#Hair Foam Rollers

[kimludcom]

SPECIFICATIONSstyle: Women'ssculpt: U shapeproduct name: No heat curling ironproduct content: Hair curler +2 curls +1 clipType: Bendy RollersSize: 88cmQuantity: 3Product category: headwearOrigin: Mainland ChinaNumber of Pieces: One UnitMaterial: FoamMaterial: 88cmItem Type: curly hairFunction 4: wave formers hairFuncti

[clnclm]

[selescope]

put my rollers in with absolutely no rhyme or reason. my hair might be. a mess tomorrow morning. we’ll see.

[imhereonthekitchenfloor]

I'm going to attempt to curl my hair in one of those tiktok heartless hair curlers except my hair is very thick and porous so it never drives when I attempt this

[swaggy-skeletons]

bro i just got some goodies and my hair is gonna look AMAZING

[dykeredhood]

I think I’ve finally figured out how to make my hair look presentable for when I wear my royal navy jacket etc./cosplay for exotic Dragoncon

[captain-grammar]

attempting an 'old school' heatless curl technique that i don't think i've done for about 10 years

[4theitgirls]

hot girl gift & christmas list ideas

beauty

hair gloss/hair oil

lanolips

fino hair mask

cosrx serum

rhode lip tint

- RECOMMENDED SHADES:

raspberry jelly

ribbon

cinnamon roll

philosophy 3-in-1

- RECOMMENDED SCENTS:

fresh cream

raspberry sorbet

pink frosted animal cracker

blush

gisou lip oil

rhode glazing milk

foundation

gel nail polishes/nail sets

victoria’s secret lip gloss

- RECOMMENDED FLAVORS:

candy baby

sugar high

strawberry fizz

kiwi blush

juicy melon

perfume/body care set

makeup brushes

gua sha/jade roller

cute skincare from the crème shop

false lashes/lash extensions

led face mask

electric toothbrush

under eye masks

laser hair removal/wax kit

heatless curl kit

pimple patches

body lotion

- RECOMMENDED SCENTS:

warm and cozy by victoria’s secret

the righteous butter by soap and glory

heavenly dream angel by victoria’s secret

body scrub

- RECOMMENDED BRANDS:

tree hut

victoria’s secret

bath and body works

fashion & clothing

cute pj set

workout sets

fuzzy socks

mary janes

uggs/fuzzy slippers

knee-high/thigh-high socks

basic tees/tanks/sweatshirts

health

cute water bottle

walking pad

resistance bands

eye mask for sleep

foam roller

liquid iv

light therapy lamp

hot water bottle/heating pad

hand sanitizer

yoga mat

wrist/ankle weights

miscellaneous

cute coloring book

books

palm stone

noise cancelling headphones

sofia coppola archive

throw blanket

chocolate

kindle

airpod case

phone case

speaker

candles

claw clips

perfume/body mist

- RECOMMENDED SCENTS:

warm and cozy by victoria’s secret

champagne toast by bath and body works

cupcake by body fantasies

autumn drive by bath and body works

champagne apple and honey by bath and body works

[prettyfastcars]

wreck my plans | gym trainer!lewis

Summary: Who wouldn’t have a crush on Lewis? He was perfect in every way possible. But he was also your trainer and some lines can’t be crossed… right? 

Themes: smut, explicit language, fluff, gym trainer!lewis

“You need help stretching?” 

Your whole body felt hot at the sound of his voice. And it had nothing to do with the full cardio session you had just had. You looked up and met Lewis’ eyes through the mirror, and gave him a shy smile as you nodded. 

God damn, you thought, who would pass up that opportunity in their right mind? 

Lewis was just that guy. He was always happy, always smiling, always willing to help anyone who walked through the doors of the gym he owned. He made the whole experience just so much better. 

You’d been coming to his gym for a little over a year now and ever since day one, he’s been such a positive influence on you. He was also drop dead gorgeous, and a real good reason why you always wanted to show up at the gym in cute hairstyles and cute outfits. He was such a motivation. 

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a tiny crush on him which grew every single time you met him. How could you not? He was so dreamy. Perfect face, perfect skin, perfect body. He was smart, kind, and sweet. He had nice hair, and fuck he always looked so good walking around. 

The first time you watched him lift weights you damn near passed out. He somehow looked extra good when he was sweaty. 

And right now, as he helped you stretch your limbs in front of the huge mirrors, your mind went straight to the gutter like it always did. Well, it is kind of an intimate thing to help someone stretch after a workout. Both of you were sweaty and hot, breathing kind of heavy, and he was so close. 

Each time he helped you stretch or cool down after a session, you always wondered if you were overthinking every little thing. Was he touching you more than necessary or was it normal for his hand to linger at your hips like that? Was he just being nice by moving your hair out of your face like that? Was it your imagination or was that really what you thought it was in his gym shorts basically glaring at you? 

No, stop. You’re being inappropriate! 

You shook your head and hissed and groaned through the stretching. 

“That hurts, huh?” He teased, playfully. Like he always does. 

You blew out a loud breath and said, “Yup, it’s always my hips and thighs that bother me.” 

He applied just the slightest bit of pressure as you were stretching your legs and you hissed out loud. Lewis chuckled, which made you glare at him through the mirror. Gods… he was such a beautiful man. Especially with his braids untied like this. 

“Sorry,” He mumbled, “You want the foam roller?” 

“No,” You were quick to say. “That thing is demonic.” 

Lewis laughed then playfully patted your thigh, completely oblivious to the way that made your heart skip a beat. “Okay then, I think we’re good. You’ll be a little sore tomorrow but hey, you did great today.” 

“Thanks.” You basked under the praise like it was the sun. 

“See you later then?” He asked. This had become like a little routine. After your workouts, you’d usually head for the showers while Lewis did a last check and closed for the night. And normally you two walked to the parking lot together where you said your goodbyes and drove off. 

“Yeah,” You gathered your things and said, “See you!” 

It was late, and as usual, you were the only person left. Which meant that you had the showers all to yourself.  

