head home?”

You turned to him, asking if that was ok, solely with your eyes, and he nodded, a small smile on his face, “Steve and I are gonna head to the farmer's market in the morning so we need to rest up.”

Steve’s adorning eyes never strayed away, your body shifting around the room with comfort and ease while you embraced every single one of them with your famous warm and tight hugs. Smiles exchanged with people whom you never thought you’d gotten the opportunity to be friends with.

Such funny and amazing people.

He never thought in a million years that he’d find someone who’d get along with quite literally anyone, especially his ex-girlfriend, Nancy. If anything, you showed just as much compassion and love as you did the rest of his friends, not caring that she had history with your boyfriend. But you more so knowing and accepting that the past was past, and you weren’t going to allow yourself to become hurt over something that was over.

Instead, you enjoyed spending time with Nancy and the rest of his friends. Appreciating their company and acceptance of you now that you were in Steve’s life. A part of you constantly feeling a sense of belonging knowing that they never treated you differently and Steve could feel that.

He could feel the love, just in the way that the kids would light up when you walked into the room with an arm full of snacks for movie night, or bug him about the next time they would be able to see you.

He knew you were loved by Nancy and Robin when they would tug you up from the sofa and dance around the living room until your feet hurt and the three of you ladies ended up in a giggling mess on the carpet.

He knew you were loved by Eddie and Jonathan when they would jokingly hide your car keys so that you and Steve could stick around for a few more rounds of Uno because they loved both of your presence.

His friends loved you so much so that it terrified him because the thoughts of something bad happening between the two of you would mean that one of you would no longer be able to share these friends anymore.

Now the thoughts echoing as he knew something always was too good to be true. Like a plane dropping down just when he thought the flight was smooth, “Oh no, I’m falling in love again.”

He swallowed thickly, running his palms up and down his denim covered legs before he stood up and found his way next to you, giving a final hug to Robin as she walked you both to the front door.

She smiled at Steve, sending her own hug towards her best friend, making you smile at the scene of Steve letting out a fake exasperated sigh, like he could ever get tired of her, and eventually wrapping his arms around her back.

“You guys get home safe and let me know how the farmer’s market is. Maybe we can all go next weekend!” She bubbled happily, pulling off of Steve and turning to send you a grin.

You nodded assuringly, molding yourself to Steve’s side as he came up beside you, “I’ll call you when we get home from it and let you know then.”

“Night, guys.” Steve shouted, wrapping his other arm across your shoulders, guiding you two out door, hearing the goodbyes shouted before Robin locked up for the night.

The crickets filled the night with their chirps, a slight breeze waving across your skins as you made the short distance to his maroon car that still shone in the dark of the night, thanks to the stars and the single street light.

“Did’ya have fun tonight?” Steve asked, twisting the key into the slot of the passenger door, unlocking it for you.

You tilted your chin up at him, a doey look you gave him every single time he asked that question because the answer was always the same, “I always have fun when you and your friends are around.”

But tonight your response was different, “I had fun! Were you ok? You were staring off a lot.”

You waited for a response as you got into the car, a slight hum leaving his lips before he shut the door and jogged over to the driver’s side where he settled in.

“I just was thinking about some things.” He told you, buckling his seatbelt and starting the car.

You leaned your elbow on the center console, getting closer to him. “About what?”

“It’s nothing important.” He told you, fingertips skimming your arm as he reached for the gear stick.

But if there was one thing you learned after all this time dating Steve, it was that sometimes he liked to keep things to himself before they unfortunately boiled over. He had this way of just not wanting to say how he was feeling because he was terrified of what you would think or say, but you were doing your best to try to break down those walls because you wanted him to be as open and honest, and comfortable with you.

“Steve,” you said delicately, placing a hand on top of his to stop the action of driving off, and he looked at you with confusion on his face, as if you were just going to accept his response.

“You can tell me anything, you know…you don’t have to be scared of letting me inside your thoughts.”

He felt your thumb smoothing over his knuckles and saw the way your eyes softened just like your voice. The words slipping from you with ease because you were dead serious about wanting Steve to trust you with every ounce of his being.

It was only a second after that where you smiled, tilting your head closer to his to press your lips against his. The kind of kiss where there was no movement, just skin touching to let him know that you were right here with him. And so he couldn’t help but smile against you despite his thoughts echoing the scariest words he longed to say out loud.

But before he could even stop himself or pull away from your skin, the words came flowing out like a breeze of fresh air.

“I’m in love with you.”

His voice was soft, yet you didn’t miss the shakiness in his tone, and the way his lips seemed to quiver after he had admitted his feelings.

You were the one who pulled away first, and to Steve that almost felt like a twinge of rejection, like a plane that was free falling and he could do nothing but brace for impact.

