#Lindsey Pierce | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

meazalykov · 24 days ago

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after the storm is when the flowers bloom

lauren james x uswnt!reader

summary: you were proven wrong about her

warnings: "enemies" to lovers, angst, swearing, long chapter (4.7k words), happy ending of course

in 2022, the hum of wembley stadium rang in your ears, the cheers of over 70,000 fans vibrating through your chest.

you could feel the weight of the moment—the united states women’s national team facing england in a friendly that felt anything but friendly due to many things. political history being one of them.

this carried the intensity of a world cup match.

you’d been playing as a defensive midfielder for years, your positioning and timing honed to perfection. you’ve been at gotham for a couple of years now, joining when covid stopped the world for a period of time.

in the game against england, the 54th minute ticked onto the scoreboard, and england were pressing hard. their midfield was relentless, georgia stanway was orchestrating their attack with precision.

she was dangerous, but you knew her style. aggressive yet predictable. she wasn’t going to break through you easily.

georgia picked up the ball and drove toward the edge of the box. you tracked her movements, your instincts kicking in. the moment her touch was slightly heavy, you seized the opportunity. you lunged forward, sliding into a perfectly timed tackle.

the ball ricocheted off your boot, rolling cleanly toward lindsey, who was already pivoting to start the counterattack.

at the same time, georgia crumpled to the ground, clutching her ankle as if you’d taken a crowbar to it. the crowd roared, some booing, some gasping. you stood up, your face a mix of frustration and disbelief.

it was clean, you knew it was clean. you’d felt the ball, not her.

the referee hesitated, her whistle hanging loosely in her hand. from the corner of your eye, you saw georgia writhing on the ground, her teammates gesturing angrily toward the official.

“you’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered under your breath. shaking your head, you turned to jog back to your position.

that’s when it happened.

you barely had time to register the harsh push before you were airborne. a force like a freight train barreled into your back, sending you sprawling face-first onto the pitch. the impact knocked the wind out of you, your chest and elbows scraping against the rough grass. your head spun, your heart pounding as you lay there for a moment, stunned.

“what the hell?” you thought, pushing yourself onto your elbows. your vision cleared, and standing above you was lauren james. she looked very nonchalant, as if she didn’t care about what she did.

“what’s your problem?” lindsey’s voice sliced through the noise as the ref whistled for the game to pause. the blonde lyon player was sharp and furious. she stormed toward lauren, her usual calm completely shattered.

“you can’t just shove someone like that!”

trinity rodman wasn’t far behind, her fiery temper ignited due to seeing her bestfriend being shoved onto the cold grass.

“are you out of your fucking mind? she didn’t even touch her for you to do all of that!” trinity’s voice was practically a roar, her hands gesturing wildly as she got in lauren’s face.

lauren didn’t back down. “whatever!” she tried to walk away, her voice low but venomous.

you pushed yourself to your knees, still catching your breath. your elbows burned from the scrape, and your back ached from the impact of the shove. the adrenaline coursing through your veins made everything sharper—the noise of the crowd, the shouts of your teammates, the pounding of your heart.

“she hit the ball, not georgia!” lindsey shot back, stepping closer to lauren.

“don’t worry about her, she's just pissed because they’re having a bad game!” you suddenly heard alex whisper into your ear.

“enough!” leah, england’s captain, shoved her way into the chaos, trying to diffuse the situation.

“back off! let the ref handle it!”

the referee’s whistle pierced through the noise, sharp and commanding. she ran into the middle of the commotion, her arms outstretched as she tried to separate the players.

you stayed on the ground for a moment longer, your mind racing. the shove wasn’t just aggressive; it was intentional. lauren had lashed out, and you couldn’t wrap your head around it.

sure, the game was heated, but this was something else entirely.

as you stood, trinity and lindsey turned their attention to you. “are you okay?” lindsey asked, her voice softer now, concern etched across her face.

you nodded, brushing the grass off your navy blue kit. “i’m fine,” you muttered, though your back throbbed where you’d hit the ground.

trinity wasn’t having it. “fine? she shoved you like a damn linebacker! you’re not just letting this go, right?”

you glanced at lauren, who was still being held back by her teammates. she looked carelees, but beneath that, you saw something else. frustration. embarrassment, maybe. it clicked in your mind—she was lashing out because she was struggling.

her touches had been off all game, her passes misdirected. england was losing, and she was frustrated.

“drop it,” you said quietly, making a subtle hand signal to trinity. she frowned, clearly unhappy with your decision, but she stepped back. lindsey hesitated, her eyes searching yours, but eventually she relented too.

you turned and walked away from the commotion, your focus shifting back to the game. the referee called for the match to resume, and you shook off the lingering frustration, burying it deep. there was no time to dwell.

england were still pressing, and you had a job to do.

the minutes ticked by, england growing more desperate with every passing second. they managed to pull one back in the 78th minute, but the united states held firm. the score sat at 4-2 as the clock hit 90 minutes, and the fourth official signaled five minutes of added time.

in the 92nd minute, you found yourself in a pocket of space 35 yards from goal. the ball rolled toward you, and instinct took over. you didn’t think, you just struck it cleanly with the inside of your boot. the ball sailed through the air, curving just enough to beat the keeper’s outstretched hands and slam into the back of the net.

the stadium erupted, the noise deafening as your teammates swarmed you. you jogged toward the corner, a grin spreading across your face.

reaching the edge of the pitch, you threw your arms out in your signature shrug, a gesture so casual it almost felt out of place in the chaos of celebration.

as you turned back toward midfield, you caught the cameras lingering on you, the commentators speculating. you could already imagine the headlines, the social media takes. they’d frame your celebration as a dig at lauren, a retaliation for the shove. they didn’t understand—it was just your thing. it wasn’t about her. it was never about her.

still, as you lined up for the restart, you couldn’t help but glance at lauren. her expression was unreadable, her eyes fixed on the ground. you wondered if she saw it differently. wondered if she thought it was personal. but you pushed the thought away.

the game was yours, and nothing could change that.

however, you were right about the media speculation.

the morning after the game, your notifications were flooded with articles, tweets, and videos dissecting the moment between you and lauren. headlines framed the shove as a grudge match, with some going as far as painting you as a victim of lauren’s frustration.

at first, you ignored it, thinking the talk would die down quickly, but it didn’t.

what started as a niche topic among women’s soccer fans spread further. people who rarely followed woso casually chimed in, turning it into a viral talking point. microaggressive comments about lauren’s maturity and emotional control flooded the conversation.

at first, you tried to rationalize it. you told yourself it wasn’t your problem, that you couldn’t control what people said online. as the vitriol against lauren escalated, it started to disgust you. you didn’t hate her—not even close. she was a competitor, and in the heat of the game, players sometimes did things they regretted. you understood that.