But things happened slightly differently tonight… 

You headed for the showers as usual, but there was this burning desire inside you which felt like it was trying to claw its way out. No matter how much you tried to push aside those wild thoughts you kept having about your trainer, they wouldn’t leave your head. 

And while you showered, hot water falling on your sore body, it was simply too easy to just give in and slide your hand in between your legs, imagining that it was his hand that touched you. It was so easy to imagine it was his tattooed fingers sliding inside you. 

You leaned against the cold tiles, the sound of the falling water concealing your gasps and moans as you came. Fuck. You needed this quick release after all that touching while he helped you stretch earlier. 

You calmed your breathing and racing heart before stepping under the water again, finishing your shower and wrapping a fluffy towel around you. Since there was no one else in the changing area, you figured you could dry off and get changed there. Like you always do. 

But the moment you stepped out of the shower, you heard a familiar voice saying, “You do this often? Masturbate while thinking of me?” 

You looked up, eyes widening as you spotted Lewis standing there with a cocky, dirty smirk on his face. Muscular arms crossed over his perfect torso while he leaned against the lockers. 

You screamed and ran back into the showers and locked the door, leaning against it while you breathed heavily, unable to process what the fuck just happened. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Can you die right now? Like right now??? 

You could hear Lewis laughing outside. Sounding as cocky and proud as any male would in this situation. 

“Oh my god.” You groaned out loud. This cannot be happening. This has to be one of those really embarrassing dreams. 

“Hey,” He knocked on the door you were leaning against. “Can we at least talk about it?” 

“No,” You whined. “Let me die and rot here in shame, please.” 

He laughed again. “Oh come on, let’s be grown ups about this. Nothing to be ashamed of. It’s okay.” He tried to sound as supportive as possible, but all he did was sound even more teasing. 

“Please, Lewis.” You groaned again. 

He sighed, then when he spoke up again you could almost hear that mischievous smirk on his pretty lips. “You know, I think it’s unfair that you touch yourself while thinking of me but won’t let me even see it.” 

You groaned out loud again. He laughed again, then knocked again. “Come on, babygirl. Open up.” 

“I can’t.” Your voice came out muffled because you had your face hopelessly hidden in your hands, unable to even face yourself. 

“You can’t hide in there forever.” He reasoned. “Your clothes and stuff are all out there. You’re gonna get cold.” 

Oh great. He probably even saw the ridiculous floral set of underwear you had pulled out of your gym bag earlier. 

“I’ll just die here, thanks.” 

He laughed again. “Look, just come out.” 

Come on. Be a big girl. Realistically, you had to face him anyway. 

“You won’t laugh?” You asked, even though he’d already done so. 

“No,” He said, sounding sincere. “I promise.” 

You opened the door sheepishly, and stepped out while keeping your eyes down and focusing on his shoes. You groaned once you faced him completely. “Look, Lewis, I’m–,” 

“Shh, it’s okay.” He cut you off, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you closer. “Look at me.” 

You kept your eyes on the tattoos around his collar bones that peeked out from under his tight tank top. 

“You weren’t so shy when you were moaning my name just now.” He pointed out, stepping closer and sounding cocky again. You wanted to die all over again. 

“Stop,” You whined, helpless and vulnerable in just your fluffy towel. 

He chuckled, then grabbed your chin and forced you to look into his huge, pretty, brown eyes. “Why didn’t you just ask me to help?” 

Your face felt hot again. “I– what?” 

He gave you a sly smirk. “You know, I would’ve helped if you’d asked me to. I’m pretty sure I would’ve done a much better job than your own fingers did.” 

Okay. Now you really wanted to die. 

You tried to pull away and hide your face again, but he didn’t let you. Instead, he leaned in a little more and waited to see if you’d protest or hesitate. But you didn’t. You remained so still, unable to think about anything else other than how you wanted him. All of him. 

Lewis chuckled before he leaned in for a kiss. Then it all happened so quickly, and with your eyes closed and completely lost in his kiss, you could barely keep track of what was happening as he pulled you closer, picked you up and slammed your back against the wall beside the door you’d just walked out of – all while kissing you hungrily, like he’d been wanting to do that his whole life. 

You couldn’t even form a proper thought as his tongue slipped into your mouth, making you moan into the kiss. Your hands cupped his face as he held you tightly against him. Your core pressed against his firm body as his mouth moved perfectly against yours, driving you crazy.

Your towel came undone in the process and soon, it fell to the ground and neither of you cared. 

He groaned into the kiss as you pressed your hot, wet, naked body against him. He smiled and spread your bare legs apart just a little so he could be closer to you. His hands held you up, securely against him like you weighed nothing. He had a very firm grip on your thigh, his other hand placed right under your ass – holding you up while he kissed you like there was no tomorrow.

His soft, pink lips left yours momentarily to kiss along your jaw, and down your neck, nibbling on your skin and making you moan out loud. “You wanna see what I would do if I was in there?” He asked. “Do you, baby?” 

You could only moan quietly as his hot mouth on your skin drove you insane. 

He pulled away from you for a moment, and stared into your eyes again. “Please tell me you want this too.” He looked you dead in the eyes. His pink lips were slightly swollen. 

You nodded, biting your lip mindlessly at the feral and passionate look in his eyes. He gently brought his hand up to your face, his thumb carefully pulled your lip back, making you release it.

“Let me do that. I’ve been wanting to.” He said. 

Fuck. 

He smirked and leaned in again to kiss you again, and bite your lower lip, tugging on it gently. “I want you,” he whispered against your open mouth, making you lightheaded.  

Feeling a rush of confidence, you reached out and touched him, running your hand down his chest, and sliding your hand into his gym shorts, while he slipped his hand in between your legs.

You were wet, he could tell as he ran his knuckles along your wet folds, smearing your arousal around in the process. He hissed, and chuckled right in your ear as you pulled his cock out and stroked it gently.

He slipped two fingers inside you and grunted in your ear as he felt your warm, wet walls instantly welcoming him in. He curled his fingers inside of you, hitting all the spots he knew you wanted him too.

