#ellas hair disaster

[ialreadymadeyouapromise]

𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐔𝐏.

PAIRING: evan buckley x fem!reader WARNINGS: misunderstandings, no use of y/n GENRE: angst, fluff, idiots to lovers SONG INSPIRATION: waiting all night - ella eyre WORD COUNT: 4.4k

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“come on, you’ll love him!” evan said, leaning forward over the table. his eyes were wide, earnest, and a little too excited for your comfort.

you shot him a skeptical look over the rim of your coffee cup, raising an eyebrow as you sipped slowly. “that’s what you said about the last guy, and he thought supernatural was a documentary.”

evan groaned, dropping his head back dramatically like the weight of the world rested on his shoulders.

“uh huh.” you put your mug down and crossed your arms. “i’m starting to think you’re intentionally sabotaging my social life.”

“first of all, rude.” evan leaned back, his hand running through his already tousled hair. “second, this guy is different. he’s smart. funny. likes dogs–”

“everyone likes dogs, buck,” you cut in, unimpressed.

he leaned forward again, resting his elbows on the table and giving you that lopsided grin that always seemed to get him out of trouble. “fair point. but he’s also a firefighter. you already have that in common. and he’s got a great sense of humor, i swear. you’re gonna hit it off. i can feel it.”

“mhm” you said, your voice flat. “because your matchmaking track record is so stellar.”

evan winced, but his grin didn’t falter. “hey, third time’s the charm, right?”

you sighed, tapping your fingers against your coffee cup as you studied his expression. he looked so hopeful, like he genuinely believed this would work. it was hard to stay mad at someone who cared so much, even if his previous attempts had been disasters. 

still, you weren’t convinced.

“why are you so determined to set me up, anyway?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him. “i didn’t ask for your help, you know.”

evan hesitated, and for a moment, his usual carefree demeanor slipped. his grin faltered, and something flickered in his eyes. a vulnerability you weren’t used to seeing. it was there and gone in an instant, so quick you almost missed it, but it left you with an uneasy feeling.

“because…” he paused, looking down at his hands as he fidgeted with the edge of his sleeve. then, he met your gaze again, his expression softer than before. “i just want you to be happy, that’s all.”

the sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, tugging at something in your chest you didn’t want to acknowledge. you opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. instead, you just stared at him, the weight of his words settling between you.

when the silence stretched too long, you rolled your eyes and muttered, “fine. but if this goes south, you owe me.”

evan’s face lit up, his grin returning. “deal.” he leaned back, looking far too pleased with himself. “you won’t regret this, i promise.”

“mm-hmm,” you said, picking up your coffee again. “we’ll see about that.”

the date was set for friday night at a new restaurant that everyone had been raving about. it was one of those places with dim lighting, sleek decor, and a menu filled with dishes that sounded just fancy enough to justify their price. 

you weren’t sure if it was the kind of spot you’d choose for yourself, but evan insisted it was perfect.

after a last minute call to a friend for a second opinion. you decided on a black dress that made you feel confident. it was simple yet elegant, the kind of outfit that walked the line between effort and ease. you paired it with your favorite heels, the ones that made you a little taller but didn’t leave you regretting your life choices after an hour.

a swipe of your favourite lipstick completed the look. you weren’t expecting to fall head over heels for some random guy, but you figured it couldn’t hurt to look your best.

when you arrived at the restaurant five minutes early, the air smelled like garlic, rosemary, and sizzling butter. the hostess greeted you with a polished smile and guided you to a small table near the window. you had the perfect view of the bustling street outside, where couples strolled hand in hand and taxis honked impatiently.

you glanced at your phone one last time to confirm the details. his name was alex, and according to evan, he was tall, dark haired, and charming in a low key, unpretentious way. you imagined a guy with an easy laugh, someone who could carry a conversation but didn’t dominate it. the thought calmed your nerves, at least a little.

