#I know how to be by myself I’ve been doing for 4 or 5 years for love the god

[cheekblush]

just got a text from the hr department that my boss wants to talk to me tomorrow 🙃

[bambi-worstinme]

NEVERMIND SHIT JUST GOT WORSE

ugh my roommates are going out and planning stuff and just heard over the phone outloud that I’m not INVITED or something idk. Her friend mentioned something me and said something “my name isn’t….” or whatever

yknow at least I know I’m just not part of the group or something at least I know but I just wish I could know what I did wrong

if I did idk idk idk, I wanna go out, I wanna do shit but maybe I’m just fucking wierd or boring or something intolerable.

I know it’s crybaby to say and stuff and I’ll make friends later but I wish I made it better

idk maybe make myself appear more for going out???

Ugh I can’t even drink fucking achohol cause of a heart condition I hate I hate this

trying to comfort myself that’ll be okay illl find ppl, change roommates, idk if I said something before implying I wouldn’t go out with them idk idk im too afraid to say

this is the best I can do right now just draw play nitw and relax

I’m used to this but I wish it wasn’t happening in the room I sleep i

I don’t want to cry or anything I want to meet ppl ect ect

idk I wish I was funnier I wish I wasn’t fat I wish was more pleasing I want to be self and just be okay but I doesn’t feel like I am

just taking deep breaths and knowing that’s it normal and shit idk

[fingertipsmp3]

Okay hear me out: should I buy a car

[landososcar]

lover ; LN4

pairing(s) ; lando norris x swiftie!reader

summary ; in which y/n just wants to post pictures of her boyfriend, not expecting people to get the wrong idea

warnings ; smau, lots of fluff

note ; its 3am and i didn’t want to sleep til i finished this so idk what mistakes there probably is lmao😭 also just pretend the twitter stuff says 2024 i cba changing it all

instagram ; yourusername

liked by nando4lorris, carlossainz55 and others

yourusername i saw the dimples first and then i heard the accent 💓☺️

view all comments

user1 who are you

carlossainz55 you tagged the wrong account silly

yourusername you replied with the wrong account moron

nando4lorris you two aren’t slick

yourusename yeah ok mr nando lorris

nando4lorris you’re supposed to be on my side wtf

user2 i’m so lost 😭😭

user3 i’m confused someone explain

user4 babe everyone’s confused

user5 wait so is this carlos’ gf or not

user6 idk who you are but you’re hot as fuck

user7 ok i swear i’ve seen carlos wear that top in the 4th pic before

user8 yeah i think i’ve seen lando wearing it too tho

user9 but lando isn’t in this girls likes and comments

nando4lorris yeah guys you’re right she’s gotta be carlos’ girlfriend

yourusername nando4lorris fuck off i hate you so much 😭😭😭😭😭

user10 ????????

instagram ; yourusername

liked by landonorris, nando4lorris and others

yourusername i’d like to hang out with you for my whole life 🤗🧡

view all comments

user1 crying because lando liked on his main AND his burner (confirmed)

yourusername p.s. the tag in these pics is for PHOTO CREDS 😁

user2 LMFAOOO HER COMMENT

user3 girl said my mans is NOT carlos sainz jr🙅‍♀️

user4 i have so much to say

user5 the taylor love lyrics, the orange heart emoji, the flowers, the ladybugs, THE CAT CARDIGAN

user6 i think i would die for her

nando4lorris 🧡🧡

yourusername 🥰

carlossainz55 i thought you guys were still trying to be sneaky

yourusername carlos you’re the one making it hard to be sneaky

user7 oh it’s so lando

carlossainz55 oh well it’s been 4 years everyone already knew

user8 ITS BEEN WHAT JEHFKSKKS ????????

instagram ; landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and others

landonorris i’ve loved you (five) summers now honey but i want them all 😁😁

view all comments

user1 oh my god

user2 FIVEEEEE SUMMERS????? EVEN MORE THAN CARLOS SAID !/?;&2!@:9(

carlossainz55 i’m sorry i just guessed how many years because i didn’t know exactly just that its been a long long time

yourusername it’s ok carlos you were close

user3 SHES BEEN TO RACES AND NO ONES EVER SAID ANYTHING ABOUT HER OH MY GOD

maxverstappen1 finally mate

oscarpiastri wooo secrets out 🥳

user4 he used a taylor lyric for the caption im gonna be sick

user5 if you zoom in on the second pic you can actually see me drowning myself in the background

ciscanorris1 💓💓

yourusername love you🥰

user6 wait i don’t have twitter can someone explain

user7 oh BABE you’ve got some catching up to do

yourusername my fav boy love you to saturn ☺️🧡

landonorris i love you more than you love taylor swift🥰

yourusername ok settle down babe don’t go too far

landonorris no sorry you’re right

user8 when he understands that ones love for taylor is never beaten >>>>>

user9 i need them biblically

user10 i still don’t understand how they hid her for 5 years lmfaoooo

user11 yourusername ok y/n but did he take you to the eras tour

yourusername he got us tickets for a uk show later this year 🥰🥰

user12 now, how’d that curly haired vroom vroom bitch pull HER

liked by landonorris!

my other works !

[thesiltverses]

A very big thank you

I posted this on Patreon, but really wanted to share it here as well:

Post-show life begins

For a long while now I’ve been getting up at 4.30 or 5am, grabbing myself the first coffee of four, and then coming to sit at my desk.

I open up the assembly cut of the newest TSV episode.

I listen to it, I try and pin down which scenes I need to be going back over today. I try and push through the entire morning without a break because when the momentum stalls, that’s what kills your release schedule. (I also worry endlessly about just how much of my hair is falling out, and how spending 12 hours a day wearing headphones could be contributing to that.)

Today was different. I still woke up early - it’s a hard habit to shake off, and probably a useful one going forward. But I didn’t go to my desk, and I didn’t put my headphones on.

I went to the rocking chair we bought for our son when he comes, and I sat there - gently swaying and trying not to spill my coffee all over it, because for some reason it’s fucking beige - and looked out over the city skyline. 

I slugged back my coffee surrounded by all the stuff we’ve panic-bought for the baby, and I got to take all of it in - washcloths and the changing table and romper suits - with a sudden focus and a clarity and a rising excitement that I really hadn’t allowed myself to feel until today, because until today the work was still unfinished and there was still much left to be done.

All at once I felt very free, and fully sated, and happy and proud for everything that’s coming next.

There’s so much to feel grateful for from the past three years of working on this show. But what’s probably going to sit with me the most is being able to arrive at that moment and those feelings today, - and we have all of you incredible people to thank for that.

Not just in terms of listenership or financial support, although that’s been truly invaluable and a lifeline for us that’s enabled us to actually make the show - but also your enthusiasm, your passion, your jokes and comments and everything that’s helped to keep us motivated and working on it.

So - with as much feeling as words can convey, thank you so, so much for everything.

What’s coming next, in rough order

#1: Parentdom is going to take over our lives for a while! I also want to write the final Patreon episode commentaries in the next few days, while I have the time and the clear memories. #2: The next thing we’ll organise will be the post-season Q&A (we’d also like to do some kind of off-camera cast party if we can make schedules work, just to say thank you to our amazing VAs and celebrate with them). Please do ask us questions! #3: We have long-unfinished commitments to the Patreon which I need to complete: the last two episodes of So Long, Good Luck, and rounding off Sid Wright’s story. As ever, huge thank-yous for your patience with these; they’ve just been impossible to polish off while also working on the main show so much. #4: Something I’ve been thinking about for a long time is the possibility of going back to Season 1 and redesigning it from scratch to try and bring it closer in style to S2 and S3. We have the raw audio files - some of the mic quality will just be rough no matter what, but we can certainly try.  This is something I want to be conscientious and careful about; I very much want to respect the sound design work that’s already taken place, and ensure we’re not overriding anything. But I do know that the initial quality still sometimes puts new listeners off; we were learning a lot about direction and mastering from scratch, and our designers were working with limited budget and a total lack of plugins, so there’s simply a lot more we can achieve now. (This would also be a good opportunity for me to finally rework the transcripts, another fallen hurdle). #5: A few months back, we were contacted by a literary agent in NYC who was interested in us adapting the show into a series of novels. There’s a long road ahead to actually get published, but I'm thrilled to say that I have signed with them and I’m really excited to hopefully start work on the first book once I’ve settled into dad-dom. I’ll need to check what’s possible, but if it doesn’t interfere with any contract condition I’d obviously love to share excerpts on here as it’s written. #6: Then there’ll also be another larger audiodrama project - we’ve spoken about the different possibilities before! Excited to get started on our final choice.

Just one last word about endings

God, endings are scary. Because endings are impossible.

How many serialised stories actually end in a way that’s received unequivocally well?  People yelled at The Sopranos for its ambiguity and open-endedness. People criticised Breaking Bad for treating Walt too sympathetically at the end and relying on a generic mob of snarling Nazis to act as his final foe.

Endings are either too pat and neat, or too inconclusive to be satisfying, or too surreal and dreamlike, or they simply make what feels like the wrong choices for the characters we care about. We’re all caught in that barbed wire, creators and audience alike, weighed down by the baggage of what’s come before and we've already spent so much time anticipating the infinite possibilities of how it could all turn out - it’s like we can’t get free of the story that’s trying to end. 

And the beautiful thing about these longform, iterative works is that they insist upon becoming completely ungovernable. No matter how much of a planner the creator claims to be, how much prepwork they carry out - they were never really in control. There’s spontaneity and surprises and dead ends and beautiful distractions that come spilling out along the way (I was baffled and delighted to learn that people really - at the end of the show, with such limited time to spare - wanted to find out what had happened to Eddie*). 

So they can’t end. Not really. There’s too much wonderful mess in them to ever be reasonably disentangled.

