#a whole week is unusual but we’re trying new things

[nerdierholler]

Y’all, I love pollinators. Love talking to people about them. Like being able to spend time outside talk to people about nature. However, I am ready to not stand under a tent in 90+ degree weather for multiple days in a row for several hours each day. We’re being safe, going inside when we need to, drinking lots of water etc but I will be happy when I’m back to mostly being indoors again.

[obsessedhoneycomb]

Heating pads

Max Verstappen x fem!reader

Summary: Your good time in Portimao being interrupted by your endo flare up again.

Warnings: endometriosis, cramps, love and care, infertility and baby talk

A/N: Wrote this last night and I poured into it some of my personal experience with endo, more this time. Surgery worked a little for me, it gave me a three months without cramps. Every body is different, every treatment works differently for us. But we’re in this together, endo sisters!

For @amberjazmyn 🧡

Don’t use my writings without my permission! Pictures found on Pinterest.

———

The weather at Portimao circuit wasn’t so pleasant as it was nearing the end of the year. F1 season was long gone and Max was able to finally avert his attention to his other hobbies (not gonna mention it’s still racing, but for his kinda own team).

Meeting with all the people around Verstappen.com Racing was a great one, especially with Thierry Vermeulen, because he was so funny, but humble at the same time.

You were always amazed how Max was so good at handling his many duties and hobbies at the same time. He was a great mentor, passing his legacy and wisdom and you watched how his temper calmed down a little through the years.

It wasn’t long ago when you moved to his apartment at Monaco, making your relationship more official after three years of being there and nowhere, between your job and his races. One day you decided enough is enough and you didn’t want to face your life alone anymore. That stirred some rumours through his fan base and also your parents weren’t able to hold back in their questions about you two starting a family. Truth was that you and Max weren’t exactly against having children, but the main problem was your endometriosis. Severe pain episodes, ending in ER may times, being neglected by doctors, saying it’s only in your head and that you need to sleep it off. You thought, for so many years, that you’re just insane, but after Max got through one of your endo flare ups with you, he got you through many doctor appointments, to the best specialists in the field, where you finally heard your diagnosis.

The surgery date was set after the new year’s, when Max would be still around to help you get back on your feet and mend your wounds with his love and care. But to that date your body just decided that you need to suffer.

You stood in the garage, watching how Max talked with the engineers and Thierry about some issues, his yapping always getting more and more interesting, when you felt a cramp in your lower back. It wasn’t unusual, you always had similar, and you brushed it off as some kind of back pain, most likely from standing for too long.

Watching Max racing at the empty track was always fun, he gave it his all, enjoying his time and it made you genuinely smile. But now you were pale, your forehead getting a little sweaty, same as your whole body. Feeling the need to sit down, you understood immediately, when the pain shot through your abdomen, pooling at your right side, that stretching burning sensation ghosting to your lower back. Trying to play it cool, you swallowed hard, smiling at everybody around.

About two hours later, Max was done with the testing, leaving the car to Thierry and he went to look through some performance reports, when he spotted you sitting at the bench, having that weird expression on your face like you were trying so hard to hide something, but failing miserably.

“Hey, love.. are you okay?”

His hand went to your cheek and you quickly shot him a look full of pain. He knew that look, seeing it more frequently in past weeks.

“Come here.” Without further words, he grabbed your hand and led you through the corridors to your car outside, where you had your things. Sitting you in the backseat, he quickly went to the trunk, rummaging through his bag, coming back after a while with some packages.

“Max, it’s okay, I can manage it.” You tried to protest but he dismissed you.

“Let me take care of you, I’m prepared.” Sitting beside you at the backseat, he opened both packages, shaking the contents a little with an approving hum. Heating pads. Your eyes went wide with surprise, but then your face softened, your eyes nearly welled with tears.

Warming his hands with the pads a little, he carefully lifted up your hoodie along with your top, to get to your bare abdomen, placing one pad under the waistband of your pants and the other at your lower back. You were always taken aback, how he remembered the location of your pains, where it hurts the most. After he was sure he placed pads securely, he pulled down your top and hoodie.

“Does it feel good?” Cupping your cheek, he had a concern written all over his face and you just nodded. With soft hum, he wrapped his hands around you, getting you closer to his chest, holding you tight against him, making sure you’re comfortable.

“Thank you, Maxie..” your sweet murmur made him smile, your hands hugging his warm and huge body like a teddy bear, the heating pads bringing you comfort you needed.

“Anything for you, my love.. I would go to the end of the world if it meant for you to be in less pain.” Max kissed your temple softly, letting out a soft sigh.

“You’ve done so much for me in this case, I don’t know how I deserved this.”

“You deserve the world, darling. And those pains.. I would do anything to take it on myself instead of you. I hate to see you contorted by it. Packing those heating pads it’s less than I can do for you, to make it easier.”

“You really changed my life, Max.”

“Oh, baby. You changed mine. A lot. I wasn’t this happy like I am beside you. I never forget that moment you smiled at me at that coffee shop in London, because you absolutely stole my breath.”

You chuckled softly, but the slight shot of pain made you wince a little.

“Can you please rub my back a little? It helps also..”

Max just nodded, sneaking his hand under your top, his warm hand rubbing the heat into your skin slowly and gently, making you relax more.

“You know, when we bought this car back then, I thought that it will be different action we’ll be doing on the backseat..” his voice was laced with teasing, trying to make you smile.

“Well.. I thought so too, but I can’t even imagine doing it right now.”

“No, love, I didn’t mean it like that. You’re in discomfort and never in the right mind I would try to make a move on you like this.”

Max liked being intimate with you, your chemistry being something undeniable when you two got to bed, but he respected you and your body. He would rather not have sex with you for weeks than to cause you pain.

“I know, I know, sorry. But we can try after I’m healed from surgery. And there can be a little miracle after. Like we talked many times before. Little Verstappen tapping around.”

It was true happy smile he saw on your face in a while. His heart skipped a beat at the idea of having a baby with you.

“Sure, whatever makes you happy, love. And whatever doesn’t cause you pain.”

His soft lips kissing your nose in the most lovely way was something only you could see. To the world he was that unbeatable lion on the track, dominating champion. But with you he was a caring, loving boyfriend, who would die for you in every way possible.

[matchaelette]

here's an idea! jungkook teaching ash to box!! imagine how cute it'll be, he'll keep praising his girl and said girl will actually shock him w her skills hehehe

GIF by @jung-koook

when you want to learn boxing and jungkook’s method of teaching it leaves a trail of butterflies in your stomach

summary: idol!jk and oc!ash, established relationship, shoutout to anonie, their idea explains it all <3 it’s pure, unadulterated love and we’re just here for the vibes, as we generally are in my drabbles.

genre: fluff

warnings: does jungkook being disgustingly in love count?

word count: 1.9k

notes: kim seokjin is back homeehehehehehehe and namjoon welcomed him playing a saxophone— I missed them so. so. so. much. happy 11th anniversary to our found family guys <3

it was one of those rare days.

having the air conditioner turned on just a short while ago, the air around jungkook feels hot and suffocating. for a whole minute, he contemplates knocking over the glass of iced latte over the countertop and letting it soothe his sweltering skin.

it has probably been less than thirty minutes since he woke up, today being one of those rare days he woke up to your kisses instead of good morning texts. he rolled out of bed in a hazy bliss, brushed his teeth, put on a t-shirt, and waddled his way into the kitchen to make breakfast for the both of you while you decided to go downstairs to check the mail.

now, he’s standing over the stove with a spatula, patiently waiting for the pancakes to cook and not letting his impulsive thoughts win. it was one of those very rare, and quite unusual days, where both of you had the morning off together. he didn’t want to waste even a single second doing unnecessary things without you, such as, perhaps, cleaning the coffee he voluntarily spilled. he’d rather—

but jungkook is broken out of the reverie when he hears a click on the door.

“jungkoooookie! the boxing gloves are here!”

if the click on the door wasn’t enough, your amped-up voice certainly was, to break his train of thoughts.

the door shut behind you with a loud thud— the same thud that you’ve told your beloved boyfriend plenty of times not to make— echoing through the whole house (tell me jungkook. is it so hard to close the door gently or do you just like the sound?). one of your hands is holding onto a glass of iced latte jungkook made for you just minutes ago, sipping it with a straw and another one is secured around a huge white package clutched onto your chest. but jungkook stares at you instead.

you’re wearing one of jungkook’s baby blue oversized shirts, paired with the same black boxers he carelessly tossed on the floors last night, hair swept up into a messy bun. fuck, did you actually wear his boxers downstairs? jungkook suddenly felt himself burning up and he was sure the scathing heat of the day had nothing to do with it.

“kook, hello? look! the boxing gloves are here!”

jungkook, once again distracted by his train of unholy thoughts, blinks when you spin gracefully and land in front of him with a princessy curtsy. the action makes him break out in a wide smile unknowingly, and he suddenly realizes the source of your uncontained glee.

“the boxing gloves are here?”, he asks you, his smile is a literal ray of sunshine. a few weeks ago, jungkook dragged you to one of his boxing training sessions, and it somehow piqued your interest, even though you never really gave it much thought. you were like that, always trying new things and tossing them away as soon as you got the hang of it, floating from one thing to the next like a butterfly. maybe that’s why people played you too. loving you way too easily, discarding you even more easily, just as you begin to love them back.

jeon jungkook didn’t. the thought never once crossed his mind.

“yeah! c’mon let’s open it!”

“give me a second, princess. the pancakes will go up”

“just so you know, I ordered a pair for you as well”, you tell him, making your way to the living room couch.

“really? but babe, I already have way too many”, jungkook follows you soon after, carrying a plate stacked with pancakes, topped with berries and peanut butter just the way you like it. he sets the plate on the side table and sits beside you.

for a brief moment, jungkook’s face fills with confusion.

“yeah but you don’t have—”, you rip open the package, “—this one!”

then he throws his head back in laughter.

the boxing gloves you are holding up triumphantly are black in color, snug and thick and padded with patent leather, perfectly normal, until you notice the white patch covering the area from the knuckles to the wrist— a blonde kim seokjin, mouth stuffed with ramen, face contorted into a totally ridiculous expression.

“see? isn’t it amazing?”

“oh man, holy shit”. jungkook doubles over in laughter, hitting his own thigh repeatedly in the process, “oh my god, where did you find these?! this is absolutely gold!”

“I have my ways”, you flash him a wicked smile, “I knew you’d like ‘em!”

“like them? I am never taking these off!”

“look at my one!”

second wave of laughter hits jungkook when he sees your comparatively smaller boxing gloves. it’s the same black ones as jungkook’s, with the same white patch in the middle but this one portrays a young park jimin in the iconic red bullet concert, eyes smeared with black eyeliner and lips pouting in an ‘ayo’.

“I told you it’s amazing!”

jungkook just laughs uncontrollably, unable to form any coherent sentences.

“I was looking for one with you on it but unfortunately they were all sold out”, you snicker, attempting to put on the gloves and try them out.

“fortunate for me”, jungkook’s laughter is unstoppable, “man, I gotta show these to the hyungs. immediately.”

“after you teach me to box! c’mon c’mon c’mon!”, you spring up from the couch, hopping your way to retrieve one of jungkook’s punching bags, in the corner of the living room where he usually keeps his gym essentials.

“princess”, jungkook’s laughter subsides, and he grabs onto you immediately, “not now. after breakfast.”

“naaaaur—”

“after breakfast”, he says, a stern look in his eyes. and there’s no room left for any arguments anymore.

“but I don't want to defend!”

“babe, you can’t just attack people, you have to defend yourself too!”, jungkook exasperated.

“now, tuck your arms”. jungkook instructs you but then proceeds to bring your arms up to your chin and tuck them by your side himself. “stepping forward would help you initiate a very powerful jab. and stepping backward would help you create a distance between you and your opponent, so it’s the best immediate defense. continue moving back and forth to maintain a powerful stance.”

“okay. which foot stays forward again?”

“keep your feet shoulder-width apart. you’re right-handed, so your right foot stays backward.”

“right foot points at two o’clock, right?”, your focus is solely on your boyfriend, trying your best to follow through with whatever he’s saying. jungkook just wants to kiss you.

“yeah. bend your knees slightly.”

“no no no, not that much— unless you’re getting on your knees for me?”

“jungkook!”

“okay okay! you’re perfect”, jungkook moves a few inches backward and flashes you a mischievous grin, but can’t help being proud of you. he didn’t even have to tell you much and you were already in a perfect stance, certainly much better than him when he was starting out. “now have a go at me. I wanna see your strength. then I’ll teach you the different punches.”

you take position, but hesitate. “okay— how hard am I supposed to hit exactly?”

“huh?”

“could you punch me and show me how much strength i’m supposed to use?”

“really?”, jungkook looks offended but amusement fills him.

“yes! I just want to know if I should go all out or keep it light.”

“you want me to punch you?”

“oh my god, you’ll survive not being a gentleman for five seconds, jungkook”, you say impatiently, “now punch me!”

jungkook, unsurprisingly, doesn’t do what he’s told. instead, wraps his arms around your waist and smashes his mouth against yours, swallowing your surprised squeal with a smirk. in a flash, your head spins and you lose your balance into an abyss of delight. jungkook knows you all too well and presses you against him when you try to grab his shoulders out of reflex (don’t you know he’d never let you fall?) but fail because of your glove-cladded hands. your lips taste sweet and savory, the peanut butter and berries combining into a deadly experience he’s not sure his heart could handle.

yet he never hesitates to steal your breath.

when jungkook lets you go, it takes you several minutes before you can talk. or think.

“what are you doing?”, you whisper.

just what he’s wanting to do… always.

“i’m never gonna learn boxing this way”, you sigh.

“what way?”, jungkook’s breathing is heavy but the smirk on his face says a million other things.

“this way you’re—”, you shake your head and peer blearily, “wait, what was I saying again?”

“c’mon princess, you don’t need me to punch you. just land a punch on me. give me your best shot.”

you mouth an ‘okay’ and fall into stance, as jungkook instructed. “is this okay?”

“good girl”, jungkook teases, which has you losing your focus for a second. but then, you shake your head and direct your shot at his abs, self-instructed.

the punch lands hard and square on him, causing the doe-eyed boy to stagger several steps backward, gripping his abdomen with clear astonishment.

“babe! did you really hit me?!”

“wha— you told me to!”

“I didn’t expect you actually would!”

“what did you expect?”, you’re nonchalant but the redness creeping up your cheeks isn’t, “i’d kiss you senseless after you asked me to land a punch on you?”

jungkook dramatically collapses on the floor, shaking violently with fake coughs. you snort at his antics and offer your hand to your boyfriend to help him up but he doesn’t give you the chance— he grabs onto it and pulls you down. the unexpected gesture throws you off balance and you land directly on top of him. you yelp, but jungkook doesn’t even flinch. he quickly secures his grip around you, making sure not an inch of your body touches the floor or gets hurt.

