#*comes in 3 months late with starbucks* hi

[imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul]

Timeless - Peter Parker

A/N: Hello! Long time no see. Trying to get back into writing and was struck with the idea of creating fics inspired by Taylor Swift's work; however, that is a ginormous task. But in this thought process I was inspired to write this story. So alas, I present my first Taylor inspired fic. Who knows if or when they'll be more, but I hope you enjoy!

TS Prompt #1: Timeless (Taylor's Version)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader Word Count: 2.4k Synopsis: Peter and the reader fall into different love stories as they enter an antique shop.

Fall hits New York the same every year. Starbucks releases their pumpkin spice menu, the general public complain that it's too soon, and a week later colds and sweaters are no longer so far fetched. Central Park, once so green and full of life, turns dead and brown. There are fewer people on the street, or maybe it just seems so because they now huddle into one big mass to fight off the wind from the Hudson.

September 3rd, and you are tugging on a sweater you hadn't expected to use for weeks.

With the coming of fall also comes a new semester of college. A new year of classes, friends you'll only know for those four months, and long commutes to campus.

You take a glance in the mirror and brush back a stray strand of hair. As you check yourself over one last time, your phone buzzes on the counter next to you.

Peter: Coffee in hand, 3 minutes away.

You rush out of the bathroom, knocking the curling iron onto the floor, and tug on your shoes. Living on the thirteenth floor, it would take you almost three minutes just to get down to the lobby.

Hauling your back-pack over your shoulder, you blow a kiss to your cat and lock the door behind you.

Peter is walking to the front door as you come out of the stairwell. He smiles at you, holding out your coffee order.

"Hey," you say, a little out of breath. You lean in for a quick kiss and fall into pace together. "Thank you."

"Anytime. I figured coffee might make the first day back easier. Is that a new sweater?"

"It is. And it did," you say, taking a greedy sip of your drink. "What's your schedule looking like?"

"Nothing until 10, but then back to back classes. You?"

"I have a break around noon, but start first thing this morning."

"Excited?"

"I am," you said, looking at him. He smiles softly and takes your hand in his. "I like the first day - yeah there's nerves, but it's also full of new beginnings and hope."

"Including a new route," he says as you turn two blocks earlier than usual.

"My first class is on the far side of campus, this is a shortcut. You know, if your classes don't start until 10, you don't have to be here."

"I know," he says, smiling again. "And I can't promise that I will meet you every day at 8 to walk you to your class, but I'm happy to do it this morning."

"Walking me to class on my first day like a parent?" you ask with a laugh.

"Yes, and make sure you don't get to running away before I get that first day of school picture. I want it for our Christmas cards."

You're laughing as a window display catches your eye.

Timeless, the display reads, in large print newspaper clippings. The individually cut letters would typically look a little serial killer-y, but the shop had arranged a tsunami of old photos around it, making it look like a moment ripped out of time.

As Peter stops next to you, you realize the common theme of the display. In each photo, whether it's from the early 2000s or the 1930s, there is a couple in love. A woman with long hair and bellbottoms looks lovingly up at a man with a long beard and mustache strumming a ukulele. Christmas morning 1994, a man grins lovingly at his partner as he opens his PlayStation. Wedding dresses with big 80s sleeves, tea length gowns of the 1950s, and dancers in colorful geometric prints, all gazed back at the couple looking eagerly into the window.

"Let's go in," you say, practically subconciously.

"Aren't you worried you'll be late on your first day?"

"Aww, who gives a damn about ice breaker games?" you ask as you push open the door to the antique shop, the bell ringing in welcome. An old man at the register nods at the two of you, then goes back to his books.

"Look at all of these," you say, taking in the endless displays around you. The Timeless theme follows you inside. Not only do old photos cover every inch of the shop, but so do letters close to crumbling, porcelain trinket boxes that hold vintage rings, and clothes from every era imaginable.

"I wonder how long it took to collect all of this."

"Many, many years." You both jump as the man from behind the counter is now next to you. He holds a cane in one hand and his glasses in the other. "I've been working on this collection my whole life."

"It's incredible," you say with a smile. "Is it all for sale?"

"Most of it. Some of the pieces are from my own life that I won't part with. Did you notice the wedding picture in the window, bottom left corner?" he asks. You glance back towards the window and the shop owner laughs. "Of course you didn't. You could stare at it all day and still find new things. I do each day.

"Anyways, that's mine. Taken 40 years ago when I married my wife, Marjorie, right here in Queens. Don't believe I'll be parting with that any time soon. Just completes the collection.

"Well, look around the shop and let me know if you have any questions."

"Thank you," you both call as he makes his way back to the register. You exchange an amazed look with Peter.

"This is definitely worth missing ice breaker questions," he says. You laugh and lean up to kiss his cheek.

"I can't miss everything, but I think a few minutes in here are worth the delay."

You stroll away from him - both of your attentions caught by separate corners of the store. Peter wanders over to the small record section, the wall covered in Elvis posters, women draped effortlessly from his arms.

You decide to take a look at more of the photos. There are boxes upon boxes that look as if they haven't been opened in fifty years. There is no chance that even a third of them could fit on the walls of the shop.

You pick a box at random - a red photo box with a few scrapes along the side. Even looking through just the photos in this box would take hours. Thumbing through them, one catches on your thumb.

You pull it out and find a scene so familiar but unique all its own. Like the famous photo you saw in nearly every history class, a soldier kisses a woman in the 1940s. The streets around them are crowded, with other couples out of view embracing just the same.

The scene before you is a celebration and as you look at it closer, hoping to take in each and every detail, slowly the man's features shift to Peter's. No longer does the man have black hair. No longer is the woman he kissing the woman you first saw, she now looks just like you.

The streets are crowded. With trembling hands holding a small stack of letters, you look through the crowd, craning your neck to catch just one glimpse of him. All around you, loved ones are reuniting. Mothers are kissing their sons' foreheads. Women weep as they fall into the arms of their love.

Just as panic starts to grow inside you that maybe he's not back, that your prayers have not been answered, you see him. His brown hair is shining in the sun, his hat in his hands. His eyes, so full of hope, scan the crowd.

You cannot help the swell of emotions that come over you as you rush towards him. You knock elbows, mutter apologizes to the crowd as you make your way towards him. A few steps away, Peter sees you, too.

His smile grows into the breathtaking grin you love and missed so dearly, and before you can even process that he's safe, that he's home, you are crashing into his arms and his hands are in your hair.

You are melting in his touch as he kisses you. The long years of the war, the years of worrying, years of fearing every knock at the door, years of just one page of his words every few months, all slip away as the two of you come together.

His lips feel the same, which is somehow odd. How could all the years and all the changes you had both been through left this the same? Left this passion, this connection the same?

"Oh, I've missed you," he says, pulling away for air. You grin at him and kiss him again. Once, twice, three times until you are wrapped up in each other's arms again.

"Find anything good?"

Peter's voice jolts you out of your thoughts. Your pulse fluttering as if you truly were the women getting kissed in the photo, you show Peter what gripped your attention. He smiles and takes it gently from your hand. He looks at the inscription on the back you hadn't noticed.

"James and Dottie, 1944."

"It looks so much like that one we saw in school, but look at all of the people around them."

"So much love," he says, almost to himself. Your eyes meet and for some reason a slight blush covers your cheeks as you smile. The intensity of his stare becomes too much and you make your way down another aisle of the shop.

The shelves around you are full of books, some titles you recognize, some you don't, and some are so worn you wouldn't be able to even if it was your favorite. Once again, one stands out to you more than the others.

Half hanging off the shelf, a deep purple book draws you in. You take it off the shelf in a small cloud of dust. The inside of the cover reveals it is a romance, although that doesn't come as a surprise. You read at a whisper, "In the 1500s off in a foreign land, I am forced to marry another man . . ."

The walls surrounding you are tall and cold, the stone masonry reflecting the feeling in your chest. The white gown that drapes along your frame feels as heavy as chains.

At the end of this death march, the doors open upon a crowd full of people, your people, all dressed for the occasion. And there, at the end of the aisle is your betrothed.

But that man is not Peter.

The figure walking you down the aisle tries to usher you along when you come to a stop. Anxious eyes all around look at your frozen form..

"I can't do this."

The shock of what you've said gives your escort pause and you slip your arm away from his. Discarding the bouquet of roses, you take off back up the hallway.

Shouts follow as you run, gathering the skirts of your gown up in your hands, but you don't stop. Guards at the entrance of the castle reach for you, but guided by your heart, you are too quick for them.

The sun is shining when you break out of the castle, but you keep going. You go until your heart is thundering, your breathing comes fast, and Peter's cottage is in sight.

Even after the turmoil you experienced, just the sight of his home soothes you. You take a few steps up to his door and he opens it just as you raise your hand to knock.

"What are you--"

"I couldn't go through with it. I don't love him," you say. Peter lets out a surprised laugh, shaking his head gently.

"We talked about this. They'll come looking for you, Y/N."

"Then we'll run," you say, taking his hand in yours. "I don't care if we spend the rest of our days running, I prefer that to a life of luxury with someone I don't love."

"You mean it?'

"Yes."

"Then I'll keep you safe. For every second that we are together, for every moment that you are mine, I'll make sure no harm comes to you. I can't promise you riches, but you'll be safe."

"I gladly leave that all behind for you," you say. Peter is smiling as he closes the gap between you, his hands cupping your face as you melt into his touch.

You close the book with a secret smile and slip it back onto the shelf.

You know that you should leave, you are at least ten minutes late to class, and a few minutes walk from campus. But the shop has captured your heart, the stories embedded inside have.

"Y/N," Peter calls. You make your way towards his voice and as you do you pass more relics of the past. A photo of a 30's bride, high school sweethearts sitting on the porch of their first home, a young couple on the way to a dance.

"Hey."

"Hey, we should probably get going don't you think? You don't want to miss more of your first day."

"They are important," you say absentmindedly. Maybe it was because you had just slipped into fake memories, or maybe it was the fact that it was the first day of the semester, but looking at Peter, his hair mussed in a way that can only come from styling, a soft smile on his face, you were transported to the first day you met.

In a crowded room a few short years ago, on another September morning, first day of school, you lay eyes on Peter for the first time. Your fellow classmates are introducing themselves, the room filled with a dull hum of discussion, but your eyes only lock with his.

He smiles at you and moves your way. He holds out his hand and tells you his name, and somehow, you just knww. There's not always proof, there's not always a war or an arranged marriage. Sometimes, you just know.

"Yeah we should go," you agree. Peter leads the way to the door and holds it open for you. "I love you," you say, softly, and for the first time.

"I love you."

The temperature had risen since you entered the shop, but nevertheless, as you fall back into step together, Peter's arm is around yours and you know that one day, you'll have photos of the life you'll make, just like the ones in the shop.

[frances-baby-houseman]

I have fucking terrible news:

We are going to Mexico in 6 weeks.

I deeply, desperately do not want to go.

Ok I take that back I love mexico! I really enjoy puerto vallarta! My kids are obsessed with Mexico and it is very positive to be there with them. I love my husband and hanging out I guess but it's his fault we're going so he's neutral here.

ANYWAY my father in law is turning 80 next month so we cannot get out of it. My only hope and prayer is that bc my mother in law is coming (they have been divorced for 40 years), we will get a unit in my fil's complex and not have to stay with him. I genuinely do not think I can stay with him. I can barely look at him.

But in good news I told adam if he's forcing me to go to Mexico I'm going to buy a new dress. Even though I'm very worried about money. I might actually not buy a new dress but I might.

I am so stressed about this.

In good news we are only going for 3 days 4 nights. Arrive late Friday, Leave middday Tuesday. Three full days. I can do this.

I honestly don't know if I can do this. Like, can I sneak out to go to starbucks at 7am every day and just not come back? My fil will give me so so so much shit for going to starbucks but I went every day last year and the sun rises so late there and you can see so many stars and it was a very positive way to start my day!

[caralara]

I know Louis' your fave so I hope it's okay that I send you this. But recently the blinkers have been coming off for me in regards to Louis. I think I used to have him up on a bit of a pedestal. I just thought he was this really intelligent guy, really aware of social issues and willing to fight for the right thing and be rebellious when necessary. I don't know. I saw things playing out very differently. But unfortunately, lately, I've been seeing a lot of laziness and complacency and a willingness to settle from him. A lot of contradictions as well. Like he gets the anarchist symbol tattooed but doesn't speak out or place his support behind anything substantial. I'm sorry, legalizing weed is his most political stance. And then being seen with the Starbucks cup and actually covering it in the video like lmao. Not knowing what number year your festival is when he supposedly had big dreams for it. I know this is so small but it irks me that he's been going on about playing the guitar for years. And he is yet to bring it on stage for even one song! I know it comes from a place of self-doubt and insecurity no matter how confident he makes himself appear but like he just doesn't help himself. And fans exaggerating and praising every little thing he does as if he isn't just some basic white man does my head in. Sorry I word vomited on you and I know this sounds harsh but I acknowledge it comes from a bitter place where I feel like his potential is just not being met. At the end it's his life and I genuinely hope he doesn't have many regrets later on.

hi babe

I think I am completely in the same situation as you! I might not be triggered by exactly the same things but I’ve been going over and over it for the last couple days asking myself why I’m so annoyed with him right now?? And I think it really is just the disappointment finding out your fave man is after all, just a man.

Like, to me, it feels like he’s been stagnant since early 2023. right now, to me it feels like he’s just on the hunt for the cheap thrill, getting the validation in that he also can pull massive crowds of screaming girls just like he did during 1D (and it isn’t even the actual validation he’s looking for??? Like he still starts yapping every time a man validates him as if it’s so much more important??)

I feel like he lost focus, or energy, or both. You know, you said it!! You know I love Louis to death, he’s my favourite, and genuinely, I don’t blame him. It makes a lot of sense to me. He’s finally proven himself to not be a flop to all the people doubting him. He’s overcome all the obstacles, did LTWT and had massive success with it, way beyond anyone expected, rode that wave, made a second album that proved he’s not a one hit wonder either, an album he actually enjoyed making, and proved his fans liked it, too. And then… it just kind of stagnated. His team made mistakes and miscalculations. Announcing Asia tour so short notice thinking, then cancelling bc it didn’t sell out, handling the announcements horribly, not realising LTWT was massive bc of all the pent up excitement and desire throughout years of a pandemic, the magnetism of it being the first solo world tour. They also didn’t get it when it came to Milano Summer fest vs. AFHF. The 35k sold out bc it was announced many months in advance and it was the last LTWT show - that’s meaningful to fans. It was easily accessible. You can’t translate just the numbers to „it’s bc he’s popular in Italy,“ there’s so many factors at play they ignored, and therefore AFHF Italy only sold 2/3 of tickets, and a lot of these people didn’t even show up (couldn’t, I better say).