And, of course, for every ending people remember with frustration or dissatisfaction, there’s another hundred endings that nobody remembers at all, because we lost our enthusiasm along the way and it feels better to keep going back to the start and avoiding the slow decline. (Who the fuck remembers how the umpteenth X-Files reboot ended? What increasingly tired post-modern antics was Alan Moore getting up to in the final League of Extraordinary Gentlemen books?). I really just didn’t want the show to end up in that latter category.

All of that probably sounds like I’m warding off criticism about the show's ending, but for me it’s actually been the opposite. 

For an ending which is all about narrative dissatisfaction, and failed potential and missed opportunities, and how we need to come to terms with the lack of existential fairness and certainty and narrative control in our lives and keep ploughing forward all the same for as long as we possibly can, I’m massively stunned at just how positive the reception has been on here and elsewhere, and that’s something I’m actively having to process, because I think I was fearfully anticipating much more pushback.

But, look - the Eskew finale was originally quite poorly-received and then people came back around to it over time. So I’m not going to pat myself on the back too hard, because maybe it’ll ultimately be the opposite with this show, and that’s OK. For 200 years everyone was convinced King Lear was improved by having everyone survive at the end and get married. Endings take time to settle into their final condition.

For now, I am incredibly relieved that the ending we chose seems to have landed for most people, and I’m incredibly grateful for the lovely messages we’ve got about it and for the trust in us that you’ve all shown throughout the story.

So, yeah, let’s end with another thank you, because that’s what I feel so deeply and so forcefully at this point.

Thank you so much again, and speak soon.

Jon

*My take? We’ve established that the guy is in some kind of blue-collar job and has been pushed into constant overtime due to the reduced workforce. We’ve seen that the so-called ‘national holiday’ doesn’t actually rescue workers from their commitments. So I personally imagine that Eddie was working during the parade somewhere on the city outskirts, and is alive and well.

[csuitebitches]

Things I Have to do for My Sanity

1. Wake up at the first alarm - no snoozing and no going lying around in bed. Getting up straight away and head to the bathroom. It’s going to suck initially but you’ll get used to it in a few days.

2. Mental self care: 30 minute meditation, brain games mental math, reading, news. Knowledge is sexy and don’t deny yourself sexiness.

3. Daily review in my diary at the beginning and end of my day: what went well, what didn’t, what I need to accomplish to achieve my goals. This has tremendously helped my goals and keeping my motivation more consistent, especially at work. Analysing and correcting incremental changes creates long term success.

4. Cleaning up before bed - clothes, shoes, organising my bag, etc. I set a timer for 5 minutes and try to get as much done as possible.

5. Pick out my clothes the night before and steam iron them for the next day.

6. Face masks twice a week, a hair mask once a week, I scrub the soles of my feet with that foot scrubbing thingy once a week. Manicures every month because my nail beds are too sensitive to do it biweekly, iron supplements so that I’m not a moody bitch. Matching underwear to feel good about myself. Lavender spray on my pillow before sleeping so that I don’t get weird dreams.

7. Reading biographies and autobiographies. My mentor had suggested this to me and it’s amazing how literally I don’t have a single original experience - everything I’ve felt or mistakes I’ve made have already been done by someone else.

I’m going to curate a list of business books that I feel that have helped me the most recently.

8. I write a short essay everyday in the language I’m currently learning. I also end my day by talking about my day for at least 2 minutes in that language and I record it in voice memos to keep a track of my progress. I want to be fluent to a level where I can think in this language.

✨

I don’t generally share a lot about my personal life - none of you know my name or where I’m based and I feel comfortable doing that. But I do want to start giving out more insights to what I’m doing personally in my career - the good, the bad, the ugly.

Being self aware and honest to myself has helped me improve a lot. I know that shame is my Achilles heel, so now I’m reading books to combat that. I’ve caved in and decided to try therapy for a bit to see if what I’m doing is useful or not. My first session is tomorrow. Staying disciplined was my initial hurdle but the systems I’ve set (waking up early + habit stacking) have helped me slowly overcome that.

Work side, I’ve started establishing myself publicly more. I don’t want to reveal too much about what I do exactly but the good news is that our biggest competitor has noticed my progress (a former employee of that company came to us for an interview and directly asked our top management about me). It’s been 4 months that I’ve been working here but I know that next year I really have to swing the bat and hit a home run. I’ve decided to work on the field more and less in the office to really understand people’s needs and create unique solutions.

The daily/weekly/quarterly diary is definitely credited to my recent wins. That’s the biggest change I’ve made in my routine and i can already see that it’s working well. I’m going to continue refining and implementing that method.

Recent work methods I’ve decided to start working on (I’m not required to do these but I do it for my growth):

1. I’ve started studying popular companies’ business and revenue models in detail. Everything is adoptable and adaptable, you just have to figure out how to tweak something for your company’s clients and needs. Now I’ve decided that I want to keep a track of our competitors, their business models, their owners names, pricing strategy, their target audience etc etc on an excel sheet so that I’m aware with what’s happening in the market. 

2. I’ve started making client profiles. Every time I meet a client, I note down their name, the company name, what they were like, anything specific they seemed to like or want, how much they had paid us for a service, what their paying capacity could be, etc. 

[inkspiredwriting]

Seven Years Lost

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

A/N: This was a request. I really hope it's not that bad. To the lovely person who sent me this request, please contact me and tell me what you think about it, even if you don't like it, then I really want to know what you don't like. So that I can do better next time

Warnings: spoilers for season 4 episode 5-6, angst

Y/n sat on the worn-out couch in Diego’s living room, the sound of muted conversation from the kitchen drifting through the house. The weight of her growing belly reminded her that she wasn’t alone, that there was a small life depending on her now, a life she had been overjoyed to create with Five. But that joy had turned to a hollow ache since she had discovered the truth.

She absently ran her hand over her stomach, trying to find comfort in the small kicks and flutters that had once brought her so much happiness. The baby was all she had left to cling to now.

Diego had been the one to tell her, his voice low and hesitant as he explained what Five had confessed to him. Seven years. Seven years in a different timeline, trapped with Lila. Seven years that had only been hours in their timeline. And in those years, Five had been unfaithful. It was a betrayal Y/n couldn’t understand, a wound that cut deeper than any she had ever known.

“Y/n,” Diego’s voice broke through her thoughts, and she looked up to see him standing in the doorway, concern etched across his face. “You don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to. We can go somewhere else.”

She shook her head, forcing a small, tight-lipped smile. “It’s fine, Diego. I just… I need some time to think.”

He nodded, understanding, but didn’t push further. “I’m here if you need me,” he said softly before retreating back into the kitchen, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

Y/n closed her eyes, trying to make sense of everything that had happened. She had been so happy, so content in the life she and Five had built together. She had believed in their love, in their future. But now, all of that seemed like a cruel joke.

How could he have done this? How could he have betrayed her, betrayed their love, even if it had been in another timeline, in another life? And yet, as much as she wanted to hate him, to push him away, she couldn’t ignore the part of her that still loved him, that still wanted to believe in the man she had married.

But the reality was inescapable. She had to protect herself, and more importantly, she had to protect their child.

Just as she was about to get up and leave, the door to the living room creaked open, and she looked up to see Five standing there. His face was drawn, pale, with dark circles under his eyes—a man broken by his own actions.

“Y/n,” he said quietly, his voice trembling with regret.

She stiffened, her heart constricting as she met his gaze. “What do you want, Five?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady, though it trembled slightly with the weight of her emotions.

He took a tentative step forward, clutching a leather-bound book tightly in his hands. “I’m so sorry, y/n,” he began, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t begin to tell you how much I regret what happened. I know I’ve hurt you in a way that might never heal, but I need you to know that I never stopped loving you. Not for a second.”

Y/n looked away, unable to bear the intensity of his gaze. “You say that, but how am I supposed to believe you? You were with her for seven years, Five. Seven years, while I was here, pregnant and thinking about our future.”

“I know,” he whispered, pain evident in his voice. “I know, and I hate myself for it. But right now, we don’t have time. The cleanse… it’s unraveling everything, y/n. And you… you’re the only one who can survive this.”

She looked back at him, her brow furrowing in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

He held out the book, his hands trembling slightly. “This is the key to the train,” he explained, his voice thick with desperation. “It contains all the paths to different timelines—places where you can be safe, where you and our child can live a normal, happy life. You didn’t take the Marigold, y/n. You don’t have to die like the rest of us. You can survive this.”

Y/n stared at the book in his hands, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew about the train, a mysterious force that could take you to alternate timelines, but she had never imagined she would need to use it.

“And what about you?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Five’s expression crumpled, and he looked away, unable to meet her eyes. “I can’t go with you,” he admitted, his voice cracking. “If I leave, it’ll only make things worse. But you… you and our child… you deserve a chance at a life, y/n. A life without this madness.”

Tears welled up in her eyes as she realized what he was asking of her. He was asking her to leave him, to walk away from everything they had built together, everything they had fought for. But more than that, he was asking her to survive, to protect the life growing inside her.

“Five…” she choked out, her voice trembling with emotion. “I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know if I can leave you.”

He stepped closer, gently taking her hand and pressing the book into her palm. “You have to,” he said softly, his eyes pleading with her. “This is my last chance to do right by you, to protect you and our child. Please, y/n. Let me save you.”

She looked down at the book in her hands, feeling the weight of the choice before her. It felt impossible—leaving the man she loved, the father of her child, to face whatever fate awaited him. But she also knew that Five was right. She had to survive, for their child’s sake.

Finally, she nodded, tears streaming down her face. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I’ll do it. I’ll take the train.”

Relief washed over Five’s face, but it was tinged with sorrow. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “Thank you, y/n.”

He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as if he could somehow imprint the memory of her onto his very soul. She clung to him, sobbing into his shoulder, knowing that this might be the last time she would ever hold him, the last time she would ever feel his arms around her.

After what felt like an eternity, Five gently pulled back, his eyes red and swollen. “We need to go,” he said quietly. “The train won’t wait forever.”