“jungkook! you—”

said jungkook cuts you short, gently pressing his lips against yours, once again making you forget time and space. what were you planning to say? however, he doesn’t give you any time to think— moving away from your lips and peppering your entire face with kisses. you burst out into giggles and jungkook sighs with satisfaction— that’s it, that’s the smile he’s so helpless in love with.

“is this your idea of teaching me boxing?”, you put your hands on your boyfriend’s chest, lifting yourself up and sitting beside him.

“that was the reward of a punch excellently thrown.”

“oh, you gotta be kidding me. are you planning to reward me after every punch?”

“that’s a very good idea. but jokes aside babe, that was one heck of a punch”, jungkook beams at you, propping himself up on his arms.

you laugh.

“okay, remember when you couldn’t take piano lessons from yoongi oppa because he wouldn’t stop praising you? that’s exactly where this is going.”

“I mean it! that was a really, really solid punch, I did not expect that at all!”. oh, but he did. he has an unbreakable confidence in you that he wished you had in yourself.

“what can I say? you’re being a very good girl”, he winks.

“kook, you're a terrible teacher! you shouldn't flirt with your students!”, you scold him.

“forget what a teacher does. i’d rather do you instead.”

[redroomreflections]

Hotel California | Track 11: Ignore The Noise

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha Romanoff, frontwoman of the punk rock band Velvet Rebellion, falls hard for a woman she believes is too good for her. Their intense relationship unfolds in the chaotic world of rock 'n' roll, where they struggle to balance fame, personal demons, and their undeniable passion for each other.

W/c: 5.8k

Chapter 11/15

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Note: another week

18+ Minors DNI (mature)

Themes: love, fame, sex, drugs

"Alright," Natasha muttered, angling the phone’s camera. The faint ping of Instagram Live starting echoed in the otherwise quiet studio. She leaned back against the armrest, her knee bumping against yours as she adjusted the frame. "Do I look okay? Or do I look like someone who hasn’t slept in three days?"

"You look fine," you replied with a soft laugh. "More than fine, actually."

"Good answer," Natasha smirked, her lips quirking up before she turned her attention to the screen. "Okay, we’re live. Let’s see who’s actually bored enough to join us."

Within seconds, the chat began to flood with messages, hearts bubbling up on the side of the screen. Natasha’s username was pinned at the top, and her followers started pouring in like clockwork. You could almost swear half of her fanbase had been waiting for this, the comments streaming so quickly they were nearly unreadable.

"Hi, everyone," Natasha greeted with a quick wave, her smile easy and relaxed. "I don’t really do this whole Instagram Live thing much—I think this might be my second time ever—but here we are. We’re at the studio. Everyone’s left, so it’s just us."

She leaned back against the couch, her knee brushing against yours as she casually scrolled through the comments. "And, as I mentioned on Twitter, we’ll answer a few questions. Maybe play some music, too, if you’re lucky."

You nodded and adjusted your position, scooting closer to her so you’d both stay in the frame. "Key word being maybe," you teased, glancing at her with a playful smirk.

"Yeah, yeah," Natasha rolled her eyes, though her grin didn’t falter. She passed you the phone to give you the first pick of questions. She tapped a beat against the notebook resting in her lap. "Alright, let’s see what you’ve got for us."

You used your phone as a reader and silently tuned into Natasha's Instagram. The chat exploded with questions, some straightforward, others ridiculous. Natasha tapped a particular question asking about Carol, and you nodded. That was one you could skip over for the time being. You momentarily leaned against her shoulder as you scanned the endless comments together. The whole thing felt unfiltered, casual—the moment that made her fans adore her even more. Of course, you both knew it was meant to be lowkey PR. It's nothing unusual but also a gift to the fans.

"Okay, first question," You began, reading a comment aloud. "natalialovesshaw: 'How has the new album recording been?'"

"Oh, it's been fun," Natasha hummed, a small smile on her lips. "I don't want to sound cheesy, but it's been an incredible experience. Everyone in the studio was amazing. We recorded songs with a few special people on the track. I think you guys will like our first single. It's releasing in a few weeks."

"And, if you guys want," you said, raising your head, "she'll give us a sneak peek."

"Don't tempt me," Natasha quipped, a soft laugh escaping her lips. She playfully rolled her eyes, turning her attention back to the comments. "Let's find a good one. velvetlover29, what is the creative process like for me?"

You grinned and glanced up at her. "That's a great question. What is the creative process like for you?"

"You know," Natasha shrugged, her tone light and playful. She tilted her head slightly, the light catching her face in a way that made your breath hitch. "I don't have a step-by-step guide to write a song. There's no formula. I usually have a melody in my head for a while. Put pen to paper. Scrap that and try again fifteen times until I have a semblance of a song. Of course, Wanda and the rest of the band help write. They bring so much star power. It's interesting. "

"It is," you nodded, a soft smile on your lips. You studied her as she spoke, her green eyes focused on the phone in your hand. A few heart emojis littered the comments, and you couldn't help but smile.

Natasha looked back at you, a curious brow raised. "What?"

"Nothing," you shook your head, biting back a laugh. "I think you're cute."

Natasha scoffed, though a smile still lingered on her lips. She nudged your shoulder, her gaze turning back to the screen. "You're lucky we're live."

"I know." You grinned, turning your attention back to the stream. You spotted another question, your eyes flickering to her briefly. "Oh, I've got a good one. What is it like having Y/N around all the time?"

Natasha rolled her eyes. "It's great," she deadpanned, though a hint of amusement remained evident in her tone. "We're having a blast."

"We're living the life," you hummed in agreement, a smile lingering on your lips."Oh, this one is for me. How have your industry experiences shaped your values or beliefs?"

You paused for a moment, pursing your lips. "It was different, that's for sure. I went to a good school. I did everything the average person would do, except I had a job as a background singer. A job I got through my father's connections. Which people haven't failed to bring up to this day. So, I think I have always wanted that privacy aspect. But, it's difficult when the world wants a piece of you."

"They certainly do," Natasha mused, her lips quirking into a grin.

"But, I think my experiences have taught me to be resilient, honest, and kind," you continued, your gaze flickering from the comments and back to her. "I want to work with people that respect me. And I want to continue to live a life I'm proud of."

"And are you?" Natasha asked, her voice low. Her eyes met yours; her brows knitted together.

"Am I what?"

"Proud," Natasha replied. "Of the life you live. Of yourself."

"Yes," you murmured, swallowing hard. The sincerity in her tone caught you off guard, and your cheeks grew warm. "Of all of it."

"That's good then," Natasha nodded. "We have several questions asking about Isabella."

"That's interesting," You leaned back against the couch. "She's turning ten very soon. She's great, though." That was all you were willing to answer about her.

"She is," Natasha smiled. She cleared her throat, her attention turning back to the screen. "Alright. Any more questions?"

"I think that's a good note to end," you said. Your eyes scanned the comments, and a few people asked for a sneak peek of the new single. "But we do have something else. One last thing before we go."

"I think I know what this is," Natasha smirked. "Fine. Just a few chords."

"A few," you agreed.

Natasha grabbed the guitar from the side of the couch. She plucked a few strings, strumming them gently as she adjusted the knobs. A soft tune began to fill the air, the gentle chords washing over you. Natasha hummed softly, her fingers running over the frets as she played the melody.

You watched her with a complete smile on your face. She was in her element, and watching was a complete privilege.

When she finished, she looked back at the screen. "There you go. Our new single is coming soon."

You gave the phone a little wave. "Thanks for watching, everyone."

"See you soon," Natasha chimed in, giving a wave. She pressed the button to end the stream, setting the phone aside.

"That was great," You sighed. "Way less intimidating than I originally thought."

"You really are a shy thing?" Natasha teased.

"No, not shy," You shook your head. "Just not 100% okay with the idea of being perceived."

"Oh, is that all?" Natasha smiled. She rested her hand on the couch cushion beside you. "Sam's a majorly famous football player. How did you handle your relationship then?" The question caught you off guard. Natasha knew well enough that talking about your ex-husband could be a touchy subject. But you and Sam had managed to stay amicable for all intents and purposes. You took a breath, the memory of your past relationship still there but not as sharp as it used to be.

"It was... complicated," you said slowly, glancing down at your hands before meeting Natasha's eyes again. "I mean, Sam’s career was always the center of everything. People were always watching, always judging. It wasn’t easy, but we figured it out, at least for a while. Eventually, I had to come to terms with the fact that our lives were pulling in different directions. We had different needs. But... we’re on good terms now. We’ve both moved on. We were also quite young when we got together. Then we had Bella. Got married shortly after. We're better friends."

"Right," Natasha nodded. She hesitated momentarily, her hand moving a bit closer to yours. "Does this scare you? The idea of us?"

"Not at all," You shrugged. "I knew what I wanted when I first saw you. I knew I wanted to have you. I knew what that came with."

"Good," Natasha breathed. "Because I don't plan on letting go anytime soon."

"Is that a promise?" You whispered, a slight smirk tugging at your lips.

"Of course," Natasha hummed, her eyes flickering between your own and your lips.

"You know, you could kiss me, right?" You suggested playfully.

Natasha grinned and closed the gap, pressing her lips to yours. She pulled back for a second, her thumb caressing your jaw. "You're the one who wanted to wait," she murmured, her lips brushing against yours.

"I did," you agreed, a soft laugh escaping you. "There hasn't been a moment we've been together where we aren't kissing or..."

"Fucking?" Natasha supplied.

"Right," You laughed. "Not that I'm complaining. The sex is great. It's almost been six months of dating for us. We're still learning each other. That's a pretty big deal."

"Yeah, in high school," She snorted.

"I hate you so much," You laughed.

"Oh really?" Natasha raised a brow. "I remember last night you were telling me you loved me. Screaming my name practically." She leaned over you, pushing you to lie back on the couch.

"Mm, I can't remember that," You looked up at her.

"Probably from how many times your head bumped into the headboard, " Natasha rubbed the slightly sore spot. "I'm sorry, baby."

"I'll live," You laughed, tilting your head.

"Good," Natasha smirked, pressing a kiss to your forehead. She brushed her lips against your eyebrow, your nose, your cheek.

"Nat," You said.

"Hmm?" She hummed, her lips grazing your own.

"I love you."

"I love you too," she replied, her voice soft, carrying the kind of tenderness that made your heartache in the best way. Her green eyes flickered with adoration, and a small, genuine smile tugged at her lips.

"I want to do something tomorrow," Natasha said after a moment.

"Oh?" You raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued.

"I want to take Isabella out for lunch," she offered, her voice steady but her expression a little hesitant, as though gauging your reaction. "If that’s okay."

Your heart swelled, the unexpected offer leaving you momentarily speechless. Natasha had taken steps into your world before, but this felt different. Bigger. She had said how she felt about you—plenty of times—but this was something else. This was about Isabella. About your daughter.

"Okay," you nodded, trying to keep your emotions in check even though you were bursting inside.

"I just want to show her that I care about you," Natasha explained, her voice softening further, vulnerable in a way she rarely let herself be. "That I care about her. That she’s important to me, too." She paused. "But only if she’s ready. I don’t want to rush anything."

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the joy bubbling out of you. "Please, if she could have you to herself, you’d be her new best friend by tomorrow," you joked, your voice light but full of warmth. "She’s going to love it. And you."

Natasha’s smile grew, her shoulders relaxing at your reassurance. "Good. Because I want her to know I’m all in. For both of you."

"You better be," You teased, brushing her hair from your face. "I'm all in for you too."

"And, I mean, she already has an amazing dad," Natasha pointed out. "It can't hurt to have an amazing step-mom."

"Step-mom," you repeated slowly, the words unfamiliar but not entirely unpleasant.

"I'm not proposing," Natasha chuckled. "Don't look so scared."

"I'm not," you said quickly. "It's just... I've never dated anyone serious enough to have that conversation."

"Well, call me crazy, but..." Natasha began, a hint of playfulness in her tone, "I'd say the woman I've been seeing for almost half a year and am completely in love with is pretty serious."

"Completely?" You echoed, a smile tugging at your lips.

"Mm," Natasha hummed. She pressed her forehead against yours. "I'm all yours. Forever, if you'll have me."

"Don't make big promises you can't keep," You murmured.

"Who says I can't?"

"No one," You smiled, tilting your chin and capturing her lips. Natasha responded immediately, her lips moving in tandem with yours. You pulled back briefly, a mischievous smile forming on your lips. "But what makes you think I'm so easily won over?"

"I don't," Natasha admitted. Her eyes glimmered. "But I'm a damn good catch."

"Oh, you're something alright," you muttered, shaking your head.

"So, you'll have me?" Natasha asked, her expression softening.

You smiled. "Yes. I'll have you. Always."

********

Natasha had underestimated how exhausting it could be to spend a day with a child. She’d heard the warnings from you—things like don’t let Isabella sit in the front seat under any circumstances and don't allow her to con you into buying anything—, but it hadn’t quite sunk in until she was in the thick of it.

Isabella, on the other hand, was completely enamored. From the second Natasha picked her up, she had chattered non-stop. Asking questions about Natasha's life, music, and the upcoming tour. When Natasha suggested that they spend the day together, Isabella practically jumped with joy. She truly enjoyed Natasha's presence when you'd hung around each other. It was only fair she got to hang out with her, too.

"So, do you like Chuck E Cheese's?" Natasha asked as she drove into the empty intersection. She wasn't up to date on what nine-year-olds like these days.

"I do," Isabella nodded enthusiastically. "But mom doesn't."

"That doesn't sound like her," Natasha smiled, glancing at the young girl through the rearview mirror.

"Oh, well," Isabella sighed dramatically. "She thinks it's too loud and doesn't like Chuck E."

"Well, what does she think about laser tag?" Natasha offered. "I hear they have an arcade at the mall."

"I don't know," Isabella replied thoughtfully. She leaned forward between the seats. "What's laser tag?"

"It's a game where you and several others go into a dark room with guns that shoot out lasers," Natasha explained, keeping her tone casual. "Put your seatbelt back on."

"Fine," Isabella sighed before throwing herself back into the seat. "Can we get my ears pierced too?"

"And have your mom break up with me instantly? I don't think so," Natasha laughed. "Are you trying to sabotage me?"

"Not intentionally, no," Isabella shrugged. "Mom's a cool mom."

"Your mom is a cool mom," Natasha agreed, glancing at Isabella in the rearview mirror. "But even cool moms have their limits. I’m pretty sure earrings are one of those limits."

Isabella pouted dramatically, crossing her arms. "But everyone in my class already has them!"

Natasha chuckled. "Nice try, kid. You’re not dragging me into that fight. Besides, you’ve got plenty of time for earrings. Let’s focus on laser tag first, yeah?"

"Okay, fine," Isabella relented, though her pout lingered. Then, her face lit up. "Can I at least pick the team name?"

"Absolutely. Team names are critical," Natasha nodded thoughtfully, playing along. "What are you thinking?"

"Something cool," Isabella said, tapping her chin like she was deep in thought. "The Dolls."

"Sounds very girly," Natasha said.

"Well, we are girls," Isabella said matter of fact.

"Touche," Natasha laughed.