as the minutes ticked by, you alternated between checking the door and pretending to be engrossed in the menu. you ordered a glass of wine to keep your hands busy and your mind distracted. when ten minutes passed, you told yourself he was probably stuck in traffic. fifteen minutes? maybe parking was a nightmare.

by the time twenty minutes had gone by, your confidence started to waver. you tried not to let it show, smoothing your dress and keeping your posture upright, but the excuses in your head began to sound hollow. you resisted the urge to pull out your phone, not wanting to look like someone who had been stood up.

at the thirty minute mark, the reality of the situation was impossible to ignore. your stomach twisted as the truth set in, he wasn’t coming. you stared at the candle flickering in the middle of the table, wishing it would burn down faster so you had an excuse to blow it out and leave.

heat crept up the back of your neck, a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. the restaurant suddenly felt too crowded, the noise of laughter and clinking glasses grating on your nerves. you wanted to crawl under the table and never come out, or better yet, disappear entirely.

you took a sip of your wine, willing it to soothe the knot of disappointment in your chest. so much for first impressions, you thought bitterly.

you pulled out your phone, your thumb hovering over the screen as you debated what to say. frustration and embarrassment warred inside you, but ultimately, you decided there was only one person who needed to hear about this disaster.

you: your friend stood me up. this is officially the worst date of my life.

you stared at the message for a moment before hitting send, feeling both annoyed and vindicated. evan had been so insistent, so sure this guy was perfect, and now you were sitting here like an idiot with a full glass of wine and no date.

the reply came almost instantly.

buck: what??? no way.

buck: stay put. i’ll be there in 15.

you blinked at your phone, rereading the message twice to make sure you hadn’t imagined it. a mix of disbelief and relief settled over you. typical buck, always jumping in like he had to save the day. it was infuriating sometimes, but at this moment, you were just grateful you didn’t have to endure the rest of the evening alone.

the waiter arrived with your wine as you tucked your phone away, and you nodded your thanks, taking a slow sip to calm your nerves. the wine was smooth and rich, but it did little to soothe the knot of frustration in your chest. 

you glanced around the restaurant, feeling more self conscious than ever. it wasn’t like anyone here knew you’d been stood up, but the knowledge gnawed at you anyway.

exactly fifteen minutes later, the sound of the restaurant door opening pulled your attention. you looked up to see evan  walking in. he wasn’t dressed for a night out, just his usual jeans, leather jacket and a fitted shirt that clung to his broad shoulders, but somehow, his casual confidence made him stand out among the suits and dresses in the room.

he spotted you immediately, his face lighting up. with an easy stride, he wove through the tables, his hand brushing the back of a chair or two as he navigated the crowded space. when he reached your table, he slid into the seat across from you, his expression softening into one of genuine concern.

“i’m so sorry,” he said, his blue eyes searching yours. “i swear, if i see that guy again, i’m gonna–”

“buck,” you interrupted, holding up a hand to stop his rant. his protective streak was endearing, but you weren’t in the mood for it. “it’s fine. these things happen.”

his frown deepened, clearly not convinced. “no, it’s not fine. you didn’t deserve that. you deserve someone who’ll show up and actually appreciate you.”

the sincerity in his voice made your stomach flutter, the warmth of his words catching you off guard. you looked away, fiddling with the stem of your wineglass as you tried to brush off the sudden rush of feelings.

“well,” you said after a moment, glancing back at him with a small smile, “you’re here now. so, technically, you’re my date.”

his lips twitched, amusement flickering in his eyes. “guess i am. you cool with that?”

you laughed, the sound easing some of the tension lingering in your chest. “honestly? yeah. you’re already better company than that alex.”

that earned you a smile. the kind that lit up his whole face, made his eyes crinkle at the corners, and had an annoyingly infectious effect on your mood. the warmth in your chest spread further, making you feel unexpectedly… at ease.

“well, then,” he said, picking up the menu you’d been pretending to study earlier. “let’s make the most of it. i hear the steak here is incredible. you in?”

you tilted your head, watching him for a moment as he scanned the menu with genuine interest. he was so easygoing, so quick to step in and turn a bad situation into something bearable.