For me, FITF felt like he had checked out a little. He’s plateauing. The excitement and irresistible draw he has is largely due to his resilience, his underdog persona he created that allows normal people to identify with him. And there just wasn’t any… growth since early 2023. He‘s also alienated a large part of his fandom with the bbg pushes, and as you know, I still believe it was all part of the bigger plan to end it, but it does feel like he gave up, got comfortable. And it’s not that I blame him for it necessarily?? Like all he’s been through? It makes a lot of sense to me that now he’s achieved all the things people told him he wouldn’t be able to achieve, that now the burn out sets in, that now, the driving energy of spite and wanting to prove himself has run out.

I feel like the jokes of “oh I’m a pothead I can’t remember if it’s the third or fourth edition of my super duper important close to my heart festival project” or “oh yeah sometimes I forget I’m an actual parent and have a kid” are getting old. Like, it doesn’t serve him anymore it feels like? To me it feels like the weed was a coping mechanism that helped him get through hard times, and that’s completely valid, but now it looks like to me it’s holding him back, blurring his genius.

I’m sorry for the rant back to you. I’m deeply upset because Louis is my escape, my happy place, fandom is my comfort, and I feel like it’s slipping through my fingers because it causes me more upset than happiness at this point. The amount of “kill yourself” messages I have gotten over criticising louis for announcing AFHF so short notice is frankly INSANE. Do people not talk to other people in real life?? How do the people around these people that send those messages deal with them in real life?? It’s so upsetting to see how many people feel comfortable typing out these kind of messages and sending them.

I do hope this feeling of mine calms down, and I can go back to just glorifying louis and have him as my comfort place, because I do not like the thoughts I have and the way it makes me feel.

[echodrops]

The Promises I’m Making (2025)

After the absolute garbage fire that was my life in 2024, I'm kind of just sitting here like... "What do?" What do I even try to focus on for 2025? Will the promises I make right now even be relevant in two months' time, given how many plot twists my life has become prone to?

There's also definitely a correlation between not having money and struggling to come up with resolutions. Why does everything in life cost so much?

Please 2025... let me live in uninteresting times...

2025 Promises

1) Ensure the plumbing repairs in the Utah house are completely finished and the ceiling/floors are restored.

2) Pay back as much of the loan I had to take out as quickly as possible to reduce the monthly payments.

3) Have the AC unit in the Texas house replaced and paint the ceiling where there are water spots from the leaks.

4) Clean up the kitchen area of my Texas house; there is a bunch of kitsch accumulating on the far edge of the counters that I just don't need in a kitchen.

5) Get all the bookshelves/books organized in my Texas house.

6) Clean off my back patio/car port area in the Texas house so I can park my car there again.

7) Call a handyman and have the Texas house bathroom faucets replaced.

8) Clean out the Texas house closets and figure out what to do with all the old boxes like my old computer boxes that I've been cramming in there.

9) Put up a shelf in my room for my figures so that they're not completing clogging up the top of the dresser.

10) Fix the damaged spot on the backyard fence of the Texas house.

11) Clean out all the drawers in my desk/side tables/etc. What is even in there???

12) Take better care of the Texas house lawn, like fighting weeds and trimming the hedge more often.

13) Assemble my new display case and actually successfully organize/display all my plushies. I have... too many plushies...

14) Change the burned-out lightbulbs in the recessed lighting in the Texas house ceiling. It’s like twelve feet high and the lightbulb changer stick I bought didn’t work, so I’m going to have to find someone with a ladder. Save me, handyman. Save me.

15) Help my brother reorganize his furniture in the room he's staying currently; dude has never heard of the concept of maximizing space and it shows.

16) Help my parents tear out the carpet in my old childhood bedroom.

17) Actually use the yoga mat I bought forever and a day ago. This year... for sure...

18) Walk the dog more. Even if the dog herself doesn't like walking when it's hot out lol.

19) Lose at least twenty pounds.

20) Do a complete re-read of Noragami and post some of my closing thoughts on the series.

21) This is super nerdy, but my bro got me the FFXIV cookbook and made me promise to actually use it, so I guess I’d better at least try to make something from it. (Years later, I'm still... trying... lol)

22) Take at least one decent picture of a wild sea turtle.

23) Reach the new level cap with all jobs in FFXIV. I'm late, whoops.

24) Spend less on gacha games and Starbucks. Gotta save money…

25) Close out my old credit union account and call to check in on closing any old credit cards I might still have.

26) Fully deep clean and vacuum/detail my own car at home. No more of the “It doesn’t make sense to clean it out now; the dog is just going to go back in it.” The dog is always going to go back in it. Clean it, Echo.

27) Complete my follow up medical appointments and handle all medical situations in a timely manner.

28) See at least three new species of birds. Doesn’t matter where, just three new ones!

29) Get a new battery in my watch so I can go back to wearing it.

30) Waste less food; I buy things all the time and then don't get to them before they go bad. It's the worst.

31) Make use of the Sam's Club membership my parents bought me for Christmas.

32) Repair the lovely one-of-kind ceramic plate that my dog broke with kintsugi. I want to try it at least once!

33) Block more people. I know this sounds odd but I have a terrible habit of getting into debates when I see bad takes on social media and honestly there's no point in wasting so much time. I gotta block and move on a lot more lol.

34) Put all the small prints, postcards, and stickers I have collected in my new mini-print books. I can even use up washi tape to decorate too. (Finally, a purpose for the washi tape…)

35) Get the situation with the IT systems at work resolved so that all data can be correctly submitted.

36) Apply for online adjunct positions to help make extra money on the side.

37) Make sure my classes are ready to go before each semester, including properly scheduling the announcements and everything.

38) Buy birthday cards in advance for everyone so I have them available to send when birthdays come around.

39) Draw more this year. Maybe I won't have time to fully line and color artworks digitally, but I should at least not let my tiny amount of art ability wither into nothingness...

40) Write and post something... Anything at this rate, please.

41) Build the pretty koi paper lantern my brother got me, or the Korean temple model my coworker gave me after his trip to Korea.

42) Visit the beach more often... Need relaxation...

43) Take better care of my kitty. It's not like I don't take decent care of her, but I definitely put more effort into doing things with the dog than the cat and I think she is big jealous.

44) Go see at least one play. Live theater is good for the soul.

45) See about removing the PMI from at least one of my house loans to try to save money. I’ve been paying on these loans long enough I shouldn’t need PMI anymore.

46) Take a day trip to Santa Cruz Island with Kacchan.

47) Read the book that has been on my "To read" list for the longest time. I don't know which one that is off the top of my head, but I will finally finish one that has been on the list!

48) Try to go to bed earlier more consistently than last year; I really punished myself with terrible sleep over the last few months and its not helping the health situation.

49) Go through my bookshelves to find books to donate, then donate the books to people's little free libraries.

50) I will keep my promises! 

Good luck, 2025’s me!

[3terna15unshin3]

Then Because She Goes

When you leave, I cry on the inside

★ Chapter 4 of 15, 3733 words

★ Matty Healy x Original Female Character

★ warnings: alcohol consumption

<< 3

28 November, 2018

The train ride felt excruciatingly long.

Cate and Este sat facing each other in their seats, talking occasionally, but Cate was busy on her laptop and Este had her nose tucked into a book. 

“I’m getting sick of riding the train to London, to be honest,” complained Cate. Este removed her left Airpod to listen to her. “It feels like it moves slower every time I’m on it.”

She had been coming into London a handful of times a month for work, and since it was so much busier than her hometown, it gave her constant headaches. The company she worked for had a branch of offices in Manchester, where Cate was hired, but it was based in London; so, a particular merch collection forced her to travel down much more often than she wanted to. But, she was just as excited as Este to be at the album release show; so she didn’t mind being in the city this time around.

Matty graciously offered Este to bring a friend, so of course, her flatmate was tagging along. He sent her a couple messages to let her know that her and Cate’s name would be on the guest list. Other than those few to let Este in on the details of the concert, not many words had been shared between the two since he’d been over to her flat. Little time had passed, and Este knew Matty would be super busy with the album release, so she didn't feel the need to reach out. Even though she finished reading You Are Here earlier in the week and surprisingly found it really eye opening and worth the read.

“Just remember, in an hour or so we’ll be all warm and cosy in my nan’s house. And she’ll be force feeding us a bunch of food,” Este reminded her. “Plus, my granddad finally got his hearing aids fixed so you won’t have to repeat everything you say until he understands it!”

Cate laughed and continued clicking away on her laptop while responding. “Are you sure they’re okay with us staying there? We could’ve easily just booked a hotel, I don’t want to be intruding.”

“Seriously, they love hosting guests. They’d never feel like we were intruding. I haven’t visited overnight in a while too, so I’m sure they’ll enjoy the company,” Este assured her.

Continuing in and out of conversation, they drowned their ears in music through their headphones. Then, the journey came to a close, and they rifled through the bodies in the underground to head over to Florencia and José’s house. The elderly couple welcomed them with open arms and, like Este assumed, immediately fed them a hearty dinner. José, Este’s grandfather, sat in his usual spot on their leather reclining chair to face the television while Florencia and the two girls sat at the dining room table. Both had full stomachs.

“What are you two in town for again? A show?” Florencia asked, struggling to remember what Este had explained over the phone.

“Yeah, a concert. It’s Matty’s band, actually. You remember Matty, right?” she posed, although she was sure her nan remembered him. When calling her about coming down to London, Este brought up the fact that she was his nurse back in 2011 and even sent the photo her way. Florencia fully gushed about how wonderful he was—showing pure excitement that they’d managed to meet again years later in a Starbucks, and that he’d  met her granddaughter. Este recalls her using the words ‘a fine young man’ to describe him.

“Oh yes, of course! You know, you should invite him to the party in February. I think he’d enjoy himself.”

Cate and Este both laughed at the craziness of her suggestion. They had been extensively planning her and José’s 50th wedding anniversary celebration—the party Flo was referring to. It was a dinner and dance event with a program, a DJ, and the works. Most things Florencia mentioned as of late had all somehow looped back around to be about the party, so José was used to it. It was practically a second wedding.

“Lola, he’ll be touring next year. I don’t think he’ll have the time to come to your party,” Este said, a laugh still evident in her voice.

Her grandmother shrugged. “Doesn’t hurt to ask, anak. He can be your date.”

Este went red and covered her face with her hands.

“I thought I was supposed to be your date?!” Cate joked.

They finished helping Florencia clean up in the kitchen and then went up to the room they were sharing, picking their outfits for the following night. Both Este and Cate only brought a couple of options, as their bags were quite small for the two-night stay. 

“Fuck, I should’ve brought that red top with the stars,” complained Cate. “That would go so well with these pants.”

Este felt like they were in school again, deciding what to wear before a night out and emptying all of their garments onto the floor. They continued the ritual, holding up various pieces up to their bodies to try and build ideas. But, Este’s phone buzzed just as they were coming to a decision.

[este.manansala]: trumanblack: Doors are at 7 tomorrow btw, so if you show up around then security will take you back so you can have a drink and meet the others before the show :) If u want to!

Cate took a second to read the notification on Este’s phone and then looked up at her. “He’s inviting us backstage for drinks before the show?”

Figuring that standing at side stage would require going back there anyway, Este wasn’t too shocked. Spending time with Matty in person let her come to terms with how aggressively human he truly was, and him reaching out and inviting them to the show helped distract her from the irrational insecurity that their friendship didn't mean anything to him.

“Yeah, I guess. He did say that there was room at the side of the stage for ‘friends and family’, so I assumed we’d be back there,” she responded casually.

“I feel like we might need to put more thought into these outfits now.”

✴ 29 November, 2018

The two of them did not consider the long queue of girls that would be inevitably waiting to be let into the venue. Too considerate to cut to the front, which they were most likely allowed to do, Este and Cate shivered in the cold winter air. It was moving fast, thankfully, since everyone was hurrying to get a good spot; so after repeatedly standing and then shuffling forward, they got to the front.

“Um, I think I’m on the list. Este Manansala?” she asked the bouncer nervously, insecure that the girls behind them could hear her and would judge them for holding up the line. He looked over to another man with a clipboard, who scanned his eyes over his list and then nodded at the girls. A ‘thanks’ was thrown from the smiling girls to the bouncer and the people who let them in, before a security guard welcomed them into the rooms further into the club.

Este’s hands were clammy as they walked up to the door that had a small ‘The 1975’ sign on the front, aware of the fact that they were about to be socialising with heaps of new people. Cate followed behind her as they entered, seeing a couple of black leather couches and small coffee tables. There was a bar along the back wall with various bottles of liquor and a stack of glass cups. Buzzing conversation filled the room as people mingled familiarly, some lounged on the furniture and others standing in small circles. They decided to quietly keep to themselves until anyone approached them, standing together at a tall cocktail table.

Matty’s fingers fought with the curls framing his face as he pushed them away, chatting casually with his brother. When their conversation phased out slowly, he found himself scanning the room—seemingly at the perfect time—as his eyes caught Este’s brown ones.

Slightly nervous, he shot her a smile and observed the redhead standing with her. That must be Cate, he thought to himself. Matty weaved his way around each small exchange happening between the handful of people in the room, and finally reached the two girls.

“Este,” he said with a sigh of relief, happy that she’d shown. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

She grinned and welcomed him in for a hug. “I’m so glad to be able to see the show,” said Este as they broke apart, Matty casually embracing Cate after she continued. “This is my best friend, Cate.”

“Lovely to meet you,” started Matty. “Este's told me you do graphic design?”

The conversation immediately took off as he and Cate delved into topics surrounding her job and its artistic components. He was knowledgeable about the subject and had an awfully distinct taste, directly referencing certain movements or time periods that stood as inspiration for the art he made. Cate appreciated Matty’s efforts to get to know her style and to understand the drive behind her career, even showing him examples of her previous work.

Then, a man so tall they had to tilt their heads upwards to look at him approached. Matty’s eyes lit up as he appeared, excited for Ross to meet them. “Oh mate—these are my friends Este and Cate. From Manchester,”

“Ross,” he introduced himself, looking at each of them and smiling. “How do you guys know each other?”

Este made eye contact with Matty. He raised his eyebrows, encouraging her to explain instead of him. “I work at a book shop in Manchester that Matty comes into whenever he’s in town, so since then we’ve kind of started our own two-person book club over Instagram DMs! Which is, now that I say it, probably the lamest explanation I could have possibly chosen,” she said, embarrassed, scratching her temple.

“Please never call our friendship a ‘book club’ ever again. That's horrible,” Matty defended. “I’d hope that by now it’s more than that,” he said, making goosebumps raise on Este's arms. “Her nan was also my nurse when I got my gallbladder removed.” 