later that night, as you tried to get some rest, your mind wouldn’t quiet. eventually, you drifted off, only to wake up around 2 a.m., your phone buzzing with yet another notification. this time, it was a text from lauren through instagram.

lj10: hey, i just wanted to say sorry for what happened in the game. i was frustrated with how we were playing and took it out on you. it wasn’t fair. i’ll do better with controlling my emotions.

you stared at the message for a moment, caught off guard. most players didn’t reach out like this, especially not after something so small in the grand scheme of things.

you typed back quickly, not wanting to leave her hanging.

y/n.l/n: thanks for saying that. i get it. tough games can bring out the worst in all of us. I appreciate the apology.

her response came almost instantly.

lj10: still, it wasn’t okay. i respect you as a player, and i shouldn’t have let my frustration get the better of me.

you smiled faintly, shaking your head. “respect you as a player” sounded oddly formal, but it was clear she meant it. the conversation lingered for a bit, with her reiterating how sorry she was and you assuring her that you held no grudges.

what surprised you, though, was that lauren kept texting you even after the apologies were over. her messages were lighthearted and casual—a meme about players pretending to be fine after getting tackled, a question about how you stayed so composed on the pitch, even a random message asking if you liked english things.

you replied when you could, but life got busy. the club season with gotham was in full swing, and between training, games, and travel, you barely had time to check your personal messages.

still, you and lauren both issued public apologies, hoping to calm the online storm. hers was gracious, taking full responsibility for her actions, and yours was a simple statement reminding everyone that these things happen in the heat of the moment.

for a while, it seemed like that was the end of it. then, in the middle of the 2023 season, things with gotham started to fall apart. your contract was nearing its end, and negotiations for a renewal weren’t going well.

promises had been made about the direction of the club, but none of them had been kept. it became clear that staying wasn’t an option.

chelsea were one of the first clubs to reach out. their offer was incredible—competitive wages, a clear vision for your role on the team, and the chance to play alongside some of the best players in the world. you couldn’t say no.

when you arrived at chelsea’s training center for your first day of training, the nerves hit you hard. the new colors on your training gear felt surreal, and the sight of players you’d admired for years made your stomach flutter.

among them was lauren.

she was standing off to the side, tying her cleats, but her gaze flicked to you the moment you stepped onto the pitch. her posture stiffened slightly, and she gave you a small, hesitant smile. it was the first time you’d seen her in person since that infamous game.

you smiled back, unsure of what to say. the entire situation felt oddly surreal, and you weren’t sure if she was as nervous as you were or if you were just imagining things.

“hey hey heyyyy,” a familiar voice pulled you out of your thoughts. mia jogged over, her face lighting up with a grin.

“finally! another american on the team besides cat. i thought i was gonna have to keep the whole country on my back.”

you laughed, grateful for her presence. mia was someone you knew from the national team, and her easygoing nature was exactly what you needed to calm your nerves.

training was intense, the pace faster than what you were used to, but you managed to hold your own. still, you stuck close to mia and occasionally sam kerr, who you’d met through her fiancée, kristie.

it wasn’t that you didn’t want to get to know the others, but your nerves were still getting the better of you.

during a water break, lauren approached you cautiously. she held her water bottle in one hand, her other fidgeting with the hem of her training shirt.

“hey,” she said quietly, her voice barely audible over the chatter around you.

“hey,” you replied, giving her a small smile.

she hesitated, then added, “it’s, um, good to see you here. i mean, on the team.”

“thanks,” you said, unsure of how to navigate the conversation. “it’s… good to be here.”

an awkward silence hung between you for a moment before she nodded and walked away, leaving you to wonder if the tension was real or just in your head.

over the next few weeks, you settled into life at chelsea. the team was welcoming, the facilities top-notch, and the football was everything you’d hoped for. lauren, however, remained somewhat distant.

she wasn’t unfriendly, but she wasn’t as chatty as she’d been over text either.

one day after training, as you were packing up your things, she approached you again. this time, she seemed more confident.

“i’ve been meaning to ask,” she said, her tone casual, “are you as good at fifa as you are on the pitch? because some of the girls want to start a tournament, and i’m not going easy on you just because you’re new.”

you raised an eyebrow, smirking. “you don’t go easy on anyone, do you?”

she laughed, the sound light and genuine. “not really. but it keeps things interesting.”

“i’ll take you on,” you said, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “but don’t throw a fit when i win.”

“we’ll see about that,” she shot back, her confidence shining through for the first time since you’d joined.

overtime, beneath the surface, something about lauren james’s attention to you began to feel... different. at first, you thought it was just her being friendly. she was always the first to help you out during training, pairing up with you for drills before anyone else could.

she’d linger near you during team bonding moments at the bar, her gaze sometimes lingering a beat too long.

you’d catch her watching you during warm-ups or across the locker room, her expression unreadable. at first, you brushed it off as coincidence. but then there were the small things—her eagerness to volunteer when you needed something, her insistence on being your partner during tactical sessions, her quick smile whenever your eyes met.

you did not hate it, in fact, you looked towards her a lot to see if she was watching what you were doing.

the moment everything shifted for you came when your car broke down, leaving you stranded. you showed up at training that day after catching a ride with mia, lamenting to your teammates in the locker room about how inconvenient it was.

“you don’t have a car?” lauren asked, her tone casual, though her eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite place.

“not until it gets out of the shop,” you said, pulling your navy colored boots on.

“hopefully, it’s just a day or two.”

“i can pick you up,” she offered quickly, her voice steady but almost too quick. “and drop you off. it’s no trouble.”

“really? i don’t want to bother you.” you hesitated, glancing around at the others.

“cat already said she could do it.”

“yeah, i can,” catarina added, leaning back in her seat.

“you’re literally on the way to here for me.”

lauren shrugged, a hint of a smirk on her lips.

“i’m closer. plus, i don’t mind. i need the extra excuse to get out of bed early anyway.”

you raised an eyebrow.

“an excuse? what am i, your alarm clock?”

“something like that,” she said lightly, and though her words were playful, her eyes stayed on you, searching.

you finally relented, smiling.

“okay, if you’re sure. just don’t oversleep and leave me stranded.”

“promise,” she said, grinning, and you could feel the attention of the room shift as sam kerr’s sharp eyes flicked between you and lauren.

it didn’t take long for sam to figure things out. during another training session a few days later, she pulled lauren aside, her expression tinged with amusement.

“so,” sam began, her australian accent playful,

“you’ve got a little crush, don’t you?”

lauren’s face reddened instantly.

“what are you talking about?”