“Lewis…” you whimpered and closed your eyes when he leaned down and nibbled on your skin around your collar bones. You rocked your hips against his hand involuntarily, and he chuckled as you moaned out loud while he touched you.

“See?” He taunted, “I told you my fingers would feel better than yours did.” 

You moaned again, but gasped in disbelief when he pulled his fingers away and kissed you again instead, holding you tightly against him. With your legs wrapped around his lean waist, his cock briefly brushed against your wet folds in the process and you moaned wantonly through the kiss. He did too. 

You felt him smirk into the kiss as he aligned his tip with your entrance. Then slowly, inch by inch, he pushed himself into you. Stretching you out as he went. His nails digging into your skin as he held you by your hips, and yours clawing at his shoulders as he filled you up nicely. 

You were both panting by the time he filled you up entirely. “Oh fuck…” You gasped. 

“Fuck, baby…” He breathed heavily, giving you a second or two to adjust to his size before he started rocking in and out of you. 

You felt all of him, each stroke making you lose your damn mind. 

“You’re so fucking tight…,” He whispered against your cheek, more so to himself, and it made your face feel all hot again. “I waited so fucking long for this, and fuck, you feel better than I imagined, baby.” 

He was perfect, and you were moaning against his cheek in no time. Occasionally wincing in pain because despite everything, your body was still sore from earlier. But fuck, everything felt good with him. The pleasure and the pain. 

“This is all you needed, huh?” He cooed into your ear, slowing down for just a minute. Just so he could fuck deeper into you, grabbing you at the curve of your ass, holding you against him, as he gradually sped up into you. He dipped his head into the crook of your neck, gently biting down on your shoulder as he let out a smug laugh, “All those times I helped you stretch after your workouts, or when I corrected your forms, I bet you were so turned on each time, huh?”  

You kept your eyes shut, even as he pulled away and you were certain he was looking at you. 

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke, “Tell me, babygirl. Is this what you do after each session with me? You hide in here and touch yourself while you whisper my name and pretend it’s me touching you, hmm?” 

“Please,” You begged, gasping for air. He felt too good. You were so full. And you just needed to come again. 

His mouth soon found yours and he nibbled on your bottom lip and you let out ragged breaths, your moans getting louder and louder each time his cock stroked your walls. 

“That’s it, get louder for me. There’s no one here but us, baby. No one can hear us.” 

You felt the pressure forming, fiery and pressing inside you. Lewis nibbled at the skin under your ear and you lost all control you had left. Your thoughts became cloudy and all you could focus on was his perfect body moving against you. 

“So fucking good…” he mumbled softly against your skin while he fucked you faster, occasionally growling at how good you felt around him. “Perfect little cunt for me.” 

Your throbbing clit rubbed against his pelvic bone each time he buried himself completely in you, and he soon quickened his pace – earning louder moans and mewls from you. 

“Maybe this can be part of our little routine, huh? Maybe this is the stretching you need after each workout.” He whispered in your ear as he pounded into you as fast as he could, your back slamming into the wall with each thrust. 

You could hear the wet sounds that he caused each time he pushed himself into you and the sounds of your skin slapping against each other was downright sinful. 

He moaned your name right into your ear and the sound sent shivers down your back. Your thighs burned, and your legs started to shake around him as he quickened his pace, pounding into you mercilessly. 

“Are you gonna come for me, babygirl? You’ll come like a good fucking girl for me, won’t you?”

You felt like you were losing your mind. The pleasure, the soreness, the pain, fuck, all of it was too much and you couldn’t hold back anymore. 

You came undone, screaming his name in the process. Walls clenching around him, nails scratching down his shoulders, neck, and back and a loud moan erupting from your mouth – he made you come like no one ever did before. 

His thrusts became irregular and he came right after you did, cock throbbing against your pulsating walls, growling when he felt your walls pulsating violently around him. 

He didn’t pull out immediately after the two of you came.

Your trembling arms held onto his shoulders still, and he gripped your waist, holding you carefully pressed against the wall and his muscular body. He took his time kissing you before he pulled away to look at you.

You realized your legs were numb as he pulled out of you and finally placed you back on your feet. He noticed you were still shaking so he held you firmly against him, wrapping his strong arms around your frame.

“You okay, babygirl?” He asked, kissing your forehead and just holding you. 

You placed your cheek against his chest and felt his heart racing, just like yours was. “Yeah.” You murmured. 

“We need to get cleaned up and get out of here.” Then he sighed and said, “You ruined my plans.” 

You frowned then pulled away to look at him. “What?” 

He gave you a one of his smirks and said, “Well the plan was to ask you out on a date first, and then fuck you. But you…” He trailed off, chuckling. “Anyway, can I take you out for dinner now?” 

You couldn’t help but smile at him, and nod.  

Well, then. 

[clnclm]

[freakingholland]

freakingholland's batboys headcanons part 1

A/N: Hi cuties! After posting some dc comics related imagines over the last couple of years I've decided to finally post a list of my own headcanons for batboys! Just a disclaimer - these are based on multiple dc related media (comics, shows, fan-made content) as well as just my imagination. I do not mean any harm with these! Also if you agree/disagree with these let me know in the comments/asks/rbs because I'm super intrested in what you guys think and your own fanons! Stay whelmed xx questions/ideas here! - rules here my AO3 archive is here If you enjoyed my work: Ko-fi.com/freakingholland masterlist

Dick Grayson (25-29ish yo)

Wears contacts all the time when he’s out. His sight used to be perfect up until puberty. Only wears prescription glasses when he knows he’ll spend the entire day wearing sunglasses – has prescription on them (he does have an emergency pair of regular glasses though).

Has a deep set of dimples. More visible when he’s a dehydrated raisin of a human being. He has a special bottle for just water to force himself to drink more.

Is left handed. His siblings bother him for that matter when he accidentally elbows somebody while eating.

Is “silently” addicted to energy drinks. Has tried to switch to other beverages but ultimately always goes back to energy drinks.

Sings in the shower, has a genuinely good singing voice. Pretends to be shy when people suggest doing karaoke.

Has chronic wrist pain due to a bad fracture.