The bluntness in his voice made Este and Cate giggle, Ross clearly used to his antics. “Cool story, mate,” he responded sarcastically. “Can we hear more about that one surgery you had like ten years ago? We’re all dying to know!”

“First of all, it was only seven years ago. Second of all, shut the fuck up,” Matty corrected.

Small talk circled the four of them as Este and Cate got to know Ross and vice versa. Hearing the familiar name while eavesdropping from one of the couches adjacent to the group, George butted in loudly, already slightly buzzed. “You’re Este?”

Another gigantic man presented himself and hung on Este’s right shoulder. “Yeah,” she said, confused about how he knew her. “And this is Cate, my best friend.”

“Nice to meet you. George,” he said. “I heard the spiel about that book you told Matty to read on the plane a while back. And I’ve got to say, you seem lovely, but that book sounded really fucking weird.”

Este went on to try and defend it, but the rest of the group went on to tease her playfully. Matty eventually dragged Adam over to them as well, the girls finally meeting the entirety of the band behind their dance anthem of late May. These people feel warm and fuzzy, thought Este. They’re the real deal. Her eyes rarely left Matty, though.

The group setting allowed her to study him discreetly, appreciating the recognisable inflections in his speech and casual stage outfit hanging on his body. His ability to completely immerse himself into a point he’d like to make, going on without caring how long it would take to get there. It was peculiar that those traits on other people seemed mundane—but for Matty, they were just reasons for Este to keep listening to what came out of his mouth.

Although she didn’t notice, Matty spent their whole conservation observing her just as closely as she did him. He could tell how much she loved Cate and how they supported each other throughout moments of uncertainty. Este spoke with her hands. Fidgeted with her necklace some more. Always threw her head back when laughing really hard. And even more deeply, Matty took note of her intellect; how she managed to use purposeful language even when the subject was lighthearted or one-off. He indulged in Este as much as he could during the short bursts of time they had together.

When show time neared, the band left to do some last minute preparation, allowing Cate and Este to hold their own for half an hour before it started. They met a few people, most of them in the room being friends of the band—some family—but stayed fairly reserved, not wanting to intrude.

Then, the show began. Their view from the side of the stage was surreal. Este couldn’t recall a show she’d been that close for, peering at Adam from his side. Both her and Cate tried to keep their cool, as the people around them were, but couldn’t help themselves from moving further back for more space to get lost in the music. Este was enthralled by seeing Love It If We Made It live, the experience leaving an even bigger impact on her than the recording.

It was electric, Matty’s performance. She watched him own the stage incredibly comfortably, clearly having years of experience. He seemed at home up there. Like music was his air to breathe. Every person in the room couldn’t peel their eyes away from him.

The short setlist ended far too soon, and the two girls enjoyed themselves purely. “They’re fucking rockstars,” commented Cate. Este agreed as they walked over to the toilets, taking a much needed wee break and wondering what would come next.

“Surely there’s an after party,” Cate suggested, fixing her top in the mirror that hung above the sinks. “Would you want to stick around if he mentions it?”

“I have no idea. The idea of partying with them sort of freaks me out,” Este admitted.

“We’re in this together, babe. If you go down for acting piss drunk then so will I.”

✴

An hour into the post-show party, a fairly intoxicated Matty danced next to George—the DJ for the night. A half-full bottle of wine was gripped in his right hand, and after the emotional release that was their 14 songs performed earlier, they were ready to get fucked up. There are too many people to talk to, thought Matty. Settings like these did bring out his social side, and the conversations he’d been having with everyone at the party were sincere; but they drained him. So, he resorted to dancing. And got increasingly drunk as the night went on.

He was subconsciously disappointed that he hadn’t seen Este yet, assuming her and Cate either took off already or had gotten lost in the sea of bodies filling Pryzm. His eyes tried to focus and recognize them when scanning the room, but the dim and sometimes randomly flashy lights prevented him from coming to any conclusion.

About to give up, Matty finally found her. Dancing with Cate to George’s lively set. Her arms were up in the air, forehead glistening with happy perspiration. They both looked like they were having fun. Thank god, Matty thought, as his worries vanished. The alcohol in his system lifted his feet one after the other to encourage his body over to them. His much less impulsive and much more logical sober-self would have stopped him, but that wasn’t the case this time. Luckily, they were near the edge of the dance floor, so reaching them didn’t take much effort.

Cate saw Matty approaching, eyes widening with excitement and nerves. He was sweet to her, so she had no reason to be unsure, but he was also the man of the night. “Hey!” she greeted him excitedly. “The show was amazing. You guys are amazing,”

Her compliment felt genuine. Matty clutched his hand over his heart, thanking her. “Thank you guys so much for coming. It means a lot, and you know, this new album feels so fresh for us and I think it’s our best work. And I was so confident with releasing the singles, so I can’t wait for everyone to hear the whole album, but tonight really made me nervous, for some reason. So I’m really happy you were here and got to meet the guys and see the show, since you just remind me of Manchester and of humility and the city, so thank you. It feels really grounding. Really, thanks.” He looked between both Este and Cate during his slightly slurred rant, brows furrowed with sincerity, placing his hands on both of their shoulders.

“We were seriously so entranced. And so thankful to even be in a room with that kind of energy,” replied Este, placing her hand kindly on top of his.

The three of them continued to speak highly of each other for a couple of minutes. The loud music drowned out a small portion of their perception, and the liquid courage increased their comfort in one another’s company.

“Do you guys want another drink?” Matty suggested.

Cate shook her head no, already feeling it a little too strongly, but as she looked over to her black-haired friend, she could tell Este wanted another. Asian-glow lit up her cheeks, showing up after the couple of G&T’s she had downed.

Another drink couldn’t hurt. “I won’t say no to that,” Este said. “I can bring you one, Cate, if you want.”

“I’m staying put, to dance. I don’t feel like having to look after a glass. Go ahead though, I’ll be here!”

Matty guided Este through to the bar, his hand hovering over the small of her back; hesitant to make contact. They laughed playfully as they kept the conversation going, both sufficiently and happily drunk. To their surprise, it was quite empty. So, they had a seat on two stools before asking for a G&T for Este, and cracking open another bottle of red for Matty.

“Do you want to know the real reason why I’m glad you enjoyed the show?” he posed with a sliver of sincerity in his voice, but covered it up with the tone of their giggly demeanours.

Este took a sip of her drink. “What, were you lying about what you said earlier? All those niceties like how we ‘ground’ you, or whatever?” she teased and chuckled, watching his face distort as she made fun of his drunken speech.

“No. I wasn’t lying, thank you very much,” Matty confirmed. “But there’s a truer statement that I’m going to tell you right now because my stomach feels warm and tingly from the wine.” He leaned closer, raising his hand to whisper in her ear, as if it was a secret. Este tilted her face away so his voice could reach her ear more easily. “I really care about what you think of me. Like really, really care. I think it’s because I think really highly of you and that you’re like, really cool, so I want you to think I’m cool too.”

She turned to face him, cheeks on fire, the dimple apparent on her left one. “That’s very cute of you, Matty. Thank you.” Este tried hard to contain her smile and appreciation for his kindness, but failed miserably as the giddy grin on her face couldn’t be wiped off, despite trying. This is the second time he’s called me cool. Maybe he actually means it, she thought. Getting into his space, just like he did her, she whispered back, “I do think you’re cool. Don’t worry.”

Matty threw his hand over his heart again, then comically pretended to wipe sweat off his forehead in relief. “Bless!”

Their conversation twisted and turned through topics of both relevance and unimportance. Musical influences, his pants being hemmed a little too short, their primary school experiences, Este’s thoughts on You Are Here, Matty’s non-existent thoughts on On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous (since he revealed that he hadn’t even opened it yet).

Forgetting they left Cate on the dance floor, the two of them tried to wrap up their drunken blur of a discussion. But, one more thing popped into Este’s mind, as she chewed on the ice cubes from her now empty glass. “You know what’s funny?”

“What’s funny, Este?”

She laughed to herself, as the warmth in her cheeks had now spread through to her whole abdomen. “I’m staying with my nan, you know, since I’m in London. And when I mentioned that I’m in town to see your gig, she like fully, seriously, told me to invite you to her and my granddad’s 50th wedding anniversary party,” Este admitted as she shook her head in embarrassment, too tipsy to avoid mentioning it.

Matty’s curiosity was displayed on his face. “Has she really?”

“Yes, like actually. Her and my mum have been planning it for months, it’s going to be a dinner and dance, and everything. Renting out a hotel banquet hall to host it,” she explained.

“Tell me a time and a place, I’ll be there. Only for Lola, though.” He beamed at her with a wink as Este smacked his chest and they made way towards Cate.

After dancing for a couple more songs, they decided it was time to take off. Both a bit sloppy, Cate and Este found each band member dispersed throughout Pryzm—giving them a shouty ‘Thank you!’, and a congrats-on-the-new-album hug.

Este stopped at Matty one last time, embracing him with her sweaty arms and pecking his cheek. “Thanks so much, Matty. It genuinely was such a great night. You deserve all the praise.”

A quick inhale with his nose close to Este’s temple made him notice how good she smelled, even after a long night of dancing. He thanked her back, immediately sobering up to get his point across unfeignedly, rubbing her back in assurance and then letting go. They smiled at each other before Este broke their eye contact, and the two girls strolled to the exit, hopping in a cab back to Florencia’s.

5 >>

[delektorskichick]

2 3 16 29

Assuming this is for the bored and anxious fanfic writer asks:

2) Do I read/reread my own fics?

Hell yes! Even fics that I’ve gifted someone else are written for me, by me, and it’s fic I want to see in the world. Since it’s fic I want to see in the world, I read it all the time!

3) What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written?

Honestly it’s probably one of the two I’m working on right now that both kind of spiraled out of control? One is a (mostly) canon-compliant Clint/Nat/Laura fic that I wrote mostly at @cassiesinsanity’s urging, and the other is a multi-fandom spin-off of ANOTHER fic I’ve been working on (that was SUPPOSED to be a ONE-SHOT, dammit!) that is now longer than what I’ve written of the original fic.

16) At what point in the process do you come up with titles?

Unless a title slaps me upside the head at the beginning of a project (like honestly most of my NaNo works) it’s the last thing I figure out before I post it. And usually you’ll find me screaming into the void or scrolling those Criminal Minds quotes for something. Or I steal one a friend who’s read the fic comes up with.

29) Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic.

So here’s the thing. I don’t edit. I don’t cut things. I might spawn an idea or two that I never get to, but I don’t write them down. What little I do cut just isn’t really long enough to say that it’s an idea? I’m one of those people that will slap anything up on Ao3 once it’s complete enough to be coherent. Or I’ll use bits that fit for things like Whumptober.

BUT!

I dug through my word docs and found a thing that won’t be posted for a LONG time yet because I’m stymied on plot currently. It’s from a clintasha fic where Nat is a tattoo artist and Clint is a barista.

*

Natasha walked into Howlie’s Ink Parlor -affectionately known as just Howlie’s- on Fulton Street, fifteen minutes late and without her usual Starbucks.

How on earth Steve managed to see her from where he was bent over his buzzing needle, Natasha didn’t know, didn’t want to know, honestly. But see her he did, and she heard the raised eyebrow in his voice when he spoke.

“Cutting caffeine cold turkey there, Nat?”

Natasha growled quietly at him as she slumped down on the stool at her station, chucking her bag under the desk with a careless thud. Her head was pounding, and she couldn’t even manage to be disgusted at the gooey love eyes Steve was making at James over his literal labor of love. He was putting the finishing touches on the scar-covering tattoo that he’d been tweaking and refining for the last eighteen months on James’s left arm.

Normally, Natasha would have just rolled her eyes and pulled out either some new flash sheets she was working on or pull up a design to do some last-minute tweaking of her own for a client. Normally her ferry was on time. Normally the last Starbucks before she got to Howlie’s wasn’t closed to undergo surprise repairs.

Normally she probably could have handled all that and just laughed it off, getting herself a cup of Steve’s horrible instant decaf in the breakroom and pretending it was real and bitching about her, admittedly ridiculous, commute.

But damn Matt Murdock and his shitty-ass timing. She hadn’t gotten any sleep last night, and she was getting too fucking old for that kind of shit.

*

Hope that was what you were looking for!

[chl3borzoi]

SOOOOO i blocked my sister

Youre entitled to not like family after theyve done shit things.

Yes, my sister was a great resource when i was i my preteens letting me live with her during the summer, and for getting on my brothers for their behavior when i was in my early early teens but by that point it was kinda far too late

The thing that did it was on Thanksgiving last year she came with a woman weve never met before thats shes only known for 4 months saying theyre getting married in 2 weeks and moving to texas immediately after.

Our brother and his partner brought them out to lunch and tried to say hey we think youre going kinda fast you should take more time to get to know each other etc. They flat out told him theyre not invited to the wedding. Then when she gets home after that, she comes downstairs to find me and tells me theyre getting married, and she leans in and whispers "you're inviiiiteeeed~"

Shes in her early 30's

The thing is our MOM couldnt even attend because it was such short notice. And the marriage place couldnt get the shitty zoom stream to work. Our mom had to watch a recording of the service.

I looked out the deck window and saw her lying on her back on the porch watching the video and I knew her heart was broken.

Like. Christ im gonna put it all out there

I could tell stories of how my sister used to make me cry as a child, too. And where our parents failed to parent and the eldest should have taken the place of responsibility and etc she didnt give a fuck and YES a child should never have to act a parent role thats shitty but she was 15+ yrs old she shoulda fucking known better. (I have literally my entire family to blame for almost all of my issues, But still. During my crucial years i really do feel she did not care, and it didn't help that between me and her we have 3 THREE brothers who (one of which legitimately hated me ) too)) I DIGRESS

She let our childhood home turn into a jungle because she was too busy sitting in sweatpants smoking pot and drinking starbucks and begging our mom for more money to be put on her account,

(its all torn down, now too.)

We havent spoken very much,

Mostly just snapchats here and there

And a few days ago she sent me a chat on here saying shes revamping her account and wants to be active on here, so i blocked her.

Not only because i want tumblr to be an escape from personal real life shit but because i don't really wanna communicate or be reminded of her selfish dumb behavior.

Shes extremely hard to communicate with in person, too. Literally! I feel like im crazy trying to explain it. Shes so slow... it feels like trying to have a convo with her sometimes it feels like shes unintentionally gaslighting you. I know that sounds dumb but im fuckin serious.

