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arienotari · 4 months

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Drowning

Summary: When your worst fear becomes a reality and all you have on the other side is a brown eyed boy.

Pairing: Wally Clark x Reader

Warnings: Death, Drowning, Bullying

Edit: I am terrible at editing, and I tried my best so I'm sorry if you find any mistakes. This is my first full story I am releasing out into the world.

Word Count: 3330

I’ve never liked swimming.

People say it makes them feel free, but I felt anything but free. Every chance I got I avoided water at all costs. It's suffocating. Something about floating in a body of endless water and possibilities always made my skin crawl. One major problem that contributes to my fear is the fact that I can’t swim. I don’t blame anyone for this setback because I've never asked how to or showed interest. My inability to swim didn’t become a problem for me until my senior year of high school. I’ve gotten out of swimming class every year up until now and I had no choice but to take it. I tried to tell the swimming coach and counselors privately that I couldn’t take the class. All they said was I could stay in the shallow end. That I’ll be fine. I believed them.

Word spread quickly throughout my class that I couldn’t swim once they started noticing I wouldn’t leave the 4ft mark. I didn’t really care, all I cared about was getting through the year. I was never really popular which didn’t matter much to me but being in this class never made it more obvious how much I hated it here. I felt eyes on me at all times which only made being in the water worse.

It was March 12, 2015. Only a couple months left of school and then I’d be off to NYU living my dream of being a writer. First I had to get through 4th period swim class of course. I walked into the girls changing room preparing for the next 50 minutes of anxiety as I put my swimsuit on. I folded my dark blue jeans, my gray sweater, and a white tank top with lace on the trim that I wore under the sweater. Making my way to the pool I started putting my hair up in place of a hair cap I seem to have forgotten. Staring at the water I can see the bottom but it doesn’t stop the feeling of wanting to crawl up from my throat. Half the girls were already in the water preparing for a game of volleyball. Step by step down the ladder my hands begin to shake and my mouth becomes dry like I just ate pancakes. I make my way to the back to avoid any confrontation or any chance of being involved in the game. The one thing good about this class is it has a perfect view of the sky. I always get lost staring out at it wondering who’s also looking back. It makes me forget the situation I’m in and my environment. That's until a ball lands in front of me and about 15 girls are looking back at me waiting for my next move. I pick it up with my now calmer hands from before and spike it. Thankfully I made it over to the other side and the girls immediately turned back to the game. Not without some dirty looks but quite frankly I don’t really care. I watch as Mrs. Withers gets a call which seems to be serious as she tells us that she needs to step outside and when the bell rings to just go ahead. It’s only 10 minutes later when the shower bell rings and I feel the crushing weight lift off my shoulders. The other girls split based on which ladder they are closest to heading to the locker room and I help one of the girls get the volleyballs together. Making my way back to solid ground I rush to put the balls away not wanting to be one of the last to leave. I grab a towel on the rack near the other end of the pool as I make my way back seeing the last of everyone leaving. At least that’s what I thought until I heard someone behind me scream “Wait up” before running past me tripping me in the process. Losing my balance I watch as the one who screamed leaves the room leaving me alone. I hit the water with a loud splash waiting to hit the bottom to kick back up only to never feel my feet hit the concrete. I try to reach for the surface but everything I try seems to pull me down further. I panic, feeling my lungs on fire from filling with water. I tried to scream but no one could hear me and no one ever would. Everything was starting to go black and everything was becoming numb. All I could think about was how much I would miss out on. Finally, everything goes dark and I feel like I’m floating but I’m not, I’m being pulled up. I grab onto whoever’s pulling me up as if my life depended on it. Once I reach the surface my lungs fill with air as I begin to cough unbearably with my eyes screwed shut. I feel myself being hoisted up on the ground and out of the water. I’m pulled into the person who saved me as I am unable to move from exhaustion. When the person holds my face to center it I finally open my eyes as I am met with wide brown ones.

“Are you okay”, he’s breathing heavily as I study him blocking out his yell to someone to bring his jacket.

I feel a warm weight on my shoulders seeing its a blue and white letterman jacket out of the corner of my eye.

“Thank you for saving me” I give him a weak smile but all I get in return is an expression filled with nothing but sorrow and guilt.

Still seated on the floor I hear a horrified scream from beside me causing me to whip my head towards the chaos. Suddenly time stops and everything goes silent as I choked out a sob watching as a student and Mrs. Withers pull my body out of the water. The whole class comes to watch as they try to resuscitate me but nothing is happening. I feel the stranger push my head into his chest and I begin to cry harder than before. He repeats “I know’s” and “I’m sorry’s” as my world comes crashing down on me.

Hours later we are still in the same position my hair and clothes dry now along with a tear-dried face. It’s dark outside with only the poolside fluorescent lights to illuminate our two figures. I begin to shiver more and more as the stranger who pulled me out of the water rubs my back and arms.

“We need to get up, you're getting too cold” he whispers, pulling his body to get a better look at me.

I lift myself up getting a better look at him as well as I memorize his long structured face, beauty marks, and brown eyes. After a minute I nod and try to stand up realizing that I’m still exhausted, the position not helping adding to the pain. He helps me steady myself and fully extend as he holds my hands making sure I’m okay.

“You should take a shower and change into your regular clothes, I’ll probably do the same and I will explain everything once we're done. Okay?”, he says softly with an uneasy half-smile waiting for my response.

“Okay,” I whisper back at him not wanting to raise my voice feeling it’ll be too much to handle.

His smile fills out more as he nods and begins to turn away to do the same tasks as me. I begin to turn away as well before I realize I never got the guy's name who pulled me out of the pool and stayed with me for hours.

“What’s your name?,” I said, grabbing his arm to stop him from walking away.

He looks down at my hand holding his arm which makes me see I’m still holding onto him causing me to let go.

“Wally, Wally Clark”, he said with a wide smile that made me feel alive again for just a split second.

After warming up from the shower I changed into my clothes from before that were neatly folded. As I begin to walk out of the locker room I get a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I look back at the girl staring at me feeling disconnected from who she was or what she could’ve been. I take a heavy breath before opening the door to leave and face the reality of my situation. Stepping into the hall, the school looked unnatural to me with the lights off. I look over and see a less wet and cold Wally approach me with the same smile as before.

“How was the shower? Do you feel better?”, he asked one right after the other.

“The shower was good and I’m doing the best I can with the fact that I am already dead,” I said, peering up at him only noticing now how tall he really is.

“I know it's hard and I’m sorry it happened this way but I will try to explain everything the best I can.”, he said, extending his elbow out for me to take it as we began to walk further down the halls.

And Just like he said Wally kept his word and explained everything to me that he could. Like how we’ll never be able to leave school grounds unless we pass on. He also showed me all the other kids stuck here just like us and told me how some passed. As well as the weird support group that the kids attend in the gym. Even though he’d joke he never sugar-coated anything, which I couldn't help but appreciate. I won’t lie, the first couple of weeks were rough. I was plagued by the memory of what happened as well as the thoughts of the future I’ll never get. It definitely didn’t help that everyone at school was mentioning it and not in a sorrowful way. During those few weeks, Wally helped a lot with trying to be a distraction so I wouldn’t focus on others. I guess one of the perks of being dead is being able to duplicate belongings so I was able to get my phone and journal. I found the perfect spot on the football field to just listen to music and lie down. I’d close my eyes and imagine what life could’ve been but I knew I couldn’t do that forever, so I started to write more. It was easier to put my wishes and fantasies on pages without having to dwell on them. I usually kept my writing to myself so around 7:30 every day I’d go to my little bubble of solitude on the field and write. It was May now so the sun would start to set around 8 giving me enough light and a view.

“What are you writing?'' I suddenly hear Wally's voice right next to my ear.

“Jesus Christ Wally you scared me to death”, I said, jumping in reaction to the sudden deep voice, placing my hand on my heart and dropping my journal.

“I mean it's a little too late for that someone must’ve beat me to it.”, he said smiling at me as he sat down next to me grabbing my journal to open it.

I glare at him and snatch my journal back.

“What too soon?”, he said with a stupid grin trying to get my journal back.

“Just a little,” I said, scrunching my nose.

“No but seriously what are you writing? You come out here every day and write in that little journal.” He said leaning back on his arms a bit more to get my full face into view.

I try to hide the blush that has crept up on my face when I realize that he’s been watching me come out here. After a moment I brush my hair out of my face and am met with those famous brown eyes. I take a deep breath before explaining to him my reasons.

“I don’t want to stay stuck in the living because all it’ll do is bring harm. All I thought about for the past couple of months was what I’ll miss but I never stopped and processed my death. I’ve been hurting for all the things I couldn’t change and it caused me to push anything away, even you. So I thought why not write my wishes and wants down so they don’t stay on my mind. At least this way I can close the journal.” I said with a tiny smile looking up at him as he was staring back intently listening.

“Before I died I wanted to be a writer and I had my whole life planned out, I was going to attend—“

“NYU, I know,” he said, finishing my sentence before I could.

I watch as Wally sits up straighter and scooches closer to me before tilting his head. I can tell he’s trying to figure out what to say because he’s fidgeting with his necklace. I wait for him because there’s no point in rushing, I have all the time in the world.

“I’ve been watching you for a long time,” he says with a breath held in waiting for my response.

One of my eyebrows lifts as I tilt my head in response to the slightly weird statement.

“Oh god, that came out creepier than I meant it to. What I meant to say was even when you were alive I knew who you were.” He said laying back fully down in the grass.

I watched as he covered his eyes with his hands with a frustrated grunt like he was trying to revert into a hole.

“What do you mean?”, I said moving towards his laid position to where I’m now bent over leaning towards him leaving my crisscross position to now on my knees.

I grab his hands that are covering his eyes and pull them down to his chest as I hold them to keep him from covering his eyes again. How he’s looking at me I can tell he’s debating with himself. I wait and listen before I watch as he closes his eyes.

“The first time I saw you was during your freshman year in the library. I was looking for something to watch for group movie night. I had Rhonda yelling at me in one ear and Charlie telling me something in the other. I was getting a little annoyed but then I looked between the bookshelves and there you were.” He takes a pause to look at me and I squeeze his hand in return to continue.

“You were tucked into the corner where the bookshelves meet, where no one could see you. In your hands was The Devil’s Highway by Luis Alberto Urrea. I watched as you cried the further you got into the book. After that day I came back to the library every day to see you. I even started picking up some of the books you read, but I couldn't finish half of them though.” He said with a small smile on his face and in his voice.

He sat up which caused him to become closer to me while he took my hands instead of me holding his. He was looking at the grass for a minute while rubbing his thumbs over my knuckles. When he looked up I could see that he was tearing up making my heart ache.

“I knew you had anxiety when it came to swim class because you couldn’t swim so I’d go to try and help. Even though you couldn’t see or feel me, I was always there.” He said lifting his hand up to tuck a loose strand of my hair that fell.

His hand stayed in place as he cupped my cheek and I went to ask why he was tearing up because of this before he spoke.

“I watched you die. I was there and I couldn’t do anything until it was too late, that’s why I was there. I had to watch you struggle knowing I couldn’t grab you or even scream for help.” He said with his voice croaking with the struggle of what he’s had to go through.

My eyebrows furrowed as I watched the walls I built up crumble down with one look at him. I never knew he’d been holding in something like this for so long. If I had known I would’ve never tried to shut him out. I was scared of what had happened and how my life had ended but I never thought about him. He was always there and whenever I needed help he was right by my side. I moved from my position pulling him into a soul-crushing hug. It took him a second to respond to the sudden gesture but after a couple seconds, I felt his arms wrap around me.

“Wally my death wasn’t your fault, I need you to know that.”, I softly spoke while hugging him harder, feeling him return it.

We continued hugging for what felt like years but could never be enough for me to be satisfied. One of my arms is coming up from under his arm grappling his shoulder while the other is around his waist. His arms are wrapped around my waist and I can feel his hands rubbing small circles on my back. Looking up from being tucked away in his shoulder I notice the sun is beginning to set. I begin to pull away and when I make eye contact with him again he’s only a mere few inches away from my face. I raise my hand to brush his hair away from his face as it has flattened from the hug. My hand slips down as it trails from the side of his head to where it now rests on his neck. He’s staring at me the whole time while I do this and when I look up to meet his eyes my heart quickens. Well, I imagined it quickened. There’s something about those brown eyes I’ve grown fond of that makes me feel alive again. His eyes flash down to my lips and back up to my eyes like he’s silently pleading. I give into his wants that now become a need for me and all I can do is nod. His hand comes up to my face pulling me towards him as our lips meet. The kiss felt like everything in my little life led up to this moment. Nothing else seemed to matter to me but the boy in front of me right now who just confessed that he’d been watching me for years. Wally’s the one to pull away first. I slowly opened my eyes to look at him wanting to capture this moment forever. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear before cupping my cheek and giving me a quick peck. I can’t restrain my gleaming smile as he pulls away for the second time.

“Well I’m glad we got that cleared up”, he laughed as he spoke.

I glared at him while punching him in the arm causing him to fall back but not before dragging me down with him. I land on his chest relaxing in his touch like it’s something I've been craving but have been deprived of. We lay in comfortable silence as I felt Wally rub circles with his thumb on my hip.

“I’m glad it was you who found me. I don't know what I would’ve done” I said, being the first one to disturb the still air.

“I am too,” Wally said into my hair as he kissed the top of my head.

We lay there all night even when the stadium lights came on we just talked about everything and anything. Maybe the afterlife won’t completely suck.

#fanfic #wally clark #wally clark x reader #school spirits #television #x yn #Wally Clark fluff #milo manheim #wally clark imagines

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snowsonlylove · 1 month

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Dangerous Woman

a/n note: inspo is also from this delicious edit from topxzae on tiktok and this performance by ashley wagner. btw, i've switched my style of writing a bit and i've made it a bit more direct for i hope you don't mind + i was feeling a lil lazy so i did the sex scene in a third person pov.

Pairing: Captain!Hockey Player!Coriolanus Snow x Figure Skater!Reader

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N and Coriolanus Snow have been in an established relationship for about 5 months. Lately, things have been very stressful for Coriolanus in his job as a captain of keeping everyone in line. Today is his day off and all he wants is to spend time with his girlfriend. What started out as a sweet catch up turned a lot spicier after Y/N noticed how her boyfriend looks at her.

Fic Type: Smut (NSFW) 18+, Established relationship, Love struck Coryo, Reader slaying it on the ice (i’m kinda imagining her as an Alexandra Trusova kinda gal so do what you want with that info)

Warnings: unprotected sex (don’t do this guys, use a condom. reader is on birth control), rough pushing, harsh, cunnilingus (female and male receiving), lmk if i missed anything else

Word Count: 1.9k

Inspo: Heavily inspired by Icebreaker (my newest obsession) and the stereotype in the skating world with hockey players looking at figure skaters when they practise (horny bf and gf edition).

Disclaimer: Credits and the idea of this are based off Icebreaker so all credits go to Hannah Grace and her team. This is a spinoff of her idea turned into an established relationship version for Coriolanus Snow and Y/N Y/L/N.

Additional Info (ONLY FOR THOSE WHO HAVE READ ICEBREAKER): In this universe, there is no rivalry. All collegiate teams share the same rink and there is a bond with the hockey and the skating team prior to this occurrence.

I do not own Coriolanus Snow or Y/N Y/L/N (cuz it’s you, boo). All credits go to Suzanne Collins and her team. Song credits also go to Ariana Grande and her team.

I do not allow my works to be republished or translated under any circumstances. Any instances of this happening and YOU WILL BE BLOCKEDDD.