“oh, come on.” sam rolled her eyes.

“you’re not exactly subtle. always volunteering to help y/n, staring at her during drills while moisturizing your lips. i’ve seen it.”

lauren sighed, rubbing the back of her neck.

“fine. yeah, i think she’s… i mean, she’s gorgeous, sam. how couldn’t i?”

sam’s grin widened. “well, no one’s arguing that. but seriously, what’s stopping you? she doesn’t seem like she’s holding a grudge or anything.”

“the friendly,” lauren muttered, her gaze dropping to the ground.

“i shoved her. it was stupid, and she probably remembers.”

“laur,” sam said gently, “she’s not holding onto that. my kristie was on the pitch that day, and even she said y/n let it go. you should too.”

you, meanwhile, were grappling with feelings you didn’t fully understand. after a few weeks of lauren driving you to and from training, you noticed something had shifted within you.

it wasn’t just her kindness or her easy humor—it was the way you missed her when she wasn’t around. even after she dropped you off, you’d find yourself wanting to text her, to hear her voice again.

one night, you couldn’t keep it to yourself any longer. you called catarina, needing her perspective.

“so, what’s going on?” cat asked after you’d explained everything.

you hesitated, chewing on your lip. “i don’t know. i just… i feel like i want to be around her all the time. it’s weird.”

cat laughed softly. “that doesn’t sound weird. that sounds like a crush.”

“no,” you said quickly, shaking your head even though she couldn’t see you. “it’s not that. i mean, it can’t be. i just saw her a few hours ago, and—” you sighed, cutting yourself off.

“i miss her.”

“y/n.” her tone was teasing now, but there was an underlying fondness.

“that’s literally the definition of a crush.”

you groaned. “don’t tell her. if you tell her, i swear you’ll regret it.”

“i won’t say anything,” cat promised, though you could hear her smirk through the phone.

“but you should think about why you’re so scared of her knowing.”

the next day, chelsea faced arsenal in a tense league match. the score was locked at 1-1 late in the second half when your team won a corner kick. the atmosphere in the stadium was high, the fans roaring as lauren positioned herself to take the kick.

you stood near the penalty spot, ready to make your move.

lauren raised her hand, signaling the play. her brown eyes flicked toward you briefly before she delivered the ball with pinpoint accuracy.

you surged forward, timing your jump perfectly. the header was clean, the ball soaring past arsenal’s goalkeeper and into the back of the net.

the stadium erupted in cheers, your teammates rushing to you in celebration. the energy was overwhelming, the roar of the crowd and the adrenaline coursing through your veins making everything feel surreal.

amid the chaos, lauren was the last to reach you. as your teammates peeled away, she stepped closer, her arms wrapping around you in a hug that felt… different.

the english woman’s strong hands rested lightly on your waist, her grip firm but gentle.

“great header,” she murmured in your ear, her voice barely audible over the noise.

“perfect cross,” you replied, your breath catching as you realized how close she was.

the moment stretched longer than it should have, the world fading around you as the two of you lingered in the embrace. your heart pounded, the realization hitting you like a freight train.

whatever this was between you and lauren, it wasn’t just in your head.

after the game and the post-match interviews were done, the adrenaline was fading, and all you wanted was a hot shower and some quiet.

before you could even step into the tunnel, sam pulled you aside, her expression unreadable, though there was a mischievous glint in her eye.

“so,” she started, crossing her arms as she leaned casually against the wall, “what was that?”

you blinked at her, confused. “what was what?”

“don’t play dumb,” she said, her lips curling into a smirk. “that moment between you and lauren after the goal. everyone saw it.”

heat rushed to your face as you quickly shook your head. “it was nothing,” you said, trying to sound convincing.

“just teammates celebrating a goal.”

sam raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with your answer. “uh-huh. you’re really gonna stick with that?”

“because it’s the truth,” you replied, avoiding her gaze.

“right.” she dragged out the word, clearly not believing you.

“you’re coming to my place after this. kristie and i are gonna have a little chat with you.”

you frowned, trying to protest. “sam, it’s not—”

“don’t care,” she interrupted, her tone cheerful but firm. “see you there.”

you couldn’t wiggle your way out of it. after a quick post-match meeting with the team, you found yourself standing in sam and kristie’s living room. kristie had just finished setting out a plate of snacks, and sam was already sitting cross-legged on the couch, her arms folded as she watched you like a hawk.

“all right,” kristie said, sitting down beside sam. “let’s hear it.”

“hear what?” you asked, feigning ignorance.

“don’t play dumb,” sam said, echoing her earlier words.

“we’re talking about you and lauren. what’s going on?”

you sighed, sitting down in the armchair across from them.

“nothing’s going on. i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

kristie tilted her head, her expression soft but probing.

“y/n, come on. we’re not blind. everyone has seen how you two look at each other.”

“and that hug after the goal,” sam added.

“i’m pretty sure the crowd thought you were about to propose to eachother.”

“it’s not like that,” you said, shaking your head.

“i just… i don’t know. it feels too early to think about it like that.”

sam snorted. “too early? the first time you seriously talked to lauren was what, a year ago?”

the words hit you like a ton of bricks. “wait, that friendly was… a year ago?”

“yep,” kristie confirmed.

“almost to the day. so, don’t tell us it’s too early.”

“fine,” you muttered, slumping back in your seat.

“but what if i’m reading this wrong? what if she’s just being friendly?”

sam let out a dramatic groan.

“you’re not reading it wrong, y/n. trust me. your feelings are not one-sided.”

you opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, your phone buzzed in your pocket. pulling it out, you saw lauren’s name flash on the screen. your heart skipped a beat.

“well, speak of the devil,” sam teased.

“go on, answer it.”

“i—okay,” you stammered, getting up and retreating to the bathroom for some privacy.

closing the door behind you, you took a deep breath before answering.

“hey, lauren.”

“hey,” she said, her voice warm but slightly nervous.

“i just wanted to ask– uh, are you free later?”

“yeah, i should be. why?”

“there’s this italian place in the city i thought we could go to,” she said.

“if you’re up for it. i heard it’s really good.”

your stomach flipped. it was one of your favorite spots in london, though you’d never mentioned that to her.

“yeah, i’d love to. what time?”

“seven? i can pick you up if you want.”

“sure, that works.”

“great,” she said, and you could hear the smile in her voice.

“see you then.”

after hanging up, you stayed in the bathroom for a moment, trying to process what had just happened. when you finally emerged, sam and kristie were waiting expectantly.

“well?” sam prompted.

“she invited me to dinner,” you said, sitting back down.

“at my favorite italian place.”

“your favorite?” kristie asked, eyebrows raising.