After a quick stop to grab gas, they arrived at the arcade. The place was filled with screaming kids, and the smell of greasy food lingered in the air. The sounds of games, arcade music, and laughter mixed.

"Oh, this place is amazing," Isabella grinned. "This is the coolest."

"It's alright," Natasha mused, glancing around the room. She turned to Isabella. "Alright. We need a game plan. Stick beside me, and we take everyone out one by one."

"That sounds good," Isabella nodded. "Can you help me with this?" She stood up straight so Natasha could help with the team vest.

"Yeah, of course," Natasha adjusted the straps, tightening them. "There you go."

"Thanks," Isabella grinned. "What's our game plan?"

"Okay," Natasha crouched down, getting on Isabella's level. She tapped the girl's chest. "I'm going to have you be the leader of the team. You have the most important job."

"Really?"

"Yeah, and that's to watch my back," Natasha nodded.

"Got it," Isabella smirked, giving her a thumbs up.

"Great," Natasha stood. "Let's go."

The two played several rounds, and Natasha genuinely enjoyed her time with the little girl. Isabella had endless energy and an infectious enthusiasm for life. Not to mention her maniacal giggles whenever she dodged the other team's laser. By the time they were done, they were both more than hungry. Natasha decided pizza and a salad from the arcade's restaurant would be more than filling.

"So," Isabella said, pressing her pizza in half like a taco. "You and my mom are getting pretty serious."

"We are," Natasha nodded. She took a bite of her salad, swallowing the food before continuing. "Do you think it's serious?"

"Yeah," Isabella nodded, shoving a piece of her pizza in her mouth. She swallowed before speaking again. "My mom's been happy. A lot happier."

"That's good," Natasha smiled. "Was she sad before?"

"No," Isabella furrowed her brows. "Not sad. But things are good for her now. I don't know how to describe it."

"How about you say what you're thinking, and I can see if that's a good description?"

"Okay," Isabella pursed her lips. She looked down, picking at her slice. "I've never seen her talk about a relationship like this. Like, when she's on the phone, she's always smiling. Or she's telling me something about you."

"And is that a good thing for you?"

"I think so," Isabella nodded. She hesitated, biting her lip.

"What is it?" Natasha pressed gently.

"Nothing," Isabella shook her head. She sighed. "Will you be there?"

"When?"

"For my birthday," Isabella explained, her gaze fixed on her pizza. "I want to go to Paris, but Mama says I should save that for when I turn thirteen. So I decided a spa day would be cool."

"Spa days are great," Natasha agreed. "But I think Paris is a wonderful gift for your birthday."

"I've been to Paris before," Isabella shrugged.

"Have you?" Natasha raised her brows.

"Yeah, with Mom and Daddy," Isabella explained. "It was a really long time ago. When I was like two."

"Well, it is a pretty magical place," Natasha hummed. "Of course, I'll come to your party."

"It's in three months. I'll finally be double digits, and Mom will let me get my nails done," Isabella grinned, wiggling her fingers in the air. "Not just painted—like, the fancy kind. Gel or acrylic or something."

Natasha chuckled. "Big milestone. Double digits and fancy nails? Sounds like a big deal."

"It is," Isabella said matter-of-factly, taking a big bite of her pizza. She added, "Mama said I can even invite two friends to come with us."

"That sounds like fun," Natasha said, leaning her elbow on the table and resting her chin in her hand. "Do you know who you're going to invite?"

"Maybe Lenny and Sophia," Isabella mused, her face scrunching up thoughtfully. "They're my best friends, but Sophia sometimes says mean things, so maybe just Lenny."

Natasha nodded, offering a small smile. "It's your day, so spend it with the people who make you happiest."

"Yeah," Isabella agreed, then looked up at Natasha, her expression suddenly shy. "And... I’m glad you’ll be there. I like that you and Mama are, you know, together."

Natasha softened, touched by her honesty. "I am, too," she said quietly. "I like being with her. And I'm so glad I've gotten the chance to know you. I hope that's okay."

"Yeah, she'll finally have someone else to hang out with other than me," Isabella said with an exasperated sigh.

"I don't think she minds hanging out with you," Natasha teased.

"No, she doesn't. I'm the best," Isabella laughed. "But I do have a life of my own."

"So," Natasha leaned back, a smirk on her lips. "Now that you've spent time with me. What's the verdict? Do I pass the test?"

"Let's see how the rest of the day goes," Isabella patted Natasha's hand.

She couldn't argue with that.

******

A week later was the album photoshoot. With most of the tracks fleshed out and ready for post-production, it was time for other things that bands did. Natasha could do without press and pictures and all that other stuff. Cameras flashed incessantly, their brightness like miniature explosions that pierced her vision. She couldn’t pinpoint why they grated on her nerves—maybe it was the performative nature of it all, the forced energy that felt miles away from the authenticity she craved.

The microphone was cold against her hands as she leaned forward, feigning a scream into its mesh head. Equally uncomfortable in their unnatural poses, her bandmates were arranged behind her.

Steve stood by a keyboard angled awkwardly toward the camera, his brow furrowed in concentration as though he was taking the photos. His natural charm didn’t seem to help him here. Tony sat perched behind his drum kit, twirling a drumstick in one hand while resting the other on the cymbal, his cocky grin firmly in place. "I was born for this, Nat," he had joked earlier, though the shine of sweat on his brow betrayed his irritation. Bucky stood slightly off-center, his hands on his guitar as though caught mid-strum. His scowl, however, didn’t seem as performative.

And then there was Wanda, holding her bass with practiced ease, her red hair catching the light. She was the only one who looked remotely comfortable, even enjoying the attention. She locked eyes with Natasha and smirked as if to say, 'Just roll with it.'

Natasha sighed under her breath, her hair falling into her face slightly as the photographer barked directions. "Energy! Let’s see some energy!"

"We are," Natasha muttered, rolling her eyes.

"More! More! You're too stiff!"

"This is a photoshoot," Steve said, his voice tight. "Not a porno."

"Less attitude and more energy!" The photographer shouted, ignoring the jab. He sighed before lowering his camera. Mitch hurried to address the band.

"What can I do to get you guys more comfortable?"

Wanda snorted softly, earning a sharp look from the photographer. "I'm sorry, can we do away with the instruments."

"And this hair," Bucky shook his head. "I got a haircut for a reason. Spiking it up with gel is horseshit."

"Fine," Mitch agreed. "We're paying you guys to have fun, right?"

"Yeah," Tony nodded, his tone flat. "Fun. This is it."

Mitch ignored the comment and addressed the photographer. "Alright. No instruments. Let me just..."

She folded her arms and inspected the band. "Okay, Bucky, go and rinse out your hair quickly. Tony, put the glasses back on. Natasha, let's go ahead and take this jacket off."

"Better," Natasha smirked, pushing her hair from her face. "Wanda, I got you." Natasha began to fix the other woman's makeup, swiping the tiniest bit of lipstick from the woman's lip.

"You guys are excellent," Mitch praised. "Natural."

"It's because we are," Tony shrugged.

"Well, let's make it even more natural," Mitch instructed, stepping back to allow the photographer to start shooting again. "Just relax. Imagine the crowd. The energy. The heat."

"We don't usually do a lot of close-ups," Steve pointed out.

"Let's try this," Natasha asked for a chair for a nearby assistant. She didn't want to seem difficult, but their sophomore album cover needed perfection. "Remember that picnic picture we had?"

"I like this idea," Wanda smirked.

"You want us all on a chair?" Steve asked.

"Just me," Natasha said. She leaned back slightly in the sleek studio chair, gripping the microphone loosely in one hand. The chord snaked from her fingers, disappearing out of frame. Her other hand rested casually on Wanda’s shoulder.

Wanda sat cross-legged on the floor between Natasha’s legs, her bass leaning against her thigh as though it were an extension of her body. She tilted her head slightly, her red hair falling over one shoulder, eyes dark and piercing as she stared into the lens.

Around them, the men completed the picture with quiet power.

"Much better," Mitch grinned. "I like this vibe. This is the album cover. The chemistry you have together is perfect. Sexy."

"It's not sexy," Bucky snorted, adjusting his muscle shirt.

"Then how about passionate," Mitch offered.

"Sure, whatever," Bucky replied.

"Be nice," Natasha scolded.

"Okay, let's just finish this," Steve said.

"Perfect. Perfect," Mitch smiled, her eyes glued to the camera's monitor. "Alright, just a couple more shots, and we're done."

The photographer nodded. "We're wrapping up soon, guys."

"Finally," Wanda muttered, running a hand through her hair.

"Everyone say cheese," Mitch teased.

*********

The buzz around Velvet Rebllion's new album, Rebel’s Anthem had hit a fever pitch. The cover art was plastered across streaming platforms and social media. The usual raw, edgy aesthetic resonated instantly with their fans, and rumors of album features continued to swirl.

“Obvious,” the debut single, had officially claimed its spot on the charts, peaking at number six on Billboard'sHott 100. Playlists, reaction videos, and TikToks set to the rhythm were everywhere within the first twenty-four hours. Velvet Rebellion was once again the name on everyone’s lips—this time with a new name in the mix. Yours.

The streams for the song grew a whopping one hundred thousand in the first day. You tried to ignore the lighting of your phone screen as notifications continued to pour in. Suddenly, everyone wanted to know your name and what you were all about. It was an interesting feeling for people to discover you after so long of being lowkey. You were simply a musician's daughter and a football player's ex-wife. There was no way people were checking for you. But they were. This relationship with Natasha had gained the attention of new fans, and the music was adding fuel to the well-lit fire.

Even then, you still had a 9 to 5 where you welcomed the mundane. You were meeting with colleagues, exploring the PR plan of an actress/singer who'd licked a donut in a coffee shop just two days prior.

"We need to keep a positive image for the film's premiere," one exec said.

"That might be a little difficult," you admitted, flipping through the papers on your lap.

"You're telling me," he scoffed.

"Hey, can I ask you a question?" the actress turned to you, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Of course," you replied, a smile on your lips. "Anything."

"Are you the best for the job?" She asked. "With my publicist having so much publicity herself, isn't it risky?"

"Oh, you're worried that my private life will somehow get in the way of your wrongdoings?" You tilted your head.

"I'm just saying," she shrugged. "It could happen."

"Well, if it does, you have my word. I will not be involved," you assured her, standing. "Because I wouldn't let myself."

"Good," the actress nodded, a hint of a smirk on her lips.

"And, for the record, I've been doing this six years now, so if you have any more questions about my skill or knowledge," You began. "This charity event is good for you. Pet a dog. Shake some hands. Keep your mouth and tongue to yourself."

The meeting ended shortly after, and you couldn't wait to get home. You were about to pack up and call it a day when you received a video. It was from Natasha, and you clicked play immediately. She danced to your song in her kitchen in a tank top and boxer briefs. You watched as she held a whisk, twirling it around and singing into a spoon.

You laughed as you sat down at your desk to watch. You’d hope she wasn’t posting this on Instagram. The camera panned over to Wanda, who was chopping vegetables. Then it zoomed in on her face and her amusement as she continued cooking.

"What are you doing?" She laughed.

"Getting in the zone," Natasha replied, moving closer to her. She spun again, her hair whipping around her. "Can't cook without music."

"Uh huh," Wanda shook her head, a grin on her lips. "Hi, y/n, come get your girlfriend. She's driving me crazy."

Then, the video ended.

You sent Natasha a few laughing emojis back. Gosh, you loved that woman. That's when you opened up your own Instagram. For the past few months, you haven't posted anything about your relationship other than cheeky snippets on stories. It was about time you did something. Of course, the single release was a perfect excuse.

You scrolled through your photo album to find one Isabella had taken. It was of you cuddling Natasha on the couch a couple of nights ago during movie night. She looked completely relaxed and serene as you looked into her eyes adoringly.

You smiled, your finger hovering over the picture. It was a quiet, intimate moment, one of those rare slices of normalcy. The glow of the TV in the background, the way her head rested against yours—it wasn’t just a good photo; it was the photo.

You quickly typed out a caption:

"When your favorite song is also your favorite person. Congratulations on the single release, my love. ‘Obvious’ is out now, and I couldn’t be prouder of you. ❤️✨ #VelvetRebellion #RebelsAnthem"

Satisfied, you hit Post.

Within minutes, the comments started rolling in. Fans of the band—Natasha’s, yours, or both—flooded in with love.

"Omg, y’all are so cute!!! 😍"

"Wait, this is the first time you’ve posted her!!! I’m crying!!!"

"The queen deserves the love. Congrats to Natasha and the band!!! 🔥"

and then Natasha added her comment.

"You're the song and the lyrics 🖤"

And, of course, a flood of emojis followed.

Your cheeks were burning. She was so damn sweet.

Your phone vibrated again with a text from Natasha.

“You finally did it, huh? Are you posting about me now? Bold.”

You laughed, typing back:

“It’s about time. You’re worth the hype.”

Her response came almost instantly.

“I better be. Now everyone officially knows you’re mine.”

You rolled your eyes affectionately. Natasha and her little possessive streak—it always made your heart race.

A new notification popped up—this time a DM from Wanda.

"Thank you for distracting her. She’s been on a high all week because of the single, which drives me insane. You owe me coffee for keeping her in check at rehearsal."

You grinned, firing off a quick reply.

“Deal. But you know you love her too.”

But as you scrolled through the comments and watched the likes climb, the reality of the whirlwind ahead hit you. Press runs, small performances on late-night shows, endless interviews, and the tour planning that would come after—it was only the beginning. Life was about to get hectic, a blur of airports and green rooms, flashing cameras, and sleepless nights. A part of you felt excited, and you couldn't believe it. 

---> next part

[cosmicdream222]

Some of my manifestations from last week (with photos)

Surprise gifts

My bestie A and I regularly update each other with about our daily plan for affirming etc to keep each other accountable. I said I was manifesting VIP treatment, put on some subs and affirmed while I was making breakfast (yes I’m not a morning person and make breakfast at nearly noon 😭)

Not even a half hour later, I received a surprise delivery from Amazon:

My friend L, who lives out of state, sent me food and new bowls for the stray cats I feed, and treats for my cats (Stella & Panini are my cats’ names 😹)

VIP treatment

That evening I worked a brand ambassador gig that I booked only a couple days before. I’ve been avoiding working as much as possible lately lol but this one was nearby and paid well. It happened to be a giveaway event partnering with a local radio station and ended up being fun. One of the radio DJs was there, and me as the sponsor brand representative was given the same level of VIP treatment as the radio DJ! There was an event coordinator who basically did all the work and I just got to stand around looking pretty and getting paid for it. 😭

Gift card

After work I got home and found another package from my friend L with a gift card for me 💕

More cat food

A few days later, my neighbor left a huge box of cat food at my door. My cats are getting more spoiled than me 😂

An air fryer

This one is cool because I specifically wanted to manifest this. I had heard about air fryers for a while now and it seemed like something I would use, but I didn’t really feel the need to buy one. A couple weeks ago I was at Trader Joe’s with my mom and the cashier was saying how much he loooved his air fryer and telling me all the things I could make with it. I decided that moment I would just manifest one eventually, and forgot about it.