Also, ageless and empty blogs will be BLOCKED as this is a 18+ fic. Report my fics for no good reason and you’re blocked cuz if u don’t like it, LEAVEEEE.

Y/N and Coriolanus have been a strong couple for about 5 months now. With all that time passing, there must be some things they have learned about each other, as well as things they have not learned about each other. Weirdly enough, Coriolanus has never seen Y/N skate because of the divide in their schedule between the hockey team and figure skating team.

Coriolanus is the captain of the collegiate Academy hockey team, which makes the job more difficult for him because of how hard he has to strangle and wrangle a bunch of frat guys to go on the ice and play. This leads to him trying to find his teammates a lot, which means that he doesn’t have time to see his girlfriend skate because by the time he gets there, Y/N’s already packing up her stuff and giving him a kiss goodbye before leaving. This frustrates him. However, it doesn’t look like it would be much of an issue going forward.

Lately, the team has been going on a losing streak. About 3/4 of the team are either high or drunk off their ass in college parties and it’s driving Coriolanus crazy as it’s making them lose. Their coach has demanded that they stop it, Coriolanus even putting it as a ban but it’s still not making the younger hockey members realise that. As a result, Coach Highbottom and Coriolanus have made a decision to make them sit on the bench and think about their actions, which works great for Coriolanus since it creates a window of space in which he can get more alone time and even show up earlier to watch his girlfriend practice.

Today was the day in which Coriolanus got his free time, so he chose to watch his girlfriend train for her test skates after getting them a small box of cronuts and a coffee for both him and girlfriend as a little date after her practice before she has to go back to her dorm to study.

Coriolanus strolled into the ice rink as if he owned it that day, confident in his strides as he didn’t show his excitement in seeing his girlfriend practice in fear of people seeing how weak he was for his girlfriend. As he walked to the stands by the rink, he saw his girlfriend glide across the rink as she stretched her hands in the most delicate way possible while practising her program with her coach looking at her intensely from the stands.

“More, Y/N! More!” “Straighten the back of the knee!” “Smile!” “Don’t be so sloppy!” Coach Gaul screamed from the side of the ice rink as Y/N glided past her to do her quad before doing her triple axel flawlessly. Coriolanus sat on the edge of the stand, looking at his girlfriend almost as if he was observing her before he suddenly heard a bunch of little giggles and laughs beside him as he turned to look at the bunch of junior girls who stopped their off-ice stretching to look at his girlfriend practising her program.

“She’s so pretty..” “Literally, how does she do that?” “Oh my god, her boyfriend is so hot, someone get me a hockey boyfriend please” “I wonder how big his d-” “Oh my god, Sasha! Don’t say that!” The girls whispered amongst each other as they giggled as if they were girls from middle school. Coriolanus smirked as he pretended to cough, making all the girls look at him horrified that they realised that he heard their conversation. They all walk away with their heads down as Coach Gaul’s assistant calls the girls to start their warm-ups on the ice, making Coriolanus smirk even harder.

Coriolanus walks towards the side of the rink as he puts his hands in the pocket of his sweatpants as he watches his girlfriend converse with her coach, waiting for feedback while he stands there, entranced by her beauty. As she glides back on the ice, Coriolanus feels himself getting hard as he watches her practise her routine with her hands behind her back, making his mind go crazy with the possibility of the things they could do. Mind you, by this point they’ve hooked up quite a few times.

As Y/N comes towards the end of her routine, she finally notices her boyfriend as she gives him a small wave before doing her final moves, her coach clapping on the side of the rink. “Good job, Y/N. There are some technical things we need to work on but you’ve improved. Now, go take your leave.” Y/N nods as she bids her coach goodbye before running towards her boyfriend and tackling him with a bone-crushing hug, her boyfriend hugging her back just as hard as she squeals, “I can't believe you’re here! I thought you were on an off-day with the guys today!”

Coriolanus chuckles in a distracted way as he chides while stroking her hair, “Yeah, that’s true but the one thing I didn’t tell you was that I actually wanted to watch my darling skate today. How are you, sweetheart? Anything hurting? I brought us some donuts and coffee for breakfast?” Y/N groaned as she looked up at her boyfriend with a grateful smile, “You didn’t need to get me anything, love. I know you’ve been busy lately.. You know I’m all fine, right? I’m not a broken doll” She jokes as she raises her eyebrow, making her boyfriend smirk as he leaned down to give his girlfriend a peck on her lips before saying, “I know that, baby. But I was thinking we can do a little something as a treat for you doing so well in your practice so far.” He said in a dazed tone as he took a glance at her ass before giving it a slap, making Y/N glare at him from her current stance. Coriolanus’s dick got harder after hearing her groan as it reminded him of the several intimate interactions that he had with his girlfriend. Little did he know, Y/N saw his aching dick right as she came up to him, making the situation much more interesting as she noticed how he looked at her. Knowing how hard he’s been working, she wanted to give him a chance to relax after a long week of training.

The tension between them got a little more heated after that slap as both Y/N’s and Coriolanus’s looked at each other in a much more sensual way, their eyes having a particular sheen over it before a cough from Y/N disrupted the moment. “Okay, then. Let me get my stuff from the locker. I’ll see you later, captain…” Y/N said as she turned around and walked away, her hips swaying just a bit more to tempt her boyfriend into joining her in the locker. Coriolanus immediately took notice of this as he followed her, Y/N stopping at one point to grab his hand and interlock his fingers with hers as they made their way to the locker.

Thankfully, no one was in the locker by that time as all the skaters were on the rink preparing to start practising their programs. Y/N closed the door behind her as Coriolanus pinned her towards her door as he wrapped his hands in her hair and kissed her while her hands pressed up against his chest as she smiled into the kiss. Wet, squelching sounds echoed around the room as their tongues moulded against each other in perfect sequence as if they were made for each other. As they made out, they peeled off each other’s clothes slowly as they were wrapped up in this bubble where they were the only ones there and no one else existed.

By the time they pulled away from each other, they were both down to their underwear. Coriolanus crouched down as he peeled Y/N’s lacy red panties off her as licked a line up her slit, tasting the sweet nectar hidden under her skate wear as he hummed in satisfaction before sucking on her clit, making Y/N see stars as her moans echoed around the room. Y/N reached down to cradle her boyfriend’s head as he worked her up to a beautiful, soul-capturing orgasm, making her heave big sighs while coming down her high.

Y/N and Coriolanus gave each other a deep kiss as she tasted herself on his tongue before it was her turn to kneel down and give his aching hardness the love that it deserves. She kissed her way down his abs as she pulled down his boxers, revealing his aching, hard dick leaking with pre-cum in all its glory. The veins were clearly invisible as Y/N hummed in satisfaction before she licked the tip of his dick, savouring the taste of his pre-cum as she moaned. She continued this a few times before she went deeper and deeper until her throat reached the base of his cock, making Coriolanus groan with great pleasure as she gagged occasionally and started to work him into an orgasm by pulling her head in and out of his dick in a once slow motion before building up her speed in a way she knew her boyfriend liked.

“Ugh, so good, baby… Keep doing that, you’re gonna make me cum, sweetheart.” Coriolanus groaned as he wrapped his hand around a bunch of her hair as he guided her in and out of his dick. His groans and her moans echoed around the room as the atmosphere got dirtier before Coriolanus pushed her head closer than it’s ever been before he came with one final groan, making Y/N moan even louder at seeing his satisfaction in her efforts to please him.

As Coriolanus came down from his orgasm, Y/N pulled her mouth off him as she wiped her mouth clean of her saliva before jutting out her tongue, letting him see that she swallowed it all before she laughed a little at her boyfriend’s dark glance at her. Coriolanus’s head turned around to the side as his groan this time was animalistic as he grabbed his girlfriend from her place on her knees before him and smashed his lips with her before he turned her around and pushed her towards the door before shoving his now hard length into her in one thrust.

Both Y/N and Coriolanus let out a groan as they wrapped their arms around each other as he pushed his dick in and out of her pussy as her ass bounced back towards his dick with her force. The room now echoed with the sound of skin slapping around it, along with her louder moans and his harsher groans as he turned her face to the side before capturing her lips in another searing kiss as they both come with him holding her tits in his hands and bringing her as close to him as possible.

Y/N and Coriolanus breathed heavily as they came down from their euphoric orgasm. Coriolanus cradled Y/N’s face as he leaned in and captured her lips in little kisses as he checked over her to see if she was okay. After making sure she was okay, he grabbed a bunch of tissue paper as he cleaned them up before he helped her pack up her skating luggage before they opened the door and left the rink wrapped up in each other’s love. Little did they know, both Coach Gaul and her assistant were staring at them appalled as they overheard them while going to the bathroom a while ago.

#coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #hunger games #tbosas fanfiction #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow x you #coryo x reader #Spotify

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 5 months

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Never Say Never

Chapter 1

Pairing: SingleDad!StevexReader

Summary: You are a 32 year old single mother, raising your seven year old son on your own. After being widowed at 30 and going out on awful dates with disgusting men for the past month, you have decided that you're giving up. You already had your great love. One person can't possibly get lucky enough to have two in their lifetime. But then your son starts playing baseball and the coach might just change your mind about that.

No posting schedule. With also writing Everybody Hurts, I don't want to make promises and fall behind. I'm a working mom with a hectic life and don't always have time to write every single day. I've been wanting to write this Steve book forever and once I got the first chapter down, I couldn't wait to share it.

18+ only for eventual smut

Word Count: 4.3K

“No, Janice, it’s absolutely hopeless. I am telling you. I’m done with dating,” you sighed as you wiped the crumbs off the table and into your hand from Eli’s after school snack.

Making your way to the garbage can, you brushed them in. Grabbing the empty cup of chocolate milk, you popped it into the dishwasher, trying to stay on top of things so you didn’t have to do a last minute clean-up when all you wanted to do was go to bed.

“You can’t just give up,” your friend urged. “Come on, girl. You’ve only been on a few dates so far. I know they’ve been duds but the right guy is out there. I know he is.”

“I really don’t think he is. I’ve been on four dates in the last month and they have all been awful. And I only went on those dates because you’ve been pushing me to put myself out there, might I remind you. I was perfectly content with my life the way it was. The only guy I need in my life is my son. I’m telling you. Good guys don’t exist.”

“Except you know that’s not true because you had one.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest at the reminder. That familiar pain that tightened its hold until you felt you couldn’t breathe. It didn’t matter that it had been two years. Any mention of Justin’s name and you were instantly sent straight back there, struggling, fighting for air you couldn’t find, descending into the pitch black of despair that had swallowed you whole for far too long.

But you couldn’t let it consume you, not anymore. You knew what you needed to do. Remembering your therapist’s words, you didn’t fight it back, letting the pain wash over you for a moment. Accept your emotions. It’s okay to feel them. Let them come, acknowledge them, and then move on. Don’t get stuck. Forward motion. Always forward motion. Remember the 3-3-3 rule when it gets overwhelming.

Your eyes roamed through your kitchen, searching for three objects. The box of Scooby snacks that Eli had, the smiling face of his favorite cartoon dog looking up at you. The tulips on the table that you'd picked from your garden two days ago, bringing a little spring into the house. The bright painting to the left of the fridge that Eli had made for Mother’s Day last year, his handprints creating bright yellow and orange flowers, with the words If mothers were flowers, I’d pick you.

You felt yourself returning from the dark, your chest loosening as you closed your eyes, focusing on sounds now. Your son’s feet moving across the floor of his bedroom, a lawnmower running a couple houses down, the low rumble of a motorcycle driving down the street.

It was working. You wiggled your fingers, rotated your ankle, rolled your head around on your shoulders. 3-3-3. Three sights, three sounds, and three movements. And just like that, you were back. Hand on the table, you slowly sat down in one of the wooden chairs you'd so lovingly sanded and refinished the summer after you and Justin bought this house, opening your eyes. You were centered. You were okay. You were moving forward whether you wanted to or not.

He was gone. There was no changing that. And as much as you'd wanted to curl up and die after it happened, you knew you couldn’t. You had Eli, this sweet little soul who depended on you, who was hurting too, and you had to be what he needed. You had to pull yourself out of your grief to be the stability and strength he needed. Fake it until you make it, right? That had worked for a while until it didn’t.

“Hello?” your friend’s voice called through the receiver. “Hey, are you okay? Is it happening again? Do I need to come over? Come on. Just say something, honey.”

“No. No. I’m okay.” Your fingers pressed gently against your forehead, wondering if it would ever get easier. Everyone said it would and sometimes you could even go hours without thinking about him but when you did, it would all come crashing down around you. He’d left you alone, alone to care for your son, alone for eternity based on the dating pool out there. “Sorry. I just…I’m fine.”

“You sure? Because I’ve already got my keys in my hand and I can be there in ten minutes.”

You smiled. Of course Janice already had her keys in her hand. She was your lighthouse in a storm, your safe harbor, your source of encouragement and support. She’d been there to pick you up when you could barely lift your head. She’d been the one to convince you to go to therapy. She’d been the one to come over and cook dinner for Eli, playing games with him, amusing him so he wouldn’t notice that mommy was falling apart in your bedroom on days when you just couldn’t find the strength. Janice was your lifeline and you had no idea where you would be without her. You certainly wouldn’t be the functioning human being you were right now.

“No. Really. I promise you, Janice. I am fine.”

“Okay…but you know I’ve always got you. Just say the word, girl and I’m there. Anytime. Anything you need.”

“I know. And I love you so much for it.”

“I love you,” Janice stated. “You’re my soulmate, you know.”

You laughed, “What about Matt? I don’t think he’d appreciate hearing you say that.”

Your friend snorted, “Oh, he knows. It was part of our vows. Didn’t you know that? He took this woman and her best friend on the day we got married. He’s aware of his place in my life and he’s okay with it because he loves you too. Also, he doesn’t have a choice because he knows I’d get rid of him before I’d ever let go of you if he tried to make me choose. You’re always my first choice.”

Matt would never make her choose. Janice had met Matt a little over a year ago and they had just gotten married in July. It had been a beautiful outdoor wedding on the beach. You'd been the maid of honor. Janice hadn’t even asked you, not really, just rolled her eyes when you asked if she planned on it and said she didn’t have to ask because it should have been assumed. Eli had been so handsome in his little tux as their ring bearer. You had fought back tears throughout the day, memories of your own wedding day ripping you apart. But you'd held it together, reminding yourself that this was your friend’s day. You were supposed to be overjoyed for her, not wallowing as you tripped down memory lane.

You loved Matt and the feeling appeared to be mutual. He was perfect for your best friend. He was the rational to Aly’s crazy, the simple to her complicated, the organization to her chaos. He was absolutely crazy about her and every single one of her little quirks, including her intensely close friendship with you and Eli. He’d been openly accepting of you being their third wheel from day one.

They’d only gone on five dates when he offered to take Eli to the batting cages for a few hours so the girls could enjoy an afternoon. When Eli got back, red-faced and shiny, a huge smile on his face, you had given your friend a look that said everything without you having to speak. It said hold onto this one. And your friend had been smart enough to do just that. They were already talking about trying for a baby and you couldn’t wait to plan a shower and shop for all the cute little baby things. To be Auntie, to cuddle a sweet little one against your chest again, to inhale that delicious newborn smell.

Everyone always said it went by too fast. You'd thought they were crazy when you were in the midst of sleepless nights and a screaming baby, feeling it would never end. But they were not joking. Your sweet little baby, with his head of downy blond hair, just like his father’s, had somehow become a little boy in what felt like a span of seven minutes instead of seven years. You found yourself willing time to slow down, to let you keep him little for just a while longer, but it just kept racing ahead, leaving you frantically trying to catch up.