Is a minimalist. Hates clutter and frequently gets rid of things like clothes, unnecessary gadgets, kitchen utensils etc.

Loves rock climbing and bouldering.

Has pockmarks on his cheeks. Had tried different products to make them fade away, but gave up and accepted his fate.

Uses a lot of post-it notes around his apartment.

Jason Todd (22-24ish yo)

Jason is the only one with brown eyes. You cannot convince me otherwise. Don’t try to.

He’s the best cook out of all the guys. Finds it very therapeutic. Genuinely enjoys making meals especially if others can stop by for dinner or pick up his food. (always makes me think of those pics of him and Dick in the kitchen in Gotham Knights!)

Has type 1 diabetes, uses a pump. (As mentioned here!)

Has a private library stamp for his book collection because any time someone visits him, somebody borrows (steals) books from him.

Plays the violin, self-taught as an adult. It’s his “safe” hobby that convinces his neighbours that he’s just a regular guy.

Has a full arm tattoo sleeve, it’s his way of dealing with body dysmorphia and body image issues. His tattoos include book references, fav movie characters and different symbols for all of the siblings (not their super hero stuff though, for safety reasons).

Has reading glasses. (As mentioned here!)

Hates arugula, loves Italian cuisine. He is not afraid of carbs (his glucose monitor states otherwise) and makes noodles often.

Has wavy hair but doesn’t use proper products for his texture.

Has veryyy straight teeth naturally. Others are jealous.

Tim Drake (20-21ish yo)

Journals. Even when he’s severely sleep deprived. It’s his way of dealing with heavy stuff, but also his archive in case he goes missing.

Has a nintendo switch. Doesn’t really use it but he knows that Damian steals it that’s why he keeps it instead of selling it.

Has a proper skin care routine. It includes dying his hair dark every 4 weeks cause he has gray hairs due to stress.

Uses ktape regularly. Struggles with chronic back pain and uses a foam roller.

Is vegan. Doesn’t try to convince other peeps to switch to veganism knowing that they are barely capable of making food for themselves. Will make an exception and eat meat if it’s a meal prepared by somebody close to him.

Is a huge music fan, listens to music often. Mostly metal, but also pop, rap. Doesn’t really discriminate music genres.

Loves playing board games. Is the type to bring board games to social meetings of sorts in case people want to play.

Has a very pleasant, contagious laugh. Rarely laughs out loud, but those who know his laugh try hard to make him laugh for that matter.

Has really sparse facial hair. Would like to grow out a stache or beard but cannot.

Blushes very easily. Doesn’t like it. Despises cold temperatures for that matter.

[alexaloraetheris]

When you have a dog with a bladder the size of a fucking peanut and no backyard, like me, when the dog starts whining and doing the 'gotta pee!' wiggles, you gotta take him on walkies no matter the state you're in. This has resulted in my neighbors seeing some very interesting sights over the ten years I've had him. So far they've seen me in:

Hairdresser's poncho with my hairdye still setting.

With my hair in those curly snake rollers

Those little foam bomb curlers

One half of my head curled, the other clipped out of the way

Generally, if there was a curler invented in the last 100 years, the neighbors had seen it on my head

My pjamas. All of them.

In a white tshirt, soaking wet

A bathrobe and a turban

Dressed like a beduin, often(I burn easily, and if I don't have time to put on sunscreen before having to dash, I just cover myself in loose airy clothes from head to toe)

Various halloween costumes, including the one with peeling zombie skin

Including too big fake vampire teeth I glued on with denture glue that turned out to be a bit too strong

With green hairspray that was so shoddy it dyed EVERYTHING green. Including my hair, the rest of me, my bathroom and my dog.

A funeral outfit. Twice.

Fancy opera outfit, which I finished barefoot with my heels in hand.

With geisha paint (was practicing for a friend's cosplay)

All kinds of slutty clubbing outfits

Covered in blood (had to pill our tomcat, who did not want to be pilled, and I didn't notice the scratches had started bleeding again until halfway through the walk)

Covered in very convincing fake bandages (I acted in an insurance commercial and had to look like I'd been attacked by a wild animal)

Probably more, but that's off the top of my head. Currently have American 40ies curlers in my hair and sent a pic to bestie, resulting in this convo:

And that, my friends, if how I've become the friendly neighborhood Tumblr influencer.

[lev1hei1chou]

Skincare Rituals

Gojo x reader Genre: floof Words: 505 Synopsis: Doing skincare with Gojo Masterlist

The soft glow of evening light filled the room as you and Satoru Gojo prepared for your nightly skincare routine. The two of you had developed a routine of winding down together. There was something so peaceful in the simple act of taking care of your skin. Tonight, however, you decided to make it a special occasion.

Gojo standing inside the restroom, waiting for you to join him. As you entered the room with a tray of skincare products, his eyes lit up with a glint.

"Ah, my favorite part of the day," Gojo grinned, his white hair falling softly over his eyes.

You chuckled, walking next to him. "Well, tonight's going to be even better. I got some new products we can try together."

Gojo raised an eyebrow curiously. "New products? You spoil me, babe."

The two of you began unpacking the tray, revealing an array of serums, masks, and creams. Gojo watched with curiosity as you explained each product and its benefits.

"Okay, first up is the cleansing oil," you said, pouring a small amount into your palm. "It'll help remove any impurities and makeup."

Gojo followed your lead, applying the oil to his face. The sensation was new to him, but he trusted you implicitly. As you both massaged the cleansing oil into your skin, you laughed at his adorable antics.

Next came the gentle cleanser, its sweet scent filling the room. Gojo watched as you worked the cleanser into a lather, and soon enough, both of you had faces covered in fluffy foam. The sight was enough to make you burst into laughter, and Gojo couldn't help but join in.

After rinsing off the cleanser, you moved on to a hydrating mask. The two of you sat side by side, the masks turning your faces into amusing expressions. Gojo grinned, his eyes sparkling.

"I never thought I'd see the day when the mighty sorcerer Gojo Satoru indulges in these printed skincare masks," he teased.