So the other day my mom comes to pick me up for a family lunch and she has a huge box in her hands - an air fryer?? She says jokingly “happy birthday” - my birthday isn’t for another 4 months! She said she just felt like I needed one 🤷🏻‍♀️

It’s so cute and I’ve already used it a couple times 💕

Attention from sp

Soo I have this crush-type guy we’ll call D. He’s one of my best friends and we’ve talked nearly every day for 3 years. I can talk to him about anything, including all things supernatural and shifting. We have admitted to having feelings for each other, and even had “online boyfriend” vibes for a while, but we live in different states, and he didn’t want to do long distance. I was sad and anxious about it for a while, but since I found out about loa and shifting, I realized none of it mattered and I could just shift to a reality where we’re together already 😂

Anyway I had become detached and stopped really thinking about him in a romantic way for a while. However, I realized since I basically didn’t care and wasn’t thinking about him, he was becoming distant in response. We hadn’t been really flirty or romantic in a few months, and I hadn’t even talked to him in a week, which was unusual. Although I wasn’t anxious about it or anything, I was still missing talking to one of my best friends. So I just started assuming he would go back to blowing up my phone all day, and I sent him some mental telepathy messages about what I wanted.

Monday morning he messaged me apologizing for being distant. He had been traveling for spring vacation and took a break from his phone. He then basically spent the whole week trying to make up for it, being super attentive, listening to my long ramblings about my void and shifting progress, sending me selfies every day, being more sweet and romantic than he had been in months, and kept telling me how pretty I was 🥰

Losing a follower LOL

This is just a funny one to round out my list. I hadn’t been on tumblr in a bit, and when I went to check my asks, I saw I had 556 followers. I thought “darn I missed the angel number, haha maybe someone will unfollow me so I can get the screenshot.” Not 5 min later when I went to look again, it had happened, and I got the screenshot 😂

(Up to 558 now thank you all 💕)

[tobebbanburg]

I just wanted to imagine a world where Trent writes a completely under-the-radar article for Colin’s hometown newspaper to address the rumours of him being gay without making a big deal about it.

Full article text under the cut:

At 28 years of age, Colin Hughes is something of a late bloomer. After a mediocre start to his career saw Cardiff City relegated to the Championship, the Barry native was transferred to the struggling AFC Richmond, a harsh environment for any young footballer trying to make his mark on the world. But after years of flying under the radar, Hughes is finally making himself known at both national and international levels, and one can’t help but marvel at how far this young man has come.

Hughes’s love for the sport was nurtured from a young age, here in Barry, and despite his recent success it is clear he hasn’t forgotten his roots. The modest yet respectable history of Welsh football is something that Hughes could lecture on at the drop of a hat (and indeed needs to be stopped from lecturing once he gets started), and even his favoured position as a left winger was chosen in homage to Welsh footballing legend Gary Speed, a man who still acts as an inspiration for Hughes today.

“He did wonders for our national team. He was the one who made us all believe that Wales could hold our own against the rest of the world. I don’t think we’d be where we are today without all the work he put in: now that I can, I’m doing my best to continue what he started,” Hughes says.

Hughes’s ‘best’, in this instance, has been to fund a new development program throughout Wales, offering summer bootcamp scholarships to children from underprivileged areas. One can’t help but feel that were Speed still with us, he’d be proud of what Hughes is trying to achieve, although perhaps a little bemused at lending his name to an indeterminable breed of dog that Hughes affectionally refers to as ‘Gazza’.

“Me and my boyfriend got him from the shelter last week,” he says, showing a picture of a large but scrawny dog being embraced on both sides by Hughes and his boyfriend, one Michael Chen. “We got him to celebrate Richmond’s second place in the Prem.”

Buying a dog is perhaps an unusually tame way to celebrate for most footballers, but unusual is rather how AFC Richmond operates these days. Whilst most teams would be disappointed with losing out on winning the Premier League by the slimmest of margins, many often claiming that third place is preferable to second, both Hughes and AFC Richmond are treating their status as runners up with dignity, and no small amount of delight.

“I’m not being funny, right, but if you’d told me a year ago that Richmond’d avoid relegation, let alone make it to second place, I’d’ve said you were full of ****,” Hughes says, then apologises after a gentle reminder not to swear. “It’s gutting to miss out on winning the whole thing, of course, but we’re proud of what we’ve done. And besides, it gives us something to aim for next year.”

Hughes succinctly brings us to the elephant in the room: the recent departure of Coach Ted Lasso. Whilst Lasso himself has always maintained the humble adage that Richmond’s recent success wasn’t wholly his doing, the fact remains that the club have never before performed so well over a single season, nor so swiftly reversed their declining fortunes. One can’t help but wonder what a future without Lasso looks like. Hughes, for his part, remains optimistic.

“Coach Lasso made a real difference. Not just in how we play as a team but in how we think, how we work. That kind of change is here to stay,” he says, before adding, “plus we’ve got facetime and all that **** so it’s not like he’s properly gone. I mean I could call him right now if you want?”

But what of Hughes’ future as an international player? After making his debut for Wales a little under a year ago, and with a surprise win against Uruguay under his belt from April, surely his prospects on the world stage are looking encouraging? With Gareth Bale announcing his retirement, is there a possibility for Hughes to follow in the steps of childhood hero Speed and take over as captain of his national team?

“****,” Hughes says, once again forgetting the request to forgo swearing. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I mean that’s the dream, isn’t it, but I know that any of the lads on the team’d do a great job in the role. Any one of us would bring something different to the job, so who’s to say?”

It’s modest, considered statements like these that give weight to Hughes’s earlier words of change: Lasso may have moved on, but his impact on the team is here to stay. I, for one, cannot wait to see where Colin Hughes takes it from here.

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

4th of July Reruns: Independence Day

Happy 4th of July week to all who celebrate it! I have a couple of old 4th of July themed CS fics that I thought I'd share with all of you, and if all goes well, I'll have a new 4th of July fic to add to Fluffy Fridays this Friday!

Word Count: 2082

Tagging a few people who may be interested (Let me know if you want to be added or taken off the list): @sailormew4 @annaamell @flslp87 @emmateo26 @bethacaciakay 

@ultraluckycatnd @effulgent-mind @ilovemesomekillianjones @kat2609 @brooke-to-broch 

@missgymgirl @galadriel26 @the-lady-of-misthaven @charmingturkeysandwich @jennjenn615 

@laschatzi @kimmy46 @snowbellewells @iamanneenigma @daxx04 

@nickillian  @gillie  @britishguyslover @ginnyjinxedandhanshotritafirst @kmomof4

 @linda8084 @golfgirld @captain-swan-coffee @searchingwardrobes @hollyethecurious 

@laughswaytoomuch  @allyourdarlingswans  @winterbaby89 @facesiousbutton82 @therooksshiningknight 

@lfh1226-linda @tiganasummertree @jrob64  @anmylica @booksteaandtoomuchtv

 @i-will-sing-no-requiem @bluewildcatfanatic @laianely

Summary: This fic was originally posted to my Fluffy Fridays collection sometime around season 6. At the time, it was a "future fic", but now it is more of a slight canon divergence. With the Black Fairy defeated and the final battle won, Storybrooke is enjoying it's happily ever after and trying to make new memories. Emma has some exciting news for Killian.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Independence Day

CS Genre: Future Fic

Spring slowly sizzled into summer—a particularly hot and humid summer in Storybrooke that had Emma grateful that they had indeed decided to stay in the Land Without Magic, a place where air conditioners were a thing.

Ever since the Black Fairy was defeated a few months ago, she and Killian had responded to far more “cat stuck in a tree” or “Leroy double parked in front of Granny’s�� calls than “weird, fairy tale villain intent on world domination just destroyed something” calls.

In fact, they’d had no calls about fairy tale villains.  It seemed Storybrooke had finally settled down into a peaceful, sleepy little town, with its requisite cast of eccentric characters.

It had never been the kind of life Emma had imagined she would lead—sheriff in a small town where everyone knows everyone else, married to her true love and so happy she thought she might die from it.  But though it might not be the life she’d expected for herself, it was a life she loved with every fiber in her being.

Even when Regina decided to institute regular town meetings to discuss town business.  (Seriously, they really were turning into Stars Hollow.)  It was at one such meeting about a month ago, that the whole big production had been decided on.

“Now that we’re not, you know, fighting villains every other day,” Leroy had said when Regina called on him to speak, “I think we need to start participating in normal society things.  The 4th of July is coming up.  Let’s do it up right.  Parade, fireworks, the whole shebang.”

Killian leaned over to Emma.  “Perhaps I’m missing something love, but what exactly is the significance of the 4th day of July, and why would it call for an unusual amount of festivity?”

Emma smirked, so glad to get back to the business of enlightening Killian about the modern world rather than, you know, trying not to die or trying to keep him from dying.  “It’s Independence Day in the United States, which is technically the country we live in.  Lots of celebrating goes on that day.”

He’d, as usual, wanted to pepper her with about a million questions.  Seriously, her husband wanted to know everything about everything.  Usually, Emma dealt with it by telling him to go look it up on the “magic box”, aka Internet, but that wasn’t exactly practical during a town meeting.  Seriously, Regina was as strict about “no talking!” in her meetings as the most demanding teacher. 

“Shhh!,” Emma had said as various members of the town began brainstorming ideas for the best (and, honestly the first) 4th of July Storybrooke had ever celebrated.  “You can look it up later.”

In the end they had decided to go with, as Leroy put it, the whole patriotic “shebang”.  There would be a parade through the main street of town in the morning—complete with the Storybrooke high school band and various prominent citizens dressed in their Enchanted Forest finest.  Emma wasn’t sure exactly what their Enchanted Forest attire had to do with the 4th of July, but she’d long since learned not to question these kind of decisions.  It only led to confusion and headaches.  Oh so many headaches.

(And to be honest, as the meeting was really ramping up, Emma realized kind of vaguely that she’d been having more headaches lately…along with way more nausea at weird times…and moments where she felt faint…and so much exhaustion she felt like she could barely get out of bed some mornings.  Maybe she should make an appointment with Dr. Whale to see what was going on with her, but she thought she’d give it a few more weeks.  After all, she’d been under a lot of stress since….well, basically since she moved to Storybrooke, and these weird symptoms were probably nothing more than her body sloughing off the stress and trying to get used to this strange new phenomenon known as “peace”.)

Anyway, the festivities would continue with a town picnic around noon and then fireworks as night fell.

And so it was that Henry and Killian spread out a blanket on the hill overlooking town on the evening of the 4th of July.  Emma set her picnic basket on the blanket, and then sat down beside it, reaching for the ginger ale she always had at the ready lately.  With a small, secret smile, she put a hand on her flat stomach, both excited and terrified about the news she’d received just the day before.

“And you’re sure we’re quite safe, here, love?”  Killian asked as he sat beside her.  “I must admit to being more than a little uneasy at the thought of the dwarfs setting off explosive devices for our amusement.  It seems like a terrible idea.”

They’d talked about fireworks as soon as they’d returned from the town meeting back in June, and Henry had been amazed that Killian had never seen a fireworks display.  “Are you serious?”  Henry asked.  “You’ve never seen fireworks?  Fireworks have been around for like…ever.  I know they were a thing in the Enchanted Forest.  I saw them in my storybook—during Cinderella’s wedding!”

Killian shrugged.  “Oh aye,” he’d said, “I’d heard of them, of course, but as a slave I’d not had much occasion to observe them.  And then once I’d become a pirate…well, I was far more interested in causing the explosions than viewing them.”

“But fireworks are way better than just explosions!” Henry had assured.  “They’re colorful and sparkly.  Sometimes they have special designs.  Some of them light up the sky, and others are like…little bursts of bright light and sound.  And fireworks displays always have a grand finale and it’s just…I can’t explain it, but it’s awesome!”

“How precisely do they work?” Killian asked.  “One lights a fuse and there is an explosion, aye, that I understand, but how do such explosions result in different formations and colors?”

“They just…do,” Henry said, with a little shrug.  “I don’t know how it works.  I just know it’s amazing.”

“I believe I shall consult Mr. Google, then, lad,” Killian said.  “I find it far preferable to understand the mechanisms of my entertainment.”

Of course he did.  Emma should have known.  It had been two weeks after they’d moved in together before they could have their first family movie night because Killian insisted on researching what movies were, how they were made, how they were projected on screen, and how thin, circular discs inserted in a machine could cause said movies to appear on the “moving picture box”.

Her husband was a full-fledged nerd.  A hot one, for sure, but a nerd nonetheless.

“Yes, Killian,” Emma said, coming back to the present and laying her head on her husband’s shoulder.  “I’m sure everything is totally safe.  Leroy’s got everything organized.  Just relax and enjoy the show.”

“I shall attempt to do so,” Killian said, “but I fail to see how colorful lights can elicit as much excitement as you and the lad…ooooooh!”

Emma giggled as the first firework—a large one that changed color from red to white to blue, lit up the Storybrooke night sky.  Killian looked up at the display in wonder, his eyes wide as saucers, a soft, boyish smile draping his face.

Sometimes she looked up at him and it just overwhelmed her all over again how much she loved him.  Now was one of those times.  She felt the tears come to her eyes, and Killian looked down at her in concern.  As usual, he could sense her moods.

“Is all well, Swan?” he asked in concern, reaching up to catch the single tear that fell from her eye.

“It’s more than alright, Killian,” Emma said.  “It’s perfect.  All of this is perfect.  I just love you so much, and I love our life together, and I don’t know what I ever did to deserve it, but life is just about perfect right now.”

He smiled tenderly, and leaned in to kiss her, but just before their lips connected, another firework went off, and Killian turned back to the light display.  Emma smiled, laying her head once again on his shoulder as Henry wandered off to find Violet and watch the show with her.

The fireworks went on and on, and as they moved closer to the grand finale, Emma heard one of the dwarfs (she thought it was Happy’s job?) start the music.  It had been decided that they would end the fireworks display with the 1812 overture, complete with the big finale coming during the cannon fire in the music.

Of course, as soon as it had been decided, Killian had gone to the library and pestered Belle for any information she could give him about the piece of music.

“The customs of this land are incomprehensible, love,” Killian had said that night as he helped her make dinner.  “Why is it customary for this ‘1812 Overture’ to be played at celebrations of this country’s founding?  The founding did not happen in 1812, but a generation before.  What’s more, the piece was written to commemorate an event that has nothing to do with the United States.  That Tchaikovsky fellow wrote the piece to commemorate the moment the Russians defeated Napoleon in his attempts to take over Russia. (Incidentally, is it only me, love, or does this Napoleon sound significantly like the Crocodile?  Small in stature, lust for power, dreams of world domination…)”

“I really don’t know why the 1812 is so popular,” Emma said as she carefully pulled a casserole from the oven.  “It just…is.”

“And it’s full of nationalistic anachronisms,” Killian had continued.

“What’s full of…what?” Henry asked, filching a roll from the bread dish and sitting at the table.

Emma rolled her eyes.  “Your step-dad was about to explain about all the nationalistic anachronisms (whatever those are) in ‘The 1812 Overture’.”