“did you tell her that?”

you shook your head.

“no, never. do you think… did you say something, sam?”

sam held her hands up defensively. “wasn’t me. maybe cat or mia?”

“maybe,” you muttered, though the thought made your chest tighten in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

“so,” kristie said, leaning forward,

“you’re gonna tell her how you feel, right?”

you hesitated. “i don’t know. what if it’s too soon?”

“if you don’t tell her tonight,” sam interjected, her tone playful but firm, “i will tell her at training tomorrow morning.”

you groaned, running a hand down your face. “fine. but if this blows up in my face, i’m blaming you both.”

kristie smiled, her expression softening. “it won’t blow up. trust me.”

“just be honest,” sam added. “she likes you, y/n. you’ll see.”

at 6:55, lauren pulled up outside your apartment, her car idling as you stepped out the door wearing one of your favorite casual outfits. the drive to the restaurant was surprisingly easy, the conversation flowing naturally as you talked about the morning game against arsenal.

by the time you arrived, the tension you’d felt earlier had mostly dissipated.

the restaurant was cozy, with dim lighting and the warm scent of garlic and fresh bread wafting through the air. lauren held the door open for you, her hand lingering on the small of your back as you stepped inside.

the gesture sent a shiver down your spine.

“this place is amazing,” lauren said as you were seated.

“i’ve heard so many good things about it.”

“yeah, it’s one of my favorites,” you admitted, smiling.

the meal was perfect—delicious food, easy conversation, and the kind of laughter that made your cheeks ache. lauren was more relaxed than you’d ever seen her, her usual shyness replaced by a quiet confidence that made you feel at ease.

as the night wore on, though, the weight of what sam and kristie had said lingered in the back of your mind. you kept waiting for the right moment to bring it up, but every time, the words caught in your throat.

finally, as dessert arrived, lauren broke the comfortable silence.

“can i ask you something?”

your heart skipped a beat. “of course.”

instead of speaking right away, lauren reached across the table, her fingers brushing against yours before gently taking your hand in hers. her touch was warm, her grip firm but careful, as though she was afraid you might pull away.

your breath caught in your throat as she softly ran her thumb over the back of your hand, the gesture so intimate it made your cheeks burn.

you glanced down, feeling a sudden wave of shyness, but you didn’t pull your hand away.

your breath caught.

“after your goal earlier, did you feel something in that moment between us?”

“i… yeah, i did,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

she smiled, a soft, almost shy expression that made your chest ache.

“good. because i’ve been meaning to tell you something.”

you leaned forward slightly, your pulse racing as she kept a light grip on your hands.

“what is it?”

she hesitated for a moment, “i like you, y/n. i have for a while now. and i know things didn’t start off great between us, but… i really like being around you.”

her words hung in the air, your mind racing as you tried to process them. “lauren, i—” you paused, taking a deep breath.

“i like you too. i’ve been trying to figure out what to say, but… i just didn’t want to ruin anything.”

lauren’s bright smile widened, and she gave a light squeeze to your hand.

“you’re not ruining anything. trust me.”

“good, because i’ve wanted to be your girlfriend for a while now.” you boldly admited.

“oh really?” lauren smirked, teasing you as she gave a light kiss on your knuckles.

“yes, really.”

“so, am i your girlfriend now?” lauren teases.

“yes, am I yours?”

“you are, my sweetheart.”

masterlist

#lauren james #chelsea fcw #chelsea women #sam kerr #woso fanfics #woso community #woso x reader #catarina macario #woso soccer #woso appreciation #kristie mewis #cat macario #mia fishel

177 notes · View notes

johnnyutah · 8 months ago

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average lindsey perez fan: i love lindsey perez i’m such a big fan of the character lindsey perez

average matt gibson fan: i literally would eat garbage out of a dumpster

average ezekiel banks fan: holy shit i just finished spiral what a good movie what the hell!!! what a cool addition to the saw universe! i bet everybody else loves this as much as i do! let me take a big drink of water as i check tumblr dot com to see all the nice things people will have to say about darren lynn bousman’s Spiral

average william schenk fan: my hobbies include: being a fujoshi,

average cecelia pederson fan: [pic of cecelia yanking on the metal loop around her neck and smirking] https://docs.google.com/document/d/e/2PACX-1vT3f5IIzt5PG-M7G9_Z-gjY4gZaiUneTdMlYrFAcdBGcJo0-N-RDQcj2JfxOaBTxKa6J_DiDQNgqVpg/pub

average logan jigsaw fan: What people don’t realize about John, is he’s such a genius that even when he makes mistakes, he planned on making the mistakes. He is the greatest villain of all time

#logan jumpscare #saw #this took me maybe too long to write #tag yourself !

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deadtired-highkeyenergetic · 4 months ago

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Leave

We interrupt your usual program of Astarion to bring you Aemond Targaryen, my newest obsession. (song listened to while writing this is Shatter Me by Lindsey Sterling)

You spot your lord husband staring out the window at the city beneath. It's quieter than usual, the usual bustling of merchants now a whisper and fewer lights flicker in the dark. The city knows war is about to break out in full force soon, the common folk speak of it in hushed whispers, and you can feel the tension in the air.

"Aemond," you call out softly, announcing your presence as you make your way over to him. He remains silent, still looking out the window even as you settle beside him.

He's never like this, the rumours might be true after all.

You're not sure what to say, you don't even know what exactly happened at the Small Council today but you have an inkling of what went down. You'd seen Queen Alicent scowling as she briskly walked out of the room, Ser Criston Cole hurrying alongside her, heard the other members mutter something about your lord husband, their prince, and give you harsh glares. Concerned and furious, you'd searched for Aemond, only to be denied entry into your shared chambers by his guards no matter how much you tried to force your way in before storming off to the godswood to cool off.

You'd waited and waited until nightfall before approaching your shared chambers once more, and now here you are, right next to him and still he refuses to see you. You play with your sleeves anxiously, wanting to know what had happened but at the same time wanting to give him the space he needed.

"My pri—"

"Aren't you going to leave me too?" His words come out harsh, like arrows that pierce through your heart.

"Leave?" You ask, confused.

"Did you not hear me clearly the first time?" He snarls, features twisting in fury.

"Why would I leave you?" You reach out to touch him but he slaps your hand away, eye narrowed.

"Because I'm a monster who wants war, a kinslayer who wants to kill the rest of my kin, a bloodthirsty prince who—" The rest of his words get caught in his throat. Tears prick the corner of his eye but he swallows the urge to break down in front of you. His throat bobs as he lifts his head high, just like his mother always taught him to. Show no weakness, lest others take advantage of you.