“yeah,” you said softly, a real smile tugging at your lips. “i’m in.”

for the first time that evening, you felt like the night might not be a total loss after all.

after finishing your meal, which had been filled with laughter and the kind of effortless banter that always seemed to flow between you and evan, the idea of sitting through dessert felt unnecessary. instead, you both decided on a walk, letting the crisp night air clear your heads after the warmth and hum of the restaurant.

the streets glowed under the soft light of streetlamps, their golden halos reflecting off the damp pavement, remnants of a brief rain earlier in the evening. the world felt quieter now, the chatter of passing strangers and the occasional honk of a car fading into the background as you and evan strolled side by side.

“sorry again about tonight,” evan said after a while, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans. his tone was sincere, tinged with the kind of guilt you knew he couldn’t help but shoulder.

you glanced over at him, your heart softening despite your initial irritation. “don’t be,” you replied, your voice lighter than you felt. “i ended up with the better date anyway.”

the corners of his mouth twitched upward, a chuckle slipping from his lips. “well, you’re not wrong. i’m way more fun than alex.” his teasing tone was paired with a grin so mischievous it pulled a laugh out of you despite yourself.

“low bar,” you said, bumping his shoulder with yours as you walked.

“true,” he admitted, still smiling. but when he glanced at you, his expression softened. his gaze lingered just a moment too long, something unreadable flickering in his blue eyes before he quickly looked ahead.

you continued walking, the easy flow of conversation gradually giving way to a silence that wasn’t uncomfortable but rather companionable, steeped in the kind of understanding that only came with knowing someone as deeply as you knew evan.

the city noise faded into the background, leaving just the sound of your footsteps echoing off the empty streets and the occasional rustle of a breeze weaving through the trees above. for once, neither of you seemed in a hurry to fill the quiet, content to simply exist in each other’s presence.

a sudden gust of wind swept through, carrying a sharp chill that had you instinctively wrapping your arms around yourself. the brisk air bit at your skin, you shivered despite your efforts to ward it off.

evan noticed immediately. he always noticed. without missing a beat, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders in one fluid motion, the fabric still warm from his body.

“buck, i’m fine–" you started to protest, reaching up as if to push it off.

“nope,” he interrupted, his tone firm but light. his hands stayed on your shoulders for a beat longer than necessary, steadying the jacket as if daring you to argue. “you’re cold. take the jacket. end of discussion.”

the corners of your lips tugged upward, a small, soft smile breaking through. you pulled the jacket tighter around yourself, the scent of his cologne. a mix of something woodsy and clean, enveloping you. “thanks,” you said quietly, the word holding more weight than usual.

evan gave a little shrug, as if it were nothing, but his lips curved into a smile that reached his eyes. “anytime,” he replied, his voice gentle.

for a moment, you both slowed, your steps falling into sync as the night wrapped around you. the warmth of his jacket against the cool air, the steadiness of his presence beside you, it all felt oddly intimate, like you were sharing something neither of you dared to name.

“you’re too good sometimes, you know that?” you said, breaking the silence after a while. your voice was teasing, but there was an edge of sincerity to your words.

evan glanced at you, raising an eyebrow. “too good? is that a bad thing?”

“not bad,” you admitted, smiling. “just… unfair to everyone else who has to live up to it.”

he laughed at that, the sound rich and easy. “well, i wouldn’t want to disappoint,” he said, his tone light, but the way his eyes lingered on you as he spoke sent a faint flutter through your chest.

you fell into another quiet moment, your steps taking you closer to home. the city seemed to fade away entirely, leaving just the two of you walking together under the glow of streetlights, the rest of the world forgotten.

when you reached your apartment, you both slowed to a stop at your door. for a moment, neither of you spoke. the street was quiet, the soft glow of a nearby lamppost casting long shadows on the pavement. you turned to face evan, the night air carrying a weight you couldn’t quite name.