They left Diego’s house together, and blinked to the subway station. It was quiet, only the shallow breathing of Five could be heard, but y/n barely noticed. All she could focus on was the man beside her, the man she loved despite everything, the man she was about to lose.

When they reached the station, Five led her to the hidden platform where the train was waiting. It was a strange, thing, its doors open and waiting.

“This is it,” Five said quietly, his voice trembling. “This is your way out.”

Y/n turned to him, her heart breaking as she looked into his eyes one last time. “I love you,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “No matter what happened, I want you to know that I love you, Five. I always will.”

Five’s eyes filled with tears, and he cupped her face in his hands, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. “I love you too,” he whispered against her lips, his voice breaking. “And I’m so sorry, y/n. I’m so sorry for everything.”

She kissed him back, pouring all of her love, all of her heartbreak, into that one final kiss. Then, with a shaky breath, she pulled away, clutching the book to her chest as she stepped toward the train.

Five watched her go, his heart shattering with every step she took. But he knew this was the only way, the only chance they had to save their child, to give y/n the life she deserved.

As the doors of the train closed behind her, Five’s knees buckled, and he sank to the ground, sobbing as he watched the train disappear into the ether, taking the woman he loved more than anything away from him forever.

He had done what he had to do, but the pain of losing her was more than he could bear. He had saved her, but it felt like he had lost everything in the process.

And as the world around him continued to crumble, Five knew that he would carry the weight of his betrayal, his mistakes, for the rest of his days—however long or short they might be.

But he would take comfort in the knowledge that y/n and their child were safe, that they had a chance at the life he could never give them.

Even if it meant he had to face the end without her.

[snowysosturn]

Speeding Car - Matt Sturniolo Part 23

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29

Pairing : y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary : After six years with your boyfriend Alex, you start to mentally check out. At a UCLA party, Alex reconnects with his childhood friend Emily, who proposes a double date with her boyfriend Matt. Your attraction to Matt grows as he pays you the first real attention you've had in years, sparking a complicated emotional journey.

Warnings : MDNI, angst, tension, anxiety, mentions of car accident/reader in accident, aftermath of accident, trauma as a result of accident, memory loss, mentions of cheating, extreme guilt

It’s been a week since I got out of the hospital, and I wish I could say things were starting to make sense again, but they’re not. Physically, I got lucky. The only real injuries were a sprained wrist and some bruises, but mentally not so much. The memory loss feels like a black hole in my mind. It’s like I’ve been dropped into a version of my life that I don’t fully recognize, surrounded by people who feel more like strangers than anything else.

Alex has been around, sort of. He’s here in the way someone fulfills a duty they didn’t really sign up for. It's like he’s just going through the motions, and I feel it, how distant he is, how different everything feels between us. It’s weird because I don’t know why they’re like this, I don't remember if or when things changed. In my mind, everything was fine, but now.. everything about him feels off.

The first thing that confused me when I got home was why none of his things were in our apartment. I remember our place having his stuff scattered all over - his gym bag by the door, textbooks on the table, his clothes always draped over the back of the couch. But when I came back, it was almost like he didn’t live here. The absence was unsettling, like I was in someone else’s apartment instead of my own.

The memory loss is like living in a fog, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t break through it. Alex has been no help with trying to remember anything. He’s distant, dismissive, like being around me is more of an obligation than anything else. Hell he’s been no help with anything at all, trying to do things for myself, cooking, cleaning, even doing my hair is so hard, and I can’t help but feel that if the roles were reversed I’d be doing everything in my power to help him.

I feel lost in my own life, so I figure maybe it’s time to find some comfort elsewhere, someone who might actually have some answers.

I sit on the couch, my phone in hand, staring at the screen for what feels like forever. Who do I even reach out to when nothing feels familiar? After a while, one name keeps coming back to me. Nick. Our interaction at the hospital made me feel seen. I felt safe around him. I need someone who might actually care, someone who can help me piece together this fractured reality I’m living in.

I open up my messages and search for his name: Nick. There it is, our chat history. I can see the old texts, dozens of them, conversations that clearly meant something once. I can’t bring myself to read through them, though. The thought of diving into a version of me I can’t remember feels too overwhelming. What if I don’t like who I used to be? What if these texts reveal things I’m not ready to confront yet? My stomach twists with unease, but I shake it off.

Instead, I type out a quick message, simple and noncommittal.

"Hey Nick. Sorry for the text, but I was wondering if you’d want to hang out sometime? I’m trying to figure some stuff out, and maybe you could help me fill in some gaps."

I hit send before I can overthink it. Immediately, a wave of nerves crashes over me. What if he doesn’t reply? Or worse, what if he does, and it just makes everything even more confusing? But I need to do this. I need to try and get back some sense of who I was, even if it freaks me out a little.

I toss my phone onto the couch, not wanting to stare at it while I wait for a response. Maybe this will help. Maybe reconnecting with Nick can help me piece together parts of my life that feel like they’ve been erased.

Matt’s POV

The past week had been a blur of darkness. This is what I imagine hell to feel like. I hadn't left my bed, except to scavenge for food in the middle of the night when everyone was asleep. I couldn’t stand the thought of anyone seeing me like this, so I made sure to avoid everyone. When they knocked on my door, tried to offer comfort or check in on me, I told them to leave. I couldn’t handle it. It felt like I was grieving someone who was still alive, someone who didn’t even remember me.

I lay there, staring at the ceiling, replaying every moment of that night in my head. The headlights. The screeching tires. Her scream. The words I should’ve said but didn’t. They haunted me like a broken record, stuck on repeat, taunting me with the things I can never take back.

Then, there was a knock on the door.

“Go away” I muttered, barely above a whisper. I couldn’t handle another conversation, not now.

But the door opened anyway.

Nick stepped inside, his expression a mix of concern and frustration. "Matt, I’m coming in whether you like it or not."

I didn’t have the energy to fight him. I just stayed where I was, buried under the covers, as if they could shield me from everything I was feeling. Nick sat down at the edge of the bed, not saying anything at first, just looking at me like he didn’t know where to start.

After a minute, he broke the silence. “Y/n texted me.”

My heart clenched at the sound of her name. “What?”

“She asked me if I  wanted to hang out, maybe try to piece together some of her past. It’s so sad seeing her like this, like she doesn’t know anything. It’s like she’s starting over completely." Nick paused, running a hand through his hair. "And you know what's even weirder? Knowing that asshole Alex is still lurking around. I don’t get it, Matt. Why haven’t you reached out to her? She could use someone who actually cares about her."

I let out a bitter laugh. “I can’t, Nick. I’ll only hurt her. I’m the reason she’s like this in the first place.”

Nick’s brow furrowed, confused. “Why do you keep saying that? How the hell is this your fault? It was an accident Matt.”

I sat up slightly, leaning against the headboard, knowing I couldn’t avoid this conversation any longer. Nick deserved to know the truth. The weight of it all had been suffocating me, and maybe telling him would give me some kind of release, even if it didn’t take away the guilt.

“You don’t get it, Nick. You think I just liked Y/n, that it was some crush, but it went further than that. Way further. I loved her, I love her.” I took a deep breath, trying to steady my voice. “Since the night I met her we really clicked. We had this instant connection, like we just got each other. I started remembering the little things about her, like how she hated fish, or how she could be so quiet and then burst into laughter that filled a room. There was this one night, Emily asked me to get her purse from Y/n’s place, the night Alex got into the fight. I got there and when she opened the door, it was obvious she’d been crying, it killed me to see her like that, I thought about her the whole drive home so once I left Emily to the club I had to go back to her. So I brought her back here, we all ended up playing Mario Kart together, remember?"

Nick nodded but stayed silent, waiting for me to continue.

"I can’t explain to you how much comfort I found around her. The feeling she’d give me inside. I would've kissed her that night, man. I would have. But then you came in, telling us about that fight Alex had. The moment was gone. Then Emily gave out to me for being around her so I had to cut her off, but the feelings for her always stayed. The night we were all on the beach after Topgolf, it was just the two of us walking, I loved just being by her side, it felt so freeing to just be in her presence again.I wanted to kiss her so badly that night too but then it was Chris and that stupid fucking jelly fish. I couldn’t get enough of her, she opened up to me that night about Alex, told me she’d given up skating to provide for Alex. Have you ever seen that girl on the ice? I mean she was training for the fucking Olympics of all things. I just wanted to see her happy. So the next night, I rented out the LA King’s Valley ice skating rink just for her.. God if you could’ve seen the way she lit up that night, to give her something that was hers. I kissed her that night. Hell, I’d spare you the rest of the details, but… yeah, it wasn’t just a crush. I cared about her more than I’ve ever cared about anyone. I wanted to protect her, to be there for her, but I couldn’t even do that right.”

I swallowed hard, the guilt rising like bile in my throat. "The night of Tara’s party she told me that Alex and Emily were cheating on us. I thought it was my way out, Nick. I thought I could finally leave Emily and be with Y/n, and I knew she’d leave Alex. But then.. one of Y/n’s earrings must’ve fallen out in my bed when she passed out in there. Emily found it before I could even confront her about Alex. She blackmailed me, man. Said if I left her, she'd ruin Y/n’s life. She'd tell Alex everything, make her life a living hell."

Nick’s face twisted with anger. “And you believed her?”

“I did. I didn’t know what else to do. I’m a coward, Nick. I should’ve walked away right then and there, but I didn’t. I went to that party with Emily, and I told Y/n that what we had was a mistake and that it was over.” My voice cracked. “She was devastated. I could see it in her eyes. I shattered her heart right there and then in that bathroom. And then.. she ran.  She ran into the street. I tried to get her off the road but I was too late. One of the last things I heard her say was that she loved me. I know she was about to say she thought I loved her too, but I cut her off. I told her to get off the road. And then…”

I couldn’t finish the sentence. My throat tightened, and I pressed my hands to my face, trying to block out the memory.