“So, anyway, what was so awful about this one?” Janice asked, bringing you back to the present moment.

“Ugh…what wasn’t awful? He showed up to the restaurant already drunk. He kept trying to touch me, stroking my arm and placing his hands on my thigh. He kept slurring about how he was going to show me the night of my life. He ordered spaghetti and was eating it with his fingers, just picking up the noodles and dropping them into his mouth. It was disgusting. His hand was in a cast and when I asked what happened, he told me he broke it punching out the car window of his ex because he caught her cheating on him last week.”

“Holy shit!”

“Seriously! I can’t make this stuff up, Janice. It’s so bad out here. I don’t know why women even bother trying. From the guy who seemed okay until I walked into his place and he had the pile of toenail clippings on his coffee table to the guy who asked for the barista’s number while I was standing next to him to the guy who invited his ex so she’d see him with me to this guy, I’m just done. Maybe we only get one shot at real love in our lives and Justin was mine. Maybe that’s all I get. I mean, it was only ten years but a decade of happiness is more than some people get. Shouldn’t I be happy with that?”

“No. I refuse to believe that,” Janice argued. “You are far too amazing to spend the rest of your life alone.”

“I’m not alone. I have you and Eli.”

“Yes, but one day, Eli will be all grown up and move out and start a life of his own. And yes, you will always have me but do you really want to live in that house all by yourself? Don’t you want someone to fall asleep next to, someone to wake up next to, someone to rub your feet after a long day, someone to be your person?”

“You’re my person. Justin was my person.”

“Oh, honey…”

“Janice, I just…this dating site thing isn’t for me.”

God, it was so awful. With the birth of the internet, online dating was a fairly new thing. But when you weren't getting e-mailed dick pics or getting asked if you were looking for a booty call, then you were getting tricked by guys who acted like they were normal until you met them and found out they were anything but.

“Okay. So, ditch the dating site. Honestly, it probably wasn’t the best idea but Lauren was going on and on about these hot guys she’d met on there. She said it was like a pond full of fish and any woman could have her pick of them. I figured it would be worth a shot. At least, it would be a good place to start. I should have known better. It’s Lauren. She’ll hook up with anybody and gets bored way too easily. I am sure a different guy every night is exactly what she’s looking for. Maybe you just need to meet someone more organically?”

You sighed, “And how exactly do you think I’m going to do that between work and Eli? I don’t have a lot of down time.”

“No, I know, but maybe try to pop into the coffee shop more or the bookstore? I mean, you could do the bar but you’re more likely to find a sleaze who’s just looking for a one night stand or the guy with the tan line where his ring should be. Lord knows I’ve made that mistake more than once. But a bookstore, a coffee shop, the library? You might find a nice guy there, an intellectual who reads and writes poetry in his spare time. Oh! Maybe find your own Mr. Coulson.”

“Except I’ve actually been kissed and I am not a reporter and I definitely am not passing for a high school student,” you laughed, remembering how in love you and Janice had been last year in the theater. “And trust me, Michael Vartan is not teaching at the local high school.”

“Okay, fair enough. But don’t give up. You deserve the world, my friend. You deserve a man who looks at you like you’re the moon and stars because you are. I know he’s out there.”

“Janice, I…”

“Mommy! You have to take me to baseball practice, remember?”

Your eyes shot over to your son and then up to the clock. You'd completely forgotten. After Matt had gotten him into baseball, he’d begged you to let him join the little league team this year at school. You'd dreaded having to lug him to practices and games, giving up what little free time you had, but you could never deny your son anything. Their first practice started in fifteen minutes and now you were going to be late. Just one more reason for the mothers in this town to judge you and your inability to do it all as a single mom.

“Shit! Janice, I have to go. Eli has baseball.”

“Okay. Ohh, maybe you’ll find a hot single dad.”

“Oh my god. Good bye,” you huffed, hanging up. Your brain raced, thinking back to the paper that had come home with him about practices. What did he need to bring? “Okay, okay. Eli, go grab your mitt and I’ll fill up a water bottle for you.”

Your son raced off up the stairs and you groaned, knowing he’d probably be yelling down to you in two minutes that he couldn’t find it. You grabbed his bright blue water bottle, quickly filling it with tap water. Was there anything else? You smacked your forehead loudly. Cleats! You were supposed to buy him baseball cleats and you hadn’t.

“Mommy! I can’t find my glove!”

You closed your eyes, inhaling slowly through your nose before making your way to the stairs, “I’ll find it. Just change into your athletic pants and a long sleeve shirt. And grab a sweatshirt, honey. It’s kind of chilly out today.”

Eli sat on the floor, pulling his pants on, when you entered the room. Your eyes did a quick scan, instantly finding the glove, lying on the floor right next to his bed. With a small smile and a shake of your head, you bent down and grabbed it, tossing it to your son just as he stood up, all dressed and ready.

“Ready to go?”

“But my shoes. I don’t have baseball shoes!” he yelled, pointing at his feet as if you weren't aware.

“I know buddy. I’m sorry. Mommy forgot but I will stop tomorrow right after work and grab you a pair, okay?”

“But then I won’t be ready for baseball! All the other kids are going to have the right shoes and I won’t!”

“Eli, we don’t have time to stop at the store right now or you’ll be late.” You walked up to your son, cradling his face, your favorite face in the world. Cobalt blue eyes, so like his father’s gazed up at you, anxious about not fitting in, not having the right things. “Look, I will explain to your coach. I’m sure he will understand.”

“He’s really nice. He’s Jeremiah’s dad. I like Jeremiah. He’s my best friend. We play superheroes at recess all the time. He’s Superman and I’m Batman. And sometimes we swap lunches because his dad always packs peanut butter and jelly and you always pack bologna and sometimes we like to switch. I asked you if he could come over and play and you said maybe but he’s never come over. Remember?”

You winced at your son’s words. It came back to you, months ago, Eli asking if his new best friend could come over to your house. You'd said maybe, the answer you gave when you didn’t have one or you were too busy to stop and really answer him. Being a single parent was hard. It was exhausting, often leaving you feeling like there wasn’t enough of you to go around.

“I’m sorry, buddy. I shouldn’t have said maybe and then forgotten about it. I’ll talk to his parents about it after practice today, okay? Now, come on. Let’s get going so you’re not too late.”

__________________________________________________________

You barely had the car in park before Eli was jumping out, racing across the pavement, eager to join his teammates on the diamond. You made your way over, taking in the gathering of young players, the air full of energy and excitement. Bringing a hand up to cover your eyes against the glaringly bright spring sun, you watched as Eli ran up to a young boy with a full head of caramel brown hair.

That must be Jeremiah. Wow, that kid was going to be all the girls could talk about when he got older with a head of hair like that. Eli pointed at him with a huge grin and you gave your son a thumbs up, letting him know you'd seen. He would never let you forget it if you didn’t follow through on setting up a playdate.

“Aly! Hey! Eli’s playing this year?”

“Oh, hi Tracy,” you replied with a smile as Jackson’s mom walked up with a coffee in hand. “Yeah. Janice’s husband, Matt, has really gotten him into baseball and he was so excited to play.”

“It’s so good that he has someone to stand in as a strong male role model in his life. You know, with his dad gone and everything.”

Your teeth gritted, the smile you were working so hard to keep plastered on your face now painful. Of course. You couldn’t possibly be enough for your son. He had to have a man in his life to be whole. It didn’t matter that you worked your ass off to make sure that your son never went without. It didn’t matter that you'd had to step up and work even harder, take on the job of two people. It would never be enough.

“Yeah, we’re really grateful for Matt. He’s really great. Eli just adores him.”

Tracy leaned in, looking like the cat who got the cream, your faults as a mother forgotten. “Have you seen the baseball coach?”

“No. I…I just got here but I do need to talk to him. Eli’s become best friends with his son this year and he’s never going to let me live it down if I don’t don’t talk to him about Jeremiah coming over to our house to play.”

“Lucky you. I’d do anything for Jackson to come play at our house if it meant his dad would come over to play too.”

“Umm…aren’t you married?”

Tracy laughed, shrugging, “I mean, what Tom doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right? Seriously, wait until you see this guy. I am talking about grade A beefcake, honey.” She rolled her eyes, her head following, over to the right where a man was bent forward, pulling baseballs out of a bucket. “I just want to take a bite out of it. Have you ever seen anything so delicious?”

“Ooh! Are we talking about the coach?” asked Lilian as she idled up, her tongue running along her upper lip. “Have you ever seen such a delectable slice of cake in your life?”

You grimaced. No, they weren’t wrong. The ass that was currently up in the air, making it impossible for you not to notice, was quite nice. No. That wasn’t fair. There wasn’t a Georgia peach in existence that could outdo the one in front of you. He filled out a pair of jeans better than most women did. However, the way these women were drooling over him was pathetic. They were married. They were moms. And this guy, no matter how great his ass was, was a person. He wasn’t some piece of meat to be ogled.

“Well, thanks for pointing him out to me. I think I’m going to try to talk to him before he gets busy,” you said, eager to get away from these bored, spoiled housewives who were looking for excitement to fill their monotonous days. Striding over to him, you paused, realizing you had no idea what his name was. “Uh…excuse me? Coach?”

He straightened and turned and you gasped. Oh hell. The front view was even better than the back. Two eyes, the color of honey, peered down at you, coating you in their sticky sweetness, filling your mouth, making it impossible to speak. Jeremiah came by that head of hair honestly, this man's caramel locks falling effortlessly around his face. He smiled and it was even worse, lightning striking you where you stood. His entire face was pure sunshine, warming you from the inside out.

“Yeah?” he encouraged when you hadn’t said anything.

“Uh…oh…I’m so sorry,” you stammered, eyes closing, shaking your head. What the hell was wrong with you right now? “I’m Eli’s mom, Y/N.”

His eyes lit up with recognition, his hand running through those beautiful locks. Another lightning strike, but in an entirely different place, when you realized how large his hands were. Long thick fingers that had you thinking things you really should not be while standing at a child’s little league practice. Shame filled you as you realized you were no better than those moms you'd just judged. You simple weren't saying your thoughts out loud.

“Oh! Of course. Jeremiah talks about Eli non-stop. He’s been bugging me for months to have him come over.”

“Well, that’s actually why I came over to talk to you. Eli’s been bugging me too and I promised him that I wouldn’t leave practice without setting up something with you. So…is there any time over the next week that works for Jeremiah to come play?”

“What works for you?”

“Any afternoon or evening is okay, as long as there’s no practice. But of course then Jeremiah would be unavailable too so that would be silly. And obviously, you’d be coaching so you know when there’s practice. But I, yeah, anyway, I work in a pediatrician’s office and I get off at three every day so that I can get Eli from school. So, I am available for a date. I mean, for the playdate. For the kids. To have a playdate. At my house.”

The corner of his mouth curved into an amused smile and you just wanted a hole to open up in the dirt and swallow you. Why were you tongue twisted like a fifteen year old girl who was trying to talk to the cutest guy at school? You were a thirty-two year old woman. You'd been a wife. You were a mother. You were a nurse. You were educated. You'd gone to college. You should be able to string words together to make a coherent sentence.

“How about tomorrow?” he asked and you noticed how his eyes flitted down to your left hand, your recently bare ring finger. You'd removed it a month ago when Janice had kindly urged you it was well past time. “I actually have a meeting tomorrow night and my best friend is busy so I have no one to watch Jermiah. If you wouldn’t mind him coming your way for a couple hours, it would really help me out.”

“Oh, no. That would be fine. What time?”

You did not focus on the fact that he needed a babysitter. You did not think about how it sounded like Jeremiah’s mom wasn’t in the picture. You definitely did not feel a thrill that made your stomach flip at the thought of what that could mean for you. Nope. No reason for you to care if he had a woman in his life.

“Four thirty? My meeting is at five. It shouldn’t take more than an hour so I should be there by six thirty.”

“Four thirty is great. I’ll make the boys dinner and I’m sure they’ll be more than happy to have a couple hours to play. No need to rush or anything.”

His head tilted, tongue tracing his bottom lip, one eyebrow lifting, “Or I could grab a pizza on my way over. You know, as a thank you for helping me out and everything.”

“Oh…” Your stomach twisted at his words, the drop on the roller coaster, plunging fast, fear and excitement colliding within you at the thought of him hanging out at your house. The two of you sitting at your kitchen table, sharing food, talking. Those warm eyes, like the earth when the sun comes up in the morning, staring into yours. “That would be nice. I mean, Eli will be ecstatic. He would eat pizza every night if I’d let him.”

“Great.” He flashed you that smile again and you swayed on your feet, completely dazzled by that flash of white teeth, the way his eyes crinkled in the corners.

“Daddy! Come on! Stop talking! We’re ready for practice!”

“Duty calls,” he joked, wiggling his eyebrows as he leaned in, his mouth so close to yours that you could smell the peppermint gum on his breath. “We’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah…see you tomorrow.” You stood, frozen as you watched him make his way toward the group of second graders eager to start running around the bases. No, you definitely were not checking out his ass again. Nope. Definitely not. It suddenly hit you that you still didn’t know his name. Cupping your hands around your mouth, you yelled, “I didn’t get your name!”

He turned, grinning, “Steve! Steve Harrington!”

Chapter 2

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theageofcaravel · 7 months

Text

Rose-Coloured Boy. - Jamie Tartt x F!reader

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊

MASTERLIST

Chapter I: Reeling Through the Midnight Streets

Plot: Jamie Tartt and Y/N have been best friends since primary school. The pair had fallen out once graduation hit, both of them going their separate ways; Jamie finally kicking off (pun intended) his football career, and Y/N finally walking through the doors of her cinematographer career. One day, they cross paths in the corridors of Nelson Road, Y/N getting the assignment to make a mini docuseries of one of the football clubs in England, hers being AFC Richmond.

Set during season 2 and onward.

warnings: swearing, mentions of food and alcohol

word count: 3,7k

an: HELLOOOOOO!!! im excited to write this, I'm so late to the Ted Lasso wagon, but here I am. I got the idea for this story when I was sat on my couch looking through Pinterest and then I made a board for it. This has also taken me a few days to crank out because I've second guessed the plot a couple of times but anyway, I'm watching Cody and Noel's Love Island series and its reminding me of that one episode in season 2. LMAO, enjoy <3!!!!

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊

Breathing in deeply, you closed your notebook. Looking up at your professor, you gently rapped your manicured nails upon your desk and eagerly waited to see which football club you were going to be assigned to. The hope in your chest wanted to get your hometown's very own club, having a plausible excuse to visit your home, without your parents getting under your skin..

"Y/N L/N," Professor Loughty called out your name, you quickly stood from your desk and grabbed your belongings. "Yes, sir?" you asked, an eager glimmer in your eyes. "you're gonna be in charge of AFC Richmond, I've emailed Miss Welton and have gotten the approval for you to leave right after I dismiss you, there should be a cab right outside for you. you're going to have to find which one is yours."

With a solemn nod, you breathed in, "is there any way that I could have Manchester City, perchance?" all Professor Loughty replied with a shake of his head, "sorry, Miss L/N, all final decisions have been made."

"Alright, thank you, professor." you nodded again.

"You are dismissed."

Making your way out of the classroom, you sighed disappointedly. All you really wanted was to spend time with your sister, Libby. Your built-in best friend, the person who you call often to just ramble, vent, or see how life on the other side is.

A chime of your phone pulled you out of your thoughts.

any updates?

Libby. So much for getting pulled out of your thoughts.

yeah, got Richmond :/ BUT I promise I'll make it up to you. I'll visit soon.