She was so helpless when we helped her move, too. Pacing back and forth and fretting over all her shit (we're a packrat family yeah but holy fuck shes gonna end up being a fuckin hoarder) and me and our mom were just lifting stuff and carrying it out like :/

Sheesh

I don't hate her or wish her or her wife any ill will, its just. Fuck man. Walk in, break our moms heart (as if it isnt already broken after all the shit weve been thru as a family...) and act like everythings fine and perfect.

Also I literally witnessed my sister do/say this to her wife

"Hey, -blank-, come fight this pokemon go tournament for me."

Like

?!?!?!??!?

She was like "okay :D" but still thats so fucking bizarre

[fahrni]

Saturday Morning Coffee

Good morning from Charlottesville, Virginia! ☕️

Pretty typical week. Slow around the house and busy at work. I have yard work today and we’re gonna install a new ceiling fan later, most likely tomorrow. Kim let me sleep in, it was really nice. Stayed in bed until 10AM, so off to a really late start with morning coffee and writing. 😃

John Brayton • Golden Hill Software

Unread for Mac is now available from the Mac App Store. Unread for Mac incorporates every Unread capability that makes sense on Mac including:

I’m so happy for my friend! John really shows his chops as a Mac developer in this release of Unread for Mac. I’ve had the honor of being on the Beta for months and I’ve watched new features land with high quality and witnessed John polish the user interface to a beautiful sheen.

Unread is a prime example of a Mac-assed Mac App.

Congratulations, John! ❤️

ESPN

Simone Biles reclaimed her Olympic title in the women’s all-around at the Paris Olympics on Thursday.

This is so nice to see Ms. Biles rise to the top of her game once again.

Congratulations, Simone! You make us proud! 🇺🇸

Kylie Robison • The Verge

Mark Kalman, X’s engineering lead of media, and his second-in-command, Melissa Merencillo, resigned today. They announced their departures in a company Slack channel on the day stocks vest at X, which a source suggests might explain the timing.

X is such a cesspool. I’m surprised anyone has hung around to work with Space Karen.

He’s pushed so hard to make X into a Nazi, white supremacist, waste land, and by and large succeeded.

I really wish we could convince the likes of Stephen King and many, many others, with strong voices to leave that shit show.

Epic Games

We are fast approaching a quantum leap in Epic’s efforts to bring our games to players on mobile devices. Fortnite will be returning to iOS in the European Union soon, and the Epic Games Store will be coming to Android worldwide and iOS in the European Union bringing all developers great terms: a store fee of 12% for payments we process, and 0% on third party payments.

It’s interesting Epic chose to undercut Apple by only 3% on payment processing. That will, however, hit the bottom like of companies that pay 30% to the App Store once they cross the magic threshold (I can’t remember what it is, so it’s a magic threshold for this post.)

The 0% fee is absolutely amazing and it would be lovely to see Apple do this, but, it could cost them hundreds of millions of dollars per quarter if all the big players were allowed to do their own thing.

Andrew Harnik • AlterNet

AG Garland knocks Cannon’s classified docs ruling: ‘Do I look like someone who’d make that mistake?’

A little shade thrown by the AG! I love it!

Judge Aileen Cannon based her ruling on a passing comment made by Supreme Court Judge Clarence Thomas when writing about the Trump Immunity Case.

Yeah, it was done as a favor to Trump to delay the case yet again.

Once the Presidential Election is over, and TFG has lost, hopefully the good work of prosecuting him can get back on track.

NASCAR

Spire Motorsports confirmed on Thursday that Corey LaJoie, driver of the No. 7 Spire Motorsports Chevrolet, will not return to the team following the 2024 NASCAR Cup Series season.

This news really bummed me out. Corey LaJoie is an extremely hard working journeyman of NASCAR. He’s never won at the Cup Series Level but throws his whole heart into everything he does.

I’m an avid listener of his podcast, Stacking Pennies, and I hope the man is considered for a Cup ride on another team. It seems unlikely but I’m pulling for him. ❤️

A seat in the Xfinity Series or the Truck Series would at least let him continue to race. 🤞🏼

Eirka Turlock • CNN

A Starbucks app outage on Tuesday left customers unable to place a mobile order, delaying caffeine fixes for millions of coffee lovers until the app returned to service later in the day.

This is completely unacceptable! 🤣

Coffee addicts all over the country were left with the shakes, sweating, and irritable because they couldn’t pickup their drinks easily. THEY HAD TO GET IN LINE OR WALK IN THE NERVE OF STARBUCKS!

I’ve always claimed Starbucks has one of the best mobile ordering experiences in all of food services. Outages, unfortunately, happen.

David Goodwin • AppleVis

It is with deep sadness and a heavy heart that after careful consideration I have made the difficult decision to step down from my responsibilities with AppleVis. As a direct result of my departure and following extensive deliberation, the editorial team has come to the painful conclusion that AppleVis will be closing.

It’s been a rough time for magazines for a very long time. 🪦

Game Informer

After 33 thrilling years of bringing you the latest news, reviews, and insights from the ever-evolving world of gaming, it is with a heavy heart that we announce the closure of Game Informer.

I’m not a gamer but this has to hit hard! It’s such a bummer to see long running sites fold like this. 🪦

Josh Marshall • Talking Points Memo

But yesterday FBI Director Christopher Wray said, ironically in response to a question from Rep. Jim Jordan, that it’s not clear whether Trump was hit by a bullet or debris kicked up by the gunfire. I think in context that’s likely a bureaucratic and gentle way of saying Trump probably wasn’t hit by a bullet. But let’s stick to the precise words. “There’s some question about whether or not it’s a bullet or shrapnel that hit his ear.”

Congressional Republicans love to focus on the wrong thing and make a big deal out of it.

Let’s talk facts. Someone attempted to assassinate the Orange Man.

It doesn’t matter if it was the bullet or something else that touched his ear enough to make it bleed.

He’s just really lucky whatever hit his ear didn’t actually hit the meat of the ear. It most likely would’ve taken most of it off and done additional damage to him.

Luckily the man’s brain is already so damaged a little more wouldn’t hurt. 😆

Ryan Adamczeski • Advocate

Elon Musk’s trans daughter Vivian Wilson slams his anti-LGBTQ+ comments as ‘ketamine-fueled haze’

Ms. Vivian is super funny! Elon is really missing out on a great kid and proves once again he’s a terrible father. His poor kids are basically fatherless in this world and get to watch their “father” implode into a conspiracy theorist lunatic right before their eyes.

Pathetic man.

Lincoln Carpenter • PC Gamer

Fortnite players declare the Cybertruck public enemy number one: ‘You are now in a truce with everyone else in the lobby until they’re taken down’

I’ve never played Fortnite and I’m not much of a gamer but I feel like I should become a Fortnite player just to hunt these things down and blow them up. 🤣

Jordan Novet, Ari Levy • CNBC

Delta hires David Boies to seek damages from CrowdStrike, Microsoft after outage

Boise has already lead a successful prosecution of Microsoft of while with the U.S. federal government.

I actually feel really bad for Microsoft, not so much for CrowdStrike. After a deal with European Regulators they felt compelled to allow companies to run at the kernel level of NT.

I hope thy go back to the older model and lock things down.

Theo Burman • Newsweek

California Wildfire: Man Saves 100-Year-Old Ranch With Homemade Sprinkler Defense System

A little old fashioned ingenuity at work! I love this story and feel so bad for California at the same time.

The poor folks in Canada as well. 🇨🇦

It’s just tragic we have wildfires every summer in California and it’s just going to get worse.

[theorist-influencer-untitled]

5.9.23

3:20 am

I accidentally awaken, I saw that the light in the kitchen is open and the lamp light here in the living room is off...

I went outside to ask RV if he left the light on in the kitchen and he said yeah! I forgot coz supposed to be I will cook... I said ohkay.....

But who pull out the switch of lamp in the living room?

I always leave a light in the living room to remove evil spirit.... Though, I can sleep in total darkness but there are times we need to remove some negative element by leaving lights on even a lamp...

I still have windblow trap.... Hmm....Hmm....Still, I wanna leave the hometown...

7:59 am

Uncle Jun went out to forest of his Georgia'Z gang as well and never say a thing and changing his behaviour...Even here in the house we are flat again coz of their leadership,I can feel it... There is an old pattern again of Uncle Jun's behaviour... Even Uncle DD's strange behaviour of trying to find the tank of his vacuum not only the circular cover of his vaccum...

Well,I'm thinking these things...

8:12 am

Uncle Jun and Kuya Marvin is on the fire fighter track announcing a free vaccine for kids starting 9 months for german measles and flu, at the covered court...

I hope our playground here will be transformed into gym coz I guess nobody is going there to play... Just thinking but I wanna go back to the gym outside...

We have no pool here coz this is originally a military village... There is a security on the gate, at the opposite direction of our street here...

I still wanna leave the hometown... I still need a job away from here...I don't have plans to be poor here in the Philippinea of wild animals and some bad monkeys....I need a love and care coming from an alien who will be mutually compatible with me, my view and craziness about life... The shallow happiness of Hime, to buy starbucks everyday... And be boring with me.... But I love adventure...

11:08 am

Looking for my own wind beneath my wings angels...

2:11 pm

I still have the windblow trap... I feel frustrated and still watching so many Netflix blah2x such as "Desperate Housewives" Season 7 Episode 5, Kyle's story was really intriguing and indirectly... I already explained this kind of situation, it is a private matter... Still, on "Superstore,Cloud9" and reviewing anime "1 piece"....

My personal thing I wanna leave the hometown... No saviour... No rightful Jesus... I don't like anybody here... I FEEL.TRAP!

3:55 pm

I'm wishing that there will be a new changes in me soon, a good soul will come my way...I feel bitter... I have a windblow trap... I never really betray a friend coz it is bad to stab a friend from behind... But simply describing the situation is different...

I feel hurt and bitter... I wanna leave the hometown... I wanna grow and gain new friends away from here, if I can't find new friends to have here and there...

Well, my upbringing here in this village, I had a curfew when I was 13 years old until I finished college....I had to be inside the house before 6pm, even a 1 minute late is considered a late time, meaning I will be grounded for a week or a month... My upbringing just be decent on your neighbor,smile and help or be simply a good person if they need you. But I hate people that will overlap my presence...

It is not my character to hang-out outside for no reason... But my actual friends are not in this village... My neighbour here didn't actually know us here coz it's been a long time since this tight situation is presently existing in our family... People here had their own private lives....

My childhood bestfriend in this Village is Apple or Diana Cuizon is somewhere out there, she is a teacher somewhere here in Cavite...She is super busy now....I feel self-pity coz I can't get success... I really feel self-pity...

I wanna leave the hometown... I feel hurt they all overlap my presence... I wanna buy starbucks everyday... I wanna leave the hometown....I feel bitter....I feel self-pity for 16 years...

I still hate the Georgia'z, BetsilogZ Gang plus their Daddy Jun plus their Uncle DD... They all organize to go up. .

I need to leave the hometown... I feel self-pity... I lost xfactor... All of my gf's are betraying me, I guess at the back stage???

9:03 pm

I hate being 2nd choice...Last on the line to be seen...Why? Why, I'm just always a 2nd choice?

9:23 pm

Snap...

9:43 pm

??? Get it right now...

I feel bitter...

11:38 pm

Done,showering....Still,have windblow trap... I have complex....Sometimes I hate men and hate women who will overlap me... I feel that I wanna kill men for damaging me for 16 years or trapping me unfairly....

You feel that you are longing to see your old friends so that you can hear good things about yourself coz they are your friends... But what if some old friends are damaging me at the back stage or they just chose to be in the bathroom forever and happy fucking one another and they just need me now to bail them out??? It is totally unfair and painful in my part...

I need explanation... I deserve to hear their explanation....

[matthewtkachuk]

you can hear it in the silence - ryan graves

Four times you think Ryan might love you, and one time you know he does

pairing: ryan graves x reader

warnings: mentions of alcohol, a little angst if you squint, slight reference to cheesy romance novels - don't come for me for referring to romeo & juliet ok

word count: 2.5k

a/n: sorry this is a little bit late - i went to toronto, got covid, and then moved right at the end of the month and i'm a poor planner 3 @gravestrain i hope you love this!!! thank you as always to @antoineroussel for not only hosting this thing and letting me borrow stef whilst giving her an americanized name and the happy ending she deserves but also doing her damnedest to fix my grammar issues (you will have to pry my run on sentences and epithets out of my cold dead hands). special shout out to @danglesnipecelly for helping me pick a name for this bad boy and to @ryngrvs and @hotanddistraught for tryin' to help me put it into words. title and inspo is of course from the cult classic "you are in love" by taylor swift

one: one look, dark room / meant just for you 

Ryan’s a friend. 

The first one you made upon your arrival in Jersey to be precise, and one who very quickly became your favorite of them all. Nico’s got good eyebrows and Jack has a sly smile and PK is always down for anything and Nate and Mikey are clearly in love—but Ryan’s easily your favorite. It’s a world you’d never belonged in before and yet one that you slip into without much difficulty. 

It starts with an invitation to sit with Nico’s girlfriend at the season opener and turns into a standing date that you only miss if you absolutely have to. The girls are fun, Steph most of all, but the other girlfriends and wives welcome you into the fray even though you hold neither title. You make it three games before Jack’s daring you to wear his jersey. Steph thinks it’s funny and Nico looks at you like he might know something you don’t, but then Ryan’s offering you his instead and you’d be lying if your traitorous heart didn’t wonder if it meant something more than friends.

You wonder that a lot, actually. 

Wonder if it’s just Ryan’s polite, Canadian nature that has him holding doors open for you and asking that you text him when you get home safe after a night out; wonder if it’s just something Ryan does, the way he memorizes your Starbucks order and knows your favorite ice cream and the exact right toppings to put on pizza; wonder if Ryan exchanges looks with anyone else—all raised eyebrows and laugh lines and upturned mouths.

The looks are secret, special. A million different words and thoughts and communications pass in a single glance meant only for you. When Jack’s being an idiot, when Steph and Nico are too cute, when you miss your drink with your mouth and end up with a barely noticeable stain on your shirt. They say things like: “are you overwhelmed? Do you want to leave?”, “are you feeling alright?”, “when was the last time you ate?”

Tonight the look is shared from across Nico and Steph’s living room. You’re being cornered by a guy who introduced himself as “The Devils Captain’s Future Cousin-In-Law” and who hasn’t shut up about the ACL injury that “kept him from going pro, but he totally could have.” You’re not entirely sure that cousin-in-law is a legal distinction, and you’ve met plenty of might-have-been pros trying to keep up with actual professional athletes, and so nothing leaving his lips is of any particular value or interest to you.

Scanning the crowd, you look for any reason or excuse to vacate the conversation, trying and failing to catch someone’s eye until Ryan looks up. He reads the distress call and rises to the occasion valiantly, all but pushing Steph’s cousin to the side in his over the top greeting to you. 