Nick sat there, stunned. “Matt..”

“It’s my fault” I whispered. “All of it. She was only on that road because I made her believe what we had wasn’t real. But it was, Nick. She’s the realest thing I’ve ever had.”

Nick was quiet for a long moment, and then he shifted closer, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Matt, I get why you’re blaming yourself, but you didn’t make that car hit her. You didn’t cause the accident. And as for Emily? Screw her. Y/n would want you to fight for her, not to hide away."

I shook my head. "I can't, Nick. She doesn't even remember me. She doesn’t remember any of it. I’ve lost her."

Nick’s grip tightened, his voice soft but firm. “Then remind her. Show her who you are. Don’t let Emily, or Alex, or anyone else take that away from you. You love her. That’s all that matters.”

I wanted to believe him, but the guilt was too heavy, too consuming.

a/n: i'm literally only capable of posting this rn bc i watched the 2023 tea party and it made me laugh

taglist : @muwapsturniolo @anitahunt @sturnfannn @jayde510 @chrissfavhoe @babyalliah-777 @v33angel l @urmom69lol @willowrites @ribread03 @2muchofaslvt @sturnsaver @sleepysturniolo @jcsturniolo11 @jessie-essie @hoeforchrizz @mynbbys @sturniolopanini @mattsturnxoxo @delicatechrry @t77te @sturnsyaper69 @hotdismylife @maggot3647 @ivysturnss @noplaceissafeanymore @mattssgf @yourfavsturniologirl @maethem0nth @sillyponygrl @mattyblover07 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @dominicfikeenthusiast @mattsfavbigtitties @ncm9696 @chrisstvrns @schlutt4matty @chrissolos @ilusa @amelia-sturniolo3 @wonnieeluvvr @pussydestroyer100 @amexiass @mystinkylefttoe26 @lizzysmith110 @sturniololovebot @secret-sturniolo @freshythefishy @witchofthehour @stvrnlover @alizestvrnss @beachbabe000 @pinkdyit

[bad268]

Burn

Aftermath Affair Pt. 4

(Oscar Pisatri X Reader + Ex! Lando Norris X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Formula 1

Requested: Nope, happy 5 years!

Warnings: Airing dirty laundry lol, that's about it. Based on the song from Hamilton (not Lewis)

POV: Second Person (You/your/They/them)

W.C. 1710

Chapter Summary: Y/n L/n posted a new video, and everyone's hearts stop.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

<-Part 3

~~(^Both from Pinterest)

You moved in with Oscar that night. All you took were your clothes. Everything that Lando bought you now burned you, and you couldn’t give a fuck less about what he bought you. You wanted nothing to do with anything related to Lando. He reached out once, asking where you were. All you said was, “Ask Ava.” He understood then. At least, you assumed he did because you blocked his number and every social media account he had before he could respond. 

You heard from Oscar that Lando was a wreck. You laughed it off because he did this to himself.

Your subscribers noticed the change. Your personal channel content changed from video games to vlogs. You were going out and doing things, in London they learned, and they loved to see it. You still played games, but fewer racing games and more random games you always wanted to play. Your subscribers also noticed how happy you were. They were convinced you and Lando got engaged.

Little did they know, you were falling for a different man.

Your subscribers were thrown for a loop when your shared channel with Lando was deleted. You decided it was time to delete it. They bombarded your socials almost immediately, asking what’s going on. They tried to see if it was rebranded or saved anywhere, but it seemed like your entire relationship was ripped from the internet. Your Instagram was void of Lando, your channel no longer had videos with him, and you didn’t follow him anywhere anymore. They didn’t even notice until then.

~

Y/n L/n just posted!

“A Letter to Lando”

“By now, you will have all seen that the shared channel is gone,” You opened the video. You were sitting in your new recording room. It was more open than your last one, more bright. You had a large window that brought in a lot of natural light, and it was more your style. The last one was just Lando’s recording room that you borrowed, so you couldn’t change it. When you moved in, Oscar told you to make this space yours in any way you wanted. It took a while, but you felt at home for once. “I deleted our shared channel because I am erasing myself from this narrative.“

“I’ve filmed this video at least three times at this point,” You took a breath as you felt tears well up in your eyes again. It’s hard to talk about what happened. Not only the way in which you found out about the cheating but also how you reacted. It was one of the darkest times in your life, and it took a lot to come back from. “I’m sorry, but it’s been a struggle trying to find the words to share this. As many of you have seen on Lando’s Instagram, Lando and I are no longer together.”

Oscar still had to follow Lando on Instagram for team purposes, and that’s how you saw that he posted a hard launch with Ava. 

You still did not know how you wanted to tell everyone what happened. You looked off at the wall. Your viewers couldn’t see it, but there was a picture of you and Oscar from a few months ago. You went out to celebrate 1.5 million subscribers. Oscar insisted, saying it was a huge milestone, and you didn’t want to make it a big deal. He insisted and dragged you out of the apartment. The picture was taken right after you accidentally knocked ice cream onto his nose. Lando wouldn’t even celebrate 1 million with you. Remembering the happiness with Oscar made you smile.

“Clearly, we’re not together anymore,” You sighed as your smile faded. “I’m not going into details, but I hope they’re happy. My friends always said he would do what it took to survive, and they were right. I was blinded by his words and his actions. That’s on me.”

“You talked about how long you have been in love with her, and how you didn’t believe in true love until you met each other,” You let out a breath as you thought of your next words carefully. “You told the world how you brought this girl into our bed, and in explaining your love story, you have ruined our lives. Do you know what my friends said? They called you an Icarus! That’s how my friends reacted, so I’ve decided that I’ll let you wonder how I reacted when you broke my heart, when you tore us apart.”

“I kept every letter you ever wrote to me,” You chuckled lightly as you pulled out a few pieces of paper. “The letter you first asked me out with because you were too scared to ask me face to face, the letter you wrote when we hit each milestone, random letters where you just professed your love, and letters that I would have cherished forever. I also kept the letter I wrote to you when I found out. I thought about reading a few lines out,” You insinuated by opening one of the letters before pulling out a lighter. You had already opened the window and had a bucket of water by your feet, and Oscar was standing outside with a fire extinguisher just in case. You chuckled lightly as you skimmed the loving words that had now turned sour in your eyes. At that moment, you decided you wanted to watch it burn. “I’ll let you all wonder how I reacted when he broke my heart.”

Your soft smile as you read slowly turned to a scowl before you lit the corner of the paper and looked directly into the camera. “Lando, you don’t deserve to see how I reacted. You don’t deserve anything from me. The world has no place in our bed, and they don’t get to know what I said. I am burning the memories, the letters that might have redeemed you. Lando, you can sleep in your office with only the memories of when you were mine.”

You lit all of Lando’s letters one by one before dropping them in the bucket once they were destroyed. Then you grabbed your letter to Lando. You skimmed through the multiple pages of it, remembering the feelings before lighting the corner. “You didn’t give me the decency to tell me yourself. I had to learn of your affair from your friend, so you forfeit the rights to my heart. You forfeit the place in our bed. I hope you’re happy with yourself, Lando.”

You threw the last letter into the bucket and gazed at the camera. Finally, you felt at peace.

“One last note to Lando Norris,” You paused, allowing a small smile to envelop your features, “I hope you burn.”

~

The reactions were almost instant. You sat on the couch curled up against Oscar’s body, rewatching Sex Education. It was one of your favorite shows, but Lando hated it, so you never got to watch it. Oscar binged it once, so he was always down to rewatch it with you. You heard your phone going off, so you pulled it out of your pocket to check it. However, Oscar immediately took it out of your hand and powered it off. 

“Hey, what’s that for?” You chuckled as he moved your phone away from you. “I was gonna check that.”

“Shhh, the show is playing,” He whispered as he leaned toward your ear before turning his attention back to the show. 

“You’re insufferable,” You laughed as you turned your attention back to the screen. It didn’t hold your attention long as you looked back over to Oscar. You were leaning against his chest with your arms wrapped around his waist, so you were looking up at him. He had an arm around your shoulder while the other rested against your thigh that was lying over his lap. You got lost in your thoughts.

Oscar was everything to you. You felt more free whenever you were with him. At first, he gave you the space to refind yourself. He even supported you throughout the journey. Any game you wanted, he bought. Any new hobby, he tried it with you, so you wouldn’t feel alone. He never pushed you to do anything, but he did support you in everything you wanted to try. 

You never felt this supported with Lando. Looking back, he was toxic. He only wanted to play racing games or stupid games. You wanted to try other things, and he would be condescending. He always pushed you to fit the cookie cutter mold that other racing drivers’ girlfriends fit, but that was never going to be you. Oscar encouraged the change because staying in the same thing for too long can burn you out. It was true.

At some point of your staring, Oscar looked down at you with a smile. It wasn’t until he left a kiss on your forehead that you noticed.

When you first moved in, Oscar was very respectful in giving you your space to heal. He made sure to give you multiple spaces where you could retreat to including your own room and recording room. As the time moved on, you slowly migrated into his room for movie nights and late-night binges, and it eventually became you two staying in the same bed all night. Oscar never pushed you away. He wanted you to know that he was there for you whenever you were ready, and he was willing to wait as long as he needed for you. 

“Penny for your thoughts,” He said with a quiet tone, not wanting to disturb the peace.

“I think I’m ready,” You replied in the same tone. You moved to sit up a little more before grabbing Oscar’s hand, “I’m ready to give us a chance.”

“Really?” Oscar asked as he started getting excited before calming back down, “Wait, I don’t want to rush you if you aren’t ready.”