:( okayyy I love youu

"Y/N!" pocketing your phone, your attention was now averted from your patronising thoughts to that of your best friend. "Bee! Hey." you smiled and waited for your friend to fully approach you.

"Who'd ya end up gettin'?" the Irish girl asked in her usual chipper tone.

"Richmond, I wanted Man City."

She scrunched her nose. "Mmm, ain't that the team with that American coach?" Bee added with a raise of her eyebrows.

"Think so, so I guess it's not all bad.. could be interesting.." You spoke with a shrug which only earned you a light chuckle from the brunette. "Well, I'd certainly hope so. you have to be around him and the team for how long?"

"'Til the end of the semester."

Bee nodded at your reply. "sounds miserable."

"Oh, piss off. Don't you have to write an album by the end of the semester?" you clapped back, causing Bee to only snicker with a shrug.

"Yeah, but that's easy."

"Right, as if you haven't been in a song writing block for the past month or so." freezing in her place, Bee shook her head and glared playfully at the other.

"Exactly. Anyway, I've gotta get going, gotta get my essentials." you said to Bee, embracing her in a hug. "See y'tomorrow?"

The taller girl nodded and walked away with a wave. "See ya, nugget."

You shook her head, that nickname was never going to go away. Walking your merry way over to the line of cabs, you nervously talked to the first cabbie. "Um, which one is the one for Y/N L/N?" you asked and gripped your books close as if they were some sort of security blanket. The man behind the wheel grunted and pointed to the one behind him.

"Should be that one down there, yeah." he replied and basically shooed the girl away. with a breath, you found the cab you were supposedly assigned and sat in the backseat.

"Was ordered to head to your place, where to miss?" The driver asked with a kind smile in which you replied with your address.

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊

Unlocking your door quickly, you ran into your living room and grabbed your bag full of all the necessities you needed for the months ahead of you; camera, clip in microphones, etcetera. Richmond was only 30 minutes away, which, in hindsight, was better than having to travel four hours per weekend.

With no second thought, you grabbed your water bottle and slung your bag over your shoulder. Taking one last look around, you let out a satisfied huff and headed back outside to the car.

"Alright, Miss L/N, we're headed to Richmond. s'about a 30 minute drive from here." the cabbie, who you learned that his name was Franklin, 'frank for short,' is what he told you, said. He was a nice old man, probably in his early sixties. He was good at keeping up the small talk, asking you about what it is that you’re going to be doing with Richmond. Telling you that before he was a cab driver he was a guitarist in a band, a small one at that. You both bonded over music, You telling him that your best friend is a singer and that sometimes Bee'll get you together to mess around because you have been playing the guitar since you were little but never really pursued anything musically because it wasn't of interest.

Eventually Frank had pulled into Nelson Road, the drive seemed a lot faster than it really was because of how easy it was to talk.

"Thank you, Frank. I'll see you at 5, right?" You asked and the older man nodded. "Have a good rest of your day." You saluted him and walked up to the doors of the stadium. Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you entered the building.

Absentmindedly walking down the corridors, you looked around at the walls and folded your arms across your chest looking at the trophy wall; all the history and old photos of Richmond littered within it.

"Excuse me?" a voice spoke from behind you, startling you slightly. You were met with a grin from a lanky looking boy. "Are you lost?" he asked and you only shrugged.

"Guess you could say that." you chuckled awkwardly and lifted your shoulders. "Um, I'm looking for Miss Welton's office. Got lost in thought though."

"Ohhhh, are you Y/N L/N?" the boy asked with a head tilt. In which you responded with a nod. "I can show ya where to go, follow me." he moved slightly before the other nodded and followed behind him.

"Are you the.." you started, "kit... man?" knitting your eyebrows together and stuffing your hands into your jacket's pockets.

"Yeah, I am." he nodded and grinned and stopped at the door to Rebecca's office. "Well, this is it. I'm Will by the way." he said and stuck out his hand for you to shake. You took his hand thankfully.

"Thank you, Will. It was nice to meet you. I'll see you around, yeah?" You waved him goodbye and gently knocked on the slightly open door.

"Come in," a voice shouted, the nerves finally kicking in. Pushing the door open, you were greeted with a warm smile from probably the most beautiful woman you had ever seen. "Hello."

"Errr, hi." you awkwardly smiled, "I'm--"

"Y/N, I've been expecting you." Miss Welton cut the other off, that smile that she held never fading. "Come, sit." she gestured to the chair opposite from her desk. You nodded and set your bag on the floor.

"Okay, um, hi." an awkward smile wavered over the girl's features. Rebecca leaned into her desk, automatically drawn to the way you were acting; that shell she knew she needed to crack.

"Promise I don't bite." the blonde jested which caused you to somewhat get comfortable. "Anyway, we're excited to have you. the boys have been raving about having a cinematographer here to film their every move."

"Thank you for the opportunity, Miss Welton."

"Call me Rebecca."

"Okay.. thank you for the opportunity, Rebecca." you corrected yourself which earned an approving nod and smile from the other. "I'll be here every other day after the school day, during the weekends, and during every game. Even travelling ones, I got the okay from my professors when we learned that this assignment existed."

Rebecca nodded, knowing said information but not wanting to interrupt the girl. "You don't have to start right away, if you want I can introduce you to the boys and everyone else."

With a nod, you pushed herself up off the chair and reached for your bag. "you can leave that in here, we’ll be coming back in here to discuss everything needed.”

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊

"This is where the boys have physio, you shouldn't have to come here." The pair chuckled and then Rebecca stopped by a blue door where chatter could be heard inside. "and this is the kit room, where the boys change and where the coaches offices are."

“It smells like sweaty ass in here, just warning you.” the blonde jested, causing you to scrunch her nose. "Shall we?" she asked and you nodded. With a gentle knock on the door Rebecca peeked in. "Everyone decent?" she asked, to which all the boys replied in unison with a 'yes'. smiling contently, the taller lady pushed the door open and pushed you in front of her.

"OI." she announced, "everyone this is, Y/N L/N, our cinematographer from the University of London." everyone cheered happily, most just yelling what sounded like mixes of 'LETS GOOOO', 'FUCK YEAH', and 'WICKED'.

At the sound of a familiar name being called, Jamie looked up and went wide eyed. Holy fuck.

Quickly standing up from where he was sitting, you both made eye contact. Brows knitted together, your eyes looked above his head, the words, ‘TARTT’ in big bold letters made you realise that your suspicions were correct. “No way, Jamie?” you asked and breathed out.

The entirety of the room suddenly went quiet, or so it seemed. You apprehensively walked toward him, Rebecca watching you with a look of confusion. Maybe you were just a fan that he’s seen from time to time? No, that wasn’t the case and she knew it the moment you guys both stared at each other with some form of intensity from you and an apologetic look from him. You looked like you wanted to walk over to him and smack him across his face and he looked like he wanted to wrap his arms around you and tell you how sorry he was.

“I–” Jamie started and made his way closer to you, you dryly chuckled.

“No, I just got here, we can talk later.”

He nodded at your cross response and backed away. You introduced yourself and learned everyone’s names, the coaches were in their office in some sort of meeting and Rebecca told you that you’d be able to meet them later.

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊

Back up in Rebecca’s office, you both went over how you were planning on filming. Going over recording some of the boys separately in their element, interviews, etcetera. You also learned that Rebecca was really easy to talk to, like a best friend.

“Alright, Y/N, I must ask,” Rebecca started, handing you a cup of tea. “Back in the locker room, what was that with you and Jamie?” taking the cup and bringing it to your lips, you sighed.

“We go way back, we met back in primary school and we were attached at the hip up until high school. There were moments when our close friends suspected we were a couple.” You trailed off, “but once we graduated everything just kind of.. Fell off, we both went our separate ways. I tried to get back into contact with him but he would say that he was busy or he’d just flat out ignore me.” you looked over at Rebecca to see her eyebrows raised.

“Sorry, that’s kinda personal innit? Haven’t known each other much.” you said and she just shrugged.

“It’s alright, we’re gonna be getting rather close these next few months, it's a good start for now.” she responded to you, the worry that was on your face was slowly replaced by a warm smile.

“Guess you’re right.”

“‘Course I am, Y/N. ‘Course I am.”

You chuckled and shook your head, taking another sip of your tea. “On another note, I’m quite excited for all of this. Richmond is already so .. nice. I felt welcome the moment I walked in.”

“It does that to you, wait until you meet Ted though, you’ll feel even more welcome.”

As if on cue, there was a gentle knock on the door followed by a man with a moustache walking inside with a beaming grin, “well, howdy y’all.” he greeted. You smiled up at him and stood from your seat, placing your halfway finished mug down on the coffee table.

“Y/N, this is Ted.” Rebecca said. You stuck your hand out for him to shake.

“Nice to meet you, Ted.” You said and he only beamed at you.

“Welcome to the family, Y/N/N.” he replied, your eyes went wide at the sudden nickname. “Its okay if I call you that right? Only seems right with your name.” He chuckled and you nodded.

“Only if I get to call you ‘Teddy’ or somethin’. What's Ted short for anyway?” You asked him, the shift in your demeanour from earlier was like you’ve been here for weeks. “Theodore.” Rebecca chimed in and you grinned over at her and crossed your arms over your torso. “Hmm, then ‘Theo’ will have to do.”

Ted, or Theo smiled from ear to ear. “Glad to hear it, I’ll see y’around.”

You waved the man goodbye and sighed happily. Rebecca stood up from her spot on the sofa and brushed her dress out. “Alright, so, now that we’ve gone over everything, is there anything that you need before you head out for the rest of the day?” she asked you and you shook your head to look down at your watch.

“Nah, I think I’m good.” You said and walked over to where your bag was. “Didn’t even need this today, came over prepared.” chuckling lightly, you leaned down to pick it up.

“Thank you again for being so warm and welcome,” you looked at Rebecca and held your hand out for her to shake it. She took your hand happily, “I’ll see you next week then, to start your work process?” she asked you and you nodded.

“Mhm, yep, and I’ll have everything we went over.” you smiled at her and then bid her farewell.

Walking out of her office and down the stairs you were met with a waiting Jamie, his phone in his hands in a way to distract him. When he heard your footsteps hitting the stairs, he pocketed his device and looked up at you.

“You waited for me.” you said with a raised brow and he nodded.

“Yeah..” he started and you stood in front of him. “I just wanted to .. dunno, apologise?”

“For what? Leaving me alone to think you forgot about me for six years? D’you think I’m just gonna walk right into your arms and accept your apology?” you spat and he took it in. you looked like a wounded puppy and he just wanted to fling forward and hold you. To tell you that everything was gonna be alright and that he wouldn’t dream of doing that to you again.

“Right, right. Yeah, m’sorry ‘bout that.” he looked down at his trainers and nervously gripped his body bag’s strap. “D’ya think we could.. Dunno, go for a walk and talk ‘bout it all?” he asked you, a plea in his eyes.

“I can’t. I have to go back to London, my cabbie is waiting for me.” you replied and rocked on your heels.

“What about when you come back?”

“Dunno, I don’t think I wanna hear some bullshit excuse as to why you left me in the dust.”

“Please, Y/N.” he pleaded, “we don’t even have to talk for long. If you decide that you don’t want anything to do with me or listen then you can walk away.”

You sighed in defeat, “fine.”

He nodded, trying to hide the victorious smile on his lips but failing.

“Wipe that smug grin off your ugly mug before I do it for you.”

“Aye aye.” Jamie responded, that was the Y/N he knew all those years back, and you walked away with a sigh and a shake of your head.

God this was so fucking weird.

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊

Once the next week rolled around, you told Bee how you bumped into Jamie, whom you might’ve told her about once or twice.. Or a few times whilst drunk. Telling her stories about how you were, “sooooooo mad at him for ghosting me like that. I loved him ssooooo much and he goes and does that.”

At 10am, Frank pulled into the car park of Nelson Road and you bid him farewell when gathering your belongings. You walked inside, instantly greeted with that family-like haze. A smile wafted on your features, nodding in acknowledgement at whomever passed by.

“Good morning, Y/N/N!” Ted said when you walked by him on your way up to Rebecca’s office. “Mornin, Theo.” you smiled at him and gave him a high five.

The rest of the morning went pretty well – You and blondie, new nickname (Ted approved), going over what you guys went over on your first day, you setting up everything you needed, using one of the meeting rooms as a place to have special interviews for the boys when the time came and making a makeshift desk of one of the tables for when you needed to edit or when you when you weren’t filming.

When lunch time approached, Rebecca asked if you wanted to join her, but you told her that you wanted to make sure that everything was working properly because once everyone was back from the lunch break you were going to record the first of many parts of the boys’ training. She gave you a thumbs up and you were on your merry way to set up a camera outside.

“Headed outside?” a familiar Mancunian accent asked you, you stopped in your tracks and turned toward the voice.

“Mhm, yep.” You said, your change in demeanour going from steadfast wanting to get the hell out.

“Need help?” he asked you, a pleading look in his eyes. You looked down at the gadgets you had in your hands. Setting said things up on your own would not be easy, especially when you don’t have a whole crew to help you with lighting and every other necessity that came with filming.

With a defeated sigh, there was really no point in doing it on your own when the other offered help, you looked at him. “That would.. Be nice,” you started, trailing off, “but aren’t you supposed to be at lunch with the guys or somethin’? Don’t wanna be a bother or anythin’, I’m sure I can manage on my own.”

“Nah, s’no problem. Promise.” he placed his hand on his chest, “Not really hungry anyhow.” he nodded and stepped in front of you to open the door out to the pitch.

“Thanks.” You said and smiled at him thankfully. He nodded and you looked around.

“Hmm, hey, Jamie?” you asked, and he turned to you with his eyebrows up. “Where d’ya reckon would be the best spot to film?”

He pointed to a spot beside where he said that Ted and Beard usually stand and watch, “You can practically see everything from here, but you might have to change directions of the camera every now and then.”

You shrugged and leaned down to unpack your best camera for the outdoors, “that’s fine, its my job anyway.” you set up your tripod and turned your camera on. Looking into the lens, you adjusted the lighting.

“So, Y/N..” Jamie said and stood in front of your camera with some sort of lopsided grin, “D’ya think we could do that talk right now?”

You looked up and huffed, “dunno, are you gonna get out of my way?” he shrugged and moved from the focus. “What is there to really talk about anyway? You ghosted me for years. You didn’t even wish me a happy birthday, or send christmas cards.” With one final twist of your lens you stepped away and looked at Jamie who scratched his neck.

“Yeah, don’t really have an excuse for that. Other than being a professional footballer ‘n all.”

“Yeah, but you still could’ve said something, that's not really a valid excuse.” you replied and gave him a stern look. “Remember what I said about bullshit excuses, Tartt?”

“Wait, no,” he looked at you with a panicked look. “There's really nothin’ that excuses me actions, but please know that I am sorry. I haven’t forgotten about you all these years, y’know.”

“Then why the fuck did you stay silent for so many years? I gave up trying to reach out to you after my twenty - first birthday. Tried seein’ if you wanted to come celebrate and maybe catch up and you NEVER responded.” you placed your hands on your hips and you could see the guilt written all over his face.

“Yeah.” you responded, “but I’m an adult and I ended up forgiving and forgetting until the universe decided to have us cross paths again.” you half jested, Jamie’s lips curling upward just a tinge. “How about I make you a deal?”

He quirked his brows up and you responded with a sigh. “I will forgive you.” you said and watched as his face changed from curious to excited. “If,” you paused, only egging him on, “you promise that it won't happen again, even after this project is done and over with.”