“Quite so,” Killian said.  “The piece features the French national anthem, La Marseillaise, for example, but in 1812, the song had been banned by Napoleon (the total ponce).  Furthermore, the piece utilizes the Russian anthem ‘God Save the Tsar’ near the end, but it had not yet been written as of 1812.  Not much of a historian, this Tchaikovsky.”

Henry groaned.  “Mom, I think we need to ban him from the library.  I already have to suffer through history lessons in school.  Don’t need them when I get home, too.”

A particularly loud volley of fireworks brought Emma back to the present.

“So, are you enjoying your first 4th of July?” Emma asked.

“It’s been quite enjoyable, Swan,” Killian said, “but then any day I get to spend with you and the lad is.”

Emma’s nerves began dancing within her stomach (or was that just the nausea again).  The moment was just about here.  As soon as she’d learned the news from Whale, she’d decided she’d tell Killian just at the climax of the fireworks show.  She wanted to make this moment special.

She just hoped he was as excited about the news as she was.  They hadn’t talked much about it.  This wasn’t something they’d planned; it had just sort of…happened.  What if this wasn’t what he wanted?

“Anything the matter, Swan?” Killian asked just as the cannon began to boom in the music.

“No,” Emma said, taking a deep breath.  “Something’s actually pretty great.  At least I hope you think it is.  I mean, I do, but we haven’t talked about it and…”

“Swan,” Killian said, looking more concerned than ever, “out with it, love.”

Emma took a deep breath, and then leaned in and whispered in his ear.  “Killian, in about 7 ½ months you’re going to be a daddy again.”

His eyes got round again, as he sat up abruptly.  “A father?  I’m to be a father?  You’re with child?”

She smiled tremulously.  “Yeah, Whale thinks I’m about 6 weeks along.  Are you…are you happy about it?  I mean I know we haven’t really discussed it and this is a surprise and…”

He cut her off with a swift, passionate kiss, his hand moving to rest on her still flat belly.  When he pulled back, there were tears in his eyes.  “How can you even ask that, Swan?  Of bloody course I’m happy.  A baby!  A product of our love!  I do believe my life is now absolutely perfect!”

Emma leaned over and kissed him again, the tears streaming from her eyes as overhead the fireworks celebrated right along with the Savior and her Pirate.

[daphwritesworld]

I don't think I'll ever get over the thought of R getting eaten out in front of the Lionesses because holy fuckkkkk 🤤

The older more confident players like Leah (duh), Lucy, Millie and Mary being app boisterous and vocal while the younger ones like Alessia, maybe Georgia since she's kind of a bridge between the two, Tooney, Chloe etc all transfixed with the sight, all flustered

Give me a fic on that any day of the week!

That would be held over R's head for ages, everytime she's trying to contain her moans and Keira is all "Oh how cute, they know just how big of a slut you are baby. I doubt they'll forget the sight of you riding my face like a desperate little whore."

Oh the thought makes me unhingedddd, honestly. Fair play to the Lionesses because I would not be able contain myself and remain a spectator though Keira wouldn't stand for anyone else touching her girl (or would she? Alcohol works wonders 👀)

Oh thank you and your amazing brain for thinking of that concept because that'll take over my mind for a while 🥵

-🧠

EXACTLY!! the older girls who have know and played with Keira and R for years are not shy about shouting out request and shoving money down R’s cleavage and getting a good grope or two in. they definitely start the whole thing because well if we’re being honest…who hadn’t wanted a piece of R at least one or twice? with how often Keira and her fuck, they’ve all heard her cries and whimpers countless times. it’d more unusual if they hadn’t fantasized about it one or twice…and maybe gotten off to it a few as well..but who said that??

but no seriously it is FOREVER held over R’s head. and it’s such an embarrassing thought for her because she really did act like a slut in front of her whole entire national team. and how does she ever act normal around them again? and now when one of the girls walks in on them….they don’t even leave. just sit down and get a comfy spot for the show ahead. it’s to the point it’s a little game to see who can catch them more— bets and money always involved with these girls. the competitiveness on and off the pitch are at the same high level 🤣

and 🧠 anon pls visit our thoughts and contributions to the already wild new plot line that has evolved with this 😅 bc the alcohol opens up a whole door of debauchery…..

[miss-tc-nova]

A Small Adventure with Dad - Sora x Child!Reader

First off, hope you see this. I tried and failed to @ you.

Second, not gonna lie, I've been trying to write this since the request came in. It's been doing my head in and I rewrote it like 7 times. So I'm sorry it's not perfect, and probably not as fluffy as you hoped. And I definitely didn't do any edit/clean up, but I hope it at least entertains you a little.

Premise: The time has come to save the future

Words: 2,372

~~~~~

               The salty air breezes by, the sky raining warm sunshine down on us. Gentle waves rock the world while we bustle about in keeping Black Pearl sailing ahead.

               One of our men points out over the water. “Land ho!”

               “Land ho!” the rest of us holler out in excitement.

               It’s been a few weeks since I arrived here.

               And I don’t mean “here” by The Caribbean.

               The thing is, I’m not from around here. Where I come from, things are beginning to distort and fall apart. After my father and uncle vanished and my own existence began to flicker, we received a visit from a family friend who was able to point us in the direction of the event causing the chaos. It was tasked to me to fix this mess and with ample warnings not to meddle beyond what was required.

               So far, the hardest part has been finding my way without a version of myself here or losing my body, yet I did. It was sheer coincidence that I happen to run into Sora, Donald, and Goofy shortly after. There was some suspicion, but it pretty much evaporated when they discovered that I had my own keyblade. It’s been a comical series of events ever since. Everyone I meet asks how they know me or if we’ve met somewhere. Alternatively, they’re exasperated at the double chaos known as me and Sora. It’s not my fault we get along so well.

               I know it’ll end and probably sooner than I’d like, but until then, I’m going to thoroughly enjoy the time I have with my new friends.

               I get to work adjusting the sails as we divert course towards the island, singing that silly shanty at the top of our lungs as we have the whole time.

               “And really bad eggs!” Jack stumbles as the ship breeches the shore and goes tumbling over the edge.

               “JACK!” The rest of us run to the edge of the vessel to check on the captain. He simply lays in the sand, coming to terms with the fact that he’s ashore.

               Suddenly, there’s a little jingle. All eyes dart to Sora.

               “Sora!” Donald scolds, flapping his arms frantically.

               “Put it on silent!” I hiss.

               Instead, he answers it. “Hello?” he whispers loudly.

               “Sora, we—”

               “Shhh!” It’s kind of harsh, but in the name of the world order, we have no choice but to make Ienzo keep it down.

               “S-Sorry,” he says much softer.

               “What’s up?” asks Sora.

               “We’ve received some unusual activity in the Kingdom of Corona. Kairi, Riku, and King Mickey are already on their way, but I think it would be wise to send everyone to investigate this matter.”

               “It’s that big, huh?”

               I can’t help the goosebumps creeping up my spine. This might be it.

               “I believe so.”

               Sora looks to us for opinions.

               “What about Jack?” Goofy asks.

               Again, we peer over the railing to see the captain ambling off along the shore on his own.

               “He’ll be fiiiine,” I reply.

               “You think so?”

               “Look at him? He barely knows we’re here when we’re the ones manning his ship. I’m sure he’ll have gotten himself off the island and onto his next adventure without us.”

               We turn back to Sora who looks back at his GummiPhone. “We’re on our way.”

               “Great. I’ll inform the others to wait for you before proceeding.”

               The call ends there. One last glance is spared to the captain that still hasn’t acknowledged we haven’t joined him before we set out for the Kingdom of Corona.

               My boots meet the grass. Again, the sun blesses us with its warm kiss though the breeze lacks the heavy salt of The Caribbean. There’s significantly less water about, but instead the sea is of glorious, pastel flowers soaking in the radiant light from above.

               “This place is pretty,” I awe, taking in all the greenery.

               “About time our wayward pirates showed up.”

               Her voice captures our attention and we spot Kairi strolling closer, Riku and Mickey following after.

               “Hey guys!” Sora calls.

               “Do you guys have any leads on our Heartless?” I ask as we meet up.

               “Nope. We were told to wait for you,” Riku says. “Ienzo says it’s likely to be a tough one.”

               “Sounds fun,” I laugh.

               “Fun? Really?” Riku’s not nearly as entertained as I am.

               I shrug. “What? We’re investigating this whether or not we’re afraid. Might as well plan on beating it to a pulp.”

               Though he scrunches his nose in disapproval, there’s the slightest hint of a smirk in his expression. “I don’t know if you’re brave or crazy.”

               “Thanks! I inherited it from my father.”

               Well whatever expression he had, it all goes out the window, leaving him baffled. “Wha…What?”

               I wave my finger guns at him.

               Quite honestly, the conversation doesn’t get much smarter than that. So we set out, keeping eyes peeled for signs of this unusual Heartless.

               In spite of big words, my heart slams against my ribs, anxiety creeping into my throat. As we wander the woods, I elect to keep my mouth clamped shut. If this is what I think it is, they are not prepared for this and, quite frankly, I’m not even sure I am. But I can’t let on that I know—that would open too many lines of conversation I’m not allowed to divulge.

               The ground rumbles beneath our feet. My voice catches on that lump of anxiety, but Riku’s is clear.

               “Run!”

               Everyone manages to dive out of the way as the earth gives way. From the dirt rises a serpentine beast with a body littered in thorns. A trio of flowers sprout from the top, each snapping their razor-sharp teeth. The largest in the middle is the only real face with wild, spiraling eyes. On the chest of this beast is the tell-tale emblem of the Heartless. This is an ancient species of serpentine monster that disappeared well before even my father’s time; I’d only ever seen it mentioned in a book. And those notes were nothing good.

               With a roar, the beast attempts to bite down on anyone as it lunges at the group. This starts the wildest fight of my life. The triplet heads independently strike at lightning speeds and the thorns on its sides make it difficult to make a mark with our attacks. Even when they do land, the thick skin of the snake soaks the ones that do land. The heads aren’t even the only threat this thing has as the tail whips at us, crushing rocks when it missed.

               My heart stops when I watch Sora raise his weapon to top one of the smaller heads from chomping down on him. His arms strain to hold it back, leaving him wide open for the tail to come through. I have just a split second to get out of the way the brunette is sent flying back, colliding with the cliffside at our backs.

               It feels like a fist jerking on my heart and I stumble.

               This is bad. I knew they would struggle, but I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do against this thing. I wasn’t prepared to face a Thorned Snake.

               There’s the slightest movement at the cliff overlooking us. My eyes snap to the black coat observing the fight—that’s who summoned this monster.

               I narrowly missing getting bitten into as my blade changes into a glider and takes me up to meet the Organization member. The man with pink hair doesn’t even spare me a glance.

               “Stop! Stop this!” I shout, racing towards him. “Please, Lauriam!”

               A brow rises in my direction. “And just who are you?”

               “Someone who knows that if you do this, you will regret it.”

               I step back beneath his imposing figure. In a whirl of petals, he now wields his signature scythe. “Threatening me, are you?”

               “No!” I can’t raise a weapon to this man. I know him—I know the importance of the part he’s meant to play. “Please, just don’t do this!”

               “You have one last chance to run.”

               “Lauriam, please.” His second hand meets the staff and I cower beneath its rising blade. “I’ll give you a clue about what you’re looking for!”

               His body freezes, mid swing, and he turns on me with the look of a man gone feral. “What did you just say?”

               I barely have time to brace myself, yet I wasn’t really prepared to be hung midair by my neck.

               Voice deep, violent, desperate, he demands more. “Tell me what you know.”

               Unable to speak beneath the crushing force of his grip, I glance to the raging battle below. That grip tightens but I know that I have to hold out or this won’t be the end of just me.

               A frustrated huff signals that I’ve won. I hit the ground, gasping for air. His snap echoes in the air, followed shortly by the ground rumbling. In the battle below, vines burst from the ground, entangling the beast. It soon forgets my allies as it struggles against the bindings. Thorns pierce its skin, eliciting a roar of pain and I almost feel bad for the thing. There was no hope against the crushing vines as the Heartless soon releases its heart and disperses in a cloud of smoke.

               Immediately, Marluxia turns on me. “Now tell me. Where is it? Why am I here?”

               Collecting my composure, I rise to my feet. “You need to look into the Realm of Fiction.”

               He’s barely restraining himself in his frustration. “What does that mean?”

               “That’s all I can tell you.”

               “And why should I trust you? What’s stopping me from choking the life out of you right now?”

               Suddenly it occurs to me—the reason she was the one to visit and set me on this path. Reaching into my jacket, I pull the fabric she asked me to keep with me. In my outstretched hand I offer up the vermillion ribbon. All that animosity washes off him, replaced by weary heartache. Almost reverently, he accepts my gift.

               “Where did you get this?” he murmurs, not quite understanding his own reaction.

               “You’ll find out soon enough.”

               His green eyes scan me over once again. “You’re not from here, are you.”

               I shrug with a meek smile.

               “You know I can’t back down from this war, right? I will defeat them when the time comes.”

               “You do what you need to do,” I say. My feet carry me towards the edge of the cliff. “May your heart be your guiding key.”

               What I said stuns him. “What did you—?!”

               Marluxia’s question can’t be answered now. I take that last step off the edge landing on the glider that carries me down to the waiting warriors of light below. I can’t fight the smile on my face, having succeeded in my mission, averted a crisis, and set everything back on the right path.

               “You guys okay?” I ask as my feet hit the ground.

               “What happened?” Kairi asks.

               Riku has some idea. “What did you do?”

               “I just…had a heart-to-heart.”

               “With Marluxia?” Sora is full of skepticism.

               “Yep.” I let the smile slip. “But don’t let that fool you. He’s still just as much of a threat as he was before. Do not take him lightly.”

               “How did you do that?” Donald scratches his head.

               “I can’t tell you.”

               His feathers ruffle. “You and your secrets.”

               Mickey isn’t quite as bothered. “We’d better report back to Ienzo and let him know that the Heartless is gone.”

               Sora looks to me. “And we better get back to Jack and make sure he’s not still stranded on that island.”

               I’m not quite prepared for this. My time here was always meant to be limited but getting to know these people in this time is a memory I’ll always keep close to my heart. It’s really made me come to appreciate who they are.

               Still, it takes me a moment to get the words out. “Actually, I think it’s time for me to go.”

               Surprise crosses all their face.

               “Huh? Where to?” asks Sora.

               “Home.” A laugh escapes me. “My dad is probably waiting for me to tell him all about this.”

               A hand passes through his hair as he considers the non-existent options. “You’re from Destiny Islands right? We could probably make a pitstop there if you wanna see him.”

               “It’s a bit more complicated than that.” From my pocket, I produce a star-shaped gem.

               Mickey immediately recognizes the item. “That’s a star shard!”

               “Yep. There’s a detour I gotta make if I want to actually get home.”

               “So when are you coming back?” I knew that question would pop up, but I don’t know if it’s more or less painful that it’s Sora who asks.

               “It’s gonna be a long time,” I answer honestly. “You’ll probably have forgotten me by the time we meet again and you may not recognize me.” I offer a hand in the face of his confusion. “But we will meet again. Trust me.”

               The parting sadness in his eyes brightens, a small hint of happiness coming through.

               “Alright.”

               Sora takes my hand and I pull him into my arms. With a hearty pat, I step away from him and bid the rest goodbye in turn. The star shard in my hand begins to glow as I send it the thoughts of my destination. Memories of my time here swell in my heart. Muscles in my cheeks hurt from all the smiles, but I don’t even care.

               “See you guys.” The next words slip from my mouth before I can even think about it. “Bye dad, I love you.”

               Oh I messed up. It feels like the everything stops and I wait for the worlds to end.

               Instead, Riku points at me with accusation. “I KNEW IT!”

               Sora, himself, is confused out of his mind. “Wait, what?!”

               Kairi puts a hand on his shoulder. “Sora, that’s your—"

               “WELL!” I interrupt loudly. “I’ve overstayed my welcome and Wilbur’s parents are gonna kill him if I don’t get his ship back! Bye!”

               Before the star shard takes me away, I hear Sora’s voice.

               “Bye, I love you too!”