The aforementioned not-quite-major-leaguer grumbles, but quickly realizes he’s no match for the large defenceman, disappearing back into the crowd to probably find someone else to bother. 

“Thank you,” you breathe out a sigh of relief. 

“Anything for you,” is all he says before dragging you to the kitchen to make you another drink because you ‘definitely deserve one.’

“Steph, your cousin is fucking annoying,” you tell her later that night.

You fear it’s the wrong thing to say, are prepared to backtrack immediately at her shocked, silent face, but then she’s laughing. “Yeah, I know. I was going to go save you, but someone else beat me to it.” She motions toward where Ryan is standing across the dark room. You hiss and grip her wrist to get her to stop pointing, but there’s no use—half the team has looked over at your little commotion. It doesn’t matter anyway, though. 

Ryan’s eyes are only on you.

two: small talk, he drives / coffee at midnight

you: you up?

ryan: Is this a booty call?

you: *eyeroll emoji*

you: no, idiot. I can’t sleep 

ryan: Wanna go for a drive?

Fifteen minutes later you’re slipping into Ryan’s car in your favorite pajamas and an old hoodie. 

“Cute,” he chuckles, tugging on your flannel bottoms before you slap his hand away. 

“You’re one to talk,” you counter, lunging across the console to ruffle his messy hair he’s pulled back with a familiar looking scrunchie. “Is that my hair tie?” 

Ryan pauses mid laugh like he’s been caught red handed in a bank vault with a ski mask. A light blush coats his cheek and he reaches back as if to pull his hair done. “Uh, yeah. Did you want it back?”

A warm feeling fills your belly as you sit back in your seat, shaking your head. “Nah, keep it.”

He flashes that awkward grin at you and motions for you to put on your seatbelt before he puts the car into drive. He takes several twists and turns that you don’t recognize in the midnight darkness, each street sign and traffic light blurring into the next. 

“So where are we going?” You ask a few minutes later, fiddling nervously with the radio station, never letting a song play in its entirety as you search for something you don’t even know you’re searching for.

“I know a place.”

‘A place’ turns out to be a Dunkin’ Donuts beside a McDonalds and you laugh out loud when he turns into the first drive through. 

“You don’t like it?” he asks.

“I love it!”

He doesn’t even need to ask your order at either place and he certainly doesn’t take your offered wallet, just smiles at you and tells you that you can get it ‘next time.’

“Thank you for a lovely evening,” you tell him in a semi-sarcastic, overly-polite tone to mask the fact that this is one of the sweetest dates you’ve ever been on and it’s not even a date. Or, at least you don’t think it’s a date. 

The heated look in Ryan’s eyes when they quickly slide over to look at you in the passenger seat have you wondering otherwise. “Did you really think it was over?”

Twenty minutes later sees Ryan pulling over on a random dirt road outside of the city.

“Star gazing?” you ask, unable to keep the hope or the excitement out of your voice. 

He pulls a blanket out of the back seat and hops out. “C’mon.”

It’s now officially the most romantic date you’ve ever been on, cold McDonalds fries and watered down iced coffees between you be damned. 

“Look up!” He points to a shooting star blazing across the night sky. You do, your shoulders brushing against his and the moonlight glinting off the small pendant around your neck. 

He doesn’t kiss you that night, but you feel a fundamental shift in the energy of your friendship from there on out.

three: morning, his place / burnt toast, sunday

Burnt toast is a sign of a stroke, right? You wake up with a killer hangover and the aforementioned offensive smell. It’s undercut by what you hope is the strongest coffee known to man, and ultimately the promise of a caffeine fix is what gets you out of bed. There’s whistling too, you realize as you approach the kitchen, and it’s not until that whistle stops mid-note with Ryan’s shocked face that you look down at what you’re wearing. 

It’s an entirely-too-long-for-you red Devils shirt with 33 on the top right corner and you can only assume the number rests on your back too alongside his last name. It’s really not that different from the jersey you wear to every game and yet it’s completely different. More intimate somehow, despite the design being quite similar. The way his Adam's apple bobs alongside his suspended hand holding a bright yellow spatula tells you that you’re not alone in your thoughts. 

“What are you burning?” you finally break the tension with a joke. His shoulders relax before he spins back to the pan of slightly burnt eggs.

He drawls sarcastically, “It was supposed to be breakfast.”

The air crackles between the two of you as you eat silently side by side at the kitchen island save for the occasional “can you pass me that?” and “thank you.” You’re lost in thought, but so is he, contemplation written clearly across his face for you to read.

After breakfast, you put your jeans from last night back on, but you don’t change into the sparkly little top you were wearing, preferring the comforting cotton of the fanatics branded t-shirt. Ryan notices, if the way his eyes linger on the number at your shoulder is any indication. It sends a little thrill through you and reminds you of all the times you caught him looking a second longer and a touch heavier than just a friend would do. 

“I would stay for a second course of your lovely cooking,” you state with sarcasm dripping from your tongue, “but I should get home. I have a very important date.” As his eyebrows raise up toward his hairline, you find yourself stumbling over an addendum, “Uh, with my couch I mean. And Netflix. All alone.”

“Good,” he says quickly, before backtracking. “I mean, sounds good.”

When you smile at him, he relaxes but the tension doesn’t fade between you as he walks you to the door like the gentleman he is.

The kiss he presses to your cheek, right near the corner of your mouth is less gentlemanly.

“Text me when you get home safe.”

four: you kiss on sidewalks / you fight, and you talk

“Are you mad at me?” 

It’s the entirely wrong thing to say to your friend of six months turned… whatever it was you two were to each other. His shoulders are tight and there’s a stormy look overtaking his features.

“Am I mad at you?” Ryan is animated and incredulous in a way you’ve never really seen him off the ice. The fire in his eyes is one you’ve only ever witnessed right before laying a heavy check… or right after taking one from the opposition.

“Yes, are you mad at me?” Unfortunately, you’re the doubling down type 

“I am mad. And disappointed. And… and feeling pretty stupid right now!” He advances on you, but there’s nothing aggressive about his stride, even with the way his six foot five frame towers over you. It’s not aggression, but it is passion and there’s a wild frenzy about his actions. 

“Stupid? Ryan?” Your voice is so much smaller than it normally is, the dark tempest of your disposition tamed by your uncertainty in the moment.

“I lo-like you, okay?” He seems to catch himself, but you can almost hear the unsaid four letter word between you. There’s no time to dwell on it or to respond to the revelation, not with the way he slows his movements to step tentatively into your space, hands reaching for your hips and head inclining down towards yours. “As more than a friend or whatever we are. I think about you all the time. And you don’t have to feel the same, but it kills me to think of you going out on a date with some other guy.”

You’re at a loss for words—the combination of his close proximity and his unexpected confession has your brain all but short circuiting. Slowly, you speak. “I don’t want to date anyone else.”

“You don't?”

“Steph and Meg were just bugging me back there. They think it’s funny to poke fun at my lack of a dating life. Besides, everyone knows it’s you I’m crazy about,” you admit quietly. 

And just like that, right there on the sidewalk outside the team’s favorite bar, Ryan kisses you for the first time.

plus one: you’re my best friend

A road trip has Ryan getting in late. 

He’d told you that they’d had to wait for some bad weather to clear before taking off from the West coast and had offered to go back to his own apartment to let you get your rest, but you’d solidly turned that down. Besides, you were at his apartment anyway—his salary means he can afford the nicer things in life and that includes the most comfortable king size mattress you’ve ever laid upon.

You don’t regret your decision one bit. Not even when he flicks the light on in his bedroom approximately four seconds after getting in before softly apologizing and turning it back off. Not even when he stubs his toe on the dresser in the dark, a sharp curse escaping his lips without any fight. You don’t regret your decision, because after the minor interruption to your REM sleep, he’s slipping into bed next to you and pulling you close. After a long week apart, you welcome the feel of him around you and slip back into a peaceful slumber.

It could be only minutes later or several days—you sleep so peacefully when Ryan is near—when you’re woken up by the rustling of sheets and the cold absence of your boyfriend beside you. He’s sitting up in bed with the strangest look on his face. A mix of confusion and acceptance and peace alongside something else.

“Are you okay, Ry?” you ask with sleep heavy on your eyelids and weighing down your tongue. 

He doesn’t acknowledge you at first, so lost in the heavy weight of his own thoughts that you softly call his name again. This time, he turns toward you and speaks only a single phrase: “You’re my best friend.”

A single, simple phrase and yet, you knew.

He is in love and you are in love and you are in love with each other. 

Always a hopeless romantic, you’d devour cheesy romance novels as a young teenager, read thousands of books where the main characters risked everything for love. You’d always loved reading the dynamic, but you’d never understood it, not really. Not until now.

Not until your boyfriend all but declares it in the sanctity of your dark bedroom on an ordinary night just like any other. 

You understand it now, why Darcy bettered himself for Elizabeth, why Noah never gave up on Allie, even why Romeo and Juliet did what they did—even if it could have been solved with a bit of communication and maturity that two sixteen year olds were clearly lacking.

‘I love you’ is a phrase you’ve uttered millions of times in your life, but no I love you ever meant as much as Ryan’s quiet admission. 

“You’re my best friend,” you echo before pulling him in and kissing the sweet smile off his face.

[cyborg-franky]

Heard you were having bad brain times and wanted some silly fun stuff, i gotchu.

How about some stereotypicallly basic white girl things op characters do?

Some ideas(feel free to add your own): loves pumpkin spice everything, says shit like "totes ma goats", lives for drama filled "real tv" shows, wears a pink tracksuit, watches Mean Girls religiously(the movie title is very literal,you don't need to have seen it), listens to Taylor Swift all the time, loves Twilight, eats a bagel for breakfast everyday, planned their outfit based on a white suburban mom's pinterest board

Just some ideas, hopefully this is fun and I hope you feel better soon💜💜💜

With love,

-Zell

May darling <3 I love this idea and I feel better and sorry this took a second.

I hope no one takes offence, I'm white as hell so like.. yes. [also we are all a little white woman aren't we, deep down there's a Beccy and a Karen lurking]

Marco  He’s the bitch that can’t wait for pumpkin spice to come around. He also showed up to Wano 20 minutes late with Starbucks which is pretty white girl of him. His Sphinx outfit looks like a mom coming back from yoga.

Ace Spends too long looking at TikTok. Daddy issues.

Thatch Drinks wine and writes smut.

Izou Goes and gets his nails did but spends the entire time gossiping about the bitch down the street and her shit haircut.

Law Is a huge twilight fan and spends hours online fighting about whose better looking that one guy or the other one guy. 

Rayleigh All around his home is ‘wine o'clock’ -  ‘everything is better with prosecco’ and has those bowls that say ‘bowl ‘plate’ and so on. ‘Live Laugh Love’

Buggy Would murder someone if they messed up his $80 extensions.

Hawkins I can imagine him telling Kaido he can’t go out and kill people because ‘uh don’t you know Mercury is in retrograde? I just can’t babes’

Boa ‘R U OKAY HUN?’ at every vague sounding Facebook post that's like : ( or ‘ugh’

Nami Is the person who posts : ( vague on facebook. Also, she’s a huge Karen, fight me. She would walk up to God himself and ask to see his manager. 

Thatch, Killer, Sanji Could spend hours watching episode after episode of ‘Real housewives of Dressrosa’ and ‘teen mom Grandline’ 

Zoro, Kid Post gym selfies on insta making sure you can see their protein shakes.

Nami, Vivi, Boa, Rebecca Do ‘Zumba’ and won’t shut the fuck up about it and makes it their entire personality for the three months they attend.

Perona ‘This car is powered by fairy dust!’  ‘princess onboard!’ ‘my other ride is a broom’ bumper stickers.

Whitebeard ‘My children are my world’ and the stickers that are stick figure families along the back of his van. Fighting a salesperson who gets paid minimum wage over 10 cents.

Hawkins, Drake, Izou Won’t leave the house before checking their horoscopes. 

Mihawk INSANELY LONG COMPLICATED COFFEE ORDER and will make you make it again if that milk is full fat.

Shanks Woo girl 

Sabo Sticks gum in someone's hair if they even mildly piss him off. Spends $400 on boots and never wears them. Oh, watches you make his drink like a hawk and before you make his second one 'Um excuse me, I ordered TWO drinks' while your still making it.

Queen, Black Maria At a restaurant ordering dessert ‘Oh I shouldn’t’ ‘Oh no babe, you deserve it’ ‘okay, I’ll be a devil and have a piece of that cheesecake’ BOTH GIGGLE

Doffy, Kaido Pink tracksuit bottoms and small dogs in their handbags. Shades and purses that cost more than your house. Roger Takes one sip of a beer  and acts drunk ‘I’m sooooo wasted guys omg’

Franky, Sanji, Roger, Thatch Crying over movies like  ‘Dirty Dancing’ and wishing they could be the girl and the lead guy is so hot omg.

Corazon "I'll just have ONE glass of wine" and the glass is the side of his head. or runs a bubble bath and drinks three bottles but it's not a problem it's self care.

Tag yourselves, I'm Marco with a dash of Thatch.

[pensat-i-fet]

A Manchester Affair (Rúben Dias): Chapter 3

Chapter 2

Chapter 4

Masterlist

Wattpad

After getting out of the bath, she quickly got dressed and towel-dried her hair before heading to the kitchen to make some dinner.

When everything was in the oven, she heard a knock on the door. Of course, it was Rúben.

“What’s wrong with you?”, she said as a welcome.

“What?”, she could see his smile falling. “Can I come in?”

“Do you want to call Jack before? So he can join us?”, she said, annoyed at him but letting him get inside the apartment. The last thing they needed was for the neighbours to see any of this.

“You are angry at me”.

“Wow, I guess that’s why they call you a smart player. You catch on quick!”

“I didn’t want to offend you earlier”, he said, trying to apologize.

“Well, you did. What happened between us doesn’t mean you get to do shit like that whenever you feel like it. And not in front of other people. What if he saw you?”

“Jack is always oblivious and he wouldn’t care…”.

“Well, I care!”, she said, leaving him by the door while she went to check the dinner.

“I’m sorry”, he said, following her into the kitchen.

“Were you going to apologize when you knocked on my door?”

“What?”

“You didn’t, did you?”, she said, closing the oven door again. “You thought you could come here and it’d be Sunday all over again”.

“Well, yes. We had fun. Is it wrong for me to want to have fun with you again?”, he said, getting defensive.

“No, but I’m not your sex on-demand neighbour. You are not my boyfriend, Rúben, I get that. You don’t have to buy me flowers but you could at least ask me if I’m in the mood instead of just assuming”.