Looking at him expectedly, the brunet stepped forward and engulfed you in a bone crushing hug, the only kind he’d give you after something good happened or after you had a meltdown in front of him. “Cross me heart, Y/N.”

You smiled against his shoulder and hugged him back briefly, only to pull away and stick out your pinky. “Pinky promise me, James.” you said, the full name throwing him off slightly. He intertwined your fingers and you both leaned down to press kisses to your thumbs, sealing the deal.

“Pinky promise.”

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊

Alright, STINKIES!!!!!! Let me know if you wanna be on the tag list n stuff!! I'll try to get a few more chapters out this week! They'll probably be a bit shorter, some fillers, some not, etcetera!! ANYWAY!! Thank you for reading <3

#jamie tartt #afc richmond #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x y/n #ted lasso #rebecca welton #roy kent #Colin hughes #reader insert #female reader #richmond

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bigwishes · 2 years

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Hey I am in dire need for some help!

I'm a 6'4 handsome jock, big beefy muscles, a deep baritone voice and got every guy on the team begging to suck my 8.5-incher.

I know this al sounds amazing and fuck yeah it is.. but the last few days I felt weak, not like I was sick or anything, but like my strength started leaving me. I heard a lot about your wishes where people drain their bullies or the jocks of their school. I'm an upstanding person, I have helped go up against bullying even from my teammates, I've helped my younger brother in the gym when he didn't know what he needed to do, even coach thinks I have everything he needs to become state champion this year.

So please save me from loosing all my hard worked size, I don't even know who is doing this to me.

Oh no you're losing muscle?!?!?! well we can't have that. The truth is mate I know exactly what is going on and who is doing it to you. A new student at the college gym always wanted to work out but his parent's never let him, worried it might stunt his growth. He desperately wanted to catch up and asked if I could put everyone in the gym's gains on him for the next week. Nobody noticed but you've got a keen eye and seem to notice what's going on so I tell you what I'll stop this guys wish, tell him to wish for something new and as a reward for being so perceptive I'll make you the new focus of the wish. Get you your gains back from the past few days and give you the gains of everyone who goes to the gym for the next week.

Day 1 was dope as fuck, your muscle felt pumped again, you were no longer tired after lifting and you felt incredibly solid after a workout. You were happy to be yourself again, working towards you goals. As much as you had prided yourself on hard work and being natural you were low key excited for a little magical boost, just a couple pounds of muscle from magic surely would still make you natural, after all the gains being sent your way are still gains worked for, just not gains worked for by you.

Day 2 was even better, whole fuck you were pumped all the time, you probably didn't even need to go to the gym but you wanted to, you loved the gym and didn't want to take the week off because you were getting free gains. After all it was like working double time getting swole, you were excited for the state championships in a few months and to go home and see your brother and show off your gains. The Christmas dinner keeps running in your head of him asking you how you got massive and you just saying diet and exercise. the thought of entering a bodybuilding comp crossed your mind, you were getting huge and its not like you could test positive for roids, and you'd never be tempted by them either.

Day 3 was different, you woke up at 12:01am on the dot and felt an insane pump, it wasn't slow and every lasting like how day 2 was this was fast, like a flood of blood throughout your whole body, like you were being pumped up like a balloon,

You struggled on your bed feeling more and more mass being added to your frame. The growth finally subsided and you passed out.

You struggled driving your car to the campas gym, the seat was uncomfortable and your thighs and swollen up so big you gym shorts felt like they were cutting off the circulation to your legs, maybe you should take the rest of the week off....or maybe ask for the growth to stop now....

Day 4 was a struggle, you had another growth surge in the middle of the night and it really set in just how much mass hundreds of people using the 24 hour gym daily can make. You would be fine to be like this, it'd be awesome and absolute easy win at state championships followed by sponsorships, you could drop out and be paid by supplement companies to simply pose with their products, but you couldn't get bigger than this, anymore size and you wouldn't even be able to get in your car anymore, no, you had to text the genie and ask for it to end early.

Day 5 was hell, you had a growth spurt in the middle of the gym changing room, bringing a whole new meaning to the words "Changing Room" not a single person in there noticed, like the magic was just making everyone thing you were always this big. Your coach had commented on how genetically gifted you were, apparently you had been made to do a random roid test several times and always come back clean, something you had no memory of. Going through old social media posts you saw you were much bigger in high school then you actually were, like the past was changing to accommodate for all this new found size.

Still after today you knew you didn't want anymore, even your best friend stood next to you as your posed your hulking frame in the mirror.

"bro, there is such a thing as too large, slim down for a few months or you'll be off the team for being too slow"

He was right, the new size was impacting your ability to play, one strong and fast you were now just strong, a brick wall no one could get by sure but what was the point it you couldn't chase a guy down or move your arms properly to catch the ball.

Day 6 was spent messaging the genie all day different combinations of "I wish to be smaller" or "please stop the growth now" any phrase you could think of to try to get the genie's attention to stop the growth. What your young mind thought would be cool t first turned into your biggest nightmare, you had outgrown your car and you couldn't even sell it for a new one as last time you got out of it you completely caved in the drivers side by simply shutting the door. You spent an hour walking to the gym, the only thing to clear your mind was lifting weights. During a rest your daily does of growth kicked in, your pecs and traps were swelling so close to your neck you could barely turn your head anymore.

Day 7, the final day of growth. You had become a fucking monster. Lost your place on the team from barely being able to move. You were staving all the time and spent most of your day now shovelling food down your throat as simply waling down the dorm room stairs caused you to burn a whole day's work of calories for any normal guy. You were anxiously awaiting today's growth and spent the whole day locked in your room. Everything around you was destroyed, unable to handle all the strength you had busted most things you touched and your furniture had all collapsed. Cheap college budget furniture could barely hold your weight how you were before all this but now it was just scrap wood and metal on the floor, you couldn't even bend down to pick it up. The whole day passed you buy and you saw the time 11:30pm...any moment now your final growth would happen and then you could figure out how to reverse it, or live with it. You tried to think positively, how awesome it would be to be an absolute monster, how much action you'd get. A deluded lie you told yourself, the truth was after what you did to your care you were terrified to go on a date or out for a hook up, every time you thought about it you could only think about accidently breaking the guys spine, but you'll finally get to figure all this out in just a few minutes, after tonight no more growth, just learning to live with the size. A message appear on your phone, from the genie, maybe he had finally seen your messages, maybe he'll shrink you back to how you were a few days ago, maybe you'd get punished for turning away the gift and turned into a twink....but being a twink would be better than this.

"hey bro, hope you are enjoying all the mass from the guys in the gym, today is gonna be a bit different. I explained what was going on to the original wish maker and he felt shitty and made a new wish, he wanted the nicest guy in the gym to triple in size and well I have decided you're nicest guy! you've been great carrying your team and just being a nice guy in the gym so I dunno how big you are now mate but I hope you always dreamed to be massive. If you've gotten too big from this tell me now and Ill stop the wish but after 11:59pm thats it, it goes through and nothing I can do about it"

You laughed loudly, this was your chance, to get the body from a few days ago, be a massive goliath but not be too big. Thank god. 11:45, still heaps of time. You excitedly went to message back but your phone slipped out you massive hands. Instinctively you went to catch it before it landed on the floor *CRUNCH...you opened your hand to see bits of crushed aluminium and glass slip out your fingers and on to the floor. You stopped, in shock you simply got off your bed and walked to the bathroom mirror. No one had gotten shell shock from breaking their phone before but you just stood in your bathroom, barely big enough for you to fit in and stared at yourself in the mirror. You thought you had become a monster, no, you were a freak, a massive freak of nature but in just a few more minutes, then, then you'd truly become a monster and there was no way for you to stop it now.

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

Morphs in the story done by the incredibly Max Morphs check out their blog and show them some love.

Here:https://www.tumblr.com/maxmorphs

#male transformation #muscle transformation #muscle #male tf #reality change #tf story #muscle morph

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starseneyes · 1 year

Text

Chenford - Lucy Chen / Tim Bradford - The Rookie - Season 5 - Ep 21

"Going Under" AKA "Going Down in the Laundry Room"

We made it home just in time for the episode, but I was too worn from the events of the day to finish last night. So, here it is, your Meta.

SPOILER ALERT: Look, I don't spoil those who want to remain unspoiled, which is why there's a cute "Read More" button. But as soon as you click that, you're on your own. You will be spoiled. Sorry, not sorry.

All squared away? It's time to dive in!

Lucy and Tim Brief the Team

There's something very powerful about seeing Lucy and Tim standing up there to tell everyone about the Op.

It throws me back to Lucy's first Under Cover assignment when an angry Tim perched outside the door, arms crossed, while Lucy sat as a member of the briefing.

Now, Sergeant Second Class Bradford and... what the hell!?

Where's Lucy's promotion, dagnabbit?!

Look, I'm really not trying to complain after the feast we got in this episode. But, it really does strike hard when you're thinking about earlier seasons and how far Tim has come professionally.

I really hope the "Lucy wants to make Detective" story line continues this season or beginning of next.

"Which is where Officer Chen comes in. She'll be going undercover..."

It's good that Tim's the one who's introducing this, and we're continuing our thread of, "Tim is trying to be okay with this."

Also, again, a long way from Tim being pissed about Lucy going UC. The growth has been massive. I think it's important to acknowledge that even as we spend this episode highlighting how much further these two have to go.

The need for continued growth does not cancel out the growth already achieved. Work is work, and when you put it in, it matters.

"Until further notice, if you see Officer Chen out in the world, don't acknowledge her."

And, I'm thrown back to Lucy's Op at the end of Season 3, when Tim and Jackson came across her with the traffic stop. I remember Jackson asking Tim how to play it, and Tim coaching him through.

"I called Hard Luck." "Really? He's such an unreliable CI."

Gosh, I love how these two talk to one another. Again, we've come so fucking far.

And I know I'm waxing nostalgic, a bit, but I think that's natural for an episode of this magnitude. Lucy hasn't done more than a short stint undercover op in many seasons.

And this is the first time we get to see these two handle it as a couple.

Every other time they've done this, Tim was a TO or a coworker. Now, he's Lucy's Shower Sex Sweetie and Quality Quickie with a dash of Down-And-Dirty-All-Night-Long-Hottie.

It's bound to change the dynamic. But one thing that I love about this scene is how equal they are.

Sure, Lucy doesn't have the rank, but she's no longer "sir"ing Tim (unless he asks for it in the bedroom... or shower... or wherever role playing activities might transpire).

"He knows it's important to me." "Aw... undercover love." *giggle*

Y'all, I'm giddy. Like, legit was grinning like a fool. And after the day I've had, that's no small miracle.

Also, it feels like Eric Winter almost broke, and like Melissa O'Neil did. I have no intel on this, and I might be completely off-base, but there was something about his little quirk of the lip and double-take that would definitely have set me off if I was working opposite him in that scene.

"Jamie Hall." "You all set up Jamie?" "Yeah, all good."

So. Fucking. Cute.

I just love that Tim's the one outside keeping an eye on her (even if my subconscious is trying to connect the dots between IA paperwork, possible liabilities of Tim overreacting or losing his cool, and what happens if he uses the wrong name by accident, etc).

He is the protector. And being involved in the Op is easier for him to handle than not being involved.

Think about it... we know that Isabel would go away for months at a time and Tim felt like he couldn't breathe the whole time. He didn't know about the people she met. He didn't know anything.

He told Isabel that Lucy was different, and I think we all can see that Chenford can be different. But without communication, they're doomed.

Golly, that sounds dramatic. Like that old shipping commercial where everyone is doomed. Yeah, like twelve of you reading understand that reference, and I'm leaving it anyway.

But, I truly believe communication is the foundation to a strong relationship. And I'm not just saying that because I happen to hold two degrees in communications.

Tim and Lucy have the benefit of an established relationship based on trust and respect. But learning to effectively communicate your needs, wants, fears, aversions, and desires as a couple is completely different.

"Are you good? .... "Are you good?" "Do you mean do I miss you already? Nah, I'm fine." "You are such a jerk."

This is so me and Matt coded. And, yes, I'm Lucy in this scenario. Can't tell you how many times I've affectionately called Matthew a jerk and he's shared that same satisfactory smirk on Tim's face afterwards.

"Hey, will you keep an eye on Tamara for me? You know, just check in on her every once in a while." "Of course. Yeah, don't worry about her. I'll keep an eye on her. You just focus on the job."

Tim is really trying to be amazingly supportive for her. And I love this little reminder that Tim does have his own place.

Yes, for production purposes we're spending a lot of time at Lucy's (that I head-canon is because she lives closer to the station).

Also, Tim doesn't hesitate to watch out for Tamara. There was a time he only referred to Tamara as "Lucy's Puppy", but now they're family.

"How long do you think this will take?"

Excuse me, we're getting a montage!?! Like, a montage with voice over provided by our intrepid duo? Be still my beating heart!

Y'all don't understand. I was a Voice Over artist for two decades. So, when I see actors who can also do voice over well, I get super hyped.

Melissa O'Neil and Eric Winter decided to make me gawk at their talent even more tonight. Gee wiz! Like, it's possible they recorded their audio together, but more likely they were each in comfy clothes in the booth solo on completely different days.

And the chemistry. still. freakin. works. That's talent, my friends.

Look, some people crush VO and some people don't. Just watch (or don't watch... maybe with shrooms nearby) the Star Wars Holiday Special animated section to see what I mean.

I'm not gonna name names, but it was really easy to call which Star Wars actor was going to go into voice work later and which one really shouldn't have been asked to do that long VO for Blade Runner.

"Oh, do not finish this season of Top Chef without me." "I can't make any promises."

Y'all, this is so me and Matt coded! Now, Top Chef is my show and not Matthew's. I even keep it on in the background when I'm working or writing a screenplay.

Yes, I know most people don't work that way. I'm weird. I've come to terms with it, and I like me—weird and all.

But we totally have our shows where we say, "You better not watch this without me!" And, usually, I'm the one to screw it up. Mostly by accident!

Matthew always reminds me of Mean Girls. He wanted to see it in theaters. I said to hold off. Then we were in the video store (yes, we're old) and he offered to rent it, but I said to hold off. The third time was a year later when he remembered we hadn't seen it.

Except I accidentally caught it on TV totally forgetting we said we'd watch it together. Eep!

Also, after Lucy complaining about her ex watching too many cooking shows after his wrists were slit, I find it interesting she actively watched them with Tim.

Just goes to show cooking shows were never the problem. *cough* dead weight puffed chicken *cough*

"You ever wish you has a normal job?" "One where people don't shoot at you? Not once." "Yeah, me, either."

I love how easy their conversation is. These are the little things that add up to big things when you're building a relationship. And some mastermind in the Writer's Room thought, "What if we advance their relationship while advancing the episode's story via VO?"

As much flack as VO sometimes takes (and I'm actually a VO fan), I adore this choice.

We don't need to meet all the people in the office and establish relationships with them. It doesn't service the story or our core characters. So, we're letting Tim and Lucy—two characters we adore—carry us through via the VO. It's bloody beautiful.

Also, I love the pacing of this episode. Love it. There's an effortlessness to the timing of the edits and the passage of time via wardrobe change is so beautifully done.

I know we have the Super giving us time stamps via dates, but those are almost superfluous because we can visualize the journey via other cues. It's stuff like this that makes me bloody giddy.

"Making any friends?"

This. Is. So. Cute. Tim is actually keeping Lucy sane, here, I'm convinced! Remember her last UC assignment where she had to check in via phone? She was bored out of her mind.

"Is the monotony getting to you?" "I don't mind it... I just don't want it to all be for nothing."