“That’s exactly why I’m ready,” You laughed as you leaned back into him. “You gave me the space to become comfortable again. Oscar, I don’t think I’ve ever felt this comfortable and free with someone in my life! You have been everything but pushy, and I’m ready to try us.”

~~~ Part 5 ->

~

Tags- @barcelonaloverf1life

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[wosoragebaiter69]

you don’t have to be perfect

barça fem x teen!reader, lucy bronze x teen!reader

request: here

A/N: also i would just like to say, if anyone has any feedback for my writing it’s greatly appreciated cuz i’m not the best writer ik that but i want to improve.

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

It was apart of the contract I first signed with Barcelona that I continue my studies and finish school. Not ideal, but I get by with around 80% and sitting on a B for most my classes. What I didn’t factor in was the amount of stress I would have on top of the League and UWCL games when exams and assignments from 6 different classes were coming up. That’s hard on a 17 year old.

I felt myself start to drift away from everyone in the 2 weeks before mayhem. First it was denying to go out with the younger girls like Salma and Vicky, both of whom understood. Vicky being the same age as me and Salma only 2 years older than us. Then as expectations rose, classes became longer and filled extra information. All the time I wasn't on the pitch, I was studying. Or sleeping. (we dont talk about how even thats being cut down to maximum 5 hours a night).

Living with Lucy meant that she was bound to catch on to what was happening. It was inevitable. She took me under her wing when I first arrived along with some of the older girls and since I don’t speak Spanish natively, I was told to go with Lucy who was told to keep an eye on me. It’s nice, when you don’t want her to worry about how you’re ignoring everyone and have bags under your eyes whenever she sees you. She really does try her hardest to get me to do anything that’s not over analysing and over-studying the numerous topics, but no matter how much it pains me. I always turn her down.

After another night of studying until 2am, there’s an early morning training session and I know I’ve only gotten 4 hours of sleep. If I told the medical staff I’m sure they’d pale.

I’m aware that I probably look like death walking, but it doesn’t bother me. If I pass with above average grades, I’m happy and I know my actual parents will be too. I ignore the concerned looks that Irene and Alexia give Lucy, and get changed ready for the training session.

It’s gruelling, the lack of sleep from the past 2 weeks has finally started to catch up. When I least needed it to. Maybe I am working too hard. It’s too late for that though. I know I’m being watched by the captains, acting for a little bit longer won’t do much harm. Can it?

When the third water break rolls around, I sit on the floor and flop onto my back, closing my eyes. Too tired in the moment to do anything other than breathe. The sunshine above me dulls as Lucy and Alexia stare down at me. When I open my eyes. My captain has a raised brow, while my roommate has her arms crossed.

“Y/N, get up please. Now.” It’s Lucy who speaks first. I don’t give in. What’s their problem?

“No. I am fine where I am thank you very much.” I bite back. Lucy looks like she’s trying to hold herself together and Alexia looks furious. Unconsciously, I sink into myself hoping the ground could swallow me up.

“Nena, we won’t ask again.” The spaniard says, her voice low as she sticks out her hand.

I reluctantly take it, pulling myself up and staring at the two in front of me.

“Come.” Alexia says blankly, leaving no room for argument before walking toward the main building. I sigh, doing as she says or I know I won’t hear the end of it. Lucy trails just behind me, her jaw set and making sure I don’t run away.

When inside I’m placed on a couch, wishing and praying to any extra-terrestrial being that I can leave this confrontation. What is it even about? Why am I here? I’ve done nothing wrong.

“So, we noticed you’ve been pushing people out. You also look dead.” Classic Alexia, straight to the point.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I look away.

“Really? Because when I go to bed, which is around midnight and sometimes 1 if I’m doing other work. Your light is always on. You better fess up now before we make you do extra laps, and clear all the equipment from training.” It’s Lucy this time, starring daggers into me. Still, I don’t let up.

“Maybe I left the light on.” I shrug. “And why do we have to do this right now? I have 2 exams tomorrow. So, if I may. Let’s finish training so I can get to study and do other things.”

“This is exactly what I’m talking about Y/N. You’re deflecting absolutely everything we say. You’re not taking the information in. I get you’re stressed but that doesn’t mean you isolate yourself.” She pauses, sighing deeply. “We are going home right now. You will not touch your school work, this has gone on for long enough. I know Alexia agrees with me.”

“Before you argue, just think. Is this really the best way I could’ve prepared? Yes nail in, do the study for good results. But also remember to utilise the support system you have, the team, the coaches, take a break.” By the end of the rant I feel tears well in my eyes. I feel someone hug me and I can tell who it is by the obscurely large hands.

“Nena, go home with Lucy. Get some rest, and not only will you feel better but it gives your brain a break. When the week is over we can talk more but for now go.” The Catalan smiles warmly. I nod my head saying thanks before walking with Lucy to the car.

“Do you feel alright? You do look very pale.” She places her hands against my face and frowns. “No temperature. I’ll get some food into you and we’ll have a rest day. Just us.” I nod slowly staring out of the window as my mind races.

When we get to the apartment, no conversation is made and I immediately go and take a shower. It’s there that I cry and let all my frustrations out, the stress finally taking its toll on my mind.

When I’m dressed and ready I walk out to the smell of pancakes and Lucy sitting on the couch with Narla next to her. She hears me and turns her head around, eyebrows furrowing at the state I’m in.

She pats the open spot next to her which isn’t taken by the Westie and hands me a plate, which I accept gratefully.

It’s a comfortable silence, but I know she’s waiting for me to say anything. And this time, I do.

“I’m sorry Luce.” My voice is quiet and more high pitched compared to what it normally sounds like.

She smiles lightly.

“Hey, these things happen. You’re smart, just as Alexia said give your mind a rest and you’ll do better. Myself, Keira, the rest of the team only want the best for you and your well-being. Let’s not talk about this now, take it step by step. You’ll be ok.” I nod wiping freshly formed tears as she pulls me into a big hug, giving the rest of her pancake to Narla who eats it happily.

- - - - -

And ok it would be. I end up playing Fifa with Lucy the rest of the day before eventually falling asleep against her. As for the exams, I pass by with good grades and after everything’s done the team takes me out to a restaurant to celebrate. As much as I deny it, this team is the most important thing to me. I love and adore them all so much.

[liloinkoink]

hey guys, someone just sent me a weird ass ask claiming my incredibly close friend cherri @cherrifire secretly hate me and is talking abt me behind my back. i was not the only person to get one of these identical slanderous asks. i’ve already blocked the anon but like. open letter to them, and for the benefit of anyone else who gets an ask like this….

1) anon, you’re genuinely fucking stupid

2) hysterical to send this when i was actively chatting w her, while we were in the process of fleshing out yet another renchanting au, something we have done all day every day for… gosh, how long has it been now? nearly two years? i would say that it was really bad timing to send this ask to me while i was actively chatting aus w her but there really isn’t any moment you could have sent this that i wouldn’t have been.

3) if you thought i wasn’t gonna call bullshit and snitch immediately you don’t know shit about me or cherri, which, granted, is evident by the ask in general, but you really are stupid

4) if a gc like this existed—which it does not, bc cherri is not like this and would not do this—i would be in it. this idiot doesn’t even know im cherri’s emotional support writer. do you have any idea how many gcs and servers she’s dragged me into w her.

5) get your facts right cherri talks shit about me to my face. this is mutual. fake ass fan. if you were a real cherri friend you would know this smh

6) no, actually, you’re right, she definitely hates me. that’s why i met her irl literally like 3 months ago on her invitation, we hung out for a genuine week, spent basically the whole time arm in arm or hand in hand. this is also why we were planning a second meetup last night. you idiot. you fool. you complete and utter moron

anyway, if anyone gets this ask:

it’s complete bullshit. theyre sending this to cherri’s best friends for some godforsaken reason. it’s very weird and deeply cringe. also incredibly poorly planned. idk how many ppl you sent this to, but a few of us are in a gc and we have been making fun of this ask for like an hour (anon, im one of cherri’s friends and she’s been telling a small group of friends about you— lol. lmao even)

anyway like. to reiterate. cherri’s one of my best friends, she’s absolutely lovely and i’m lucky every day to know her. we hang out and chat constantly and we’ve met irl and it was an incredible experience i would love to repeat. i have told her things i have not fuckin told anyone else and you could not otherwise waterboard out of me. i love talking to her all the time and i miss her when she’s busy for even like, an hour. i love writing w her and creating things w her. she’s an incredibly bright spot in my life, often the first person i think of upon waking and the last i think of before i sleep. she is kind and funny and i love her a lot.

i’m a bitch tho so like @ this anon go fuck yourself. you better hope that when you die that the devil finds you before i do. sending this ask to a bunch of our friends, trying to turn the people she cares about against her, and for what? you clearly don’t know her well enough to be talking like this. trying to ruin my friend’s reputation and friendships w a vague as hell and entirely baseless copy paste is super fucking weird. why would you do this? and like, do you think we were born yesterday to fall for this? i’m insulted for her for whatever it was you were trying to pull and i’m insulted on behalf of myself and everyone else you sent this to that you think we’re as stupid as you are. what is your damage. get a hobby.

[issdisgrace]

Look what can be requested and I am so excited! It can be one of Ghost being married and after a long time finally 141 meets her husband who is someone so nice, kind and cute to everyone, attractive and a bar owner, he could meet 141 when they go to a nice restobar and boom! they see Ghost's handsome husband.

THE BAR​

WARNINGS: Nothing really other than Ghost threatening Soap​

A/N: I’m gonna to make a part 2 of this later on fyi​

We got back to base the other day and tonight Price decided to take us out for drinks, said he knew a great place nearby. Needing a drink, I decide to go on with this little adventure and in the end we ended up at a bar that is all too familiar to me. It was my husband Y/n’s bar, the one that he took so much pride and joy in. The sight of it made me feel warm inside knowing that he would be in there tending bar like normal. But it also made me worried the guys didn’t know about Y/n. I made sure of that, but now there was no way to get out of this situation. They were going to find out tonight.

Entering the bar, there were few people scattered about, typical for a Tuesday night. Y/n like I expected was behind the bar tending to the people that were sitting at it. His motions were elegant and fluid, making him look angelic. Angelic, angelic was a good word for him. He looked like he was ripped from a fashion magazine and realistically Y/n could have anyone. But he wants me and that makes me feel good like really however I digress.

We made our way to a table towards the back near the restrooms. My back was to the bar as we all sat and figured who was paying for what round. We came to an agreement and settled on Price, Soap, Gaz, and then me. Right before Price could ask us what we wanted I felt arms wrap around my waist and a kiss on my cheek. The look of utter shock written on others’ faces was comical. Already knowing who it was I leaned back into his chest welcoming his familiar warmth.

“Want your normal darling.”

“Yes.”

“Alright, I’ll get that for you right away and the drinks are on the house for your friends.”

“Thank you, love.”

“No problem.” He says before giving me another kiss on the cheek before leaving. Looking back at the guys, they are still in shock. It’s like that for a minute or two before Soap says,

“What the fuck just happened? Who the fuck was that?”

“He’s my husband Y/n.”

“HUSBAND?” They all questioned.

“Yes, husband. We’ve been married for 4 years so far, but we’ve been together for 8 years.”