You pinched his cheek, "Well, you have to maintain that flawless skin of yours, don't you?"

After the mask worked its magic, you continued with the skincare routine, applying toner, serum, and moisturizer. Gojo watched you in awe, clearly appreciating the care you put into each step.

Finally, you handed him a jade roller. "This is the finishing touch, love. It helps with circulation and reduces puffiness."

Gojo rolled the jade over his face, relishing the cool sensation. You did the same, and for a moment, the room was filled with serene silence as you both enjoyed the simple pleasure of the skincare ritual.

As the night continued, you and Gojo snuggled up on the couch, content in the soft glow of the room and the lingering scent of the skincare products. Your skin felt refreshed, and the bond between you two grew stronger with each shared moment.

"Who knew skincare could be so enjoyable?" Gojo mused, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

You smiled, "Anything can be enjoyable if we do it together, love."

[cameronspecial]

Teach Me To Shave, Daddy

Pairing: Dad!Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.5K

Summary: Tristan shows interest in shaving.

Masterlist

Drew stands in front of the mirror with his razor in his hand. The shaving cream slides off as the blades cut through the tiny strands of hair. He places the head of the razor into the water to shake off the puffy white foam. He thinks nothing of the footsteps approaching the bathroom, thinking his wife is just coming to get something. Maybe she is getting the dirty laundry from the hamper. “What are you doing, Daddy?” a tiny voice calls out. The razor lowers from his face and he looks over to see Tristan. The boy’s shirt is slightly big and stained with red blotches from breakfast. His hair is brushed downwards by his mother. His eyes are wide with curiosity. Drew sets the shaving tool down on the counter, “I’m shaving, Tris.” “Why?” the inquisitive boy asks.

“It’s what daddies do to get rid of their beards.” 

“Can you teach me to shave, Daddy? Please.” 

Drew smiles at his son and nods. He picks up his son, placing him on the counter beside the sink. He holds up the can of shaving cream and a razor, “This is a razor. It has little knives at the top to cut the hair. This is shaving cream. It helps stop the small knives from cutting your skin. I’m going to put some cream on your face, but I’m not giving you a razor. I don’t want you to hurt yourself. Okay?” The young dirty blond nods. Drew looks around the room to see what they can use as a fake razor. His eyes land on Y/N’s jade roller and goes to get it. Once he hands it to his son, he squirts some foam into his hand and gives his son a little beard. He points to the little boy’s reflection in the mirror, causing Tristan to giggle at the sight. “I look like you now, Daddy!” he exclaims. Drew’s head bobs, “You do and a little like Santa.” The father turns toward the mirror again. He brings the razor back to his face, “Daddy is going to start at the top of the foam and slowly go down. Now, you try with your razor.” Drew watches as Tristan sets the roller on his face and rolls it down to his chin, bringing the white puff with it. “Like that Daddy?” Tristan seeks approval. “Yep and then you wash the razor off in the water and do it again,” he explains, demonstrating what he said. 

The boys repeat the task until all the bubbly substance is off their faces. Drew pats a little aftershave on the boy’s cheeks and chuckles at the look of satisfaction on his face. “Let’s go show, Mommy,” Drew suggests. He picks his son up and carries him to the living room where Y/N and Millie are watching TV. “Look, Mommy. I shaved,” Tristan cries for attention. “Wow, you look amazing. I have to say, your moustache was driving me crazy,” she jokes. Millie examines both their faces and untangles herself from he mother’s hold to run to her father. “I want to shave too!” she informs, reaching her arms up to be picked up. He takes her into his arms with her brother, “Of course, you can learn. To the bathroom.” He turns to head back to the bathroom with both of his children. A grin crosses his face when he hears his wife’s footsteps follow. “Don’t leave Mommy behind.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @victory-in-the-llama @starkowswife @drewsmusee

[itsgiovanna]

playing for love (chapter 4)

pairing: fem!character x mason mount

summary: injured and lost, mason mount begins his recovery with the help of adeline alderidge, a tough yet brilliant physiotherapist with secrets of her own. he becomes determined to break through the walls adeline has built around herself. but some wounds don’t heal easily, and the closer they get, the more mason realizes she might need saving just as much as he does.

notes: hellooo!!! here's another one, hope you love it. it's a heart-to-heart one, a lot of twists hehe, enjoy :)

word count: 4k

warnings: cursing and that's it.

next: chapter 5

Adeline had been to some impressive houses before — not because she ran in the same circles as footballers, but because some of her patients came from money. Old money, new money, football money— it didn’t really matter. What mattered was whether they had the discipline to do what she told them.

But Mason Mount’s house? That was something else.

The Uber slowed to a stop in Hale Barns, one of the wealthiest neighborhoods in Manchester. The place was quiet, clean, almost too perfect — wide roads lined with towering trees, iron gates guarding multi-million-pound homes that looked like they belonged in movies.

Mason’s house was no exception. Sleek and modern, all dark paneling and floor-to-ceiling windows, with a long driveway leading up to a Range Rover parked outside. Because, of course he had a Range Rover.

She exhaled, rolling her shoulders as she climbed out of the car, adjusting the strap of her bag.

Right. Let’s get this over with.

After buzzing the intercom, she waited, shifting her weight between her feet. A few moments later, she heard slow, deliberate steps from inside, followed by the sound of crutches against the floor. When the door finally opened, Mason looked exactly like she expected him to.

Grey hoodie, loose black shorts, socks pulled up to his calves. His brown hair was messy, like he had either just woken up or couldn’t be bothered to fix it. He had that same frustrated, slightly exhausted expression he always did, as if the whole world was just another thing he had to put up with.

She wasn’t sure what she expected from him outside the hospital, but there was something about seeing him in his own home, looking somewhat comfortable and — dare she say it — almost soft, that threw her off for a second.

Not that she had time to care about it.

“You could’ve warned me you were coming.” Mason muttered, shifting his weight on his crutches.

Adeline quirked a brow. “You could’ve read your schedule.”

It was the first time they were doing a physiotherapy session at his home, and she was fairly certain Mason hadn’t bothered to check her message.