~~~~~

Nova’s Kingdom Hearts Masterlist

[l4ndojpg]

Whumptober 2023, Day 9: Mistaken Identity

fandom: criminal minds | characters: spencer reid, derek morgan, david rossi | ship: none | trigger warnings: none | content: 4x07 memoriam, spencer is sad, team as a family | word count: 512.

Spencer slumps in his seat in the jet, exhausted.

“I… I really thought it was him,” he mumbles. 

Rossi and Morgan exchange an apprehensive glance. The last few days have been incredibly emotionally taxing on all of them, with the kidnapping case and then watching Spencer come back into contact with his father for the first time since he was a kid. This whole time, they’ve been watching Spencer like hawks, waiting for him to break. It’s not that Spencer is this fragile thing they have to walk on eggshells around, but he’s been through so many emotions in the last twelve hours alone that anyone in his position would have lost it by now. He’d come close a few times, blowing up at his teammates and then his father. But ever since sitting in a room with both of his parents for the first time in over a decade, he’s been unusually quiet. 

“We all make mistakes,” Rossi says, unusually gently. 

“Not me,” Spencer says shakily, inspecting his hands and frowning. “I’m supposed - my brain - I remember everything. How could I mess something up this badly?” 

“Reid,” Morgan says seriously, leaning over the table, trying to get Spencer’s attention, but Spencer ignores him. “Your brain was playing tricks on you. It could happen to anyone in your position. Anyone with trauma.” 

“Yeah,” Spencer says, but his voice cracks. He still refuses to look up at his friends. “I know.” 

“I’m going to get you some water,” Rossi says, standing up, “and do you want a snack? It might help, I know you haven’t eaten much today.” Spencer shakes his head. 

Rossi makes his way towards the kitchenette, and Morgan prepares to continue comforting Spencer when his phone buzzes suddenly. 

“Hey baby girl, we’re on our way back n- what? You’re kidding!” Morgan’s voice changes suddenly, filling with excitement. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll tell them! We’ll be there in a couple of hours, d- yes, yeah! That’s amazing - tell her congrats - yeah, we’ll see you all soon - okay - see you then -,” Morgan grins at Rossi, who returns with three bottles of water and some snacks, despite Spencer’s answer. “JJ’s in labor!” 

Rossi smiles. “Soon we’ll have a baby profiler running around!” Both men turn to face Spencer to see the reaction to his best friend’s news, and their grins immediately drop. Spencer is curled up in his seat, knees drawn to his chest and head leaning against the window. There are silent tears pouring down his face. 

“Sorry,” he whispers, feeling pathetic. Both Rossi and Morgan’s faces turn to ones of sympathy. 

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, kid,” Morgan says quietly. “It’s been a rough week.” 

“Yeah,” Spencer says, sniffing, wiping at his face. This does nothing to quell the tears that continue to fall, and he cringes away from his friends. 

“Just let it out, Spencer,” Rossi soothes. “We can talk about it when you’re ready.” 

After a few moments, Spencer’s eyes begin to droop with exhaustion. 

When he sleeps, he dreams of his father leaving all over again. 

[moorwood]

Hi, I'm not sure how to word this in a way that doesn't sound a little rude so I'll just say up front that I'm trying to compare my experiences and figure stuff out. What does having alters and switching front feel like? How can you tell the difference between a switch and just a dissociation-moodswing-identity meltdown triple swing from your brain being a dick to you?

Okay, so. First and foremost I want to say that I’m sorry if this isn’t the answer you’re looking for, I’ve been there. I know just how frustrating it can be. But I will try to describe this the best I can.

Our system tends to go through cycles of activity. There can be days and weeks at a time where no one is fronting, and it sucks. Our communication isn’t the best either. Most of our time is spent blurry, as it’s usually referred to, where there’s still a detachment to the self and body but no clear identity in control. Some systems can summon a headmate to front, others can’t. We can if said headmate has specific (positive) fronting triggers, but most of the time it is a seemingly random process.

Because of this, having alters/headmates for us can feel like nothing and it can feel like everything. Sometimes you feel completely alone, but you’re aware that there’s something else there. Like something is watching you from the shadows, from behind the bushes. Some headmates have stronger presences than others, but their existence is just… a gut feeling.

Other times you feel like you’re in a room full of people with no way out. We don’t get multiple alters fronting at once most of the time, but when we do, it can feel crowded and overwhelming depending on how many. We’re usually aware that these things are happening entirely inside our head but depending on who it is or how deeply dissociated you are, what’s “inner” or “outer” world can be confusing.

For example, part of our innerworld is an OTGW-esque autumnal forest and we’ve gotten pretty familiar with how it looks and feels since we first discovered it. Someone from the forest fronted for the first time today and what our body was doing and seeing was completely foreign to them. Even if we know something as a whole, it’s not guaranteed that every alter will have the same knowledge and they may need to relearn things. When this happens, it feels like they’re aware of the knowledge, but actually being able to collect and process it is impossible. It’s just out of sight, hidden behind a metaphorical (or physical) door.

But! Not everyone is like that. Some headmates front for the first time and immediately know what’s going on. I’m not sure how to describe fronting since that too varies but if someone else is still conscious for it, it can feel like a body possession. We like people describing it as someone else taking over driving a car and you ending up in the passenger seat. Sometimes you still have your own stream of thought, sometimes you hear someone elses. Sometimes it gets blended.

Fronting can be an immediate switch-over, but it can also take hours. Headaches and confusion are common. Same goes for splitting/a new headmate forming, but that can take days. For a while it can feel like the metaphorical door, where their presence is noticeable but their identity is unclear or locked away. Most of our headmates are fictives (present as/identity with a fictional character) so sometimes you can have a Vibe or be presented with certain thoughts/mannerisms and clock them.

I guess it can be hard to distinguish things from other causes, but my advice is to take note of unusual thoughts, mannerisms, memories, feelings, etc. Not every headmate is going to be completely different from one another, but if something feels Different, look into it. Taking notes did us a lot of good when we were first figuring out our situation. Some things will be more obvious than others, do whatever feels right.

There’s a lot more we could say but we’ve rambled enough in this response. If you have alters, they will change and grow with you. The way things function inside your head may change too. Remember that. You’re not faking if something doesn’t line up the way it used to.

Not every part of being plural needs to be dramatic and profound. It can be as simple as hearing comments from someone who isnt you or just… not feeling alone inside your head. It can feel like your imagination, and that can cause a lot of doubt, but trust in yourself. Plurality can be determined by so many different things and there’s no right way to be multiple.

[welcometohollyweird]

3, 5, 7, 9, 11 🖤

3. rant. just do it

Oh geez…I honestly don’t even know where to start with this one. This entire week has been a shit show tbh. Work’s been insane, I’ve been sleeping like shit every night and today I felt drugged up bc of the lack of sleep the entire day. Lmao. Not to mention my living situation kinda sucks ass & I really have no choice but to stay in it and it’s been an ongoing issue for years on end. Not to get *tooo* deep and personal but it’s a triggering environment & has been making a lot of the things I’m dealing with a lot harder (eating disorder/body dysmorphia/trauma symptoms/etc) but it is what it is I guess lolol.

I don’t know what else to rant about. Oh maybe besides how Fuckin’ annoying it is to work in a really rich area where half of the customers I see are entitled assholes. If a store has their hours on the door then you should NOT try to get inside when it’s AFTER HOURS. This happens literally every single day there but Saturdays are the absolute worst bc I get out earlier AND I’m there alone the whole day AND I HAVE to get out on time or else I’ll miss my bus home cause I don’t drive (that’s a whoooole other story but I’m 26 & scared to lmao). Anyway. I’ll stop there. Thanks for listening 🤣

5. how many accounts do you have?

We’re talking about tumble specifically right? Lmao. I hope so cause that’s how I’m gonna answer this….

Just this one! I *did* have another tumblr account but I got shadow-banned for no reason so I ended up creating this new one. I’m pretty sure the old account is still up but it’s useless since it’s hidden from everyone! I still don’t know what I did wrong for tumblr to force it into icognito mode! 🤷‍♀️

7. opinion on…

So I’m not sure what you want my opinion on for this one but I’d love to give an opinion on something!! If you wanna send me an ask with the specification feel free to do that & I’ll totally answer it! ✨

9. favorite brand of clothing

Hmmm…this is a hard question. I typically don’t really pay attention to what brands I buy ‘cause I shop at Tj Maxx and Marshall’s a lot where they have toooooons of good brands so I’m not really sure… I kinda just go with whatever feels comfortable (which is not easy lol. I actually despise clothes shopping which I know is kinda weird but it’s just…I don’t know…not a fun time for me 😅 )

11. what unusual talent do you have?

Uhhh… as far as I know…none?? 🤠 For real though, I can’t really think of anything “unusual” per-se… I wish I could. It would be cool.

Thanks for the ask babe!! 😘🤩

ASK ME THINGS!!

[fingfamily-blog-blog]

Tension

At the moment, I'm waiting for an online writing session to start. I only know that some students who want to submit an essay to the essay contest next week would like to have some time with me. But nobody has shown up yet. Funny. And yet, it was only three hours ago that my student, Salma, told me that today would be the session, and we wildcatted a time, 2 p.m. So no surprise really if others haven't come. This is not unusual in Indonesia. Somebody will appear and say, "We're going to do this thing now." And I have to do it, prepared or not. I'm not sure what the culture is that allows for such spontaneity. And it may be a charming thing. Since my scuba lessons, I'm trying to be more aware of how tense I am in response to things, and to roll a bit more fluidly. And to continue reflecting on that, for my second dive, Simone, the owner and dynamo of the Thalassa Dive Resort, came along, not to be with me, but to lead another set of more experienced divers. I finished the training, with some underwater difficulties. Navigating with a compass was a struggle, and I was left alone on the floor of the ocean and I sensed that my air was running out. It was at 10 bar, so I would say it WAS running out, and the breathing was both harder, and less of the air was flowing. I wouldn't say that I panicked, but I decided that, even though I was alone, I would surface and take care of myself so I wouldn't panic. Of course, this went down badly with my instructor Davin, who had surely had enough of me. Once we were back in the boat, Simone asked me if I would like her to be my instructor going forward, that is, if I continued my training beyond the Open Water certificate and into the Advanced Open Water cert. I thought this was a kind gesture for both Davin and me. I told her I wanted to get through the first level before thinking about the next. But later, back at the hotel, she told me, "You are too tense." Christ. There are a few possible answers to the "calm down" argument. One is, "I'm calm." But that falls on deaf ears because the person you are saying that to is the one who just told you to calm down. The other is to give a reason for not being calm, but that's not the same as actually calming down. So what "calm down" means to people who hear it is generally more like "submit to me," "do what I say." Of course when you're a student, you have to do as you're told. But what you're told has to make sense, has to have an understandable context. I hesitate to go into further detail. The best thing, although, as you may be able to tell, in my case not the most comfortable thing, is to agree, "Yes, I'm too tense. I need to calm down." I felt like I did that numerous times in my training, but that the context was rarely as clear as I would have liked. And of course then my ego took hits which I didn't enjoy. If I say so myself, I'm not a big ego person. But everyone has some ego and it's sensitive when provoked. Rather like this online session which I waited for, and which did happen, although it started about 20 minutes late. The students who came to the session are planning to write an essay for a contest and they were looking for assistance. But none of them showed their faces. Only two of them spoke, and after I shared some basics about essay structure, introduction, conclusion, thesis statement, the two questions I received first were about the titles of the essays. Well, I don't teach titles. And so I asked the students, "How many of you think you will win the contest based on your title?" Of course that went over badly. In fact, the whole thing went over badly. Nobody in Indonesia wants to learn efficiency. They want to reify the byzantine ways that have been handed down to them. They don't want a new system, they want to reinforce the system they have. I told them that good essay structure can be conveyed in 5 sentence paragraphs. One student asked, "Can I write 8, 9 or 10 sentences in a paragraph?" Well, yes, you can. But that won't make the paragraph any more effective. In fact, it will give you many more chances to screw it up, and cause you to wander with your ideas, and not communicate directly. The reader is expecting ideas to be presented and supported, and then to move on to the next idea. I asked the students to speak up. They wouldn't. I asked them to write their topics in the chat box. THEY WOULDN'T DO IT. I asked Salma (my student and the organizer of the session) why don't they speak up? She said, "They're shy." Of course, I understand that. I tell them I can be shy too. But a teacher is a helper, and you came to this session because you want help with an essay. If you don't even share your topic, HOW CAN I HELP?!?!? At least three times in the session I wanted to throw my hands up and say, "This is pointless!" But I'm not so tense that I actually did that. But I am tense enough to know that my time in Indonesia as a teacher has been a failure - not perhaps complete and total, but in the vast majority. And that's because their educational system is not built on individuals maximizing their intellectual abilities. It's built on doing what everybody else does without thinking about it. And I will never fit into, or be able to assist in, such a system. I expect too much of individuals. And I'm too tense.

[collectsneakers]

Unlock the Power of the Right Sneakers Barcelona

Modern sneakerheads are in an age of excitement. We’re becoming more obsessed with technology, and the latest trends aren’t slowing down. So it was only natural that as we entered this era of Sneaker Week, a high-tech buzz was developing around the release of new high-ace Sneakers Barcelona. From horizontal to vertical uppers, these kicks pack a wallop — even if they don’t come with a can-do attitude and all-knowing advice on how to get the most out of your sneakers. A sneaker is just one way that you can take action to lock in your goals and achieve success. Whether you’re looking to break into the business or establish yourself as a leader in your field, there are steps you can take to improve your current shoes and set yourself up for success in the future . . . Voila! The world of sneaker-ology is here to help you unlock the potential of your pair and enjoy Sneaker Week uninterrupted! Read on for everything you need to know about unlocking the power of the right sneaker.