"You're none of those." You shake your head. "You're a prince who wants to protect those he loves, you see the threat looming over their heads and want to remove it as soon as possible, you're my dragon prince who just wants to see those he cares about safe, and that's why I fell in love with you."

He snorts, pushing you away. "Lies. All of them."

Still you persist, your fingers gently brushing against his arm and he flinches slightly. He chews his bottom lip, hesitantly lifting his eye to meet your gaze. You hold the connection, resting your hand on his forearm. This time he doesn't move.

"I would never leave you." The tone of your voice leaves no room for argument and for a moment, Aemond is taken aback by your ferocity. Then he gives you a small smile, resting his hand on top of yours. His thumb runs over your smooth skin, feeling the size of your hand against his, feeling the warmth that resides in it.

You're still here. Even after everyone has left him.

His lip trembles, struggling to hold back the dam that wants nothing more than to burst forth. His throat feels tight, his smile wavering and then you pull him into a hug, burying your face into his chest.

You're all he has left.

His arms wrap themselves around you, holding you tightly as he presses his lips against the top of your head. Tears start to roll down his cheek silently, with him biting back the sobs that clog his throat. He doesn't want to show such weakness in front of you, and yet you always manage to coax it out of him.

Gently, you lead him to your shared bed, cradling his face between your palms, your thumb wiping his tears away. Your soft lips press against his, a quick peck before you slip the eyepatch off, and then another kiss on the sapphire sitting in his empty eye socket.

"If the world was ending, I would want nothing more than to be next to you."

The words are but a whisper, spoken within the walls of your shared chambers for no one but him to hear, and are more than enough to shatter the dam. Your dragon prince weeps, sobs wracking his slender frame and tears stain the fabric of your clothes. You continue to cradle him in your arms, your heart aching with each cry that spills from his lips.

His fingernails dig into your sleeves as he clings onto you like you're his lifeline while you run your fingers through his silver-gold hair. You feel him lean into your touch, almost keening. He needs you just as much as you need him, he needs you to be there to catch him when he falls, to be the shoulder for him to cry on, to be the only witness to his weakness.

You patiently wait for him to let it all out, sitting in silence until he lifts his red puffy eye to meet yours. He swallows, letting you coax him into lying down and buries his face into your chest.

You smell nice, like home, like comfort, and he knows he's secure in your arms. Just for tonight, your roles are reversed. You're his shelter, his haven, and only in your arms does he allow his walls to come down.

"Promise?" He asks, his voice thick with sorrow. He sounds so small, so vulnerable, nothing like the prince he is outside of these doors.

"Promise." You nod. He sighs, relaxing against you and places a palm on your cheek. You rest your hand on top of his, keeping it there as your fingers intertwine, connecting the both of you.

"I won't ever leave you too," he whispers, letting his eye close.

"I know, my dragon."

#hotd #hotd x reader #hotd x y/n #house of the dragon #aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you

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grits-galraisedinthesouth · 2 years ago

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More Photos

Photos

Who was Harry with for 1 day & 3 nights in Istanbul, Turkey?

April 22nd (night)

April 23rd (day & night)

April 24th 2015 (night)

Harry arrived on April 22nd 2015

Charles arrived on April 23rd 2015 & attended a banquet without Harry

April 23rd 2015: No engagements for Harry

April 24th 2015

Full day of events for both Harry & Charles on April 25th 2015

Harry departed on April 25th 2015

Meghan is Afraid of her April 2015 visit to Soho House in Istanbul, Turkey

No surprise Meghan has been reading Tumblr since 2015-2016. She also interacted with us via Twatter under her many aliases in an effort to grow her squad.

Netflix allows comments on the Teaser and Trailer. Keep in mind that this is a woman whose mission is to criminalize any criticism of her. She views criticism as harassment and believes she is a champion for "digital justice" to shut down our freedom of speech.

Netflix deleted only 1 of my many comments on the Teaser:

"Meghan and Harry were both in Istanbul, Turkey in April of 2015."

I replied to a reply w/details which were immediately deleted

Another reply asked "is this true?"

I provided the details, and they were erased

Finally in dawned on me that Meghan & her people were monitoring the Netflix comments section and that I hit a nerve.

Meghan does not want their April 2015 Istanbul, Turkey trip to get mainstream media coverage.

#Soho House #london #London Tennis #Official Date in London #Pierce Morgan #Gina Nelthorpe Cowne #Violet #Lindsey's girls w/Lucy #Greece to Heathrow #eddie redmayne #Istanbul 1st date #turkey #how we met #the hook up #markus anderson #misha noono #frauds #meghan markle is a liar

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novamariestark · 8 months ago

Note

Hiiii ☺️☺️

I’ve got an Alden Parker x reader request idea if you’re open to it! Basically the team is working a case where they end up interviewing an older woman as a witness (older than Parker) who clearly thinks he’s handsome but he politely stays professional (we know Nick would tease him for it). But later he ends up meeting her granddaughter and this time he’s the one that starts flirting with her despite the age gap.

A Tale Of Two Flirts

Summary: When interviewing witnesses, Alden finds himself in an awkward position when one of them starts flirting with him. But later on, he finds himself flirting with her granddaughter, you.

Warnings: quite possibly the worst thing i've written 😂 and I know I say that a lot.

Word count: 2777

Fandom: NCIS

Pairing: Alden Parker x f!reader

[A/N] I know this is bad, 😂 I’ve literally been working on this for like 2 months and every time I thought I’d finished, I restarted it because I just thought it wasn’t good enough. There isn’t that much flirting in here like the request asked and I hope that’s okay, it’s just that I flirt like a potato.

You may say to yourself, “Nova, potatoes can’t flirt,” Exactly 🤣

And the title is shitty too, I’m so sorry. But right now, I get started and I think I’m on a roll but then my brain’s just like “Haha bitch, just kidding”

Hope you like it though

The wooden steps creaked slightly under their weight. As they approach the door, Alden raised a hand to knock firmly against the wooden door.

Knock knock

The faint hum of a television could be heard from inside but the sound immediately disappeared and the sound of footsteps replaced it.

Alden took out his ID as the door flew open, revealing and older woman, early 70s, with bright blue eyes and slightly greying hair. He holds it up to her and Nick behind him, does the same thing, “Good morning, ma’am, I’m Special Agent Parker and this is…”

The woman smirked and leant on the doorframe, “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,”

A snort from behind him made Alden turn around and glare at the owner of the sound. He turned back to the lady.

"So, you saw the whole thing?" Alden asked, his brow furrowing slightly as he tried to steer the conversation back to the case. The witness he was talking to, a woman in her early 70s with silver hair and piercing blue eyes, seemed more interested in him than in answering his questions. Every so often, he could hear a snicker or a snort from beside him, where his partner Nick Alvarez sat, struggling to maintain a straight face.