He exhaled through his nose, clearly unimpressed, and stepped aside. She brushed past him, catching a smell of something — clean, masculine, expensive.

Not that she cared, though.

She took in the space — high ceilings, open-plan, sleek but not soulless furniture. It wasn’t one of those sterile footballer houses that looked like no one actually lived in them. There were small signs of life — a hoodie draped over a chair, a pair of trainers kicked off by the door.

“Not bad.” she murmured, nodding to herself.

“Glad you approve.” Mason scoffed.

She ignored him, already making her way toward the open space near the windows where she could set up. The room was huge, with polished wooden floors and enough space for a proper workout. And, of course, down the hall was a fully equipped home gym.

She pulled out her equipment — resistance bands, a balance board, a foam roller — feeling his gaze on her. When she glanced up, he was still standing by the door, watching her with an expression she couldn’t quite place.

“What?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“Nothing.” Mason blinked, his jaw tightening slightly before he looked away.

She raised a brow but didn’t push. He was acting strange for a second — but maybe she was just imagining it.

“Are you just gonna stand there, or are we actually doing this?” she asked, smirking slightly.

(...)

Mason had already been in a bad mood before he saw the video.

But after watching Rúben Dias talk about him like he was weak — like he had no one to blame but himself for his injury — it sent him into a quiet, seething rage.

"I play hard, but I play fair. Maybe he should’ve been more careful."

"These things happen. It’s not my fault if some players aren’t strong enough to handle it."

The words rang in his head over and over, like a hammer to his skull. He clenched his jaw, gripping his phone so tightly his fingers ached before finally tossing it onto the couch.

He felt stuck. Stuck in this house, stuck in this body that wasn’t cooperating, stuck watching his teammates play while he was here, doing pointless exercises that never felt like enough. And now he had to sit and listen to people talk about him like he was some kind of fragile, washed-up who should’ve done better.

His knee ached as he shifted, the reminder of his limitations only making him more bitter.

That was when he heard footsteps.

Adeline stepped back into the room, tucking her phone away. She looked more serious than before, but whatever had been on her mind disappeared the second she caught sight of him.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing.” Mason exhaled sharply through his nose.

Adeline gave him a pointed look, clearly unimpressed. “Right. Because you always look like you’re about to break something.”

Mason scoffed, rubbing his hands over his face. He wasn’t in the mood for this. For her.

When she moved toward the equipment, prepping for the next round of exercises, something in him just snapped.

“What’s the point?” His tone was sharp, cutting.

“The point is getting you back on the pitch.” She paused, glancing up.

“Right. Because you get what that’s like.” Mason let out a bitter laugh.

“I don’t have to be a footballer to know how to help you, Mason.” Adeline straightened, arms crossing.

“Oh, please.” he scoffed, shaking his head. “You act like you have all the answers, but you don’t know me. You don’t know what this is like.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but Mason wasn’t done. The anger was running his mouth before his brain could stop it.

“You don’t know what it’s like to lose everything. To have the thing you’ve built your whole life around ripped away. To feel like no matter what you do, it’s never going to be enough — like you’re never going to be enough.” His voice was raw, almost venomous. “You don’t know what that’s like, do you?”

The words hung in the air, sharp as a blade.

And then Mason saw it.

That tiny flicker of something in her expression, so quick that most people wouldn’t have caught it.

But he did.

She didn’t just look angry.

She looked hurt.

It lasted for only a second before she masked it, her face going cold, distant.

And then, she surprised him.

“You think you’re the only one who knows what loss feels like?” Her voice, when it came, was quiet but firm.

Mason swallowed, his anger still hot in his veins, but something about the way she was looking at him made his chest feel tight.

She took a step closer. “I know exactly what it’s like to have your world ripped apart. To be told you’ll never be enough. To have people who were supposed to stand by you turn their backs instead.”

Her words landed like punches. And Mason, for the first time in weeks, didn’t know what to say.

Adeline exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. She checked her phone, jaw tight.

“You know what? If you don’t want to do this, fine. But I have other patients who actually want to get better.”

She turned before he could react. “I’ll see you next session.”

And just like that, she was gone.

Mason sat there, staring after her, feeling like the biggest idiot alive.

(...)

Adeline slammed the front door shut with more force than needed. The sound echoed in the small flat, but she barely noticed. Her body was tense, her mind still replaying the scene from earlier — Mason’s sharp words, the way he looked at her like she was just another obstacle in his way.

She dropped her bag by the door, exhaling through her nose as she shrugged off her jacket. It wasn’t just anger simmering under her skin. It was disappointment. She had tried. She had pushed past his moods, his stubbornness, his refusal to accept help. And what did she get for it?

Nothing.

Not a single ounce of gratitude. Just frustration and bitterness thrown in her face.

The flat was quiet except for the sound of the TV from the living room. Stella was curled up on the couch, a bowl of popcorn resting on her lap. The moment she saw Adeline, her brows furrowed.

“That bad?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

Adeline scoffed, kicking off her shoes. “He’s impossible.”

Stella reached for the remote, turning the volume down. “Let me guess — grumpy, snappy, and absolutely convinced he doesn’t need your help?”

Adeline let out a humorless laugh, running a hand through her hair as she walked to the kitchen.

“That’s the understatement of the year.”

She grabbed a glass from the cupboard, filling it with water. “He doesn’t just shut people out, Ella. He pushes them away like it’s his life’s mission.”

“Sounds like someone else I know.” Stella sighed, setting her bowl aside.

“Don’t.” Adeline gave her a look.

“I’m just saying.” Stella stood, following her into the kitchen. “You two are more alike than you think.”

Adeline rolled her eyes. “I don’t go around snapping at people who are literally trying to help me.”

“No.” Stella admitted, leaning against the counter. “But you do push people away when you don’t want to let them in.”

Adeline clenched her jaw. She hated when Stella did that — when she saw through her, peeling back the layers Adeline didn’t even want to acknowledge.

Stella studied her for a moment. “He got to you, didn’t he?”

“He doesn’t know a damn thing about me.” Adeline scoffed, gripping the edge of the counter.