Sneaker Lock-In Factor

The depth and feel of a shoe come down to a few things. How your shoe feels, how it fits you, and the way it makes you feel — these all increase with posture, body weight, and the amount of exercise you engage with the shoe. When you engage with your shoe, your brain uses receptors to send messages to the brain stem — this means that when you put pressure on your feet, your brain works to add receptors to the messages coming in. It’s no secret that wearing high-ace sneakers can feel like you’re wearing a pair of old, worn-out sweats. Getting used to this feeling is the difference between taking advantage of the shoe’s potential and paying for it with your life.

Good shoes make great bottoms

When it comes to bottoms, shoe manufacturers go into great detail about their performance. They make sure that your shoes provide a good amount of support, are made of good materials, and provide the right amounts of shock absorption. But a few things are overlooked when it comes to how the shoe interacts with your feet . . . - Your foot’s arch. The arch of your foot is the most sensitive area in the whole body. If your foot doesn’t arch, it means that something is off-kilter in your foot (e.g., your shoe has an unusual fit). A high-ace shoe won’t feel good on your feet because it won’t encourage the right amount of arch development. - Your foot’s speed. The speed at which your foot’s arch and speed develop is one of the most important factors in building a proper foot arch . . .

Work on your training

If your primary goal is to get faster and stronger, you should be investing in better shoes. But if you’re looking to take your game to the next level, you should also be investing in better conditioning. This will help you prepare for and maximize your performance on the pitch. Most experts recommend that you train your feet and ankles first. Once you’ve got your body in the right frame of mind to train with your feet, you can work your way up to working your way through your knees, ankles, and elbows. This will ensure that your technique is solid, your footwork is consistent, and your footwork doesn’t feel arrhythmic.

Play with your feet

When it comes to feet, we’re just as likely to be offered shoes that have a valve in the back that lets us “sneak” air in or out, or shoes that have spikes on the front that make us “pitch” our feet out at potential targets. The important thing is to try out different footfall patterns and see what comes naturally to your feet. If you find that it’s more effective to use your non-dominant foot when playing soccer, or that it’s more effective to use your non-dominant foot when creating a 90-degree angle when playing intermittent sports, then go for it.

Create a sneaker rotation

The rotation of your shoes is one of the most important exercises you can do to lock in your goals. Some shoes have padding on the sole that helps with arch and balance, while others have a heel cup that provides a more even amount of support. If you’re looking to build off of your recent success and take your game to the next level, it’s worth investing in a pair of high-ace Sneakers Barcelona that have a heel cup and heel support. These can be used for both indoor and outdoor use, and are sure to provide the right amount of shock absorption for your feet.

Get motivated

Sneakers are meant to be a tool. They’re meant to be used as a tool to get you closer to your goals. But when you start wearing them more, you start to associate wearing a sneaker with a certain mood or playfulness that you were previously difficult to notice. It’s easy to get bogged down in all the things that you don’t necessarily mind, but when you stop finding the enjoyment in your shoes, you have less energy to do the things that you love to do — get it on the pitch, play with your friends, whatever you do, don’t put too much pressure on yourself. When you stop putting pressure on yourself, you have less energy to do the things that you love to do — get it on the pitch, play with your friends, whatever you do, don’t put too much pressure on yourself.

Conclusion

Sneakers Barcelona is one of the most versatile pieces of footwear. Whether you’re looking for a casual and colorful shoe that pairs well with dress shirts or you’re looking for a high-tech shoe that can lock you into your home for hours on end, there are many options out there. Just make sure that you’re feeling confident in your new feet and that you’re using the right shoes for you. If you’ve been feeling like you’ve been let down by your current pair of shoes, you can always send them in for a little tune-up.

[errythinisblue]

Without me

Mason Mount x Y/N 

All the drama from the past few days inspired me to write this angsty fic about Mason. I guess everybody’s got their own coping mechanism, and this is mine 🤷🏻‍♀️ a special thank you goes to my babe @masterclassbaby that really encouraged me to write this! Love u bestie 💕

Summary: Your relationship with Mason is complicated to say the least. What is going to happen between the two of you once you see some videos of him partying with some girls in it?

Warnings: alcohol consumption, sexual themes, (kind of heartbreaking too).

This is PART 1 of what will probably turn out to be a short story (other two parts will be coming soon)

Without Me Masterlist

gif credits to @masonmovnt​ 

(sorry y’all but I had to put that gif on this, I mean he’s the best tour guide after all!)

Another Monday morning had come. A new week had just begun. But your habits were just the same.

 It wasn’t unusual for you to wake up in Mason’s bed on a Monday morning after a match. It didn’t feel strange to wake up next to him anymore, as you two kind of fell into a friends with benefits kind of relationship. You were friends from a long time and you didn’t see your friendship turning into this at all, until one night it happened eventually.

 It was the night of the Euro 2020 finals. You were obviously there to support and cheer on him, and he was absolutely ecstatic to have you there with his family and friends. But as things turned out in a completely different way to how you all wished they would, Mason’s mood changed too. His heart was broken as tears were falling from his chocolate brown eyes when you met him after the game; he didn’t say a word to you, he only engulfed you in his arms, silently praying for you to pick up the pieces he was breaking into. And you did, as you hugged him tight, as you were hoping he couldn’t feel your heart beating so fast while you held him in your arms. That night something changed between the two of you, as you found yourselves in bed together.

 For you both, the result of that night was you two falling in bed together every time you needed to let some steam off. For yourself, the result of that night was you doubting the fact that you were actually getting feelings for the boy. For Mason… Mason didn’t want to think about that night at all, as he felt some strange feelings inside of him that he didn’t want to address. Yet, he always found his way back to you. Back to the girl who put him back on his feet when he felt like giving up. In your arms he found the comfort he didn’t know he needed, he felt appreciated even in the darkest of times, when you would never leave his side. He felt whole when he was with you, like he didn’t need to prove himself to be by your side.

 And here he was now, in your arms, as he was slowly waking up. You watched as his sleepy eyes were adjusting to the morning light, while his lips curled up into a smile as he saw your face.

 “ ‘Morning…” he grumbled in his morning raspy voice.

 “Good morning…” you smiled back at him as you felt his arm tightening around your waist, your heart rate increasing at the touch.

 “I’m happy I asked you to stay y’know?” he mumbled, pressing kisses against the naked skin of your neck.

 “Why’s that?” you whispered, running your fingers through his hair.

 “’Cause I’ll miss not having you around… do you remember I told you I’m leaving with the guys later in the morning?” he told you looking straight into your eyes.

 “Oh that… I wasn’t really paying attention to what you said last night you know…” you smirked at him, trying to conceal your disappointment.

 “Well you should have missy.” he pecked your lips before speaking again, “I wanted to ask you to come but, I know you’re busy with work and all…I didn’t want to push you…”

 “Mase it’s okay,” you breathed a laugh even if you felt a weigh starting to form in your chest, “it’s not like we’re dating so, it’s alright really!”

 “Yeah…” his brow furrowed for a moment as you were sure you saw a flash of sadness appear in his eyes, “yeah I know but still, I’m gonna miss not having you around… it’s gonna be so hard without you there…” he whispered the last part.

 “Without me? Oh stop it with the sweet words Mount, that’s not what we do…” you pushed his shoulder as you quickly got out of bed, away from his body heat. You needed to distance yourself from him, especially when he spoke those words to you. Especially when he looked at you like he never wanted to let you go. Especially since you weren’t going to see each other for days, and you were sure you were going to miss him too much for your own good.

 “Where are you going??” he whined in his pillow.

 “I have to go to work Mason, and you have to prepare your things and all…” you said, trying to sound unbothered as you were putting your clothes on in a haste.

 “It’s early, we still have some time-“ he tried to reason with you, but your mind was set on you leaving his house as soon as you could.

 “Mason there’s no more time! I have to go home, take a shower and change into some clean clothes before actually going to work,” you cut him off, “I’ll see you when you’ll get back I guess!”

 “Wait, don’t you think you should give me a kiss before you go?” he pouted as he now sat in his bed, the duvet covering his legs up to his crotch while it left his bare chest on full display.

 “Just one,” you warned him as you leaned down to peck his lips, “and don’t party too hard without me!” you winked at him before making your way out of the bedroom, leaving Mason with a frown on his face.

 -

 The morning after started on a complete different note. You woke up to your phone screen full of message notifications and missed calls from your best friend Y/F/N. ‘What the hell?’ you thought to yourself; she never used to call or message you at such an early hour in the morning so you started to get worried thinking about what could have happened to her.

 When your read her messages, and opened the link she sent to you it was like someone slapped you in the face, hard. You didn’t open your Instagram since last night, when you were scrolling through the pictures in hope that you would fall asleep soon; so you didn’t see what one of Mason’s friends reposted in his stories barely hours ago. But now that you were watching the video where Mason was awkwardly flirting with a girl, you couldn’t help but feel stupid, so damn stupid.

 You fell for him, and you fell hard. So hard that now you felt your heart crumbling in your chest. So hard that you couldn’t stop watching that video. So hard that you were full on crying as you heard his voice speaking those words.

 But apparently that wasn’t enough, no. In the next video you saw Mason and that girl; she was talking to him with such a loud and squeaky voice that you could perfectly hear what she was saying to him, even if you preferred you didn’t. “She’s just your fuck buddy! Don’t think about her now, let’s just have fun!” she told him as she was all over him before the video ended. Your phone fell from your hands on your mattress, as it didn’t take long for you to figure out who she was talking about, and it didn’t take long for rage to flood your mind. It wasn’t her words that hurt you the most no, it was the fact that he didn’t even try to speak up for you, shrugging at her instead.

 That same rage, and the hurt you were feeling made you grab your phone in your shaking hands once again, as you tried to find Mason’s chat through tears filled eyes. When you found it you couldn’t help but sob even louder, while your tears fell on the screen as you were writing down a message to him:

 ‘Don’t you ever dare to try and come near me again, if you don’t have the balls to speak up for me when I’m not around to do it.’    

 You hit send and instantly blocked him on every social media, even blocking him from your phone contacts. You didn’t deserve that, and you didn’t want to hear anything from him. Even if you were hurting so much that you were barely breathing in between your sobs.

 As you were slowly getting ready for another day full of work your phone started ringing once again, Y/F/N appearing on your screen as you took your phone from the nightstand.

 “Hello?” you answered, your voice still rough from all the tears you shed.

 “Oh girl, I’m so sorry…” she sounded so sweet through the phone, her voice was soothing your pain even if just a little bit, “I’m sorry you had to see that.” She knew about you and Mason, and she knew you must have felt really bad when you saw those videos.

 “It’s okay really,” you felt like crying again, but this time you didn’t as you pushed back your tears, “I mean it’s not like we’re together so…” you sighed, “However, I sent him a message and blocked him. He could have at least took my side when she talked about me like that! I mean how the fuck did she know about me in the first place??” you were starting to get enraged again as you were thinking back to her words.

 “Listen, I talked to my brother, and he told me that Mason was talking about you while he was drunk… then their friend, damn I can’t remember his name, well anyway he spilled the truth on you two!” she explained. Her brother was one of the guys that went on vacation with Mason, and she asked him what happened since she was clearly annoyed by the boys behavior.

 “Oh shit!” you exclaimed as you looked at your watch, “It’s late, I’ve got to go to work! I’ll talk to you later okay??” you rushed through the corridor of you apartment to the door.

 “Alright babe, call me if you need anything okay?” she softly told you.

 “Will do, bye!” you ended the call as you made your way through the door.

 -

After an exhausting day you just wanted to go to bed and sleep. Your head and your heart were still trying to process what happened in the morning, and it hurt so much even to think about it. So that’s exactly what you did, you stepped out of your clothes and got into your bed. You closed your eyes, keeping them tightly shut as to stop the images of that video from replaying in your head. You didn’t want to think about that, even if deep down you knew you had to dive into your pain, to feel it inside of you, so that your healing process could start. But the reality was that you didn’t know if you really wanted to heal.

When you woke up the next morning, your head was pounding, as it always happened when you cried yourself to sleep. You slowly got out of bed and made your way to the kitchen to grab something to eat for breakfast and some painkillers for your head. As you were waiting for your tea to be ready, you subconsciously opened Instagram to control your notifications, as you always did while you were having breakfast.

 What you saw made you feel nauseous. There was another video of Mason in a club with yet another girl whispering into his ear.

 You put your phone down onto the kitchen counter as your headache was getting worse by the minute. You had enough of that, you had enough of him and you had enough of the pain. So you did the only thing that could help you taking your mind off him, you removed yourself from any social media and went on with your day. Slowly starting to learn how to live without him.

[rosemaryandarsenic]

Battle of the Bands (pt.1)

pairing| Gareth Emerson x female reader

readersynopsis| Gareth and Y/N are a part of competing bands, but circumstances arise that pull them together instead of apart.

warnings|Cursing, mentions divorce, name calling, drug use, relationship issues, scary upside down things.

AN: Gareth and Y/N are both 18 in this, events of S4 happened but everyone made it. Eddie is on house arrest, Max is in a wheelchair and the Byers moved back into town. Not sure how far Im going to take the whole plot with the upside down, this story will mainly focus on Gareth's and Y/Ns experiences. This part doesnt talk alot about the Battle of the Bands but its coming!!

The crisp winter air is beginning to lose its sting, fading into the spring as the snow melted in puddles around Hawkins. It’s March, and everyone is beginning to buzz with anticipation as the school year comes to an end. Graduation is just around the corner, along with the battle of the bands - the first of its kind in the small town. There are several bands set to play, among them, Corroded Coffin. Gareth’s excitement has been escalating every day, to the point where he’s been drumming on everything. It’s lunch time and he’s tapping  on his plastic tray in the line like his life depends on it when he feels a tap on his shoulder. 

“Can you maybe shut your fingers up and move along?” A girl, barely above shoulder height is staring up at him with an annoyed look. 

“Earth to the freak, I asked you a question.” She says again, a strand of hair falling over her eyes. 

“Sorry.” He stutters, moving forward, not realizing he’d been holding up the line. 

She’s pretty, big eyes graced with black eyeliner. A black T-shirt and ripped black jeans, spiked bracelets and a silver chain around her neck with a little skull dangling from it. It looks almost identical to his, which makes him blush. He’s trying not to stare as he escapes the hustle and wanders to the table where the rest of hellfire is seated. 

“I’m telling you, it’s going to be legendary.” Andy says, as Gareth slides into his seat next to Jeff. 

“You don’t think that we’ll get kicked out for it? I mean come on dude, the fact they’re even letting us play is insane,” Jeff mumbles, shoving cubed potatoes in his mouth as he talks. “The only reason they allowed us to compete is because Eddie graduated and that other metal band is playing. We’re already in deep shit after subbing our front man.” 

“What other metal band?” Gareth asks, looking confused.

“Are you serious man? I told you - its those chicks from marching band. The Screaming Minnies.” Andy sighs.

“The Screaming Meemies.” Jeff corrects him, shaking his head. “They signed up last week.”

Gareth tried to recall the name, unable to picture any girl in Hawkins starting a metal band, let alone a group of them. Except one - the girl in line, the new girl. 