This is so interesting to me. The word choice, I mean. This is how I felt about the infertility drugs... it couldn't all be for nothing.

I'm not going to get into the whole thing, here. But, I dealt with multiple years of infertility for my kids. For a while, I had to be on this medication—letrazole. Most people have minor reactions on it. I had almost all the weird/severe reactions.

But it got my follicles to optimum size for ovulation. It wasn't all for nothing.

There are things we put ourselves through willingly, sometimes, that to an outsider might seem strange. But we have a reason for what we're doing—and a hope that it's the right thing to do.

"Why don't we go for a walk?"

It's not Chenford, but I gotta call out my on-screen bestie for using her brains on this one to prevent Frank from taking her to a second location. Well done.

Tim Pretending to Be On the Phone

Fierce protector is there. Now, I'm turning off my subconscious brain on this one, and I'll explain why at the end. But, I did think it was a nice touch to have Tim on the phone, here.

There's something about this episode that felt like a dash of Alias was sprinkled onto the souffle. It's already an abundant hour that could feel bloated, but instead is rich and decadent. But that added spice is palpable in the shooting and editing, especially.

That over-the-shoulder shot of the landscape when Tim's watching them feels hand-held, giving us that sense of something being off-kilter and unstable.

When Tim hangs up, it's a shot of his torso, out-of-focus, with the real action behind him. There are layers to how this is shot, and it's so reminiscent of a spy movie in the best ways.

The whole episode is already elevated by Michael Rooker. But the script and pacing and directing and editing all feel like they've risen to the occasion, too.

"I was bored to early onset rigor mortis."

But this is a part of UC life. It's the "hurry up and wait" that is strangely a huge part of life in the film/television industry, as well. Like, a huge part.

It could be waiting for the sun to set so you have the perfect lighting, waiting for an actor on set, waiting for notes, or even a Writer's Strike if it comes to that.

UC often means embedding for months at a time before getting what you're going after. It's something for which Tim and Lucy must prepare. And I feel like this episode is the perfect vehicle to get us there.

"Like a date?" ... "odds are he's hoping for a little something-something."

Tim is having a hard time, and Grey knows it. I love how he casts a glance Tim's way on this line, sensing his unease.

Let's be real—Grey saw Chenford coming before they did. And he's the one really tuned into Tim, here.

Tim can't help walking her to the door, holding it open for her, even if he knows he can't touch her. He's concerned.

"You okay?" "Five by five." "You gotta treat this like any other op and treat Lucy like any other UC." "I know."

I'll be honest, when I first watched this scene, this is what I wrote: UGH. I don't like what's being set up. Please don't let Tim fuck this up. Please don't let Tim fuck this up.

I have never been so happy to be wrong about my read on a scene. I seriously worried we were setting it up for Tim to be the liability in all this, and I'm grateful that's not the direction it went.

This show has a history of showing couples working through bad times, tough situations, close calls. The core couples suffer as much as any Austen heroine—and they come out alright in the end. I'm grateful to see that tradition continue with Chenford.

"Okay."

First off, I have to admit that I giggled when Lucy's head popped up. I know it's a completely inappropriate response, but all I could picture was one of those Whack-A-Mole's at the Chuck-E-Cheese growing up. She was like a little prairie dog, and I haven't been able to watch the scene since.

Anyway, back to what I wrote when this first aired: Tim sees Lucy and he can breathe, again. She knew. She knew he'd be looking for her.

And Tim knew he couldn't breach. If he went in, that'd give away everything, and someone needed to go after that car.

He's doing everything right. But it hurts like hell.

"Gun was empty. I got lucky. Otherwise..."

And you can see it hurts. Look, Tim has faced a lot worse in his time in the military and working Patrol. But everything is raw right now.

The woman he loves it in danger. She was nearly killed by that same weapon. Both of them had close calls with the same gun and lived to tell the tale.

"Hey, you okay?" "Yeah. I am now.... meet me at the laundry room in your building." "Yes. See you in 30."

I love the touch that Lucy's hand is on the phone before Frank even pulls away. She needs to touch base with Tim. She needs to hear his voice.

And I love the emphasis Melissa O'Neil places on "Yes". It's a heart cry for its soulmate. There is no question that they need to see one another.

Tim has always had this need to protect Lucy, even before romance was on the table. And Lucy has always had a need to protect Tim, too, in her own way.

Lucy watching out for Tim with Isabel. Tim doing whatever it took to save Lucy from a serial killer. Over and over, these two have a need to know the other is okay.

I remember not so long ago Tim was asking Nolan, Nyla, Angela... asking if Lucy was okay. He needed to know. Then, he finally had the direct line as a friend. He could text her to get the details.

Now, they need to see each other. It's that same need, but it's grown along with their relationship.

*hug* "That was really scary." "Yeah, I almost had a heart attack."

Lucy launches herself up into his arms and he nestles into her shoulder. Tim's right hand is splayed across her back, as though he wants to hold as much of her at one time as he can.

It's another one of those "Eric Winter act all the way through his fingers" moments. Tim's whole body is reacting to holding her, safe in his arms, down to those fingertips.

These poor babies. This is the first time they've had to do this deep since Lucy's S3 arc. And they've never done it in love, before. Not with each other.

Tim knows what he lost with Isabel. But this love is different, deeper, developed from the gradual building of trust. Layers upon layers of caring. Lucy is the love of his life—and he's run raw from witnessing the shootout, and skirting death moments apart.

"If you need to tap out-" "No."

Tim is trying to give her an out, and there's a mix here of professional and personal. She's shaken. So is he. But this is the job.

And he knows that. He does. But we've already established he can't be objective where she is concerned.

"Has he tried anything?"

This is a scenario that's run through my mind a million times—what would Tim do if someone violated Lucy... and what would he do to that person?

The way Eric Winter plays this moment is so heartbreaking, too. There's a vulnerability in Tim's eyes that is completely personal, void of professional. He's a man worried about the love of his life.

He knows she can handle herself. It's not a cognitive issue. It's that part of him that cries out Fierce Protector whenever she is in danger.

Lucy gets that, and she grabs onto his jacket with one hand, almost pulling him closer to her.

"Alright, now is not the time to talk about this-"

It's easier for him to change the subject on her than to acknowledge how much they both need to have this conversation at some point. They've been talking around it and avoiding it.

It has to be addressed at some point. There is no way forward without it.

"If you're good, I'm good." "I'm good." "Good."

I'm having a bit of a Court Jester moment, here, and it's cracking me up. "Get it?" "Got it." "Good."

But also, "Good" is kind of their word. Tim used it post-DOD with her in the workout room, and again when he was happy she didn't change her mind about dating him.

I don't know who made the choice—whether it was a writing thing, first, or an actor choice in the moment, but it somehow makes it more personal and lived-in. And I love that.

"Lock the door first."

Did they just.... have sex in there? Oh my GOSH they pulled a Java!

But what I really love about this is how it feels like a callback to 5x01 and the airplane bathroom. Not only is it a small space where they are covertly meeting to discuss the mission, but it's also a parallel to Lucy needing grounding and Tim being the one to do it.

In 5x01, Lucy was shaken by the Rosalind news. She made an excuse to kiss Tim, to wrap herself in a moment that was a release. Remember Isabel talking about how great it was to unwind in that hotel room and not be on guard for a bit?

Lucy needs this. She needs to be with Tim and wrap herself in the life they are building. Even if it's only a little while, it's going to sustain her while she's pretending while thinking on three levels to not get killed.

He grounds her when she's flailing. And she envelopes him when he's crumbling. Tim and Lucy have built a relationship of mutual respect, love, and protection. And, damn, is it great to get to see it on-screen.

"Miss you." "Getting coffee. 1 Minute." "911."

Shit. Of course this is the one moment when something goes down.

But I love the fact that Lucy was having Laundry Room Sex less than 12 hours earlier and she's already texting her boyfriend because she misses him. No wonder he practically lives at her place, already.

Also, now we know she finally has him listed as "Tim" in her phone. Now, he was "Tim" at the end of S4E1, but I think that was an oversight. So, officially we've graduated to first names.

"Hey. Why are you here?"

Oh, GPS tracking, how I hate thee in real life and love thee on TV.

"You got ten seconds to convince me you're not a cop."

Annnnd, there it is. This guy's not a moron. This isn't his first rodeo. And now he has a gun trained on our girl.

"I'm not a cop I... " "Then how the hell did you know they were coming." "A police scanner app. I can show you."

Well. Done. There are folks in my area who have scanner apps and are constantly posting things online.

I sometimes forget about it because when I worked in a newsroom, we had a guy whose whole job was to listen to the scanner. Still boggles my mind anyone can do it these days!

And Lucy. Gets. Him. Monologuing. And it's beautiful. Lessor actors would have bungled it, but Michael Rooker is a bloody master of the craft, and Melissa O'Neil holds her own opposite him, which adds such richness.

Before we move on, I have to pause and just fawn over Michael Rooker a bit. He's just such a gem of an actor, and that whole interaction there between Lucy and Frank is elevated by his presence.

He pours so much life into a character we've barely known five minutes.

I met him once upon a time. My mother was the Key Makeup Artist on a movie called Deceiver. While I was visiting Mom on-set, I had the opportunity to run lines with him.

He treated me like a working actor, which was crazy to a kid like me.

I remember him running me through this one line over and over. It was a three-word line (which of course I can't remember), but he was trying to teach me how inflection and intention can completely change the meaning of a line.

I carried that with me, and applied it to my acting, writing, and VO work the rest of my life.

My mom said he told her that I acted like a pro. And that's just so bloody special to me. I never had the body or the face for the big time, ya know? But, an actor I admire thought I had the chops. And that's super cool.

"Where are you?" "I'm outside the cover apartment. Frank just dropped me off."

One thing that is a minor thing, but really cracks me up about their dialogue is when they see each other in person, there's almost always a "hey" breathed under their breathe. On the phone, they just get to the point. It's so minor, but it makes me smile.

"I think this op is done." "You sure? " "Yeah. I mean, he's got no crew, no product. It's over." "That's too bad." "Why?" "I was looking forward to another laundry room hookup."

You. Idiots. And I say that with all love! It's so nice to see these two really enjoying their relationship, dagnabbit.

"I need a big meal, a hot bath, and some quality sexy time and then I'm gonna sleep for 24 hours."

Lucy runs her hands down his stomach, but Tim's quick to grab her hands. He rubs her arm, as though reminding himself that she's real.

"What what is that? What? " I just... Isabel used to always crash after a long term assignment. It took her months to come back to life."

I have three children. The first two are twins. And they were born just a few months after my best friend had her first. Her second child was born about six months before my third child.

Yes, I have a point. Gimme a second.

I have dealt with two very different children from day one. I don't know what it is to be the mother of a single child. That was never my reality.

But my bestie was shocked by how different her second child was compared to her first. She'd only known one thing for three years, so she assumed that's how all babies would be.

It was simply lack of experience that led her to lean into her previous understanding thinking it was all she needed. That's Tim, here.

He knows that Lucy is different... but they've never done this before. He's never been the one she came home to after a UC assignment.

He's not equating everything to Isabel because he thinks Lucy is Isabel, but because he has no comparisons. Tim and Lucy are going to build that together, yes, but he honestly doesn't know how to do that.

We know that Isabel shut him out. Tim is terrified Lucy will do the same, even though he hasn't verbalized it... yet.

"You know what, I do have to come clean about something, though. I know I made you a promise to not watch Top Chef without me but I couldn't wait. I'm sorry." "Bad girlfriend." "No! No. I'm sorry." "Horrible!"

I'm sheepishly hiding my face because I'm so Lucy in this moment. My on-screen bestie and I have way too much in common.

Also, we needed that bit of levity to break up the scene. Because it's about to get heavy.

"So... Why didn't you tell me you almost died chasing down the shooter at the restaurant?" "Because I didn't. Who told you?"

It's shocking Lucy thought she would ever be able to keep the Five Player Trade quiet considering how quickly gossip moves through that station. Gee wiz!

"The gun was empty, right? So this is much ado about nothing."

A Shakespeare reference? Now I know our girl's been rubbing off on her man.

"Besides I know for a fact you don't tell me everything that happens when you're undercover." "No. you know for a fact that Isabel didn't. If this is gonna between us I need to know you can see the difference."

Here we go. They are finally having the conversation they need to have. Tim told Isabel that Lucy was different. We know he knows it. But he has to believe it, too.

"... listen, I need you to take it seriously if I ever sound the alarm about something. Otherwise the pain of what I went through would have been for nothing. And I can't lose you the way I lost her.

That "for nothing" is coming back around. It can't be for nothing.

And he can't lose her. He survived losing Isabel. Yes, it broke him. It broke him for a long time. But I don't know if he'd ever recover from losing Lucy. True love can have that effect.

"You won't. I'll walk away before it gets close to anything like that. Okay? I promise."

There we go. This was the piece Lucy was missing last week when she tried to broach the subject. She approached it as though it was something he needed to deal with. But relationships only work when we get through together.

This conversation doesn't make everything all better. They are still going to face obstacles and issues. But they are finally being open and honest in both directions about Lucy doing UC.

Tim and Lucy embrace, but this is different than any of their other hugs, and I wonder if it's intentional. Tim has always nestled into her right shoulder. Lucy usually has one arm up and one down.

This time, she almost scoops in underneath as he wraps both arms around her. She's nestled in his wings as he's held up by her strength.

"We can build a house away from here," the song says. And they could. They could both walk away. But we've established that this is the life they love, dangerous as it is.

And the more they fall in love, the more they both have something worst living for. And that's terrifying.

Have you ever been in love? The kind of love that reciprocates and grows? It's amazing. I've only experienced it once, with the love of my life. It's difficult, at times, but it's also rewarding.

And it amplifies the big stuff. Because you're now a part of something so much bigger than the individual. And for Tim and Lucy, putting their lives on the line means there's someone who will be destroyed if they die.

There's all the more reason to live, but that can't get into the decision-making process in the moment. "You have to keep your head in the game," Tim has said often.

Love conquers all, right? Sometimes, it merely complicates.

I'm grateful for this episode. The pacing and directing were so on-point all around, and I felt like all the on-screen characters had moments to shine without it feeling over-bloated. Just beautifully done all-around.

Thank you for reading, loves. This week has been a hard one in my life as I drove back to Wilmington to say what may be my last goodbyes to one of my best friends who I've known since we were 11. Cancer is the B-word.

Cherish the ones you love. Tell them often that you care. Make memories. Build dreams. Chase hope. Live this life, dagnabbit. I believe in you.

#Chenford #Lucy Chen #Tim Bradford #Melissa O'Neil #Eric Winter #Lucy x tim #Tim x Lucy #The Rookie #Meta

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pedge-page · 2 months

Text

Personal thoughts / rant time below cut :

It's been a while since I had a good cry but last night was a big cry. I was thinking about how my fam were all talking about our performance reviews and my mom said she got 5/5 from her boss, and nothing less was expected given she works like 16 hours a day and is generating millions of dollars for her company that was on the verge of bankruptcy. My sister has hers yet to come but she too is extremely quick and has been working exceptionally hard at her job despite so many changes in her team forcing her to take on more responsibilities and learning on the fly.

Meanwhile I joked i got 3.8 or maybe 3.5 on my review out of 5. My manager has 4.2 listed as minimal expectations so pretty clear I'm performing below standard. Didn't really want to think about it so much when I had my performance meeting a month ago but it was the first time I mentioned it to my parents.