That was what stung the most. Mason had thrown those words at her like daggers, completely unaware that he had hit every single one of her old wounds.

"You don’t know what it’s like to feel like you’ll never be enough."

Adeline swallowed, blinking hard. She hated that it had affected her. She hated that for a split second, she had let it affect her.

“Maybe he’s not as much of an asshole as you think.” Stella’s voice softened.

“Did you not just hear everything I said?” Adeline gave her a flat look.

Stella smirked slightly. “I did. But I also know you, Ady. And if you really thought he wasn’t worth the effort, you wouldn’t be this upset.”

Adeline exhaled, tilting her head back against the cabinet. “He’s just... exhausting. He makes everything harder than it has to be.”

“Or maybe he’s scared. Maybe pushing people away is all he knows how to do.” Stella hummed.

“I don’t have the time to play therapist for a man who refuses to help himself.” She scoffed.

Stella watched her, something knowing in her expression. “You’re already helping him, though.”

Adeline said nothing.

Because, as much as she hated to admit it, Stella wasn’t wrong.

(...)

Saturday mornings were sacred.

No alarms, no rushed commutes, no work looming over her head — just an entire day with Lilith. A rare moment of peace in between the chaos of her job, one she wasn’t going to let anything ruin. Not even the frustration from the night before.

Adeline rolled to her side, eyes fluttering open as the early morning light filtered through her curtains. For a brief, blissful second, she allowed herself to sink into the quiet, the soft sound of birds outside and the gentle breathing of her daughter curled up beside her.

Lilith had crawled into bed with her at some point during the night, her tiny frame pressed against Adeline’s back. It was a habit she was trying to break — but truthfully, she didn’t mind it as much as she pretended to.

Carefully, she turned to face her, brushing a stray curl from her forehead. “Lils.” she murmured. “Time to wake up.”

Lilith groaned dramatically, burying her face into the pillow. “No."

Adeline chuckled. “You sound like me after a night shift.”

When she received no response, she resorted to a last-ditch effort — tickling her daughter’s side. Lilith let out a shriek, giggling as she wriggled away.

“Mummy, no fair!”

“All’s fair in love and waking up.” Adeline teased, pulling the covers back. “C’mon, I was thinking we could go out for breakfast.”

“Where?” Lilith perked up immediately, sitting up in bed.

Adeline stretched, stifling a yawn. “How about... Ezra & Gil?”

“The one with the big hot chocolates?” Lilith gasped, clapping her hands.

“That’s the one.” She smiled.

It was one of their favorite spots, a cozy little coffee shop in the Northern Quarter. A perfect place to unwind — and hopefully, to push last night’s incident out of her mind.

Lilith practically leaped out of bed after that, and soon enough, they were dressed and ready to go. Adeline opted for a simple but put-together look — black jeans, an oversized cream knit sweater, and her trusty Chelsea boots. Lilith, of course, had insisted on her favorite pink jumper, a tulle skirt, and sparkly trainers that lit up when she walked.

After bundling up in coats and scarves against the cold weather, they stepped out, hand in hand, heading towards a morning that Adeline desperately needed to be easy.

Ezra & Gil was comfortably busy when they arrived, the scent of fresh coffee and warm pastries wrapping around them like a hug.

Lilith practically bounced on her feet as she peeked into the glass display. “Mummy, look! They have the croissants!”

Adeline smiled, smoothing down her daughter’s curls. “Chocolate or almond?”

“Chocolate. And hot chocolate. Please?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Alright, alright.”

After placing their order, they found a small table near the window, away from the bustling crowd. Adeline let out a slow breath, forcing herself to relax.

Today was a good day.

Then she saw him.

Mason.

Sitting at a table near the other end of the café.

Her stomach dropped.

His hood was up, crutches resting against the chair beside him, hands curled around a coffee cup. He wasn’t alone — his sister — that Adeline saw a few times at the hospital — sat across from him, there was a little girl next to her, and she looked far too familiar.

No. No, no, no.

Before Adeline could react, Lilith’s entire face lit up.

“Mummy! It’s Summer!”

Her heart lurched.

Of all places.

Of all people.

She had not planned for this.

But Summer had already spotted them, and in the blink of an eye, everything unraveled.

(...)

Mason took another sip of his coffee, the warmth of it doing little to ease the tension coiling in his chest. He’d spent all of last night thinking about Adeline — about what happened between them, how he’d let his frustration get the best of him. He wasn’t proud of it. He knew it was wrong, but part of him couldn’t help it. He was so used to pushing people away, to keeping his walls high and impenetrable.

Yet, for some reason, Adeline had managed to sneak past those walls, and he hated it. She was good at what she did, too good at getting under his skin. And now, all he had was the guilt gnawing at him for snapping at her.

“Uncle Mason, when are you gonna show me how to kick the ball like you do?” Summer’s voice brought him back to the present.

Mason looked down at his niece, her face lit up with excitement. He smiled back, the knot in his stomach loosening slightly. Summer had always been the light in his life, her enthusiasm contagious.

“You’ll be the next footballer in the family. Don’t worry.” Mason replied with a chuckle, ruffling her hair.

Her laugh was a small, bright moment in the middle of his internal chaos, but even that couldn’t completely distract him from the situation with Adeline. The thought of her, the way she had walked out the day before, had been hanging over him since.

“Do you want to play football with me after this?” he asked Summer, trying to focus on her, on the joy she brought him.

“Yeah!” Summer’s eyes lit up. “I’ll kick it so far you won’t be able to catch it!” Mason grinned at her confidence, but his mind couldn’t help but wander back to Adeline.

Before he could get too lost in thought, a little voice interrupted his focus.

“Summer!”

Mason’s eyes darted up just in time to see his niece's attention snap toward the door. He followed her gaze, and there — standing just inside the coffee shop, holding a little girl’s hand — was Adeline.

His heart skipped a beat, though he quickly masked it with a neutral expression. He knew it was too much to hope that he wouldn’t run into her, not in a place this small. But what took him by surprise was the small girl beside her — the one who looked just like her.