“9 years coming up in 1 month, 3 weeks, and 5 days.” Y/n says, coming up behind me, setting my drink down in front of me and giving me a kiss on the cheek. I smile at that. He has always kept track of any anniversaries or birthdays. I suspect he keeps track to the hours, minutes, and seconds, but I’ve never asked.

“Oh right, how rude of me I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Y/n, I’m Simon’s husband and you guys must be Price, Soap, and Gaz. It’s nice to meet you guys. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“The Lt. talks about us?”

“Yes, He’s told me quite a lot.”

“Aww, that’s sweet Lt. You do love us.”

“Fuck off Johnny.”

“You love me Lt.”

“No I don’t. I only love Y/n.”

“That’s cute.” Gaz says.

“Sickly cute.” Soap adds.

“Leave Simon alone you two. He’ll give you hell tomorrow.”

“Alright Captain.” The two say in unison. Prices are right. If they keep it up, I’ll make tomorrow's training a living hell for them. Before I voice my agreement to Price Y/n chimes in,

“As much of a pleasure it is to meet all you guys I still unfortunately have a bar to run. So what will you guys be drinking tonight?” They team orders and Y/n gives me a quick kiss before heading back to the bar to make their drinks.

“So Lt. How did you manage to bag such a hotty?”

With all seriousness I say, “If you so much as look at him in any way other than in a friend type of way I will gouge your eyes out and feed them to you.”

I see horror flash in his eyes before he says,

“Alright, alright Lt. No need to get violent. I’ll behave scouts honor.” He holds up the boy scout hand sign.

“You’ve never been a boy scout Soap. I don’t think they would’ve even let you be one.” Gaz says.

“Rude, I would be a great boy scout. “

Price lets out a chuckle at the two, shaking his head. I join him and just shake my head. I can tell this is going to be long night.

[writingquestionsanswered]

IDK how many people are running the account, but if you or a member of the team running the account has ADHD, do you have any tips for ADHD writers, particularly when trying to get WIPs done? Outlines don't work for me like 99% of the time ;_;

Tips for Writing with ADHD

Here's what works for me, but your mileage may vary...

1 - Know What Outline Works for You - You say outlines don't work for you 90% of the time, but what type of outline are you using? Many people hear the word "outline" and imagine an academic outline with roman numerals and bullet points, but that's not what most fiction writers mean when they talk about using an outline. For fiction writers, outlines can be anything from a beginning to end written summary, to a scene list, to a detailed timeline. My post How to Outline a Plot has some different things you can try. Ultimately, there's no right or wrong way to outline your story. Anything that works as a "road map" to guide you through your story can help.

2 - Pants When You've Got to Pants - Some writers are "pantsers" or in other words, they prefer not to go off an outline. Some don't even plan in advance. They "write by the seat of their pants" and let the story take them where it may. For some writers, it depends on the specific story they're working on. Some stories might require planning, others might work better if you pants them. What works for me is understanding my needs (what type of story I'll usually need to plan/outline ahead of time, and what type of story I can pants) and then planning/pantsing accordingly. If I spent time outlining a story that I could easily pants, it would definitely take the wind out of my writing sails.

3 - Schedule Your Writing Time... Sort Of... - For me, I can't just rely on myself to write when the mood strikes me. If I did that, I'd never get any writing done. So for me, it's important to have a dedicated writing time each day. That doesn't even have to mean my butt's in the chair writing from this time to this time, it just means I'll do my best to write during whatever span of time. So, let's say this week you're home every day from 2pm until 6pm and some of that time is free time. That's going to be a good time to write, so you could say you're going to sit down every day at 3pm to write. Or, you could do 10-minute writing springs every hour, or every other hour. Or you could say you'll write when the mood strikes you, but definitely from 5:30 to 6 if you didn't get it done earlier.

4 - Try Random Writing Sprints - Writing sprints in general can be a good way for people with ADHD to write. You can schedule them or you could do them when the mood strikes. Get a timer and set it to whatever works for you... 5-minutes, 10-minutes, 30-minutes, whatever. Then just set it and go when you have time. Even if you don't feel like writing, getting into that habit will make it easier to write as soon as the timer comes out.

5 - Don't Give Yourself a Hard Time - One of the most profound things I ever heard about writing resistance is that it's often the product of writing feeling stressful. In other words, the idea of writing causes you stress, so your brain says, "Avoid! Avoid!" and you sit down to write and nothing happens. One of the ways we make writing stressful for ourselves is by giving ourselves a hard time when we don't write or don't write as much as we wanted. So, just do the best you can and congratulate yourself on small victories. Find ways to make writing fun and relaxing rather than stressful and like a chore.

Bonus - Sometimes the problem isn't ADHD but something else. My post 5 Reasons You Lost Interest in Your WIP, Plus Fixes! has some other things to consider.

I hope that helps!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[socaltickle5]

Not sure who amongst you tickling/kink friends needs to hear this right now…Please Reblog and comment if you feel inclined and agree! Maybe your interaction with this post will reach and help someone in need in our great Tickling Community!! At the very least, hopefully it will help warmly welcome any new/exploring community member!!

But, in a recent conversation with one of my favorite people from the tickling/kink community (who I care deeply about), she told me that she was a lurker for a long time because of fears and inhibitions she built up about immersing herself in the community and her tickling desires. Those fears were:

1- Of herself, and how she’d be perceived/desired within the community. From her attraction, to her laugh/smile, to her ticklishness and others, there was fears of how she was to be perceived.

2- The safety aspect and the general ‘stranger danger’

3- If there are actually any humans that she could have an organic connection she needs from a potential play partner within the community.

4- Just the myriad of unknown scenarios when entering a kink community.

5- Fear of rejection

I’m here to say all of that is okay! That’s human nature to find comfort and safety in protecting yourself from the unknown! You are validated in your feelings, and validated in any approach you take towards your participation level within the community! I myself was VERY overwhelmed with anxiety and shame and fear of the unknown! I felt a ton of shame and taboo about my tickling kink/Dom desires! I felt those feelings over a decade ago (when I first decided to participate), and those fears and inhibitions and anxieties will never be forgotten by me because of how real/deeply I felt them!! I felt all 5 of those fears I listed above!

But, I’m also here to say that I’ve personally never felt happier than when I took that leap! I had to put aside my inhibitions and fears! Our inner peace is everything, and I felt most balanced and proud of myself for allowing my desires to be explored! All of us GET the privilege of being DESERVING of our own happiness! And, with that comes the fact that we are all WORTHY of exploring our desires without shame!! There’s no right or wrong way to enter or approach the tickling community other than what works for YOU!

Through many messages on tumblr/fetlife/reddit and other kink social medias, I’ve been told endlessly over the years about these same scenarios/fears/inhibitions that are preventing someone from their own desires. I know many of my followers on here are struggling with those same feelings currently. YOU DO YOU! And, when you embrace your desires on your own time and at your own comfort level, I’m sure you’ll be proud of yourself as well! And, the best part is, the majority of this community will welcome you with open arms! I, for one, am happy to talk with anyone (no minors) if any of you need comfort, or just someone to talk about all of this with! I admittedly don’t have all the answers, but I am coming from a place of experience and shared feelings/concerns.

Please, always prioritize safety and vetting as well! You cannot allow your enthusiasm for play to mask 🚩 that pop up with potential partners! PROTECT YOURSELF!

To sum this all up, YOU ARE WORTHY OF YOUR OWN HAPPINESS. We cannot control or change the past! Nor can we worry about what we’ve missed out on. You’re the author of the next chapter of your own life, I encourage you to write it your own way with your inner peace and happiness as the focus of the plot!

[hidden-snow]

✦┈⋆┈ ⋞ 〈 Ｒｕｎｎｉｎｇ Ｈｏｍｅ ｔｏ Ｙｏｕ 〉 ⋟ ┈⋆┈✦

Summary // You thought your relationship was as special to him as it was to you. You thought he loved and cherished you as much as you loved and cherished him. But when his family leaves the Omatikaya and all he has to offer is ‘I’m sorry’ when you beg and plead for him to stay with you, you realize that you were so, so wrong about him. Heartbroken and defeated, a girl barely seventeen years old, you decide that you will never love again. After all, it hadn’t meant anything to him. Years later and you are the best of the best. A strong warrior and an even better hunter, you provide for your people in every way except for a child to add to the next generation of Omatikaya people. They respect your wishes but you can hear the whispers. You can feel the concerned gazes from your parents, too old to conceive a sibling to make up for your lack of children. When he comes back, it throws you through a loop. Handsome, mighty, and different, he comes to you right away. But you promised yourself.

Warnings // Angst, a bit of stalker Neteyam, some fluff, mentions of drinking, heartbreak

Word count // 1,506

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7

He was everywhere.

When you were supposed to be training the younger hunters, when you were telling stories to the children, when you were eating meals with the rest of the clan.

No matter where you were, you could count on him being nearby, keeping an eye on you as if you were his and only his.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the thought, mainly because you knew that, no matter what, you would never belong to anyone. Especially not to him.

Though… in a way, it was also kind of sweet that he cared so much about who you were around. Annoying as it was, he was very eager to show that he still cared about you despite all these years of separation.

No matter what, though, you were determined to not allow him to get into your head again. Not this time. Not ever again.

Gritting your fists, you set yourself into the mindspace of the task you had to do now; some one on one training with a young student who was currently a bit farther behind than the others.

Walking along the trodden dirt path, you came to a clearing surrounded by thickly growing plants, trees towering over you as if reaching to the blue hued sky above. You draw in a slow breath, letting it out slowly as you wait for your student to show up, bow resting against your back.

“I hope you don’t mind. I convinced Ìtseì to let me have this training session with you. I could use some practice with you.”

Exasperated, you turn to level Neteyam with your best, coldest glare, only to find that he was unfazed by your hostility. He simply smirked back at you, raising an eyebrow as he pulled his bow from behind his back.

“Are you sure you still know how to use a bow? After all that time, swimming with the reef people… it probably left you extremely rusty.”

“Ah, there’s that spitfire I’ve been waiting for,” Neteyam responded, notching one of his feathered arrows. Intricately carved, delicate and deadly. Quick to pierce hearts, sharp enough to end a life in one shot.

Just like how he ended the life you’d had before.

You shake your head, regathering your thoughts to what you needed to do.

“You’re a big boy. Help yourself. Since Ìtseì did not show up, I will go and hunt by myself,” you respond, turning your back to the male, fully intent on hunting alone.

Except, he didn’t leave you alone.

You were beginning to wonder if this was a behavioral pattern that had been forged into him by his father from a young age. After all, Neteyam followed Jake around all the time as a child, ready and waiting for orders or instructions that only he could take care of.

That had to be the reason for his stalker-like behavior.

Pushing aside heavy, large leaves and small viney shrubs, you could hear him behind you, despite the fact that he was very obviously trying hard not to make a sound.

“Following me is not going to get you on my good side,” you warn softly, throwing the comment over your shoulder aggressively as you walked a bit faster.

He wasn’t discouraged, nor did he seem to be bothered by your sharp words or your dismissive behavior. In fact, it seemed to spur him on more, his footsteps speeding up so that he could catch up with you.

“Come on, Y/n. Can’t we just talk? You and I, together, like we used to do. Please.”