Even though she closed her eyes, she could feel him staring at her. It was then he noticed how tired she looked.

“Lucía, are you ok?”, he asked tentatively.

“No, I’m not. I’m really tired and working for a team that is just pure chaos. And whenever something else happens, I just…I worry I’ll be out of a job by next month”, she said, finally vocalizing her biggest worry. And then hating herself for showing that vulnerability in front of him.

“It’ll be fine”.

“You don’t know that”, she whispered.

Had she looked up, she would have seen him trying to decide whether to approach her to comfort her or not. But she didn’t.

“Just leave, ok. I want to have an early night and rest”.

“Sure”, he said leaving the kitchen. “Just know that I’m really sorry”.

“Yeah”.

**

After Rúben left, Lucía did as promised and went to bed straight after dinner. She worried about their little fight keeping her awake, but exhaustion won the battle.

When she woke up hours later, she felt rested but kept on replaying everything that happened yesterday in her head. Was she too harsh with him? She knew she had the right to say all the things she said but maybe she should have let him tell his side of the story. Well, too late now.

When she was ready to leave, she was surprised by finding a note on her door. “Look down,” it said. And when she did, she found a Starbucks cup. She lifted it and read the order, noticing it was the same coffee she ordered every morning. Stuck to the bottom of the cup was another note. “I’m sorry”.

“Me too”, she said. And made her way to work, not needing to stop for a coffee this time.

What she said to Rúben was true. Two losses in two matches were making the atmosphere at the club unbearable. She knew the season was going to be complicated but not this complicated and right from the beginning. Whenever a player twisted an ankle or had a weird fall, she held her breath. Injuries were the last thing they needed.

But thankfully that didn’t happen and the weekend arrived quicker than she imagined. A weekend that felt a bit weird since there was no match for United. It was because of that that she had Saturday off. She decided to go shopping. Retail therapy had never failed her before, after all.

And four full bags of clothes later, feeling a  bit better, she made her way back home. Maybe she could order some food and have a chilled night.

But when she got inside the building, she saw Rúben on his way to the door. 

“Hey”, she said.

“Hi. You ok?”

“I am, yes. And I wanted to thank you for the coffee and tell you that I accept your apology. I would have done it before but I don’t know which apartment is yours and it’d be weird to get the wrong one”, she said, laughing.

“It’s the one on the left. Same as yours”.

“Good to know”, she hated how awkward the conversation was but couldn’t expect anything better. “You were going out?”

“Yes, just for a little walk. We have a match tomorrow and I always overthink things before one. Especially when I know I won’t be starting”.

“You won’t? Why?”

“Rotation”, he shrugged.

“Ok, well, good luck tomorrow anyway”, she said, turning to go to the lift.

“Do you want to come with me? To the walk?”

She tried to think of excuses to say no but found none. “Ok. Just let me take the bags upstairs”.

**

It took them a couple of minutes to start talking, the tension between them clear despite the apologies given and accepted.

"Thank you for forgiving me. I felt like shit after our fight".

"I was too harsh with you, I know. I…"

"No, you weren't", he interrupted. "You were right. I don't know what got into me. I just…you make me lose control a bit I guess".

"How?", she asked, confused.

"I mean, I struggle with you. Which sounds stupid because I just met you but it's true. On Sunday, I couldn't just go home without at least seeing whether you felt the same way. And the other day…I don't do things like that. But I felt compelled to do it almost. I just needed to be closer to you but went about it the wrong way".

"I get that. I also felt a connection with you right away", she laughed. "It was weird but I guess that can happen. People having a ridiculous sexual attraction or something".

"So you felt the same?", he said, sounding hopeful.

"Yeah. I did".

"What are we going to do about this, then?"

What to do? Great question. She didn't want to rush things but as she had said, the connection was there. And it felt stupid not to do something about it. They were both single. And literally lived two sets of stairs away from each other. Why not take that opportunity?

"We could be like friends with benefits?", she suggested. And when she turned to look at Rúben, she saw something in his expression that she couldn't understand.

"Is that what you want?"

"It's not so much what I want, Rúben, but what I can offer", she said, honestly. "I just came out of a relationship that ended up in a very nasty way and I have struggled", she laughed nervously. "I tried this being casual, hooking up with guys during the summer and I couldn't do it. But with you I felt different. So I guess that means something".

"Right. Yeah. No, it sounds good. You're right".

"You sure? We don't have to do this if you don't want to".

"I do want to", and the smile he gave her fooled her into believing he was being honest.

**

"I'll let you go rest", she said when they both got back to their building. "Maybe we can meet tomorrow or something? For our friends with benefits trial", she laughed.

"I can't. We are going to Barcelona after the match".

"What? I thought the match was on Wednesday".

"Yeah, well, Pep wants to spend a couple of days there", he shrugged.

"Of course, it's his idea", she laughed. "He would move the Etihad there if he could".

"Probably", said Rúben, laughing too.

"Did he tell you something on Monday?", she asked, curious. "About us? Because I feel like he was trying to be sneaky but he was quite obvious".

"He did. He asked me about what happened between us and I just lied to him and told him we separated once we got home".

They both laughed.

"Ok", she said, "see you whenever you're back then".

"Thursday".

"I'll write it on my calendar", she said, laughing.

**

The next day, she was back home on time to watch the Newcastle-City match. As he mentioned, Rúben was on the bench but he had to substitute one of his teammates that got injured.

The match was crazy and ended up with a 3-3 draw. All three goals were conceded when Rúben was on the pitch. Lucía bet he wouldn't be happy about that and sent him a message saying she was sorry.

Rúben: "Thanks. I wish I could see you tonight instead of going on this stupid trip".

She wished that too. Very much.

[highdramas]

the world’s a little blurry | b.b.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: none

word count: 2107

summary: bucky is home, and he is yours

note: this is a one shot for now, but i definitely have more ideas for these two <3 this’ll be heavily inspired by tfatws so this is a spoiler warning for anything mentioned! also this is my first time writing bucky so pleaseeeeee give me some mercy lol

enjoy! <3

it’s nearly three in the morning, and you’re lucky if you stay up past midnight, so bucky makes a point to be quiet as he tiptoes into the apartment. after a mission gone awry in the apartment building where you had been neighbors, you’ve been staying with the superhero. something about not losing you and you’re safest here. bucky’s not stupid— caring about someone is a gamble, and it had become clear to his enemies who exactly it was that he cared about.

living with you came lots of things that bucky was not expecting. first off, you’re very cluttered. you call it controlled chaos, he calls it a mess. he’s fascinated by the state of your night stand, mostly. a dying plant and one loose airpod, two half empty water bottles, an empty starbucks cup.

second off, you have a cat. her name is katherine, but you call her kitty, occasionally kiki. and while bucky had been determined not to get attached, after awhile, it was difficult not to. she rubbed up on his legs, cuddled in his lap on the couch, slept on his chest in the middle of the night. she’s fucking adorable, and not even the winter soldier can deny that.

third off… you. you as a whole. he’s sure that it would’ve been a shock living with anyone, but the care that you give him… he’s not used to having someone making sure he’s eating. he’s not used to someone checking up on him throughout the day. he’s not used to having someone to come home to.

it’s nice.

it feels safe.

and he’ll kill anyone who tries to take this peace away from him.

bucky groans as he shucks his jacket off, feeling exactly where his muscles ache. he tries to keep his volume minimal. finally, he opens the door to the bedroom. the bedroom that you share.

this was the biggest adjustment of all.

he’d barely slept in a bed at all before you came along. too soft, too comfortable. he told you as much that first night, and what you had said shocked him.

“well, i’ll just sleep on the floor with you.”

no, oh, just get in bed. no, c’mon, it’s nice. none of those things. just understanding.

but it was more than understanding. it was meeting him exactly where he was.

that was three months ago, and you had kept your word. if you weren’t sleeping on the floor with him, you were on the couch with your hand tangling down, brushing along his hair, his shoulder. every time he felt you bucky swore that he could cry.

it was two months ago that he suggested you both sleep in the bed. and while it wasn’t every night, and some nights he padded out to the living room with a blanket and pillow… it was progress.

and he would wake up to find that you had joined him on the floor.

the nightmares weren’t gone. he’s not sure if they ever would be. but they were growing few and farer between, and the ones he did have were growing more manageable.

things were getting better.

of course, they were not perfect. and he knew that you didn’t expect them to be. he has therapy once a week, sometimes twice during the particularly hard weeks. he’s grown close with sam and his family. and… you.

his girl.

as the door creaks open, he almost chuckles at the sight of you. you’re laying horizontally across the bed, taking up both your side and bucky’s. katherine is curled in at your chest, her nose nearly touching yours. your mouth is open and he can see that there’s a bit of drool in the corner of your mouth, and that does make him laugh. it stirs you and he freezes.

bucky watches as you slowly wake, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, and then rubbing the drool from your mouth. “ew,” you mumble, still half asleep, and bucky leans in the doorway wearing a smirk.

“go back to sleep, doll.”

you hum and stretch, and so does katherine, giving a wide yawn. “you’re home.”

home.

had he ever had a home before? 

he did once, as a child. a time that feels so distant, so separate from the life that he leads now. sometimes, it’s hard to even picture the faces of his family members.

he had this apartment, but it never felt like home. not until you waltzed into it with your clutter and your laughter and your vibrancy. not until you cooked dinner hip to hip, not until you listened to music that he had never heard of, not until you watched some movie that was your favorite.

you’re home.

bucky smiles and he nods, sitting on the edge of the bed, pushing your hair back. “i’m home,” he says quietly. “i’m sorry i’m so late.”

you shake your head, your hand taking his. he still wears the gloves. you raise your eyebrows at him. “can i?”

he nods. you make quick work of removing each of his gloves, tossing them across the room, which makes bucky smile. he knows he’ll be picking those up in the morning. you press a kiss to his palm, the one that is flesh and bone. and then you take the other and do the same. “missed you, buck.”

something in his heart constricts as he watches you-- washed in moonlight that comes in through the window, sleepy smile on your face, eyes fixed on him. he knows that look, and he knows what it means. he doesn’t know if he deserves it, but he tries. he’ll always try for you.

“i wasn’t even gone twenty four hours,” the smirk is evident in his tone even if you can’t see it, but you scoff and roll your eyes. “i think you’re needy.”

“needy!” you repeat and laugh, falling back onto the pillow. kitty stirs and looks up at bucky, letting out a loud meow. “she’s the needy one. look at her.”

“both of you.” he scratches kitty’s head and then kisses the top of yours before he stands again. “i’m gonna shower.”

sleep is escaping you and you push yourself up onto your palms. “can i join you?”

he chews on the inside of his cheek and shrugs his shoulders innocently. “better pick up the pace then, soldier.”

with a laugh, you kick the sheets off of you. “yes sir.”

he rolls his eyes and you both shuffle into the bathroom. now, in the light, you’re able to get a good look at him. and your jaw drops slightly at what you see. “bucky,” you say and he already knows what’s coming. you touch the side of his face where a bruise is blossoming. “how the hell does this even happen?”

“part of the gig.”

you groan and he smiles and he does so because he loves you. he loves your mess and he loves your doting, he loves your cat and he loves coming home to see that you’ve taken up the entire bed. “you’re an old man. one of these days you’re gonna have to retire.”

“got unfinished business first.”

you know of his past. of course you do. although, you’re a firm believer that it’s not his past, rather than a past that was decided for him against his will. you’ve made a point of making your stance in that clear. you have heard stories of what bucky has done, but you have tutted and shaken your head. “what hydra did.”

these are the things that bucky tells himself, but it is different to hear it from someone else. someone who is not steve, or sam, or another avenger who has also committed morally grey acts. because, yes, they are all good and trustworthy and worth listening to-- but you. you are his girl. you are his girl who laughs at his jokes and teases him and never once babies him for what happened to him, but you’re also the girl who has woken him from nightmares, who has tended to his wounds, who has been held back from a fight just to defend his honor. you have seen him in his entirety, and you have never balked.

“alright, well--” it’s not lost on you how his eyes trail down your body as you undress, turning on the water and checking the temperature. “as soon of this business of yours is finished…”

“i know.”

the two of you share a look and he gives a crooked grin. “you look nice.”

“there’s dried drool on my face.”

“yeah, i know.”

it’s been nearly a year since you met james buchanan barnes and yet he still gets you to blush. he practically lights up at the sight of the color on your cheeks. “are you--”

“shut up and get in the shower,” you retort, pulling back the curtain and stepping into the steaming water.

“yes, ma’am.” you hear the shuffling of his clothes falling to the floor and then he is behind you, hands going up and down your arms. you let out a sigh and tilt your head back, peering up at him. water trails down his nose, dripping off and onto your forehead.

you don’t tell bucky, but you do worry. you worry every second that he’s gone on a mission. you know that you don’t have to say it, that he knows. and you trust that he will come home to you. bucky turns you and he holds your face in his hands and he presses his lips to yours and you know that he feels the same way.

i’ll always come back is spelled out in the way that he kissed you, the way that he holds the back of your head. we have forever is heaved from your lungs as he sucks the air from you.

when you part, you smile at his lips-- slightly swollen, pinker than normal. you rub your thumb along the bottom one and he catches your hand. he presses it on his chest, right where his heart hides beneath skin and bone. “you don’t have to do all of this to make up for what they did to you,” you say over the sound of water. “you’re allowed to have a normal life, if you want it.”

“i know.” he pushes a piece of wet hair from your face. “i just don’t--” he shakes his head and you know this all too well-- he doesn’t quite know what to say, he starts closing up and off and away, the high walls that guard his heart and mind beginning to take shape. “i feel like if i don’t… what was it all for?”

delicate hands move across his torso. you lather up a loofah and begin washing away blood and grime. “bucky,” you say and he looks at you, steely blue eyes staring right into yours. “you make people happy. you have people who love you, who care for you. you don’t owe the world reparations.”

he winces as you go over a particular bruise and you slow your movements, make them featherlight. “all i know is,” you begin. “whatever it is you want, whatever it is that fulfills your life… make sure it’s for you.”

a smile curls on his face and he stills your hands. “thank you.” he takes the loofah from you. “let me get you.”

“but i’m not done--”

“please. let me.”

you surrender and he begins to wash you, and your forehead falls to his shoulder, calm washing over your body. you could’ve been standing there for minutes or hours, you’re unsure. he pushes your hair back and at some point you realize that he is washing your hair, and you press gently open mouthed kisses against his chest and you hear his breath catch and you fall in love with him all over again.