But your smile and thumbs brushing over his cheek turned that plane right around.

“I’m in love with you, too.”

And that’s when Steve Harrington knew that he was no longer lost. That even though it took so many wrong turns to get here, he was here with you and that’s all that matter. That if there was one person who wouldn’t mind getting lost in, it would be you and your mind.

leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!!

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @fckthtgetmoney @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24

#munsonsreputation #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x taylor swift #taylor swift x stranger things #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things fluff #stranger things imagines #stranger things x you

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lucy90712 · 2 months

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Road to recovery- part 8

Masterlist

Part of me was hoping that the hate would slow down a bit but of course it didn't. Every time I checked any form of social media all I saw was people posting about how much they didn't like me and assuming that I'm only friends with Pablo to gain something. I thought I'd be able to handle the comments but I just can't there has been so many more than I thought there would be and people have said such hurtful things about my appearance and my character. Pablo keeps apologising and asking if I'm ok and I just keep telling him I'm fine which is a bit of a lie but I can tell he already feels bad enough I don't want to make him feel worse by telling him how I really feel. The worst part about it is that everyone seems to be drawing attention to the things I was already insecure about which hasn't helped my mental state at all.

Today though I have a chance to cheer myself up a bit as I have a big check up with my doctor to see how my recovery is progressing. I think it's going pretty good so hopefully he agrees and says something positive as that would really lift my spirits. I've been nervous about the appointment today as well which has really made the last few days even more challenging on my mental health but I'm trying to stay positive as I know wallowing in sadness and anxiety won't do me any good.

Alonso came to pick me up a bit before my appointment; when I got in the car I expected him to tease me about everything that happened with the game this weekend but he didn't instead he asked if I was ok. I was going to lie to him too but because he's my brother he knows exactly when I'm lying so I had to tell him the truth. It was kind of nice to get all of my feelings off my chest and Alonso was really supportive and gave me some good advice. He's been through things like this before with getting hate for his performances out on track so he told me to just delete the apps off my phone for a bit that way I'm not tempted to look at what people are saying. In fact he stole my phone and did it for me as I think he knew I probably wouldn't do it myself.

Once I had my phone back I went into the hospital on my own leaving Alonso to wait in the car for me. The wait for my appointment wasn't long at all and then I went in and was immediately taken for some new scans to see how everything was healing. After scans I was subjected to a load of tests on my range of movement, how much weight I could put on my leg and how much pain I was in. The testing was rigorous and honestly quite exhausting as it's been a long time since I've done this much movement with my knee but for the most part it felt good. After I had done everything the doctor left for a while to review it all and look at my scans which left me just staring at the wall hoping to hear good news. Just as I was daydreaming the door opened again and the doctor came back in, his expression was impossible to read which for some reason filled me with a few more nerves.

"Ok Lola things aren't progressing as we would like them too internally you aren't healing as quick as we thought you would and your movement isn't at the range we would expect it to be" he said

"What does that mean?" I asked holding back tears

"For now it doesn't mean too much this can happen as we can't always accurately predict how quickly people will recover but we will set another one of these appointments in a few weeks and if we aren't seeing improvement you may need a second surgery so that we can see what's going on" the doctor explained

"Ok" was all I could manage to say

"I know this isn't what you wanted to hear but don't let it discourage you if you keep working hard you won't need the surgery" he said

We scheduled my next appointment and that was as long as I could hold it together. All of my emotions that I'd been holding onto for the last few days came out all at once, as soon as I left the hospital doors I burst into tears and I couldn't do anything to stop them. I made my way back to where Alonso parked but before I could get into the car Alonso had got out and wrapped me in his arms. He tried to get me to stop crying and tell him what was wrong but I just couldn't he tried everything to help me all of which had worked before but today nothing could stop me. Eventually he gave up and let me get in the car so we could go home because right now all I want is to just go home and get to grips with my emotions as I clearly have a lot to process.

As much as my eyes were filled with tears I could tell that Alonso didn't take the turn to take me back to my place which meant he was going to take me somewhere in hopes of cheering me up. I really didn't want to go wherever it was he was planning to go but I was sobbing too much to tell him to take me home. We went a bit further before the car stopped and I looked round a bit as at first I didn't recognise where we were but then I saw Pablo's house and realised we were just down the street. I should've known Alonso was going to bring me here but this is the last place I want to be I don't want Pablo to see me like this. I knew we said we would help each other out but I know for a fact Pablo is doing better and I know he's in a better place mentally and I don't want to ruin that by projecting my problems onto him that wouldn't be fair.