His fingers wrap around your wrist and you yank away, at the same time swinging your bow at him, instinctive training kicking in. He ducked down, barely missing the slash of your bow in the area where his face had been mere seconds ago.

“Do not touch me, Neteyam te Sulli Tsyeyk’itan. I am not your yawne. I am not your childhood friend. I am not your toy or your plaything. You have destroyed everything we once had. You have crumbled every bridge that sat between you and I. I want nothing to do with you.”

This time, he falters, a look of horror and shock on his face. But you aren’t really sure if that was directed towards the fact that you’d tried to hit him or the words that had just spilled from your lips.

You turn away to hide the tears that were now burning hot and fresh in your eyes, refusing to allow him the satisfaction of seeing you cry. He didn’t even deserve that.

Your feet move before you can think about it, taking you rapidly farther away from the stunned form of the boy who’d ruined your life. You were certain he’d leave you alone now. After all, he was smart, quick to understand the things people were telling him.

Or at least, he used to be.

Your ears twitch to the sound of him running to catch up once more and you sigh, rolling your eyes. Obviously, the ways of the water have dumbed down that intelligence, considering how desperate he was to ignore your stinging-sharp words and your ice-cold disposition towards him specifically.

“Y/n, stop walking.”

You don’t belong to him. You never did. So why did your feet falter in your path? Why did you hesitate to keep going, even as you turn to face him once more?

“Open up, Y/n. I’m back. I’m here. I’m here and I want to talk to you. I want to fix what I broke before. Please, let me explain myself to you.”

There’s a hint of desperation in that smooth tone of his, a soft drop of pleading that didn’t belong to the body that spoke the words. He’d never been the begging type before.

You open your mouth, prepared to respond in the same way as before, when a sharp sting erupted in your cheek and you tumbled to the ground in an ungraceful heap.

Your hand slides up, cupping your sore cheek, as you stare up in shock at the male looming over you, a new expression on his face. Unreadable and hard to pick apart.

“I just want you to hear me out. Just onc- oomph!”

Before he’s finished, you’re launching yourself at him, slamming your shoulder into his abdomen and knocking him to the ground, the soft grass beneath your feet doing nothing to cushion his fall.

“You don’t deserve my attention!” you shriek, grabbing and yanking at his braids as you wrestle him in an attempt to win the little brawl. He’s fighting back, which you had to give him credit for. It wasn’t something you’d expected from him.

Rolling in the grass, disrupting plants and innocent, wandering wildlife, biting and scratching and pulling at anything you can get your hands on, you realize he’s not going to let you win easily.

And for once in your life since he left, you welcome this. Everyone else had been taking it easy on you, seeing as how you were pretty destroyed by his departure. Things had been done for you if they seemed to be too hard. Your parents had doted on you for the past three years, trying to make up the love that you’d lost.

You needed a challenge.

And he was providing it.

It was exciting, exhilarating, full of promises of a frustrated loss or an awarding victory.

You put your all into this little sparring match, putting all of your otherwise-useless training to use. When it became clear that he was doomed to lose, he still refused to fold, fighting until the very end.

When he tapped out, the sensation of a satisfactory win filled you up inside and you couldn’t help the grin that began to grow on your face.

You sat in the grass, working to catch your breaths, silence spreading out between the small clearing you’d both found yourself in.

It was nice, peaceful and calm. Like the days you’d shared as children, playing in the streams under careful adult watch or laying in the grass and staring up at the sky as his siblings ran around picking flowers and playing games.

“Please, talk to me,” he murmured after a while, breaking the soft, gentle silence that had begun to fill you with melancholy as you reminisced on the days of your childhood.

You stand slowly, dusting yourself off as he watched you, trying to come up with the right way to explain yourself.

“I can’t,” you respond, finally meeting his gaze.

“Neteyam, you cannot fix this. Not now. Possibly not ever. I’ve moved on with my life. Don’t you think it is about time that you moved on with yours as well?”

He doesn’t respond, doesn’t even bother to get up, and you grab your discarded items from the ground, not saying another word.

Yet… as you walk away, you realize with a sinking heart, that perhaps, you’d not gotten over him as much as you wanted to believe you had.

Taglist // @earthling55

[starkidmunson]

glitter & crimson

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

If Steve behaves during workouts over the next few days, he can’t be blamed. He’s trying to prove to his coaches and the team’s medical staff that he’s not rushing a return to the ice, but that he’s ready to lace up and get back out there. He bargains his way out of the full plastic face protection mask, opting for a full cage instead. By Sunday, he’s participating in the last full team practice before they pack up to leave Chicago, keeping up with his teammates despite how much he felt he’d been struggling just days earlier.

“You holding up?” Max asks, loudly, as he skates past where a few of the team doctors are sitting, observing and chatting.

“I’m fine,” He answers, and takes a shot, scoring past their goalie who had belly-flopped in the opposite direction of the puck. 

A few of his teammates ‘whoop’, while the goalie slams his stick against the ice, shoving a glove off his hand to flip Steve off, before getting back to work. 

Steve just snorts and skates back toward Max, holding his arms out. “Would you like to do a formal exam? I promise I’m good. I feel good.” He swears, winking at the redhead, scrunching up the side of his face still recovering, immediately wincing. She rolls her eyes and he laughs softly at himself. “Okay, that didn’t feel good, but that’s just because I’m dumb.”

“Not dumb!” She chastises, pointing at him, and the look on her face tells him he’s about to get a scheduled lecture from the entire Party about how he talks about himself again, so he opts to skate away instead, avoiding digging a hole for himself he can’t get out of.

It’s suspiciously quiet and seemingly empty at the apartment that afternoon until Steve ultimately finds Robin lying across his bed. His clothes are scattered everywhere around her. She shoots him a sheepish smile when he drops his bag beside her and raises an eyebrow.

“I was hoping to figure out a few outfits for you to take and look hot for your date with Eddie, but then I realized I have no idea how to dress you to impress a man.” She says, flopping back into the pillows.

Steve snorts and rolls his eyes. “I don’t think that was supposed to be an insult, but, ya know…” He trails off and laughs as Robin tosses a pillow in his direction.

“You know what I mean!”

“I do,” Steve laughs, catching the pillow and sitting beside Robin, picking at the seam of the pillowcase. “If it’s any consolation, I also have no idea how to dress me to impress guys. But I also don’t think impressing Eddie is going to have anything to do with what I wear. At least I hope it won’t.”

Robin makes a gagging noise, but it’s around a little smile, and Steve rolls his eyes before laying beside her, shoving a few tops out of his way. She waits until he’s not looking at her to speak again, both of them looking at the ceiling over his bed. “I just really want this to work for you. You deserve to be happy.” 

“I am happy, Robbie. I promise.” Steve’s softer, and for the first time in a long time, he thinks he honestly means it. Robin turns her head to look at him for a second before she wiggles closer to him and rests her head against his shoulder.

“You’re going to have to actually ask him out on a date, though, you know.” She says after a few beats, which makes him laugh.

“Not if he beats me to it,” He teases, pressing a little kiss to Robin’s temple. “But yeah, I know. I think I’m getting there.”

They lay like that for a few more minutes before Robin eventually shoves herself away from him, demanding he shower before they cuddle anymore. When Steve reenters his bedroom after a hot shower, he finds Robin has paired several tops to pants and folded them together, giving him options for outfits.

“I am humanly capable of dressing myself. I’ve been doing it for nearly 30 years now, you know.” He teases, and she rolls her eyes as he towel dries his hair. He drops the towel into his hamper and tips his head, makes an impressed face. “I wouldn’t have thought to put those pants with that top though, and I think it might just work.” He adds, lifting one of the pairings Robin has come up with and setting it into his travel bag. Robin grins and holds a finger up for him to wait, dashes out of the room, and returns a few moments later with a gray cardigan. “One step too far.” He teases, taking it from her hands and eyeing it skeptically.

“Just trust me on this? You look cuddly when you’re cozy.” She insists, so he sighs and packs it away despite his reservations.

Robin haphazardly throws a few pair of underwear, three tops and a single pair of jeans into a backpack and declares she’s ready to make the trip. 

It’s an early call at the airport on Monday, and Steve’s mostly still asleep as Robin slips into the window seat, pulling him along with her. He uses her shoulder, in combination with a neck pillow, as a headrest to sleep the flight away and he wakes up to his ears popping on the dissent, feeling a little more rested.

The players travel from the airport to check in at the hotel, then a few make their way to do tourist-y things around the city. Steve and Robin tag along, but end up breaking off from the group a few bars in along Broadway. They settle themselves into a corner and share a fishbowl sized concoction, and Steve texts Eddie to let him know they’ve arrived safe and sound and have already hit the town.

Eddie responds to the photo of Steve and Robin sipping from straws in the same bowl with a selfie Gareth took. Eddie’s in the background, using what looks to Steve like an oversized inhaler. He’s up in an instant, making his way around the woman performing on the small stage and outside onto the street where it’s not as noisy so he can call Eddie.

“That was fast,” Eddie teases, and he sounds fine, which confuses Steve further.

“Are you okay? What’s with the inhaler?” He asks, and Eddie’s quiet for a beat.

“Oh, no, Stevie, that’s not a… it’s a nebulizer. I was laying down vocal tracks earlier and it helps keep me from losing my voice.” He explains, then quickly follows up. “Oh my god, did you call because you were worried? That’s so… god, you’re adorable, you know that?”

Steve feels himself blush, and is grateful that they’re on a voice call and not a FaceTime, because Eddie would only tease him more if he could see the shade of red he’s sure his face is. “Shut up, I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“You’re so fucking sweet, Stevie.” Eddie’s voice is like butter, his charm on maximum, and Steve bites at his lip as he listens. “How long are you in town after the game?”

“Back to Chicago on Thursday for two days, then we hit a road stretch for most of next week.” Steve answers, and Eddie hums. “What’s that for?” Steve asks, genuinely curious.

“Means I’m trying to figure out if I want to hit the road, or wait until you’re back in Chicago for more than two days to make the next trip to see you.” 

Steve takes a deep breath at that, smiles, and lets out a huff of air that sounds like a light laugh. “I’m going to go back into the bar and finish this fishbowl, then we’re going back to the hotel to swim and sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow, after the game, okay?”

“I thought you didn’t drink before games?” Eddie asks, and Steve tries not to melt at the details the other remembers.

“I’m not taking the ice tomorrow, and I… usually just have a cut-off time. When we first met, I was worried I would say something stupid if I started drinking and end up scaring you off.” It’s more honest than he intends to be, more information than he means to share, but he doesn’t regret telling Eddie, and he isn’t embarrassed.

“I think we both know it takes more than that to scare me off, sweetheart.”

Steve’s pretty sure he stops breathing at the term of endearment and he can’t tell if Eddie is freaking out or proud of himself, because he doesn’t say anything for a moment before he gives a quick goodbye and hangs up, leaving Steve standing on Broadway, looking up at the “Tootsies Orchid Lounge” sign, trying to keep himself from spiraling.

Some time must pass, then, before Robin comes out to check on him, gently lays a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. “Dude, you okay?”

“He, uh. He called me sweetheart.” 

“Good grief,” Robin mumbles, resting her head on Steve’s shoulder. “I thought he broke up with you or something.”

“Kinda hard to break up with someone you aren’t dating, Robbie.” Steve shakes his head in an effort to pull himself together.

“Whatever you say,” she tugs his arm, then, leading him back into the bar where they finish their drink and head back to the hotel. 