“Wait - the one with that new girl, the goth looking one?” He raises an eyebrow. 

“That’s the one, its Y/N and two freshman I think.” Jeff finishes, sliding his plate to the side. Who would've fucking thought?

The day crawls on, Gareth watching the clock and losing himself to boredom as teachers went over assignments. He couldn't stop thinking about the band, or the face of the girl in line this afternoon. He’d seen her maybe twice when she’d started mid-term at Hawkins High, and he couldn't recall much about her. She seemed gloomy, always in darker clothes, which was unusual around here. He knew she was a senior like himself, but they didn’t have many classes together. Metal huh? In times like this, that was shocking. Since Eddie’s release from jail, and graduation, looking or acting remotely different put an enormous target on your back. The Satanic Panic, newspapers called it. Even the boys had stopped wearing their Hellfire shirts, opting for solid black clothes or grey hoodies. He hated it, with a burning passion. Gareth still refused to stop wearing his vest, opting instead for removing the buttons. In the privacy of his own home his walls were still plastered with band posters and D&D art, but it wasn’t the same. Expressing yourself shouldn’t be a crime, but they had to play it safe. After nearly losing Eddie, they all were scared of death themselves. It’s what had brought Dustin and Mike closer to Gareth this last year, especially Dustin. Gareth had spent all of summer wrapping his mind around the story Eddie had shared one night, the only time he’d ever opened up about his near death appearance. How Dustin had saved his life that night after he’d been attacked by bats - demo bats he’d called them. Jeff and Andy had never believed Eddie killed Chrissy, never asked questions, but they had stayed at home much longer before seeking Eddie out. No one blamed them. The whole thing was a mess. 

The bell brought Gareth back to reality, and he grabbed his books and pencil as he shuffled into the hall with the rest of the students, pulling his hood up as he shuffled to his locker. May could not come soon enough.

The beginning of April rolled in as the band practiced, doing homework together and sneaking to Eddie’s in the middle of the night. Mike was starting to get the hang on vocals, his voice a surprisingly good match for Eddie’s gravely tone. The two were a lot alike, which also helped, but Mike was distracted. His girlfriend, Jane (who he called El, despite being told to quit), proved to be a major hinderance to his ability to focus. They fought a lot, over god knows what, and Will (the newest addition to the group, who’d been welcomed with open arms) was constantly trying to repair the damage. Dustin spent most of his time on the phone with his girlfriend Suze, and Lucas was with Max, who was now happily harassing him from a wheelchair as he followed her around like a guard-dog. Jeff and Andy both had girlfriends as well, nice people who mostly avoided everyone. This left Eddie, Gareth and Will on their own at random hours, usually filled with slasher movies and bitching about Mike or the jocks at school. Will and Eddie were both excellent DM’s, so occasionally they’d loose themselves in campaign discussions. Tonight was one of those nights, and Gareth had excused himself early, driving back to his house with the windows down, Van Halen blaring. The country roads were nice this time of night, mostly undisturbed by the ravines that now tore through Hawkins. No one was ever out now, even though the curfew had lifted. It was peaceful, almost, only disturbed by the smokey haze that fell over the town even after months of clean up. 

He turned the music down as he drove into the city, and the suburbs, not wanting to disturb the quiet. Turning the corner, he nearly jumped out of his skin as he noticed a shadowy figure darting across the road. They were running, from something that he couldn't see, hood up with strands of hair flying. Only a moment after the figure had run past him, something large bounded after them on all fours. A dog maybe? It was huge, maybe the size of a person. The figure stumbled, clearly out of breath as the creature jolted towards them. Is that Y/N? Gareth honked, both the figure and the beast turning towards the sound. It was her, the girl from school. Her eyes widening at the car, she used the moment of distraction to run, this time towards his vehicle. He pulled to a stop as she practically flung herself through the open window on the passenger side. 

“DRIVE.” She screamed, as the creature swung towards them, now on its hind legs. Its head expanded into a flower shape, exposing rows of razor sharp teeth as it let out an unearthly howl. 

Gareth’s heart pounding, he slammed on the gas pedal, flying past whatever the fuck that thing was and down the road. It followed, bounding after them.

“WHAT IS THAT?” He screamed, careening around another corner too fast, sending a trash bin flying. 

“I DONT KNOW!” She screamed back, tears running down her face as she held on for dear life. The beast was beginning to fall behind as he sped towards the longest stretch of road he could find - a strip leading to the next town. They flew past street signs, thankfully no other cars in sight, towards the edge of Hawkins, the creature chasing them. He didn’t bother to look in the rear mirror until they flew past the Welcome to Hawkins sign, when Y/N yelled over the wind, “You lost him.”

He slowed to the speed limit, heart racing as he continued to drive, silence falling over them until the city lights started to surround them. They were thirty minutes out of Hawkins, in the neighboring city before he finally pulled over, panting still from the adrenaline. Y/N was also breathing heavy, her hood now down, exposing the smeared makeup on her face and the panic in her eyes. 

“What in the absolute fuck.” She kept mumbling under her breath, “WHAT THE FUCK.” 

Gareth was no better, hands still on the steering wheel, fingers white from clenching it so hard. He felt light headed, trying to rack his brain for a logical answer. There’s no fucking way - unless? He yanked the drivers door open and tumbled out, scanning the street for a payphone. He groaned, seeing nothing, and let himself lean on the car. His body felt like a rock underwater, groggy with shock. If that was one of the beasts that Dustin and Lucas had talked about, things were about to get nasty real quick. He gulped in air, trying to focus his thoughts as Y/N stumbled out of the car. 

“Gareth?” She walked around the back, coming towards him with her hands shaking. “Gareth, are you okay?” 

He nodded, still reaching for air. “We need to find a phone.”

She scanned the street, coming to the realization he had moments ago. “Maybe there’s one down the street?” She questioned, anxiously wringing her hands. When she’d moved here, she’d been resentful - Hawkins was boring. Nothing happened in small towns. But here she was, with the rival bands drummer in the middle of the night after being chased by something out of a nightmare. 

“I’m gonna check,” she said, walking hurriedly towards the next row of buildings. He followed her, pocketing his car keys as they both scanned the landscape for some indication of an open store or payphone. Barely a block away, a diner lit up the night, and they both ran towards it. Y/N swung the door open, florescent beams pooling out onto the pavement as she made her way to the counter.

“Can we use your phone?” She asked, the waitress on the other side of the counter looking disgruntled. She was about to refuse until she saw the tears on the girls face, and handed her the phone from behind the counter. Gareth stood next to her, waiting as she held the receiver, then turned to him. 

“W-who do we call?” She said. Neither of them had thought ahead. The police would laugh them away, ask why they were out so late anyways. 

He took the phone, dialing Eddie’s number. It rang a few times before he picked up, sounding sleepy. 

“Hello?”

“Eddie, listen -“

“Gareth? What the fuck man?”

“Eddie shut the fuck up and listen to me.”

Silence on the line. 

“Eddie?”

“Im fucking listening, why do you sound like you just saw a fucking ghost?”

“Long story, I…uh, I need a favor. I’m with someone in the next town-“

“What’re you-“

“We saw something man.”

“Something?” Eddie’s tone changed, serious now, wide awake. “Where exactly are you?”

“A diner. We lost it on the road out of town, dude, I’ve never seen-“

“Stop. Stay there.” Eddie sounded worried, scared even. “Someone will be there soon, just fucking stay there.” 

The line dropped, and Gareth felt his palms get sweaty. Shit. Y/N is staring at him, confused, as he puts the phone down. 

“We sit tight.” He says. She nods. She’s getting the feeling he knows something she doesn’t, and now is not the time to question it. 

They sat for what felt like hours, ordering coffee and not drinking it, both of them lost in thought about what they’d just seen. Eventually, Gareth took a sip of the now lukewarm drink in his hands and sighed, looking up at her. 

He cleared his throat, sticking out his hand. “Gareth Emerson.” He said, and she laughed a little, making him turn pink. 

“I know.” She smiled. “Y/N Y/L/N.” She said, taking his hand. His palms were still sweaty, as were hers, but the touch felt oddly calming. 

“I, uh, I’ve seen you at school.” She mutters, sipping her own coffee and grimacing at the bitter taste. “You're in Corroded Coffin, right?”

“Mhhm.” He hums, taking another drink. “Your in the Screaming Meemies?” 

She nods, shaking her head. “I hate that stupid name, but yeah. I’m the guitarist.”

He smiles, hands wrapped around his mug. “Drummer.”

Gareth is wracking his brain for something to say, but nothing comes. He’s never been the greatest with small talk, even in emergencies. It seemed silly to be talking about normal things after what they’d just seen. 

“So…you moved here mid-semester right?” He asks.

She nods, “From Nebraska actually.”

His eyebrows crinkled together, “Nebraska?”

“It’s not so bad,” she chuckled, “all my family is - was - there.”

He nods, seeming to note the way she corrected herself, but not saying anything. 

“My dad found a better job here in Hawkins,” she continues, “so we moved up during the holidays.”

“Seems like you're handling it okay,” he says, looking at his hands. “I’m sorry though. Moving sucks.”

“Have you moved a lot?”

“Not recently. Not since my parents got divorced.” He says, looking back at her face now. “They split when I was twelve.”

She nods. “You go with your mom or dad?”

“Mom.” He smiles. “My dads a piece of shit.”

She smiles back this time, laughing under her breath. “My mom is shitty too.” She nods, taking another sip of coffee. “At least we get one, right?”

He nods, understanding. “Yeah. At least we get one.”

They sit in silence for awhile longer, till the door of the diner swings open again. Will and his brother, Jonathan, stumble in - Nancy wheeler in tow. 

“Jesus Christ!” Nancy says as they walk towards you, taking in both of your frazzled appearances. Gareth doesn’t know Nancy well, hardly at all in fact, but he’s heard Eddie’s stories. She’s a powerhouse. Jonathan…well Jonathan’s awkward. He’s quiet, but he’s fun, especially when he smokes. Always carries his camera around with him. 

The drive back to Hawkins is stressful, Nancy following as Jonathan drove Gareth’s car back with everyone else in it. Will gave them the third degree, wanting every detail about the encounter. Gareth told his part in less than a minute, honestly embarrassed at the realization that he’d barely seen the creature and nearly shit his pants. Y/N’s part took longer, and she told it curled up in the backseat beside him.

“I was walking home from band practice, and decided to take this short cut through the woods.”

“The woods at night?” Jonathan piped up, and Will shushed him.

“Yeah. I grew up near something similar so I didn’t think about it,” she shrugs. “Anyways, I was almost to my part of town when I heard something behind me so I hid. I couldn't see anything behind me so I figured I was imagining it, yknow? But every time I started moving it felt like something was there. It freaked me out, and I was only a few blocks away at this point so I decided to run for it. My dad’s out of town, but we have a gun in the kitchen. I planned to get inside and call the cops, arm myself. The problem is when I start running for it I hear it again, and I feel something slippery. It’s like this vine appeared out of nowhere and gets all twisted around my foot. It knocks me off my feet and I….” She trails off. 

Will nods, giving her a reassuring look. 

“We’ve heard some weird shit, its okay.” Jonathan says. 

“It felt like it was pulling me,” she shivers, “like the vine was alive and slimy and….” She stops again. “It dragged me towards this tree, and I swear I saw the trunk open up, like this hole with ooze pouring out of it is ready to swallow me. So I start kicking and screaming. I must’ve gotten free because I felt it fall back, and I just start running again. I don’t know where I am or where I’m headed, I’m just trying to get the fuck away from whatever that is.” She pales as she talks, gripping at the sleeves of her hoodie. Gareth leans in, letting her scoot closer to him for comfort.

“I get out of the woods and the sound is back, like somethings behind me so I just keep running. I heard its feet on the pavement, they made squelching sounds.” She shivers. “That’s when I saw Gareth’s car.”

Jonathan and Will give each other a look, silently conversing as the car goes quiet. 

“How big was this thing?” Will asks quietly, shifting in his seat. 

“Probably twice the size of Great Dane.” She says, staring out the window. Gareth puts a hand on her leg, attempting to comfort her and hoping it's not too much. He can’t imagine how scared she must’ve been, seeing that. She has the same look that he see’s on Eddie and Lucas’s faces sometimes. When they think no one is looking and the shadow falls across their eyes. 

“Whatever it is, it's gone now.” Jonathan says, confidence in his voice as they pull into town. “I suggest we go home and re-convene in the morning to decide how to proceed.”

Y/N nods, her shoulders finally falling as she sighs. It had been a long night. She quietly gave him directions to her house, and they dropped her there, watching to make sure she made it inside. The kitchen lights were on, and Gareth let out his own sigh of relief as he saw her lock the front door and walk away, presumably to her own room. He’s not sure why he’s so attached to this girl, he barely knows her, but after tonight he feels responsible. 

Will turns in his seat, and gives him a look. “Demo-dogs function on a hive mind. It’s not gone but it’s probably moved on to hunt something else.” He says quietly. 

“You saved her life.” Jonathan says, not turning. “And yours. We’ll figure out the rest.”

—-

Gareth slept badly, which came as no surprise. Too much was happening, between school and the events of the evening. Two emotions settled over him, the first - dread. Every sound in the night made him jump. He couldn’t get out the image of the demo-dog rising on its hind legs. The second was…more complex. It felt like something had changed in him tonight. Next to the mental picture of the creature, there was the face of a girl. Y/N, to be exact. She’d been wild, terrified obviously, but she’d held her wits about her.  He couldn’t drop the memory of her leaning into his touch in the back seat. He chided himself, it was probably the shock of things. It had nothing to do with him. And yet, the thought stayed. He groaned, finally giving up on sleep entirely when the clock hit 4 am. Whatever the fuck had happened wouldn’t change the fact that he had one month left of classes before freedom. They’d deal with it. Until then, he had the band.

—-

Y/n lay in her bed, eyes blankly staring at the ceiling as she tried to rest. Her heart was still pounding, an anxious feeling in her stomach. Fear mixed with an unease, much more unsettling than fear alone. Closing her eyes she pictures Gareth's hand on her thigh again, the warmth radiating off of him, the gentle reassurance grounding her. She watched him from the moment she started at school, noticing his curly hair and dimples tucked away in some of her classes. At lunch, she’d sit opposite to him so she could watch him talk amongst his friends. He never seemed to say much, but his face showed every emotion like a book. It was captivating to her, and she kept it buried deep inside. Senior year was not the time to get attached, she’d be gone soon anyways, to start a real band and get the fuck out of this town. Except now her stomach only filled with dread at the thought of him being gone. He had seen it, most of it, he knew. It seemed like the Byers understood, but how many of them would truly be able to do anything? She climbed out of bed and shuffled to her closet, where her guitar sat leaning against the wall. It soothes her, the feeling of the strings against her fingers. The guitar hums with sound, vibrating against her chest like a hug. She thinks again of Gareth's face, his hazel eyes, the curls around his forehead and the chain around his neck. His hands. Come what may, he’d saved her life, and here she was. The rest could wait till the morning.