“thanks for tonight,” you said softly, fiddling with the edge of his jacket. “i really mean it. you didn’t have to come rescue me.”

he shrugged, but there was a vulnerability in his expression you didn’t see often. “of course i did. i wasn’t about to let you sit there alone, thinking you weren’t worth showing up for.”

your heart stuttered at his words, the sincerity in his tone catching you off guard. you opened your mouth to respond, but the way he was looking at you, his eyes searching yours, like he was seeing parts of you even you didn’t understand, stole the words from your tongue.

the silence stretched, filled with a charged tension that made your skin prickle. you could feel your heartbeat quicken, a warmth blooming in your chest that you didn’t want to name. the space between you felt impossibly small, and yet, you found yourself wanting to close it.

“evan,” you started, your voice barely above a whisper.

“yeah?” his voice was soft, tentative, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear what you were about to say.

you hesitated, your breath hitching as you tried to find the right words. but there were none. not for this. so, instead of speaking, you acted. your heart was hammering so hard you were sure he could hear it as you leaned forward.

time seemed to slow as you closed the gap, the world around you fading until all you could see, all you could feel, was him. your lips were a whisper away from his, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours.

but just as you were about to close the distance, he took a step back, his eyes widening in surprise.

“oh,” you breathed, the weight of what you’d just done crashing down on you. “oh my god. i–i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean–”

“wait–” evan started, his voice filled with panic, but the rush of humiliation already had you moving. your hands fumbled with his jacket, your fingers trembling as you shrugged it off and thrust it toward him.

“here,” you said, your words tumbling out in a rush. you couldn’t bear to look at him, couldn’t stand to see whatever emotion was written on his face. “thanks for… for everything. i–i’ll see you at work.”

“hang on, just let me–” he tried again, his tone urgent, but you were already turning away. your shaking hands found your keys, and you all but bolted inside, the door clicking shut behind you before he could get another word out.

the second you were safely inside, you leaned against the door, your chest heaving as you tried to calm the wave of mortification threatening to drown you. the silence of your apartment only made the memory of the last few minutes louder, every detail replaying in excruciating detail.

“what were you thinking?” you whispered to yourself, pressing the heels of your hands against your burning face. the warmth of his breath, the way he’d looked at you, the moment he’d pulled away. it all swirled in your mind, a chaotic mess of embarrassment and regret.

you slid down to the floor, wrapping your arms around your knees as the weight of it all pressed down on you. you’d ruined it. whatever you and evan had, it was over now. there was no coming back from this.

and yet, as you sat there in the quiet of your apartment, part of you couldn’t help but wonder. if he’d pulled away… why had he leaned in so close in the first place?

the next morning, you woke up with a pit in your stomach, the memory of last night replaying in excruciating detail. every glance, every word, every fleeting touch seemed magnified in your mind, and no amount of tossing and turning had been able to shake the heat rising to your cheeks.

you could barely bring yourself to look in the mirror as you got ready for work.

by the time you pulled into the firehouse parking lot, you’d come up with a plan. a simple, effective strategy to survive the day. avoid evan at all costs. it wasn’t exactly foolproof, but you figured if you kept your head down and stayed busy, you could process everything later without risking further humiliation.

but as soon as you stepped inside, your plan crumbled.

evan was waiting for you.

he was leaning casually against the wall near the entrance, his arms crossed, but the second he saw you, he straightened up, stepping directly into your path before you had a chance to slip by unnoticed.

“hey,” he greeted, his tone neutral but his eyes searching your face like he was looking for answers.

your breath hitched, your carefully rehearsed avoidance strategy vanishing in an instant. “hey,” you replied, keeping your voice light and cautious, deliberately avoiding his gaze as you tried to sidestep him.