“If only I did,” the woman said with a coy smile, her voice low and seductive as she leaned in closer. Alden's face turned a shade of crimson as he stole a quick glance at Nick, silently begging for help, but Nick was too busy trying to stifle his laughter.

"I was referring to the homicide, Mrs. Walsh," Alden explained, his voice maintaining a sense of professionalism even as a blush started to appear on his cheeks. Mrs. Walsh responded with a mischievous wink before replying…

“It’s Ms. Walsh,” she corrected him, her smile widening into a grin.

“Ms. Walsh," Alden corrected himself quickly, "Did you see who did this to Petty Officer Lindsey?” He asked, hoping to keep the conversation on topic. Ms. Walsh leaned back in her chair, her eyes narrowing as she thought.

She shook her head, “By the time I made it to the window, it was all over. I heard a lot of yelling and screaming,” she replied. Alden and Nick continued to ask her questions and each of her answers included a flirty compliment in some way or another.

Just as the two agents began to walk away, the older woman spoke up again, "You know, dinner might make me feel better. What are you doing later?" she asked, giving Alden a sly smile.

Alden laughed nervously, again looking at Torres for help but he just smiled and walked away, “Probably solving the case, Ms Walsh,” he said politely and excused himself. He walked down the steps of the porch and headed towards Torres.

“Thanks for your help there, Torres,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his tone, “I really appreciate it,” Torres just shrugged with a smirk on his face.

The team headed back to the Navy Yard to continue the investigation. Over the course of the day, Alden had suffered at the hands of Torres’ endless teasing. He thanked God that he drove over with McGee and not Torres, although his luck ended as soon as they all got into the elevator.

“So, Parker, when’s the special day?” Nick asked with the childish grin on his face, as if he’d just asked what he was getting for Christmas.

Jess and McGee looked at each other, with confused glances. Of course, they didn’t know what was going on, they weren’t there when it happened and Nick kept quiet in the car ride over here, wanting to save it until he was in the same room as Alden, and everyone else was around to hear.

“Wait, what special day?” Tim asked for both him and Jess.

Nick slapped a hand on Alden’s shoulder, his grin getting wider, “Parker’s getting married,”

“What?!” they exclaimed in unison.

“When did this happen?" Jess added, a confused look crossing her face. Two questions went through her head. How on earth did she not know her boss was getting married? And how did Torres keep his mouth shut about it?

Torres was about to speak, but Alden cut him off, “It didn’t,” Alden ran a hand down his face before continuing with the real version events and not Nick’s “There was just a witness that showed a… particular interest in me,”

“She wanted to see all of it” Torres continued, emphasising the word all, to convey that the woman desired to see Alden in his entirety.

“I take it you didn’t help him out?” Tim asked Torres. thinking he probably didn't. Why was he even asking?

Torres shook his head, “Of course not, it was funny,” he looked back to Alden with a smirk and asked, “Can I be best man?”

Alden scoffed, “No,” he said as he turned towards the door as it arrived at their floor.

Unfortunately for Alden, this continues throughout the day. By the end of the day, he felt like someone had been whacking his brain repeatedly with a hammer. He couldn’t wait to solve this case, go home and relax. Preferably before he gave into the urge to get out his gun and shoot Torres with it.

***

You met him on Saturday, when he came over to your grandmother’s to ask her if she recognised the suspect or if she’d seen her around.

You had arrived the day before after work and you were shocked to find the house next door was an active crime scene.

It being a Friday, you were headed to your grandmother's for the weekend. But as you walked from your car towards her house, you noticed her neighbour’s house covered in yellow police tape. “What the hell happened?” you asked yourself, your heart raced as you took in the sight before you. Your eyes widened as you noticed the broken window and the red stains smeared across it that you could only think of being blood. And considering the police tape, it wasn’t that much of a stretch.

The chill of the evening air nipped at your skin as you approached the scene, the flickering streetlamp casting eerie shadows on the ground. You pulled your coat closer to your body, hoping to shield yourself from some of the cold of the night or maybe the sight in front of you.

You couldn’t look at it anymore, so you continued on your way. The first thing you asked was if your grandmother was okay. After she reassured you that she was, you asked what happened.

She started to talk to you about what happened and how her neighbour was murdered and she was telling you everything she knew but somehow, for some reason, she began talking about something completely different.

A man. And it seemed that he had made quite an impression on her. So much so that you actually wanted to erase the last 5 minutes. The last thing you wanted was to hear your grandmother explain to you, in detail, all the things that she wanted to do to this man.

The next morning wasn’t any better. She began by telling you that she had a “lovely dream”, and she “hadn’t had one in so long”. You almost spat out your cereal at what she was hinting at.

“Gross, really?”

“Don’t be such a prude, how do you think I had your mother?”

You shuddered in disgust just as the doorbell rang and you couldn’t get out of your chair fast enough. You rushed over to the door, noticing two figures standing outside through the translucent glass.

As you opened the door, the two figures become clearer. Surprise briefly flashed on the face of the one lurking in the background before a smirk began to form. The one in front was looking down, fiddling with some papers.

“Sorry to bother you Ms Walsh,” he started as he continued, rummaging through the pages, “We just need you to look at some photos see if…” he stopped as he looked up at you, the words dying on his tongue.

Who is she? He thought. He looked to the side of the door at the number. 242, well he had the right house.

“Are you okay?” you asked him, he looked thoroughly confused.

“Yeah, sorry, I wasn’t expecting a beautiful woman to come to the door,” he stammered out, which you thought was cute but then again, was he calling your grandmother unattractive? He seemed to know what you were thinking and quickly corrected himself, “Not that your grandmother isn’t but y-you are,”

Realisation hit you. This was the agent that your grandmother was telling you about. When he turned around presumably for help from his partner, you took that time to check him out to see what the fuss was about.

To say you didn’t enjoy the sight in front of you would have been the biggest lie you told since you told your math teacher that you couldn't do your homework because your pet goldfish had a midlife crisis and decided to swim away with all of your textbooks.

Your eyes quickly returned to their previous position when his head began to turn back towards you.

“She’s just in the kitchen,” you said, lazily gesturing over your shoulder, “Do you want to come in for some coffee?” you asked them with a smile.

Alden opened his mouth to reply but his partner beat him to it, “That would be great, thank you,” he said passing Alden but not without patting him on the back. Alden followed you through the door, gently closing the door behind him and then following you towards the kitchen. As he did, he lingered behind, his eyes tracing over your figure, he was so lost that he almost let out an audible groan but your grandmother caught sight of him.