Alonso had to practically drag me out of the car and down the road which was rather easy for him as I'm not strong enough to put up too much of a fight. We walked down the street to Pablo's house where Alonso left me to ring the doorbell, part of me was hoping that he wouldn't be in even though he said he had no plans today. Of course after just a few seconds the door opened and I locked eyes with Pablo who straight away rushed over as quick as he could and wrapped me up in his arms. I wanted to stop crying but for some reason I only cried more once I was in Pablo's arms it was like he made me feel safe enough to truly let all of my feelings out. Pablo said a few words to my brother before taking me inside and allowing him to leave.

Pablo took me to the sofa and allowed me to settle into his embrace with my head buried in his chest so he couldn't see my tear stained and probably red and puffy face. His hand was gently stroking my back trying to calm me down while he whispered comforting words in my ears. It wasn't anything special what he was doing but hearing his words and feeling his hands on me did wonders in helping calm my emotions which I didn't have any control over. As my tears began to slow down Pablo kept rubbing my back and he even wiped some of the tears from my face that he could reach as I was still hiding most of my face. I never would've thought he would be so good at comforting me I mean he's always so hyper and full of energy I never imagined that he'd be any good at keeping calm and radiating that onto others but clearly he is. Once I had completely stopped crying and my breathing was getting back to normal Pablo put a hand under my chin and got me to look at him.

"Can you tell me what's wrong I hate seeing you so upset and I want to help" he said

"The doctor said my knee isn't healing properly and I might need another surgery if things don't get better" I said still sniffling slightly

"I'm sorry that sounds awful but that's not the only thing on your mind is it" he probed further

"No that's it" I lied

"Don't lie to me please just tell me what's wrong I'll do whatever I can to help and I won't judge you you know that" he said

Damn why doesn't he have to be able to read me like a book.

"Ok I've been getting a lot of hate since we were seen together at the game and it's been getting to me a bit I thought I could handle it as I'm used to criticism but I can't some people are just so mean" I admitted letting a few more tears fall

"I knew it was getting to you people on social media are assholes because they don't feel the consequences of what they say but none of what they say is true" he said

"But they keep talking about how I must be using you or how I don't deserve to even be friends with you which that part is kind of true" I rambled

"No it's not true I can't even imagine what my life would be like without you I love spending time with you just because you aren't famous doesn't mean you don't deserve to be friends with me and despite what they say I know you aren't using me I know you would never do that" he said

"And before you say anything all of the things they say about your appearance aren't true either you are beautiful inside and out and they are just jealous" he added

Hearing him say that put a smile on my face. Pablo has never really complimented me before he's told me my outfit was cool a few times but he's never called me beautiful so hearing it made me feel a lot better about myself. He must've noticed that I was finally smiling again as he told me I looked pretty when I smiled which only made my cheeks heat up but luckily my face was already red from crying so Pablo probably wouldn't have noticed. Although I kind of wish he knew how he made me feel because as time goes on it's getting harder and harder to hide my true feelings from him.

Pablo's POV

The pain in her eyes just shattered my heart. She's been my rock throughout every step of the way so far so to see her breakdown right in front of me really hurt. This whole time she's been the strong one never letting anything get to her but finally it's caught up with her and part of it's my fault because we got seen together at the game and now people are tearing her apart and one person can only handle so much. I feel so awful that I'm part of the reason she's so upset but knowing that I can be there for her and calm her down makes me feel a bit better. When she arrived she was hysterical and her brother told me he couldn't get a word out of her so he wanted me to try so that's what I did. I'm not very good at keeping myself calm at times let alone other people but I tried my best and after a while of just rubbing her back and whispering to her she calmed down. It felt good to be the one to help her because she's done so much for me that anything I can do to even remotely repay that I'll do in a heartbeat.

Hearing the way she criticised herself as well it pained me. She's the most beautiful and kind person I've ever met so to hear her say that she thought she didn't deserve to be friends with me hurt but what hurt more was to see that those horrible people got to her and made her feel insecure in herself. Throughout the time we've known each other I've always wanted to tell her just how beautiful she is but I've refrained as I know once I open the flood gates there's no going back. Once I start complimenting her I'm scared that I'll let my feelings show but today she needed it so I knew I had to take the risk. Seeing the smile that my compliments gave her made the risk feel worth it though as I'd do anything to keep her smiling 24/7.

Looking into her eyes as she smiled and blushed at my words made me feel some type of way. I've felt something for her since we first met and I've kept those feelings repressed until now but I don't know if I can do it any longer. She's just the most perfect girl I've ever met and I don't want to lose her whether that be to another guy or to the fear of what us being friends might mean for her. I have to tell her how I feel in hopes that as long as she feels the same way it gives her a reason to stick around even when things are tough like they are right now. As scary as it is I have to take the risk.

#gavi imagine #gavi imagines #pablo gavi imagine #pablo gavi imagines #gavi #gavi oneshots #football imagine #gavi x reader #pablo gavi

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