“can we talk?” evan asked, his tone softer now, almost hesitant.

the question sent a fresh wave of panic through you. you shook your head quickly, brushing past him as if escaping the conversation would erase it altogether. “there’s nothing to talk about,” you said, your words tumbling out in a rush. “let’s just forget it happened, okay?”

evan’s brow furrowed, and you could feel his presence close behind you as you hurried toward the lockers. “no,” he said firmly, his voice low but unyielding. “i don’t want to forget it.”

his words stopped you in your tracks, the weight of them sinking in before you could take another step. your heart raced as you slowly turned to face him, your eyes wide and guarded. “what are you talking about?” you questioned him.

evan’s jaw tightened as if he were struggling to find the right words, and for a moment, he looked almost vulnerable. “last night,” he began, his voice softer now. “it wasn’t–it didn’t mean nothing to me. and i don’t think it did to you either.”

your chest tightened, a thousand thoughts swirling in your head, each one more chaotic than the last. but before you could respond, a voice cut through the tension.

“buck! we need you up here, now!”

bobby's voice rang out from across the room.

evan’s head snapped toward the sound, his expression flickering with frustration as he glanced back at you. he looked torn, his eyes darting between you and the source of bobby’s call.

for a second, it seemed like he might ignore the summons entirely, but the urgency in bobby’s tone made the decision for him.

“don’t go anywhere,” evan said, pointing at you with a look so pleading it made your stomach flip. “we’re finishing this conversation.”

you didn’t answer, your throat too tight to speak as you watched him jog up the stairs. the air seemed to settle heavily around you in his absence.

this wasn’t over. not by a long shot. and judging by the look in evan’s eyes, it wasn’t something you’d be able to run from, no matter how much you tried.

you managed to avoid him for most of the day, staying busy with your own tasks and sticking close to others whenever you were in common spaces. but you couldn’t dodge him forever.

later that evening, as the firehouse settled into its quieter rhythm, evan cornered you in the kitchen while you were refilling your water bottle.

“seriously?” he said, blocking your exit with an exasperated look. “you’ve been dodging me all day.”

“i’ve been working,” you said defensively, avoiding his gaze.

“you know that’s not what i mean,” he said, his tone softening. “we need to talk about last night.”

“no, we don’t,” you said quickly, gripping the edge of the counter. “it was a mistake, buck. let’s just move on.”

his brows furrowed, and he stepped closer. “it wasn’t a mistake. not for me, at least.”

your breath caught in your throat as his words hung in the air.

“look,” he continued, his voice low and earnest. “i know i messed up last night. i didn’t mean to make you feel… embarrassed or rejected. i was just surprised, okay? i wasn’t expecting you to–” he stopped, running a hand through his hair. “i wasn’t expecting you to feel that way about me.”

you stared at him, your pulse pounding in your ears. “well, i don’t,” you said weakly, even though the lie sounded hollow to your own ears.

evan gave you a look. a knowing, disbelieving look that made you embarrassed. “you’re a terrible liar,” he said softly, stepping closer.

“buck, don’t–” you started, but your voice faltered when he reached out, his hand brushing yours where it rested on the counter.

“i’m not trying to make this harder,” he said, his tone gentle. “i just… i need you to know that last night wasn’t one sided. i didn’t pull away because i didn’t want to kiss you. i pulled away because i panicked. you caught me off guard.”

you blinked at him, your mind racing as you tried to process his words. “you… panicked?”

“yeah,” he said, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “i’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you how i feel for weeks, and then you just… did it. you were brave, and i froze.” he hesitated, his voice dropping lower. “i didn’t mean to hurt you. that’s the last thing i wanted.”

the honesty in his voice left you momentarily speechless.

“you really hurt me, buck,” you finally admitted, your voice shaking slightly. “you pulled away like... like i was wrong to even try.”

his face fell, and he stepped closer, “i know,” he said quietly. “i’m so sorry. you didn’t deserve that. you didn’t deserve to feel like you were wrong, because you weren’t.”

his hand finally brushed against yours, tentative but warm, and your resolve faltered.

“i don’t know if i can...” you trailed off, the words tangled in your throat.