“let me get yours--” you mumble around a yawn and you watch as he smirks down at you. “really, let me.”

bucky shakes his head and he turns the water off. “tomorrow,” he says.

you towel off and when you clamber into bed, you feel the weight of him beside you, your cat nestled between the both of you. you feel him pull you into him, his breath against your neck and his lips against your pulse point, and your eyes flutter shut. before sleep captures you, you murmur, “i love you, james bucky barnes.”

the feeling of his smile against your skin is imprinted on your heart, and his words coax you into sleep-- “i love you too, doll.”

bucky barnes sleeps through the night and doesn’t wake once.

[sweatersstyles]

prompt: harry wakes up early on starbucks cup release days and surprises you by buying all the ones he thinks you’ll like. he’s usually able to escape the paps but this time they catch him and he ends up having to explain it in his next interview and gets all shy and can’t stop blushing.

a/n: hello all!! first I want to apologize for my 4 month long writing absence. life just has not been kind to me lately and unfortunately zapped a lot of my creativity energy, but I’m happy to have something done now! hopefully I can continue and keep a more consistent schedule for the remainder of this year!

immense thank you’s are owed to my kind friends @tobesolonely and @meetmymouth for the encouragement to find my creative spark for writing again and for being amazing betas! and to @taintedwonder for the lovely idea! @theharriediaries​ was so sweet to beta for me as well!!

word count: 2.1k

writing tag | masterlist | tiktok inspo 

Harry was usually smarter than this. He had a schedule, a plan, a way to get in and out pretty quickly without being seen. 

But today, he’d lingered too long at the mugs, curious if you’d want one of those as well. Your go-to was iced coffee, even year round in the winter you would prefer something cold over anything warm. He was thinking though, of the nights you were stressed and wanted a cup of soothing tea before bed, or those slower mornings where you don’t have to rush and a mug of coffee fits nicely in your hand while he admires you from across the kitchen table.

By the time he’s decided that yes, you do need this mug with the pastel rainbow print to add to your collection, along with a few of the other cups he thinks you’ll adore and a fresh bag of your favorite flavor of coffee, there’s already a small crowd of people forming in the lobby of the coffee shop and he hopes that he can get through them without being recognized as usual; prays that it’s only the regulars filing in for an early morning fix of caffeine before they rush off to start their day.

The barista thankfully is quick, skillfully giving him his total before rushing off to make the drinks he ordered for the two of you as well. He sees the way her eyes keep darting to him though, knows after years of experience that she knows who he is and is trying to work up the courage to say something to him or ask for a photo. He almost considers offering, she’s been so nice not to draw any attention to him, maybe something discreet could be pulled off. 

In the end he chooses not to, not wanting to assume that’s why she keeps looking over at him. It could be that he still has the hood of his sweatshirt tucked over his beanie or the fact that he’s now walking out of the shop with a small handful of the brown shopping bags with the familiar green logo imprinted on the front.

He breathes a sigh of relief when he makes it back to his car without anyone stopping him. He’s so distracted by securing the bags in the backseat he fails to hear the small clicks of the camera not too far away.

There’s a small comfort in the quietness of your shared apartment when he returns. While he loves coming home to the sound of you dancing around the kitchen making breakfast, his favorite is getting to wake you up himself. There’s a sweet softness in the way the side of your face rests against your pillow, mouth parted slightly and a gentle snore vibrating through your chest. It never fails to make him smile. He cherished the way you inhale faintly, stretching your limbs before blinking a few times, adjusting to the new day you’re waking up to. If he was there, already awake, your eyes always found him before anything else.

This morning is no different, except for the confusion on your face when you find him sitting on the edge of the bed instead of snuggled next to you. 

“You’re up to something, I can tell.”  You’re propped up enough now to accept the coffee he’s holding out for you. You take a few small sips, sighing and letting your head fall back against the headboard as you savor the taste.

“M’that easy to read, huh?” He chuckles, his hand on your thigh now, warming your skin even through the blanket, “Well..would you like your surprise here or will you be joining me in the kitchen while I make you breakfast?”

“Oh I get a surprise and breakfast today? What’s the occasion? Little early for my birthday, H.” 

“Don’t need an occasion to spoil my girl, do I?”

“I guess not.” 

You shrug, trying not to let the guilt bubble up enough to where it flashes across your face. One of his loudest love languages had always been gift giving, a quality about him you thought was wonderful, but still had a hard time accepting. You had to be careful about mentioning things you may want around Harry, he would use any excuse to treat you.

He’s rambling off his reasoning already as he leads you into the kitchen and settles you in one of the tall chairs next to the counter. He always ends his explanation with “I know you told me not to, but…” followed up by what you’re sure to him sounds like a very logical justification for why you need/deserve whatever he was gifting you. There’s nothing out of the ordinary of your regular kitchen set up this morning though, so you do what you normally do when he announces a surprise for you; let him take the lead, not wanting to take away from his excitement. 

“So..surprise or breakfast first?” He stands on the other side of the counter now, his hoodie and beanie discarded, wearing a t-shirt you were sure you bought for yourself but he seems to have laid claim to.

“Breakfast, please. If you don’t mind.” 

“‘Course not. Any requests, baby?”

Your heart flutters for a moment, just as it does each time he uses that particular term of affection for you. He’s already opened the refrigerator, scanning over options for what he could make for the two of you. You recover long enough to tell him no, that whatever he wants to make would be fine, sitting back and enjoying the view as he cracks a few eggs into a bowl.

You don’t even notice that you’re staring until he turns and catches your eye, “What? Did I get a shell in the eggs or something?”

You giggle as he even picks up the clear bowl of eggs that he’s already scrambled and seasoned, even going so far as to swirl his finger through the liquid to double check before you can stop him.

“No, it’s just..I can’t get over the fact that you’re making breakfast for me while wearing my t-shirt.”

“S’it yours?” He glances down at it, “Thought it was mine, sorry..”

There’s a smirk on his face as he turns back to the stove, and you know just by seeing that he knows you don’t mind; you love seeing him in your clothes as much as he adores seeing you in his.  

It’s not long before he’s presenting you with a plate, sitting next to you with his own plate in front of him. When you don’t immediately dig in, he leans over to inspect the food, worried that maybe he’d overdone the eggs or your toast was slightly more brown than you liked. 

So when you say, “You’ve forgotten something very important, haven’t you?” he panics, thinking maybe he should’ve taken the time to include fruit to balance the meal. You take pity on him, not making him wait too long before you lean in and he instantly softens, realizing what you’re asking for. 

He meets you the rest of the way, lips soft against yours, the taste of the coffee you’ve both had lingering for a moment before he pulls away, “Very important. How could I ever have forgotten?”

When you’ve both finished eating, he downs the last of his coffee and stacks your now empty plates to take to the sink, pecking your forehead with another quick kiss, “Alright, close your eyes. Count to 20.”

You begin to count off in your head, and you hear his voice, a bit further away, “Out loud, angel.”

There’s a rustling of bags getting closer as you count, and you can even hear a few clinks as they come closer. You can feel him moving around you, positioning things perfectly for when you open your eyes. 

He’s still behind you when you finish counting, hands squeezing your shoulders to urge you to open your eyes. When you do, you immediately recognize the bags and know exactly what he’s done.

“Oh no. Absolutely not. This is too much, Harry. I let you spoil me with little things here and there, but I cannot accept this.”

Sitting in front of you are..you stop to count them now; 1, 2, 3, 4..6 bags from Starbucks. You know from experience that each one of them contains 2 cups or mugs. You’re sure at least one of them also includes your favorite roast of coffee. He had done this before around Christmas time, when you’d mentioned how adorable a few of the ones from the holiday collection had been, not thinking that he would go back later without you and buy all the ones you’d touched or admired.  

He ignores your refusal, “You can take back any you don’t like. Go on,” He peeks inside one of the bags closest to him and then pushes it closer to you, “Start with this one.”

“Harry, really..”

“Don’t think, just open. If you really won’t accept any of them then I’ll take ‘em back and buy you something from somewhere else.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” You try your best to look serious, but you can’t stop the smile from spreading across your face, “Thank you, H.”

You finally go through most of the bags, offering oohs and ahhs and even a few squeals of joy at certain ones. 

“I think I got all the ones you’d pick for yourself. Saw you eyeing one or two the other day and the others I just guessed.”

He had done very well in choosing for you, even going so far as to get the two of you a matching pair of the kind that changed colors with the temperature. 

“For our smoothies.” He explains when you give him a particularly soft look at the idea of matching with him. 

“Also got us a matching set of these,” He skips to the last bag, too eager to wait for you to open it yourself, revealing the mug he’d taken the extra time to select, “For our Sunday morning tea. Or if you change your mind and ever want a hot coffee.”

All you can do is repeat the same expression of gratitude as before you had opened them, “Thank you again, H. I love them all, really. No more though, alright? We’re running out of cabinet space. Did you go to our regular spot or a different one so you wouldn’t be recognized?” 

“Different one. Can’t believe I wasn’t spotted though. Must’ve been too early for the paps to be out and about.”

“Or maybe you aren’t as interesting as you think you are, babe. Harry Styles coming out of a Starbucks is old news now.” 

His eyebrows shoot up in mock surprise, “Oh is it now?”

“Mhmm. You’re just plain boring now, H.” You shrug, peeling at the price tag on the bottom of one of the cups, avoiding his gaze; knowing if you look at him you’ll break into a fit of laughter. 

He’s impossibly calm, just like he is before any interview he does. 

You sit across the room from where he’s currently getting his hair done. The stylist was nervous, understandably so, her hands unsure at first. It only takes a few moments of being near Harry; working his quiet, delicate magic of putting anyone he’s near at ease. By the time his hair is finished he’s pulled a few laughs from her and she leaves the room with a big beaming smile and a wave to the both of you.

Now that you’re alone again, he beckons you closer and tugs you down to sit in his lap, despite your protests of the possibility of wrinkling his incredibly expensive suit. 

“Don’t care,” He leans up to press a kiss to your neck, keeping his face tucked there in your warmth, “Just want you close for a moment.”

Normally you would run your fingers through his hair, but you don’t dare do that now, hand drifting to the side of his face instead, “Not nervous are you, H?”

He lets you gently push him back enough to see his face again, “Never. Just happy to have you here with me, that’s all.”   

It’s not until he’s in front of the audience, presented with the evidence of just a few days before, displayed on a screen for all to see. He had been caught, despite his confidence of getting away. He falters for only a beat, head down in hopes to hide the blush spreading high along his cheeks. He finds you in the crowd, sending a bright smile your way before he shrugs, turning his attention back to the host.

“What can I say? My sunshine likes her coffee.” 

//

tag list: @harrysblackcoat​, @summertime-pills​ 

thank you for reading!! as always likes, rbs, and feedback is welcome and appreciated!!

[favefandomimagines]

Why? (t.h.)

Summary: you and tom broke up at the young age of 21, after the success of Captain America: Civil War. now 3 years later, you run into him again with your three year old son

AN: more angst than fluff that’s for sure and here’s a twist: Evans!Reader (i’m also really bad a writing how toddlers sound so use your imagination)

When you imagined having a baby, you thought of the basic evolution of adulthood. Meet, marriage, then kids. Not meet, date for a year and a half, then baby. A baby who you were currently raising on your own. 

The breakup between you and Tom was the opposite of mutual. You didn’t want it. You wanted to be with him even before you got pregnant. But he wanted other things. 

He wanted other people. And that’s the part that broke your heart. 

“I don’t understand. You have never mentioned this before.” You said to him. “Y/N, it’s not you, okay? It’s just, we’re young. We’re 21 years old, our careers are just taking off. Don’t you want to be free?” Tom explained. 

“Free? You think I’m tying you down?” You questioned. “That’s not what I said.” Tom rebutted. “That’s exactly what you said! You think being in a relationship with me is tying you down. Well, fine Tom. If this is what you want, this is what you’ll get.” You snapped. 

You began to pack up everything you could fit in your small, weekender bag. “I’m going home and I never want to speak to you again.” You sneered. “No, Y/N, don’t do this. We can still be friends.” He told you. “No we can’t. Because I can’t be the friend who’s hopelessly in love with a guy who doesn’t love her back.” You said. 

“I do love you-” He started before you cut him off. “Don’t lie to make yourself feel better.” You sneered. You walked to the door of the hotel you were staying in and slammed it shut. 

You were a mess after the breakup. Physically ill is how you described it to people. You never left your room most days and when you did, you glued yourself to the couch. You lived off of Ben and Jerry’s and The Notebook.

Your friends tried to get you out of your apartment. But you didn’t feel like going out and facing the paparazzi. Especially when every time you stood up, you felt sick to your stomach. 

Even your older brother stayed with you most days. He didn’t want you to be alone. 

That’s when your friend suggested something. “When did you get your period?” She asked you. When she asked, you couldn’t remember when. You chalked it being late up to the stress you were feeling because of Tom and being cast in a new TV show. 

But, your friend bought you the test anyways. And it was positive. Your world was crumbling around you and now you had to fend for a baby. Tom told you he wasn’t going to leave you so you didn’t use a condom. And you couldn’t be on birth control because of underlying health issues you had. 

You were pregnant and you were going to have to raise a child by yourself. But your family was there through it all. Chris came to every doctor’s appointment with you, already earning the title of ‘world’s best uncle.’ 

You were about four months along when Kevin Feige called you about shooting an end credit scene for Spider-Man: Homecoming. How were you going to hide a baby bump from the cast and crew? But the only person you needed to keep it from was Tom. He didn’t want you so why should he be apart of the baby’s life? You would ask yourself that simply out of anger. There was no logical reasoning behind it. 

You shot the scene while pregnant and quickly left Atlanta before anyone began asking any questions. The main one being: who’s the dad? 

The night you gave birth, your entire family was at your side. Throughout the entire 20 hour labor before you welcomed a baby boy into the world. Theodore Evans-Holland was the newest member of the family. But Holland was only on the birth certificate. 

__

Three years had passed since you gave birth to Theo and when they said being a working mother was hard, they weren’t lying. Word spread that you got pregnant but the identity of the father unknown by the public. Including Tom. When asked about Theo in interviews you say it was a one night stand with a friend and that you weren’t together romantically. No one questioned a thing. 

On the set of Infinity War and Endgame, your mom brought Theo to visit often. He got to see his mom and his uncle Chris be superheroes.

“And cut! Let’s take a quick break! Y/N needs to go be a mom.” Anthony Russo joked. You smiled brightly at the three year old who was sitting on your makeup artist’s lap. 

You picked him and placed sloppy kisses all over his face, making the little boy laugh. “Are you having fun?” You asked him. “Yes!” He replied loudly. “Uncle Chwis!” Theo yelled, pointing to his uncle across the set. You couldn’t say no to him so you brought him to his uncle who was talking to Chris and Robert. 

Tom watched as you brought your child over to the three men. He didn’t know you moved on so quick. But he didn’t have a right to be mad. He broke up with you, not the other way around. Though a part of him couldn’t help but wish it was his son. 