~~~

Open mouth, insert foot. The Eddie Special. The one thing becoming a constant during his conversations with Steve.

“What did you call him?” Jeff asks around a smile after Eddie hangs up the phone, grabs the nearest throw pillow, and shoves his face into it.

“I’m pretty sure he said sweetheart.” Gareth provides in the least helpful moment he’s ever been to Eddie, confirming he had, indeed, used a fucking pet name while speaking with Steve.

“How did he take that?” Jeff is softer, no longer following the initial taunting route he seemed to be heading down, likely sensing Eddie’s unraveling.

“I don’t know, I think I blacked out.” He speaks into the pillow, muffled, before he drops it into his lap and stares blankly at the wall.

“Well, me and Jeff’ll be there tomorrow. We can try to prevent any catastrophes within our capabilities?” Gareth smacks Jeff’s leg, who nods in agreement, and Eddie sighs and throws himself back into the studio sofa.

The next day, they get to Bridgestone Arena early enough to grab snacks and not run into too many people who recognize them before filling into their suite. Eddie settles into his seat, comfortable with the temperature now that he knows how to dress for a game. 

The teams eventually make their way to the ice, and Eddie zeroes in on Steve until he skates into the Blackhawk’s box after the anthem.

This time around, Eddie manages to follow a good deal of what’s happening. He’s learned a lot about the game since his first attendance, and he finds it easier to track the puck now than it had seemed previously. He watches as the Preds make an early goal, how the Blackhawks are quick to respond by securing their own point. Watches as a play goes sideways, and a Blackhawk player ends up flipping over another player, then lays on the ice in just the right position to know something is wrong, that he’s hurt.

Play doesn’t stop for long, and when things pick back up, Steve takes the ice. Eddie snaps his fingers between Jeff and Gareth once before he’s on his feet, cheering. The boys join him, and soon, most of the Arena is giving Steve a standing ovation. Steve, though, is facing the direction of Eddie’s suite and gives a little salute before dropping into position, ready for the puck to hit the ice. 

~~~

When the backup forward goes down, Steve springs to his feet from inside the visitors box. An attempt at goal had drawn everyone near the Blackhawk’s net. A Predator had dove for the puck, and things went south fast. Watching from the sidelines was like watching in slow motion, as the med staff checked in on everyone involved and eventually carted the forward off the ice to be evaluated.

Behind him, the coaches evaluate their options as Steve checks his laces and lifts his helmet before tapping the coach's arm.

“I got this,” he promises, settling the helmet over his head and securing the cage over his face. With just a moment of hesitation, the coaches agree and Steve skates to center ice.

He bends down, waiting for the Predator’s forward to join him in their wait for the ref with the puck, but cheers erupt from one end of the arena and slowly, the noise wraps around the room. 

Steve straightens to look around, taking in who exactly was cheering. Fans in both Blackhawks gear and Predators are standing together, cheering and clapping. He glances around, confused before he notices a few of the players on both sides of the ice are also clapping toward him. That’s when it clicks, that all the noise is for him. 

He turns to where the cheering originated, zeroes in on the curly hair over a jersey with his number on the sleeves and he can’t help but grin. Steve gives a little gesture in Eddie’s direction, before skating back to the center ice with the Predator’s forward.

“Welcome back, Harrington.” The other forward says, just as the ref drops the puck and the game picked back up.

~~~

The Blackhawks don’t win the game, but it feels like the cement is drying around the memory in his mind as he showers after the game. He’d played well, even scored a goal, but the Predators manage to get a buzzer-beater in at the last minute after tying things up near the end of the third. But the cheering when he stepped back out onto the ice was an experience he’d never forget.

Eddie texts Steve the address to a brewery in East Nashville, and that’s where he and Robin head as everyone else makes their way into the city. 

Upon arrival, Robin b-lines across the parking lot for the door, but Steve spots a thin trail of smoke that catches his attention. He follows it, smiles when it turns out to be exactly who he expected. Eddie’s propped up against the side of the building, foot resting flat as his back against the wall behind him, smoking a cigarette.

“Kinda figured I’d find you at the end of the smoke trail.” Steve teased softly, catching Eddie’s attention. 

“Looks like I’ve been caught, then,” Eddie laughs, and takes a long, final drag from the cigarette before putting it out into the ash urn. He blows the smoke away from Steve, and keeps a smile on his face. “Wanna grab a drink? I had the guys order appetizers, but we can get real food, too, if you want?”

“I actually….” Steve hesitates, and Eddie raises his eyebrows. Steve considers dropping it, just agreeing to go inside and eat and have a good time with everyone. But then Eddie’s face softens into a little smile and Steve’s chest warms. “Fuck it. Do you want to grab dinner tomorrow? Just the two of us?”

Eddie visibly blue screens. There’s no emotion on his face as he watches Steve before him for a moment, then breaks out into a grin. “You asking me on a date, Harrington?”

“I am.” Steve nods, grins back at Eddie, watches as he twists a curl around his finger and pulls it in front of his face, twisting his body so his arm is propped against the wall, facing Steve head on.

“I think I would like that, yeah.” Eddie agrees. Steve smiles, feels like something has lifted between the two of them, and holds his hand out. Eddie tangles their fingers together and lets Steve pull him into the brewery.

Robin seems suspicious as they enter, but drops her interest as they sit at the end of the table across from one another, sipping on beers and munching on nachos and mozzarella sticks, chatting about the game and the new music the band is recording. 

And if Steve manages to keep his composure when Eddie hooks an ankle around his own under the table, it’s because he’s an adult and not a high schooler tripping over his own feet to impress the guy across from him, and totally not because he knows the entire rest of the table would have a field day if he got flustered by the littlest touch.