“Oh, Agent Parker, what a wonderful surprise,” she greeted as she came into the little dining area. Her hand patted her hair to make it look as good as possible.

Alden cleared his throat before responding with a nod, “Uh yeah, we just had some photos for you to look at,”

“I’ll help in any way I can,” she smirked, fiddling with the neckline of her shirt. You groaned, your face hiding itself in your hands.

Alden smiled awkwardly before placing the pictures on the table, spreading them out so each photo could be seen, “Do you recognise any of these people?” he asked, mainly to your grandmother because she was the one who lived here.

Your grandmother leaned in, purposefully close to Alden as she studied the photos. Your discomfort was evident on your face as you looked away momentarily, your eyes landing on the other agent. He seemed to be enjoying his partner’s discomfort and evidently yours.

Your eyes moved back to the photos when your grandmother said that she didn’t recognize anyone. Your eyes skimmed the photos and you did in fact recognize a few people in them, albeit slightly due to the quality of the pictures and the fact that they look like they were taken in the dark.

Your finger tapped the one closest to you first, “This is Jade, Sarah’s former college roommate and best friend,”

Alden scrunched his eyebrows and turned to look at you, “Are you sure? I know the pictures aren’t great,”

You pointed to the handbag that the figure was holding, “That is a Louis Vuitton. Jade got it a couple of months ago and she couldn’t wait to rub it in everyone’s faces,” Your fingers then hovered over the other picture, “This one is strange because it looks like Jade’s ex-boyfriend, Connor from college. They broke up because of her obsession with Sarah’s boyfriend,”

The two agents exchanged glances as if you had just given them a piece of the puzzle but that was ridiculous right? Jade was a stuck-up bitch, but she wouldn’t kill her best friend for a man… would she?

“Thank you,” Alden said, his eyes returning to you for as he began to pick up the photos. You notice how his gaze seemed to always linger on you, a little longer than his partner or your grandmother. She, of course, noticed this too considering she wouldn’t stop undressing him with her eyes.

After he collected everything, him and his partner slowly walked towards the door with you close behind to escort them out. They opened the door but stopped on the porch. Alden seemed to want to say something and it looked as though he was trying to talk himself into it.

“I hope you get who did it,” you smiled softly.

“We will,” the younger agent promised as he began to walk down the steps but stopped when he realised Alden wasn’t following him.

“There’s a uh… pastry shop, not far from here I want to try, do you know if it’s any good?” he asked finally after a couple of minutes of silently arguing with himself. Another argument started about how lame that starter was.

“Sugar & Spice Delights?” you asked with a small smile on your face, you nodded because you actually frequent there, “Uh yeah, it’s a great little shop, ask for Rhea and tell her (y/n) sent you, she may give you the friends and family discount” you said with a smirk.

“Or maybe you could accompany me,” he replied without missing a beat. His eyes closed and his head dropped. Why was he messing this up so bad?

You made a sound as if you were thinking about it and what come to mind was the fact that your grandmother seemed to like him a lot and it seemed wrong to say yes, no matter how much you wanted to, “Oh umm,” you paused looking over your shoulder when you heard footsteps approaching. Your grandmother of course and you were starting to feel bad, especially when she started to look at you disapprovingly.

“If you don’t say yes, I am going to have to disown you,” she said, causing you to lean slightly away from her, your eyebrows moving up towards your hairline.

You turn back to Alden with a small smile that only seemed to get bigger when you uttered the word “yes,”

Alden was beyond happy that you said yes, but also really surprised, especially considering the age gap. Over the course of your next few dates, you kept reassuring him that his age was anything but a concern for you, in fact it was kind of a turn on. In fact, you used the word experienced.

A month into your relationship, he wanted to show you just how experienced he really was. And he really was experienced. He knew exactly where to touch you at the right moment to have your toes curling and reaching for things that weren’t even there.

Pretty soon, after all your date to the little bakery, Alden qualified for the friends & family discount even when you weren’t there, much to the delight of his team. You got to meet them properly three months in which is exactly how long it took for Torres’ teasing to die down.

You were immediately bombarded with questions about you and what was Alden like outside of work, although, they mostly referred to him as Parker. Alden had told you about the teasing that Nick had put him through about you and your grandmother and he even asked if she was still interested in him, so you decided to have a little fun with him.

“Well, she always did have an eye for quality,” you said with a smirk, he was about to reply with some silly remark, but you beat him to it, “You should probably take notes, maybe you could learn something,”

Tim and Jess were in stitches, Alden was stifling his laughter but his amusement was evident by the smirk on his lips.

Once he got over the initial shock of what you just said, he walked over and held his hand out for you to shake, “Well played,” he said as you put your hand in his.

Pretty much after that, you became one of them. You and Nick actually got on really well and aside from Alden, he was the one you spent most time with and occasionally Victoria when Jimmy and Jess needed some alone time.

But most of your spare time was spent with Alden either on cute little dates, or tangled in the sheets and each other’s limbs or as you called it… Heaven.

#female reader #reader insert #alden parker #alden parker x reader #alden parker imagine #ncis #ncis x reader

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horrorknife · 7 months ago

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its pride month and i love having a million lgbt headcanons. Let's go bitch. enter my beautiful home and listen to the wonderful words i have to say to you. or don't i don't really give a fuck this post is chiefly for me. i have deeper explanations for most of these also.

adam stanheight

bisexual transmasc genderfluid

any prns (pref. for he/it), she/her use is permission based

pre-top (he lives in a shithole and has no health insurance), inconsistent T. probably does DIY hrt. rarely binds.

lawrence gordon

gay transfem bigender

he/she

eventually goes on E but she is REPRESSED AS HELL

convinced he's cishet during the events of saw (2004). i firmly believe he carries a purse.

amanda young

pansexual transmasc agender

it/she/he/they

top surgery, no desire for T

i think she would get a cool coverup tattoo over its top scars <3

mark hoffman

gay trans man, gray aro

he/him

top surgery, T. STEALTH. (kerry + rigg know)

full name marcus. angie helped choose it.

lindsey perez

pansexual transmasc genderfluid

any prns

microdosing T, binds on occasion

prefers dressing masc

peter strahm

bisexual transneu nonbinary

he/she

HEAVILY repressed and closeted. knows his gender is wrong but the idea of being anything other than cis is scary as hell to him. insists he's cis.

regularly wears tights under his slacks for the Feeling. wears panties. got a vasectomy in college and thought that was normal (it was dysphoria). is usually wearing mascara.

allison kerry

lesbian trans woman

she/her

top surgery, E

stealth (hoffman, rigg, and matthews know)

she and hoffman went to the same surgeon. ("where's kerry?" "who do you think took your boobs?")