You and Theo had decided to have a fun day since it was relatively nice in LA. You took him to the zoo and the aquarium before stopping at the Starbucks close to your house as a nice treat. 

Theo was a big fan of their frappucinos. 

You were holding him as he was beginning to get a little bit fussy after such a long day. 

“Y/N?” You heard from behind you. You turned around and saw Tom in the line behind you waiting for his name to be called. “Oh, uh, hi Tom.” You greeted him. “How are you?” He asked. “I’m fine. Just waiting on our order.” You answered. 

“Mommy, that’s spider-man.” Theo whispered to you. “Yes, baby, that is spider-man.” You spoke to him. “Hey little man.” Tom greeted the young boy. “You two have the cutest son. He looks just like his dad.” An older lady commented on the two of you. 

“No, he’s uh, not mine.” Tom quickly corrected her. The lady looked from you back to Tom before giving a pretty fake smile. “We, uh, we have to go. Theo needs a nap.” You said quickly, grabbing your drinks and making your way towards the exit. 

“Y/N, wait!” Tom called. You stopped a turned around to look at him. You and Tom looked at one another for a few moments before he looked at Theo. You could see he was doing the math in his head and analyzing Theo’s facial features. 

It was true though. He did look just like his dad. Same hair, same eyes, he had your nose though. 

“See you around, Tom.” You said breaking the silence before walking back towards your car. 

__

Later that evening, you were sitting on the couch with Theo watching Captain America. It was his favorite movie at the moment because he got to watch uncle Chris be a superhero. 

You were alerted by the sound of the doorbell and wondered who would be at your door at such an odd hour. “Stay here, buddy.” You told your son as you got up to answer the door. 

And when you did, you were very tempted to close it right in his face. Because Tom was standing on your doorstep looking completely distraught. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked. “He’s mine, isn’t he? Theo’s my son.” He said. You were quiet for a moment before you stepped out on to the porch so Theo wouldn’t hear. 

“Yes. Theo is your’s.” You answered quietly. “Why? Why didn’t you tell me?” Tom asked, the anger in his voice very evident. “Because, Tom, you didn’t want me anymore! A kid wasn’t going to change that! It would tie you down even more than I did.” You replied. “I had a right to know. I’m his father.” He said. 

You ran a hand through her hair as you squeezed your eyes shut trying to make the tears go away. 

“You didn’t want me, Tom. You didn’t want to be with me and a kid wasn’t going to magically fix that. Who’s to say you were going to want to be apart of his life if I told you? Like you said that night, we were 21, our careers taking off. I gave you the freedom you asked for.” You spoke. 

“I messed up, okay? I knew that the second I woke up the next morning and you weren’t there next to me. It was stupid of me to even think that. We could’ve been regular 21 year-olds together.” Tom said. “But at the time, you meant it.” You said. 

The silence that fell upon the two of you was awkward and uncomfortable. The only sound coming from the TV inside seeping through the cracked front door. 

“I need to know him. I know I hurt you and it was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made. But I need to know my son, Y/N.” Tom begged.��

You looked at the man in front of you and didn’t see who you were in a relationship with three years ago. Maybe because he’s had to grow up faster than the usual person. Or maybe because you had to grow up faster and raise a child. 

“You can meet him. But we need to take this very slow. Theo is my entire world and I will not have him end up heartbroken like I was.” You finally spoke. 

Tom’s eyes lit up at your words and he rapidly nodded his head. You slowly let him into the house, Theo entirely unaware that anything was happening. 

“Hey, bud. There’s someone I want you to meet.” You said to the small boy. You sat down next to him, him taking the liberty of crawling onto your lap. 

He stared at Tom warily, wondering why a stranger was in his house. He knew. that he was spider-man but to him spider-man was a stranger. 

“Theo, you know how I told you that daddy was an astronaut exploring space?” You questioned. Theo nodded his head looking up at you. “Well, he’s back from space now. Theo, I want you to meet your dad.” You told him. 

The brunette boy looked from you up to Tom. “My daddy’s spider-man?” Theo questioned. “Yes, your daddy is spider-man.” You confirmed. “That’s why he was in outer space! Helping Iron Man!” Theo shouted. “That’s right bud. I was gone for a while, but I’m here now.” Tom finally spoke. 

Theo left your lap and launched himself at Tom. You didn’t know you would feel so emotional when Theo finally met Tom as his father. You just thought it wouldn’t be until he was older so you weren’t prepared for it. 

“Are you staying, daddy?” Theo asked the man. Tom felt like all of the oxygen was knocked out of his body when Theo called him that. 

He looked over at you and you reluctantly nodded your head. “Yeah, buddy. I’m staying.” He answered. Theo jumped up and down on the couch before you scolded him. 

“Hey, hey, we don’t jump on couches anymore, remember? Besides, it’s past your bedtime.” You told him. “I wanna show daddy my room.” Theo. “He can put you to bed. Now go get your PJs.” You said. 

Theo got off the couch and ran down the hallway towards his room. “He’s going to want to show you all of his Marvel stuff but only for five minutes. After that, tuck him in with his Black Panther stuffie. Then you have to read him a story or he’ll never fall asleep.” You explained to Tom as you stood up. 

“You did a really good job with him.” Tom commented. “I know.” You smiled fondly. “I don’t have to stay if you don’t want me too.” He said. “You’ll sleep in the spare room. He wants you in his life so you have to be here. And tomorrow, we’ll go get Tessa.” You told him. 

Tom smiled at you as you retreated to the kitchen to pick up a bit before bed. Tom walked down the hallway towards Theo’s room and found him all tucked in bed with various pieces fo Marvel collectibles. 

“Daddy, daddy! Come look at the things mommy and Uncle Chwis got for me!” He said to Tom. Tom happily obliged and sat on the edge of the bed as Theo began to explain what everything was. 

You leaned against the doorframe and observed the two together for a short while. You had a lot of healing to do with Tom but you couldn’t deny the fact that Theo needed his dad, despite Tom’s past mistakes. 

[headoverheelsforramsey]

Ramsey Withdrawal Syndrome

Book : Open Heart (set after book 3)

Pairing : Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Meera Bose)

Summary : When Ethan leaves town three months after his wedding for a consult, Meera seems to be facing a bad day and a special ailment.

Category : Fluff

Warnings : A few cuss words I think

Rating : General

Word Count : 1558

Trope(s) : And one of them Left Town ; And one of them has an Illness/Injury

A/N : It's been quite sometime since I posted something, I hope everyone is doing well. I am participating for the first time in this week's @wackydrabbles prompt which will appear in bold. This is also my late entry for @choicesficwriterscreations flufftober Day 9 : Reunion after a long time apart. Hope y'all will like it! Happy Reading Guys! ♥️

Sienna walked into the darkened diagnostic office to find her best friend asleep on her chair. "You could pull all nighters at home too, you know?" she said, opening the blinds to let the sunlight in.

Meera squinted at the sudden intrusion of light in her otherwise dark den, "coffee? Did you bring my coffee?"

"There is a coffee machine right here, no I didn't bring you overpriced Starbucks," Sienna put the machine to work.

"You sound just like Ethan," Meera yawned.

"Your life has been a mess since he left."

"This sounds like something you had said when he ran off to the Amazons," Meera chuckled. "But this time I am not letting him go," she lifts up her left hand and wiggles her fingers to show off her wedding ring.

Sienna smiled, shaking her head. "Listen, we all know you work yourself to the bone when he is not around…"

"Oh that's simply just not true!"

"Really? Tell me when was the last time you had a proper eight hour sleep?"

Meera thought hard but the only answer she could come up with was a week ago, the night before Ethan left to consult on a case at UCSF. "You know so many sick, ailing people need me, I have just been busy."

"Nuh uh, you have made yourself busy," Meera rolled her eyes at Sienna's words. "Listen babe, it's just been three months of your wedding it's quite natural to miss him. But he is coming back today. You are going to meet him, everything’s gonna be okay."

Meera nodded, wrapping Sienna up in a hug.

"But on the other hand I solved Mr. Jones' case," Meera said triumphantly.

"You mean the transfer case from Massachusetts General?"

"Yep!"

As if on cue the automatic doors of the office open to reveal the other three members of the team. They stop midway looking around the office and at a very red eyed Meera sitting on her desk.

"Are you high or hungover?" Kevin asked moving forward to examine Meera's eyes.

"Just heavily sleep deprived," Sienna explained.

"Oh the Ramsey withdrawal syndrome."

"What the fuck? Did y'all seriously name it also?"

"Honestly it needed a name," Meera smacked Tobias' arm as everyone shared a laugh.

"Well enough of dillydallying, I have solved the Jones case, well it's a hunch, I do need a CT and an EKG to confirm it."

"Let me stop you there Meera," Harper interrupted. "Mr. Jones is not being transferred to us, Mass General figured out his case."

"What? When? Really?"

"Yes we received mails this morning."

"Did they atleast say what diagnosis they made?"

The three other doctors remained silent.

"Ugh! Now I have no idea whether I was correct!" Meera slammed her hand on the desk.

"Meera, listen, I have some friends at Mass General I'll get you the answer, okay?" Tobias calmed her down.

"Thank you," Meera sighed. "Now let's get to work, doctors please take your seats."

"I think you should take the day off," Harper put a hand on her shoulder.

"Why? I am fine."

"Yeah but you don't look fine. You should go home and get some sleep man," Kevin said.

"That's what I was trying to convince her," Sienna stepped in.

"No, wait, this is my office, my team and I hate to play this card but I am your boss and I say we work now," Meera protested.

"Fine, so what if we three collectively decide to take the day off?" Tobias crossed his hands over his shoulders.

"You wouldn't," Meera scoffed.

"Try us," Kevin said.

"Harper, you with them too?"

"Absolutely," she replied.

"Okay," Meera sighed.

"We all want the best for you, take today easy please?" Sienna said, putting her coffee mug on the table.

"I agreed to no DT work, but I will do paperwork and all my attending duties."

"Okay, but nothing too stressful," Kevin said.

"Trinh you'll keep an eye on her for the rest of us?" Harper asked.

"Absolutely, Dr. Emery."

The team members said their goodbyes and left the office.

"You don't have to babysit me, Si," Meera said standing up. "I'll go freshen up."

But as Meera tries to walk past her desk she trips and falls on the office floor with her shoulder bent at an unusual angle.

"What's up?" Jackie asks as she, Elijah and Raf come to stand beside Sienna who watches the orthopaedic resident pop Meera's shoulder back into its socket.

"Shoulder dislocation," Sienna informs.

"Tch, Ramsey withdrawal syndrome takes a victim," Elijah murmurs.

Bryce opens the patient room for the ortho resident to leave and all of them step in.

"Well, ideally I should tell these to your husband but for now, you will have to wear the sling for two weeks, take your medicines timely, you are not allowed to lift anything heavy for the next three months and yes you have to come for a follow up a month later."

"I work here, Bryce, you will see me everyday I don't think I can escape the follow up," Meera chuckled trying to lighten the mood.

"I am your doctor here Meera, and as your doctor I want you to go home and get some rest."

"Absolutely."

"Agreed."

"Definitely."

Elijah, Raf, Jackie replied respectively.

"Come on guys! I already dismissed the team for the day! I will delegate my patients too. I just want to stay and catch up on paperwork."

After a lot of bargain and argument Meera emerged victorious and made her way back to her office. "Today has been a shitty day but it will get better once you come back," she thought to herself looking at the phone gallery full of her husband's pictures.

But little did Meera know that this was just the beginning of a shitty day. She spilled coffee over her paperwork and had to do it again. There were problems with dosages of medicines and the pharmacy was not being very helpful and a lot more. There was a certain time when Meera was about to give up and go home when a page turned the day into a whole lot worse.

She answered her page and met Tobias on her way to the atrium.

"What happened to your arm?" he said, surprised.

"Dislocated shoulder, not a big deal. Tell me about Jones?"

"I know just as much as you do, wrong diagnosis, wrong medications, no response from the patient, he is still intubated, oxygen level at the lowest."

"I need names, names of medication, dosages, composition, everything."

"I'll see to it," Tobias parted ways with her.

"What is the ETA of the patient?" Meera asked Kevin when they met in the atrium.

"Five minutes," he looked at his watch. "Damn! What's with the sling, boss?"

"Dislocated shoulder, not important."

"Meera, I have prepped an OR just like you asked in case we need to operate on Jones," Harper stopped mid sentence, "wait, shoulder dislocation? Why didn't you page me?"

"It's nothing, Bryce and Miller from Ortho took care of it."

"And you still haven't gone home, have you?"

"Harper, I am really sorry, I should have gone home, should have paged you, but…,"

"You know I like how stubborn you are. I knew since the interrogation you and I are going to have a lot of fun," Harper grinned and Meera beamed as well.

"Guys Jones is here," Kevin informed.

Meera walked out of the observation deck and towards the nurses' station taking Mr. Jones' chart and filling it out.

"Here," Kevin passed her a Starbucks cup.

"Ughh, thank you, you don't know how much I needed this."

"So what now?"

"The surgery was a success, the clot is out, the seizures have stopped, his vitals should start to stabilize," Tobias counted the things off his fingers, approaching the nurses' station.

"So CT and EKG then?" Kevin suggested.

"Ofcourse, but also get full blood work. I don't want to miss out on any other effects of the wrong diagnosis."

"Copy that, captain" Kevin flashed his signature smile and disappeared.

"Tobias, I think the patient's family is in the waiting area, I need you to talk to them and explain the current situation, but please be gentle, I am sure they are absolutely furious right now."

"Sure, you take care okay?" he patted Meera's back and got to work.

Meera decided to take the chart back to her office, but as she turned around and took a couple of steps, eyes strained on the chart, she bumped straight into a man but was caught with familiar strong arms before she could make contact with the floor again. She inhaled the familiar cologne and looked into the sparkling blue eyes of her husband.

"Easy there Dr. Bose," he smiled.

"Ohh Ethan," the words came out of her mouth as signs of relief as she wrapped her uninjured arm around his waist and burried her face in his chest.

"Dislocated shoulder?! What on earth have you been upto these days, rookie?"

"That's nothing, just a tiny effect of the Ramsey Withdrawal Syndrome," Meera murmured.

"Ramsey… Withdrawal… what?" Ethan repeated, confused.

"I'll explain later, for now just hold me, I have had the shittiest day."

"As you want," Ethan wrapped his arms around his wife's body, careful to not hurt her injury and kisseed her forehead.

Thank you so much if you have read till here, it means the world to me. Hope to see you go on other different adventures with me, Ethan and Meera, till then sending love and hugs your way! ❤️

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed. 💜

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