“Is that...?” Jaz trailed off, eyes widening as she spotted the pair.

Mason nodded, but he wasn’t sure what to say next. Why was Adeline here? His stomach flipped at the thought of having to face her again.

Jaz’s eyes softened, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she stood up. “I think I’ve seen that little girl before… from day care, right? She’s in the same class as Summer.”

Mason’s thoughts faltered. Day care? He watched as Jaz walked over to Adeline, a warm, friendly greeting passing between them.

Adeline, who was clearly trying to keep her composure, smiled tightly at Jaz before her eyes flicked over to Mason. He saw the brief tension in her shoulders, the way her expression shifted for just a second — like she wasn’t sure how to handle this.

She kept her composure, nodding politely as Jaz continued chatting about work, making small talk to fill the silence. But Adeline could tell Jaz was giving her a knowing look, her eyes flicking from Adeline to Mason and back again. She didn't want to engage too much in a conversation about last night — not here, not now — but there was something in Jaz's tone that suggested she was trying to keep things light, to ease any tension.

The two girls were quietly chatting and playing, their heads bent over a board game that seemed to be taking all of their concentration. It was a rare moment when Lilith wasn’t bouncing off the walls, and Adeline couldn’t help but feel proud of her, even if just for a little while.

As the soft hum of the coffee shop buzzed around them, Adeline couldn’t help but feel the weight of Mason’s gaze on her, even though she tried her best to ignore it.

The way his eyes were fixed on her — there was something there.

Something more than just guilt.

She shifted uncomfortably, trying to focus on Jaz’s lighthearted stories about the kids, but her mind was stuck. She could still feel the sharpness of Mason's words from last night, the sting of them reverberating in her chest. It was hard to shake off.

“Adeline?” Jaz’s voice cut through her thoughts, her smile playful as she leaned over. “Is everything alright? You seem a little… preoccupied.”

Adeline blinked and then gave a small smile, masking the frustration she felt. “I’m fine. Just... thinking,” she muttered, glancing over at the girls.

Jaz raised an eyebrow, but says nothing, instead she gets up and walk toward the girls, who were in the midst of some kind of argument over the rules of their game.

Mason's mind was still on the conversation from last night — the way he’d snapped at Adeline. The way she had tried so hard to help, and he’d pushed her away.

That nagging feeling of guilt hadn’t left him since.

Something in him snapped as he watched Adeline's figure out of the corner of his eye. He couldn't sit here anymore, couldn't just stew in his self-loathing. With a deep breath, he stood up, moving toward her with more determination than he’d expected to feel. His stomach with a tight knot of nerves, but he had to say something. He owed her that much, even if it was awkward. Even if she didn’t want to hear it.

Adeline was just about to take a sip of her coffee when she saw him approach. Her expression faltered for a brief moment before she quickly masked it, but Mason could tell.

The tension was palpable.

She didn’t want this. She didn’t want him anywhere near her.

Mason stopped a few steps away from her, his mind scrambling for something to say that didn’t sound like an apology he didn’t know how to give.

His words fumbled in his head as he cleared his throat.

“I—I just wanted to…” he trailed off, feeling the weight of his own hesitation.

Adeline lifted an eyebrow, not meeting his eyes, but she waited for him to finish.

“Look. You don’t have to say anything.” she muttered, her voice low, careful, and yet, there was a hint of something raw underneath the calm exterior. “I know you’re angry at me, Mason. But I don’t have the energy to talk about it again.”

Her words hit him like a slap, and Mason felt a strange mix of frustration and guilt flood through him. She was right. He had no right to ask her to talk about it again — not after the way he’d treated her.

“I’m not… I’m not angry.” he said quickly, perhaps too quickly. His voice came out a little rougher than he intended. “I wasn’t angry last night, either. It was just—” He stopped, the words failing him again.

Adeline tilted her head slightly, meeting his eyes for the first time since he’d come over. Her expression softened, but only just.

“It’s fine, Mason. I get it.” she said, her voice distant, almost too composed for someone who was obviously holding something back. “I don’t know what happened last night, but we’re here now.”

Mason didn’t know what else to say. The air between them was thick with tension, but also something more — something unsaid. He could see the sadness in her eyes, and it made him feel like the world had shifted under him.

Suddenly, the sound of laughter broke the silence between them. Jaz had returned, laughing lightly as she scooped up Lilith and Summer, both of them grinning like troublemakers who had just gotten away with something.

They were all laughing together, a kind of warmth that made Adeline smile despite herself.

Mason watched her smile, and a sense of need, of wanting to make things right, surged through him. He didn’t know why it was so hard to talk to her, to just say what needed to be said.

“I don’t want to intrude.” Mason said, his voice softening now that the laughter filled the space around them. “But... she’s your daughter, right?” He gestured toward Lilith, who had just sat down with Summer at a nearby table.

Adeline’s eyes flicked to Lilith, and she stiffened slightly. “She is, yes.” she said, her tone guarded. “But I’m not really sure I’m ready to talk about that with you.” She glanced at him, her gaze almost apologetic.

Mason could feel the weight of her words, and it made something in him tighten, a strange mix of regret and hope in his chest. He nodded slowly, silently cursing himself for making her uncomfortable.

“I understand.” he muttered.

There was a long pause before Jaz returned, a mischievous smile on her face as she carried both girls in tow. “Alright, alright, what’s going on here?” she asked, glancing between Adeline and Mason. “Having a heart-to-heart without me?”

Adeline gave a forced smile. “Just catching up, Jaz.”

Mason let out a quiet laugh, but his thoughts were still consumed with the way Adeline had looked at him, the way she seemed to hold so much back.

He was going to have to work for it.

If she ever lets him in again.

(...)

[sandersstudies]

I use old-fashioned foam rollers to curl my hair several times a week, and if I need to go on an errand I usually cover my head simply because I think the rollers look kind of silly.

I don’t wear anything that resembles a hijab or a Catholic veil or any other religious covering I’m aware of — usually I’m using a regular handkerchief — and I’ve still had people ask me about it as if it’s a religious garment.