daniel rigg

bisexual transneu nonbinary

he/him

past one night stand w/ hoffman. they don't talk about it

he and tracy are in a sapphic relationship. to me.

jill tuck

gay transneu nonbinary

she/her

no i don't think she's cishet. jill tuck is our shegay queen and you need to put some fucking respect on her name. she's like if a DILF was a MILF.

important to add that she and lawrence are good friends + she helped crack his egg.

john kramer

bisexual (CANON!) transneu nonbinary, ace + gray aro

they/them. dead serious. will accept he/him if you must but this is the stone cold truth.

you can't get on the "saw traps as a trans allegory" train if youre not willing to look at john kramer as trans too.

he's got the same vibe as antlers holst from nope. one pierced ear and long skirts for comfort type beat.

brad and ryan

they're a set don't separate them.

both of them are gay.

ryan: transmasc genderfluid, he/she/they. pre top, T for 5 years

brad: transneu nonbinary, he/they

happy pride. this is what goes on in my head. i only included my favorite characters here, these are the ones that take up most of my brainmeat. so. anyway this was really fun :-)

#jonah.txt #sawposting #sawtism #TELL ME YOUR HCS. NEOW

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plutosmusicbox · 3 months ago

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Album Showcase: Collide With the Sky- Pierce the Veil (2012)

Contributing Artists: Pierce the Veil, Kellin Quinn, Jason Butler, and Lindsey Stamey

Release Date: July 17, 2012

Genre: Post Hardcore, Emo

Runtime: 46:06

Favorites: Hell Above, King for a Day (Feat. Kellin Quinn), Props & Mayhem, One Hundred Sleepless Nights

#album showcase #music discovery #pierce the veil #2010s music #collide with the sky #post hardcore #emo

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woso-fan13 · 2 years ago

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Baby Bunny

You plopped onto a bed in the middle of the group, landing on your stomach. Reaching over to steal a cookie from an open packet, you feel someone grab your hips. Accepting your fate, you allow the hands to pull you up and into a lap. You look up to see Emily, who tries to shift you to be cradled in her arms.

“Em, no, I can’t. I can’t regress or I won’t be big for practice tomorrow.”

You can’t ignore the look of heartbreak on her face when you don’t call her ‘Mommy.’” But you knew what she was trying to do and as much as you wanted to relax, you couldn’t.

“Shh, baby,” she coos in a voice that alone could cause you to regress, “calm down. Mommy’s got you. You just need to be little.”

You try to wiggle out of her grip, fighting your drop hard. Your cookie falls out of your grasp, Lindsey brushing it aside and sitting in front of you. She grabs your wrists in one hand, her other cupping your cheek. She could see the tears beginning to drop from your eyes and she knew that she had let you go too long without dropping. She leans forward, planting a kiss to your hairline.

“Relax, sweetheart. There’s no practice tomorrow, but we have something else planned. You can stay big if you want to, but it might be more fun when you’re little.”

You become slack in Emily’s arms, gasping shaky inhales. And then an infantile cry pierces through the air. Emily stands with you in her arms and begins pacing the room. Your head is buried in her neck, searching for any possible comfort. Lindsey rushes around, gathering a clean diaper and a onesie for you, as well as grabbing your pacifier and comfort blanket from the dresser.

The others could hear your cries through the wall. They knew that- after you had some sleep and love- you would love the surprise tomorrow.

—-

You’re on your belly when you wake up, whining to let your mommies know that you woke up. Strong arms pick you up and pull you into a warm body. You relax for just a few seconds before you realize that these aren’t Mommy’s or Mama’s arms. You take a big breath to start wailing before you hear a familiar voice.

“Whoa, there, sweet pea, you’re okay.”

You look excitedly up at the voice, your unfocused eyes trying to look at your Aunt Mallie. You babble happily at her, giggling when she scrunches her face up at you. She wasn’t one of your moms, but Mallie was the next best thing.

You allowed her to quickly change you and pull your pajamas back on before you start fidgeting. She laughs as you try to alligator roll away, catching you before you end up on the ground.

She ends up settled in the bed, propped up against pillows as she cradles you. You're happily suckling away at your baba, playing with and twisting the ring on her finger. Eventually, your bottle was gone, you were burped, and you were left simply staring at Mal through hazy eyes. She would be quick to admit, this was one of her favorite ages. You were an absolute cuddle monster, you never talked back, and you could be entertained by her tapping your belly every few minutes. If she had her way, she would have kept you wrapped up with her all day.

But the door soon opened, two familiar figures entering. When you hear their voices, you start wriggling, babbling a ‘mamama’ sound repeatedly.

Their eyes meet, silently cursing. They had let you go so long without regressing, they knew that you were going to be young. They just didn’t expect you to be that young. You weren’t even at an age where you could really appreciate the surprise. But what’s done is done, and they just had to move forward and hope that their surprise included enough non-choking hazards.

—-

You were feeling slightly older by the time you and your moms got to the field, now just over a year. You were walking between them, your hands firmly gripped in their own. They didn’t trust your balance enough to keep you upright and they didn’t need a meltdown.

You look up from your feet to see your friends, letting go of your moms’ hands and excitedly toddling towards them. Luckily, Alex scooped you up into her arms before you managed to trip over your own feet.

“Look at that, I caught a baby bunny. Hi baby bunny!” She greets you, tipping you back. You squeal, your hands gripping tightly to her shirt. She laughs, and hands you over to your Mama when she reaches for you.

You try to snuggle into Mama, but she stops you. Pouting, you begin to try again when she pulls you away from her body and sets you on the ground. You are so close to throwing a tantrum when Mommy steps in, pushing something into your hands.

“Alright, kiddo, today’s a very special day,” you look at her, focusing on her words, “it’s Easter, which means we had a very special visitor last night. Do you know who?”

“‘Unny!” you shout excitedly. That was an easy question.

“Well done! And the bunny left us lots of eggs, so we need to go find them.”

Emily hadn’t even finished explaining everything to you before you took off at a rapid stumble to find eggs. Deciding to follow your lead, your moms grab your hands and allow you to pull them around on your search for the brightly colored plastic eggs.

The rest of the morning was spent at the field, everyone enjoying the fresh air and the lazy sun. They all happily sat through multiple tours of your Easter basket and allowed you to babble brightly. Kelley took to chasing you, laughing as you would toddle a few steps. When you started getting wobbly, she would grab you from behind and swing you through the air. Your giggles rang loudly through the stadium.

At least a dozen phones captured videos and photos of the excitement. Videos of your shrieking laughter and your happy shouts were shared, and pictures of your facial expressions were laughed and cooed over. It was certainly a memorable holiday.

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