They got quiet and asked my sister to get me a new job since clearly I'm not reaching "my full potential". Not really sure why she keeps saying that when it's blatantly obvious I am in fact, not very much good at anything. She asked If I got a raise and I asked why would I get one?

I may have gotten a couple hundred dollars increase (from like 40,500 to now 41,100 salary I think as of this year. Was never discussed to me but I just check my employee portal and I think that it went up but not sure If that was considered a raise, or the company wanting to help all employees with housing).

Either way, my parents are also aware I do don't really do anything most days of work. I wander around the house because I "don't have much work today" and it's true. I get done with my assignments and then can "study" courses that are part of my long term goals (which I spend pretty much all in office days doing because I'm bored) but that gets me exhausted since I haven't the capacity to "study" and genuinely retain information since high school really.

Anyway my parents have been telling me everyday to look for a new job, and also look for a masters degree (in anything but clearly business), and also look at volunteer work, and consider getting a second job on the weekends. She suggested a career coach but I've backed off from that because what use if they ask me what I want to do with my life --because my genuine answer is nothing.

I've barely given any of it thought because I just don't want to. I have no motivation to improve. I dont have dreams or goals in life. No abitions or passions. My "hobbies" dont really bring joy--they just distract me from my responsibilities. I'm clearly not good at anything and it feels like an insult every time my mom lectures me (every day for 2 years now) about my "potential" and "gifts and skills I need to share with the world" so i need to find a new job that challenges me becuase I'm so "smart" and "too advanced".

I have to avoid eye contact with her because it physically hurts to be told such BS especially since none of my family even know why my job or company is / does. Ma'am if I had such potential, it'd be in use. Plz stop.

Anyway. Big cry last night and scribbling in my journal what a useless (and fat--let's not forget fat) fuck I am and have been and always will be.

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glitterge1pen · 1 year

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Have you ever stood in an empty hallway and been put into 2005-2009?

Rukawa Kaede x reader, sfw, fluff, word count 3,490

guys I've done it again I have wrote something vague and tender

Stadium Operations Manger had not been the job you thought you would find yourself in. At least according to the results of the career aptitude test you took in high school.

Scheduling and preparing the stadium for events was your main job. Working with musicians teams to figure out how their touring stage would fit in your space. What nights were for basketball or hockey or monster jam trucks.

What charity wanted to sing at that hockey game? And there's a new food vendor right? These were questions you handed off to other people, the managers beneath you. With a walkie talkie, clipboard, and google calendar you hoped yourself invincible.

That was of course until Rukawa. His name squeezes its way out of the corner of your mouth, it tingles the tip of your nose and turns the ends of your ears hot. Your staff in aprons, yellow crowd control vests, and black security jackets moves out of your way as you pass.

There is twenty minutes until the doors open and then another hour until the game.

Your shoes clunk on the tiled floor, your legs burning from the fast pace. Where could he be this time? You were almost back at where you had started and there was no sign of him.

Pressing on the walkie you ask if anyone has seen him. They don't have to ask who. But he is still amiss and you don't know if you should be angry or impressed.

Deciding that he can wait just a couple minutes you walk over to the glass wall that overlooks the city. In the summer doors lead to a rooftop cafe, a balcony, but now in the colder months the doors are locked and you can only look.

At night the lights and reflections of the city are like rain. You often find yourself taking in this exact view, either on the first floor or higher up on the third floor where you are now.

Next to you is one of the smaller merchandise shops. The front of the shop also glass. All the local sports teams merch is stocked here and tonight the basketball teams logo is most prominent amongst the jerseys. Especially Rukawa’s jersey. That number of his, 11, seemingly mocking you. Where was he?

The shop door was propped open, you'd have to check the schedule and remind whoever closed last night to make sure to shut it. A sneaker. There behind the cashier counter on your right is a sneaker on the floor.

You leave the door to investigate. There is Rukawa on that blue shop carpet. His arms crossed over his chest and his breathing even. You kick the bottom of his shoe.

"Come on," he groans, "Get up, game time is soon,"

"You're lying,"

"I'm not lying you got to get your ass up and back downstairs,"

He doesn't say anything. You huff, knowing that the next part of this charade is trying to yank him off the floor. Rukawa is tall and mostly muscle, you tug on his arm but never get him very far. Today he is limp dead weight. You set your clipboard down to use both hands, in a misstep you tangle your shoes with his. Your hands loose grip on his forearm and you're tumbling backwards.

This is what seems to wake Rukawa up. His own hand grips onto your wrist pulling you in his direction just as he’s standing onto his feet. You bump into his chest and are momentarily in a whirlwind. Rukawa smells nice, his cologne faint but there, beneath the vague spicy citrus is the gentle sweat of sleep. His jersey isn’t pressed to flat clean lines but it is clean, it smells fresh. He’s looking at you not saying anything and you can feel his gaze but do not meet it.

“Your boss is going to kill me,”

“He’s not my boss,”

“He's your coach and that’s close enough, come on we have to get you down there,”

Rukawa follows you out of the store and into the massive stadium halls. He keeps pace with you, employees eye him but don’t ask for pictures or autographs. Around the bend is the employee only elevator and your shoulder brushes against him on the ride down to the basement floors.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,”

You say with a nonchalant tone, your eyes feasting upon your clipboard trying to find when the medic team is supposed to arrive tonight.

“I didn't mean for you to trip,”

This time he can't look at you while you look at him. You don’t know what to say, your mind trying to find some other instance where you’ve heard him apologize but can't. It's the thing that twitter accounts, sports journalists and other players say about Rukawa. That his head is too high, that he can't admit when he's over stepped but instead will say what he plans on doing next. The elevator dings open and you tell him that it's alright.

༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥��̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Your office is tucked away in the basement. It's barely big enough for the desk, couch and shelf of binders that hold it together. Rukawa is there on the couch, his back to you as you type away on your computer. Players were required to arrive at the stadium at least forty five minutes before the games. Most came earlier than that. Rukawa's teammates were lounging in the locker room with take out, in the seats below the announcers box playing Xbox on the jumbotron and listening to music on the court.

Rukawa was napping. You wondered if he had some sort of sleep disorder. Since finding him in the shop several weeks ago Rukawa had stopped napping in various places around the stadium and taken up your offer to sleep in the office. You turn to look at him now and find that he is already looking at you.

“You're awake,”

And he nods, sitting up.

“You ready for the game,”

He scoots the couch closer to the desk.

“I’ll take that as a yes,”

“We’re weak on defensive because Miller is out. Their good scorers, and so are we but our weak point is shining,”

“You can still win,”

Rukawa is close to the desk so that he can rest his head in his arms. His breath itches your skin as your attention battles to focus on the computer screen in front of you and not him.

“And you have to move the couch back when you leave for warm ups,”

༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

The team was on a losing streak. You did not bring it up to Rukawa. He sulked in your office before games, twisting in his sleep. He had been spending even more time in the gym. The training center was only two blocks away from the stadium. He parked his car in the same lot as yours, you saw him in there sometimes before you had to clock in, the training center not open yet. Most often he was napping, but sometimes you caught him watching game highlights. You always made sure to bump your fist on his window as you passed by.

Today, in the cold night air, he was there again. The trunk of his car slamming shut as he tossed his duffle bag inside. His eyes widened when he saw you, having caught him off guard. Another thing that you had not been able to do before. You see the bags under his eyes, the red creeping around his pupils.

“Rukawa, what are you still doing here, its really late,”

He shrugs, “I could ask you the same thing,” you were carrying a box full of posters. The new ones for the holders had come in, you liked to keep the cool ones of bands you liked. Rukawa held the box for you as you unlocked the car. Your breath came out in white clouds, the air slithering around you, Rukawa put his hands in his pockets.

“Hungry?”

He asks. The restaurant of Rukawa's choosing was at first surprising. Empanadas served over a counter. Traditional ones, and ones with more flashy fillings like Vegan Caprse and Spicy Bbq Chicken. The place is small with few tables, it's on the mall strip downtown and has doors on either side. People filter in and out easily, their empanadas wrapped in wax paper, steaming hot as people head back outside. Most seem drunk, rosy, and loud as they wait for their food.

You order first and snag the window seats, gliding onto the high stools. It's Friday so even though it's late the street is still buzzing. When Rukawa slides into the seat next to you, he hands you a cellophane wrapped pastry.

“For letting me use the office,”

“Oh you didn't have to do that,”

“I did. I have to do something for you,”

He's so matter of fact about it that it makes you want to roll your eyes. He's serious and dead set on small things like this, it makes you grin. You watch the people on the street, your reflection mixing with the lights, the people behind you in the small restaurant just blurry shapes in the window. The food is good and warm, the bread flaky and filling.

“Are you okay?” He doesn't answer but instead just looks at you. If he was going to be stubborn about it you supposed you could be a little mean, “I know you don’t like losing and…” You trail off hiding a smile behind your empanada. He twists around in his stool, propping his elbows up on the counter. You don’t stop looking at him and eventually he sighs and swivels the stool to face you.

“Fine. I don’t like it. And I can't do anything about it,”

“And have you done other things?”

“Like what?”

“What you've never taken, like a spa day or something?”

“I’m not going to a spa,”

“I’m not saying go to a spa I just mean when you aren’t playing basketball what do you do?”

༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“When I first moved here this is where I would come,”

It's the next day and you had spent more time than you'd like to admit thinking about what to wear. Only to find that Rukawa was bringing you to a bridge looking down at the freeway. It was the massive freeway too, the one with ten lanes and the toll. The bridge had nothing but chainlink, that enclosed the concrete path, and a single iron railing keeping people from throwing rocks and themselves down at the cars. It connected a neighborhood of houses to a strip mall.

“And why would you come here? There's like nothing here,”

He shrugged, “This path connects to the river, the one down by the stadium. I used to run it every morning and sometimes I’d stop here at the bridge.”

There's stairs you have to descend, they seem clunky and odd next to the freeway. Drivers slow down as they approach and merge from the ramp onto the lanes. The city is still in view and you find your eyes wandering to the skyscrapers and glistening windows. Rukawa nudges your shoulder with your own.

“This is the part I like,”

A car gets on the exit ramp.

“What about it?”

“Look at the drivers,”

The next car comes, a blue honda, and the girl driving looks over her shoulder to see if she can merge. Almost everyone does this, the peek over the shoulder. Of course everyone does this, but it is charming to see that Rukawa has picked a spot just to watch people do this mundane task. You try to think of other things like this that everyone must do but your mind comes up blank, too busy watching the cars pass by.

There are easy things to think of, like breathing, drinking water, sleeping, that all people somehow complete. But smaller things, like having to check over your shoulder, escape you. But you know still that other people exist in the same way you do.

“I get why you come here,”

༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“That just isn't going to work sir,”

The grody man in front of you was trying to convince you that his musicians stage set needed another rig for lights.

“There has to be some way you can do this for us, we’ll downsize if we have too,”

“You're going to downsize over some lights?”

All the pleasantries between you two had been used up. The past ten minutes had been very tense, the forty five minute meeting was entering two hour meeting territory and you were jittering with nerves. Not because you couldn't handle this man but because there was a game tonight and you still hadn't made your first round of check-ins with your team.

“Hell yeah we’ll downsize over this. This is money that you’ll be losing,”

“It's not possible, we simply don't have the room for it,”

“Then make room!”

The door to your office swings open, Rukawa is there, duffle bag slung over his shoulder and frozen as he takes in the atmosphere.

“Oh, I didn't know you had a meeting today,”

He’s about to turn away but you usher him in.

“No, no, its alright we were just finishing up,”

“No we aren't!”

Rukawa’s eyes dart between you and this man, he tosses his duffle bag onto the couch, stepping aside to let the man pass. But the man is still in the chair across from your desk, his face red and his palms up like can catch him an explanation for this interruption.

“I’m sorry but we are done. I've explained several times that we don't have room for another rig, and even if we did I couldn't let you use that space because the amount of lights you're suggesting is a fire hazard,”

“Other places have given us the space so why can't you?”

“Because we don't have it!”

You are practically yelling and the man's mouth is open in shock, his hand on his chest like he has the right to be appalled.

“You have to leave,”

Rukawa says. You don't take your eyes off the man in front of you.

“You don't have any say in this matter!”

“They told you to leave, leave,”

Finally, after a long, long beat of silence the man gets up and leaves. He slams your office door hard. Your fists balled up at your sides, you jump at the door. Opening it only to slam it shut even harder than he had. You stand in the middle of your office unsure of what to do now. Your whole body burning hot, your eyes brimming with tears, and your hands still clenched tight.

“Come on, you have to get out of this office,”

You run your fingers over the lines in your forehead, the ones that appear before you're going to cry.

“No, no, I have to check in with security and-”

“Do you think it's a good idea to do that when you're not calm and ready?” “But I have to,”

“Just ten minutes,”

You follow Rukawa to the elevator and find yourself retracing steps to the merchandise store you had last found him in. To your surprise Rukawa walks past that and to the doors that lead to the patio, and he opens them. He somehow has a key and though it's chilly out you still stand on the rooftop. It's afternoon, the sky a strong blue, clouds fluffy.

“Thanks,”

You say as Rukawa tosses you his warm up jacket.

༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“Can’t you go talk to him,”

“Isn't that your job,”

Rukawa's coach, a balding middle aged man who wears too many rings, sighs, and shakes his head.

“Your better at it, he likes you better,”

“Which is it, am I better or does he like me better,”

“You know it's both,”

You hum and continue typing on your laptop.

“I’ll go with you if you're scared,”

“I’m not scared!”

“Then why aren't you going?”

“Beucae Rukawa is a professional athlete and I trust he knows what he's doing,”

“And I’m his coach and I’m saying he's doing too much, get him out of the gym, hes pissing everyone off,”

“Why do I have to do it? It's not my responsibility,”

“I already told you, he likes you best”

This is the conversation you had with him in your office that led to you braving the night and walking to the training center. You show your stadium badge to the secretary behind the desk and she does not let you in. So you call coach and he doesn't answer, which leads to you calling Rukawa.

“Can you come down to the front desk,”

He's breathless as he speaks, “The front desk where?”

“Here, like where you are, the training center,”

Suddenly you are scared and nervous and don't know exactly what you’ll say to Rukawa. When he gets down to the lobby he bursts through the doors, head whipping back and forth to find you.

“Did something happen?”

“What? No? Did coach not tell you I was coming?”

Rukawa's shoulders drop, and he shakes his head no.

“He wants you out of the gym,” He runs a hand through his hair, “he says you're stressing everyone out,”

Rukawa hunches over on his knees, he huffs.

“He couldn't tell me that?”

“He says he did and you didn't listen.”

He flops back onto the couch that's in the lobby. You stand there holding the strap of your work bag. You aren't sure what's supposed to happen next, are you supposed to sit down with him? Is he actually going to leave? He wraps the healthy leaf of the house plant that's next to the couch around his fingers. It shines underneath the lights, green, vibrant, of life.

“Have you ever been inside?”

༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Since Rukawa had given you a tour of the training center he was more prone to dropping by your office on days that he did not have games. He had also begun inviting you to practices. You had only been able to make it to two but they were interesting to watch. You didn't sit in the bleachers but rather in this hallway with windows that looked down onto the court. There were hardly any people there, and they appeared to be other employees.

You were not in your office though when Rukawa had popped in. He saw the drink on your desk and the light of the computer screen. He went wandering the basement offices in an attempt to find you. He grabbed his lunch too, he had come from a practice and was starving. He knew the building pretty well from his adventures in napping. He checked the water fountain, the break room but found you in the office supply closet. Which is where the big xerox machine was.

“Hey,”

You said to him as he entered the small room.

“You weren't in your office,”

“Well, yeah I had to make copies of these,”

Rukawa hoisted himself up on the cabinet next to the printer. He clipped the stacks of paper you were making with paper clips and set them aside for you as he munched on his food.

“Is that a whole bag of tomatoes?”

You asked, lifting up the scanner lid. Rukawa had brought a ziploc bag full of tomatoes to eat. He nodded.

“Do you want one?”

None of the tomatoes were of the same size or color, but most of them were small. He handed you one of the bite size ones, and you don't know what compelled you to do this, but you put it on the scanner with paper. You pressed the start button and bright light illuminated the room. With the lid open you could see the bar of light as it whirred left and right.

Rukawa took the paper off the glass and dumped the rest of the tomatoes on. You scanned dozens of different piles of the tomates. Flipping them over and rearranging them on the glass. All the images were being sent to your computer but also being printed out. Rukawa assisted. Moving the red bulbs this way and that.

“When we’re done can we go to the roof?”

“Sure,”

You say to him. Many weeks later you will visit Rukawa's apartment and find the printed tomatoes framed in the hallway of his house.

༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

A/N; @z_adeh on tiktok has this video of them scanning tomatoes and it zapped my brain

#kaede rukawa #Kaede Rukawa x reader #slam dunk #slam dunk x reader #gender neutral reader

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svtdarlingbby · 2 years

Text

Dance the Night Away! HoshixTrainee!Reader

pairing: Hoshi x gender neutral Reader genre: angst in the beginning mostly fluff/humor no warnings! just Hoshi being the best boi word count: 1495 Ok guys this is my first fic on here! Hope you enjoy!

getting accepted into HYBE was your dream come true

just becoming a trainee under one of the biggest companies was surreal

it seems like your hard work was starting to pay off

however, things can't be 100% perfect

the loneliness was for sure getting to you

sure HYBE was a big company but you never had time to create meaningful friendships due to your workload

not to mention your homesickness

going from living with your family and seeing your friends often to being isolated in a new city with hardly anyone to talk to was rough

the effects of these feelings began to show through your performance

which brings us today to your dance coach snapping at you for not mastering the choreography as fast as you should have

"Y/N! How many times do we need to go over this? You should've had this down a while ago!" yelled your dance instructor

"I'm sorry" was all you could muster as you held back tears

"I thought you were better than this. Even if you have to stay in the studio all night I want you to master this choreography. No ifs or buts," sighed your dance instructor as they left you alone in the studio.

now that they were gone it was safe to let it all out

the tears you had been holding flowed out as you let out choked sobs

it really was a pitiful scene as you leaned against the mirrored wall with your face buried into your palms

I'm really going to screw up my chances at going big because of my feelings? you wondered

just thinking this made you cry even more

you didn't hear the door to the dance studio open in the midst of your crying session

whoever walked in didn't see you either

just as he was about practice dancing his newest song, he saw your wallowing figure in the mirror

"AAAAHHHH!!" he screamed and jumped surprisingly high

"AAAH SORRY!" you half squeaked/yelled through teary eyes

you realized that you had terrified the Kwon Soonyoung aka Hoshi aka Tiger

"You got my heart racing haha, no worries, Y/N was it?" he chuckled as he walked toward you

oh no

this is not how you wanted to meet any of your labelmates

you simply nodded in response attempting to hide your tear-stained face

you definitely failed for sure

"Y/N? Are you okay?" he asked as he kneeled to your height

"Yes" you lied

"You don't look okay. What's wrong?" he frowned as he sat next to you on the ground

something about his question made you want to cry more

this was probably the first time someone here has ever thought to make sure you were okay

"It's just..." you begin as you began to cry more

ngl Soonyoung felt a bit awkward but he felt his heart break at the sight of you

"It's okay, Y/N. Let it out" he said gently patting your shoulder

usually he was known for being super energetic but seeing his comforting side was calming

so you cried, at least until you felt composed enough to tell him what was wrong

"Sorry for bugging you, I guess trainee life is a lot harder than I anticipated," you admitted wiping the last of your tears against your sleeve

"Ah I remember those days, they were tough," reminisced Soonyoung

"For sure... I've just been feeling pretty lonely. My whole life is completely different than it was a couple of months ago and I guess the homesickness and anxiety is affecting my performance. My dance instructor was pissed off at me and I guess that was my breaking point," you vented as he listened attentively

"I'm sorry they were harsh on you. I wish they'd have a little more empathy. If you need any help with dancing and what not I'd be more than happy to help" he offered with a smile

"You'd help me?" you asked kind of shocked that someone as busy as Soonyoung would offer to help a lonesome trainee like you

"Yeah why not. You seem dedicated and you got this far. I don't mind really!" he said as he got up.

"Wow Soonyoung, I can't thank you enough," you said

"Alright let's get up" he said as he pulled you off the ground. "So what do you need help with exactly?"

You explained to him that you needed to memorize your assigned choreography by tomorrow

"My dance instructor said I needed to know this even if it took all night" you said worriedly

Soonyoung took a look at your assigned work and beamed

"Hey I know this song! Okay which part do you need help with?"

You were so thankful omg

You explained to him that you knew the beginning up until the first chorus but were kinda lost afterwards

"Okay Y/N, by the end of this session you're gonna know this dance by heart thanks to me"

As soon as he played the music Soonyoung went into full tiger dance pro mode

you were in awe of how a human could just become the concept of dance itself like woww

it definitely took some time for you learn and master the new parts of the choreography but Soonyoung was impressed by your motivation and drive

not gonna lie you did feel your face flush when Soonyoung would fix your positioning or stature

you knew he was being professional but man was he hot when he was in dance mode

he was very patient with you too!

and learning the choreography was actually fun because he'd joke around

"Okay Y/N, this final move is the hardest. Think you can keep up?" he asked raising a brow

"Heck yeah!"

"Okay, I'll guide you. First you raise your right hand about shoulder length" he said as he performed the move

"Alright" you followed raising your right head

"Good! Okay now you open your palm like this" he said opening his palm

"Yup!" you followed his instructions

"Okay, don't screw this part up. It's fundamental to the choreography. Bend your fingers and thumb forward" he said as his smile grew

"Alrighty!" you said bending your fingers forward

before you knew it you horanghaed

"HAHHA HORANGHAE Y/N" laughed Soonyoung as he horanghaed

it took you a second but you burst into laughter

"WOW SOONYOUNG tricking me a poor trainee into horanghae-ing. The tiger agenda has gone too far" you laughed

"Ugh Y/N, you're too cute" chuckled Soonyoung

aaaaand you felt your face get warm and felt all shy

"Anyways, this is what happens when you hang out with me for too long. Just ask my members!" laughed Soonyoung

"Although tricking people into your Tiger agenda is devious, they really are lucky to have you Soonyoung" you said with a smile

"Aw Y/N stop" blushed Soonyoung at your compliment as he looked down smiling

"It's true! Thanks to you I got the choreography down! Seriously thank you so much" you said

"I just couldn't leave a poor little trainee alone like that. But you made my night Y/N. I had fun" he admitted with a small smile

"Night?"

"Yeah, it's about three quarters past midnight" said Soonyoung matter of factly

"HOW LONG HAVE WE BEEN HERE?" you wondered loudly not realizing how much time has gone by

"Shoot I don't know maybe 5-6 hours? I wasn't keeping track" chuckled Soonyoung

"Oh my gosh I'm sorry I didn't mean to keep you up this late!" you apologized

"Nah don't worry. I had fun Y/N. And I'm glad to see you happier now"

"Thanks Soonyoung"

"But you're right, it is kinda late. I know you need your rest but let me know if you ever need help dancing. Or if you just wanna hang out in general. I know you said you've been feeling lonely and I would love to spend some time with you" he rambled with sparkling eyes

"Soonyoung, I'd love that. Thank you for everything" you said enveloping him in a hug

he gently returned the hug giving you a gentle comforting squeeze

"You're welcome" he smiled as you two pulled apart.

you two planned to meet tomorrow after you presented your newfound choreography skills to your dance instructor to tell him how it went

and maybe hang out some more

but you could not be more grateful for Soonyoung

and hey, you now have your first fan!

BONUS:

"Soonyoung, where have you been all night?" asked Chan running into his bandmate in the halls as he got up to get some water

"OH MY GOD OH MY GOD CHAN!!" yelled Soonyoung

"SHUSH the whole floor is asleep!" whisper yelled Chan

"CHAN I MET SOMEONE THEY'RE SO CUTE THEY'RE A TRAINEE AND- AHH" yelled Soonyoung as he felt himself blush remembering the evening you two shared

Needless to say, all of the boys heard about you through Soonyoung's very loud recounting of the day you two had

#seventeen x reader #hoshi x reader #hoshi x you #soonyoung imagines #soonyoung x reader #svt x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen idol au #hoshi imagines #seventeen reactions #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x you #seventeen x y/n

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tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 6 months

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I’ve figured it out! I’ve been saying for many months now that it’s fucking weird how much Sam Campbell looks exactly like a certain, very common type of wrestler I know. Specifically, the guys in the smaller categories, guys who compete at 57-ish kilos in university but you know they were competing at 44 or smaller when they were in high school. All those guys have this really specific look, down to clothing and hairstyle but also it’s about their build and facial structure, and I did not even realize how specific the look was until I saw Sam Campbell and realized it’s the first time I’ve ever seen someone outside the sport with that look. It looks so weird to me to see it out of its normal context.

Anyway, I think this part of that article explains it:

“I was very small growing up” – a feature he thinks contributed to his pursuing comedy. “My parents were legitimately going to give me horse hormones to make me grow, because I was really small for a long time.”

Ohhh… that’s what it is. Wrestling is the sport of guys who were too small as a child/teenager. I think I know four people who have specifically told me they were put on hormones growing up because they were too small, and I think of a lot of other people who probably were or almost were, I just don’t know them well enough for them to have told me.

One of my good friends, a few years ago, who was a couple of years younger than me and had a massively successful competitive career before joining our team as a coach, told me that that’s exactly why he started. This guy was successful enough to have made promo videos, to advertise the national team’s international runs and things, where he talked about how he loved the sport since he was a kid. One day at the pub after practice, he told me that’s not why he got into it at all. He got into it because in high school, the girls didn’t like him since he was too small, and his parents had to put him on hormones just to keep him barely big enough to be healthy, and he had to have something to make girls like him despite his size, and all the sports besides wrestling required people to be big. Wrestling was the only sport with weight classes, where anyone could join because they’d be matched up with people their own size no matter how small they were. The average wrestler is much shorter than the average person outside the sport, because it’s where the small people can go.

Anyway, that’s the look Sam Campbell has, and that’s why it was so familiar to me. The look of a guy who was off-the-charts small when he was young, and then grew into someone who’s just a normal level of smaller-than-average. There’s a specific build that guys like that have, which is different from guys who are a normal level of small as adults because they were a normal level of small as teenagers. The proportions are different.

…I genuinely don’t know if it’s fucked up for me to write a post going into this much detail about a stranger’s physical features. Hanging out on Tumblr may have skewed my perspective of what’s appropriate. So sorry if this is a weird thing to say. But I am truly pleased to have solved a mystery. He looks familiar because he’s one of those guys! One of those guys who used to be much too small and now he’s just small, but in a way where you can still kind of tell he used to be much too small! Those guys! Cool! I like those guys! Some of my best friends are those guys!

I guess if you’re that guy in high school and you’re not interesting in sports, you try comedy instead. Good for him.

The rest of the article is quite interesting as well, explaining how he ended up where he is in comedy. The thing I've chosen to focus on is really the least interesting part. It's worth a read.

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ravenwolfie97 · 3 months

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okay i have to talk about this because it's been really bothering me lately and i need to say something before i explode

so lately i've been noticing on many videos, shortform or otherwise, that they include subtitles! awesome! super helpful and cool

but idk if it's always been a problem and i'm only noticing it now, or if it's gotten particularly bad lately, but... recently a lot of those subtitles are really really bad

slight tangential anecdote: i used to do some freelance captioning work in between real job hunting, and it was a good experience. i was already interested in doing it, obviously, but i was coached on proper captioning etiquette and guidelines to make it look as nice and readable as possible while also transcribing the audio as best as i could before my superiors would touch it up. so i do know a thing or two about proper subtitling, but even if you didn't you would Know that there are some serious problems right now

i'll give a few non-specific examples (bc i'm too lazy to hunt them down to show you). there is a pretty popular (i think) youtube shorts personality who mostly does reaction-based videos, like i think it's actually mostly tiktok stitches reuploaded to yt shorts. but anyway this person, along with most other tiktok people who have subtitles for their lil internet rambles, are probably only basing off of their voice, like there's some kind of auto-caption that gets most of the words right, save for a couple small ones. i can understand that especially for the reaction/vlog crowd who are just trying to pump out videos, but like. i also follow john and hank green. they also reupload their tiktok stitches to yt shorts and have subtitles. and guess what? they're flawless. immaculate. you Can change them. or maybe they just talk better idk my point still stands that there is issue here stemming from having the computer do it with minimal to no touch-up. which leads me to my next example

one of the first nails in the coffin recently was this one pokemon youtube shorts guy i kept getting where he'd look into old game saves. all of the videos are subtitled, but similar to the tiktoks, it appears to be transcribing the voice on its own. what's worse and the most important here is that - remember - this is a series of pokemon videos. saying a pokemon name and expecting an AI to understand what that is out the gate is insane. and it doesn't. any time a pokemon's name is said, it just spews out words that are vaguely similar-sounding standard english words. and it's never the same each time too, which is fun. this is where taking the time to edit or even give a smidge of a damn to the craft of your video really would mean a lot, because for as many as i've seen it turns me even more off every time i see those shitty subtitles. but unfortunately that's not the worst i've seen in the last few days

the one that hurt me so much i physically could not stand it, to the point that i left a Comment on how bad it was, was an edit of a streamer's twitch VOD. normally, this streamer uploads snippets of their streams to yt shorts and has really good and well-edited captions there! i usually have nothing to complain about from this guy. but this one particular video... i don't know if it's because it's an older VOD and someone's just been holding on to it for months, or if it was a huge rush job, or What. but this video had literally the worst captions i had ever seen. they were just slapped down in chunks, not even lining up with the people who were talking, a negligible amount of punctuation, literally the barest minimum of effort. but that's not all! let's not forget that this is an edited clipshow, and there are Effects and Transitions for not only the video itself but the text as well! so SOME amount of effort was put into this because it got actually edited into a decent-sized video instead of just being a small clip. it's literally makes me sick i am so unhappy about it

main point, TL;DR, moral of the story: for the love of all that is holy, please remember that captioning is literally an accessibility feature. some people cannot hear or are unable to listen to videos sometimes, and i can't imagine what a hearing-impaired person who relies on subtitles to engage with videos would think watching either of my last two examples. what makes it worse, too, is that i can't even tell these people to hire someone to do it for them, because oftentimes they DO have people to do that work for them. and they still fuck it up. and then they continue on, to churn out more content. ugh just take a moment to remember that captions are not just for engagement. they're a tool, and some people can use only those as their guide through your video. don't make it impossible to parse. the purpose of them is to be read and understood. and you can't do that if the sentences are in overlapping chunks or if your words are too non-standard to be translated by a computer

#they at least all do a better job at captioning than youtube's built-in auto feature #it's okay in a pinch but it's really. really not good #but man do y'all remember when they Came Out with closed captioning and how incredibly and genuinely awful it was?#as well as unintentionally hilarious?#i must be one of the only people as obsessed with rhett and link's multi-layered cc translation series of videos today as from eons ago #a many charisma wrist to you and to all a good night

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