“hey,” he said softly, dipping his head slightly to catch your gaze. “i’m not asking you to forgive me all at once. i just... i need you to know that i feel the same way. i’ve felt this way for a long time.”

the weight of his confession left you momentarily speechless. he took another small step closer.

“i should’ve told you sooner,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper now. “i should’ve been braver.”

you let out a shaky breath, your walls crumbling under the warmth in his gaze. “i want to believe you,” you said softly.

“then let me show you,” he said, his tone tender but sure. his fingers curled lightly around yours, his touch slow and careful, like he was giving you every chance to pull away. “if you’ll let me.”

your heart pounded as he leaned in slightly, his movements deliberate and unhurried. you hesitated for a moment, the echo of last night’s hurt still fresh.

“buck...” you started, your voice barely a whisper.

“tell me to stop,” he said, his lips only inches from yours now. “if you don’t want this, tell me to stop, and i will.”

you didn’t tell him to stop.

instead, you closed the gap, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was tentative at first, testing the waters. evan let out a quiet, relieved sound, his hand sliding to your waist as he deepened the kiss, his movements slow and deliberate, like he was savouring every moment.

when you finally pulled back, your forehead resting against his, you were both breathing hard, the air between you charged with unspoken promises.

“i’m still mad at you,” you murmured, though there was no heat in your voice.

“i know,” he said, his lips curving into a small, lopsided smile. “i’ll make it up to you. i promise.”

you let out a soft laugh despite yourself, 

the warmth of his presence melting the last traces of doubt.

reblogs and comments are appreciated ᯓ★

© ialreadymadeyouapromise 2024.

[iwannascreameurekaa]

pjo characters favorite chappell roan looks part two

same warning as the first part hope y'all like ooc stuff

part 1

Lesters favorite is this one from the Midwest princess tour (bonnaroo or something like that) but specifically with the cunt fan

Nicos favorite is the Marie Antoinette themed dress. He likes the wig but honestly he prefers the look with Chappells hair

Wills favorite is the knight look from the vmas he could talk non stop for hours about it and also he's a bi disaster too he's drooling over it idc 

Rachel's favorite is the football player look from idk where the closer is glass Rachel is a wuh luh wuh in some aspect

Tysons favorite is the naked in manhattan music video look. He likes the puffy sleeves and the "marshmallow" hat. Also the phone is cool. 

Alexs favorite look is also from the Jimmy Fallon interview but it's the black swan look. Alex knows cunt when she sees it. When Chappell said "it was some twink at google" Alex was ready to fight for his life to defend Chappell

Ellas favorite is the good luck babe album cover look. She's fascinated with the pig nose and she could rant to someone (probably Tyson) forever about it. She knows every detail about the outfit, from the stones in the rings, to the exact shade of red on the dress.

Clarisses favorite is the eat me look and she is not afraid to say it. She's an animal print girlie okay also she's in my mind a raging lesbian so yk WOMEN

Travis's favorite is the (and this is what ima call it bc I don't think there's actually a name) "smoker mom" vibe look idk. It gives smoker mom and it's awesome. They love it (non binary Travis fans were you at??? Just me.. okay...)

Connors favorite is from the picture you (?) music video. He loves it he's a very emotional guy when it comes to music and by gods picture you is like a symphony of heartbreak 

Reynas favorite is the cowboy look it's cool looking and also she loves the dots and sparkles embedded on the red parts

Thalia favorite look is this specific green blue look I have no idea where it's from or when it was but she loves it. I know this I can feel it in my heart okay also the top piece looks like moss and Thalia gets really sad when she sees miss bc it reminds her of when she was on the run with Luke Grover and Annabeth and those were actually some of the best days for her back then (I'm crying rn I'm sorry)

The hot to go album cover and mv look is magnus's fav it might seem boring to others but Magnus loves the diner look and the aspect of diners in general so

Silenas favorite is the cowgirl look from either the Midwest princess or this might've been when Chappell was opening for Olivia Rodrigo idk. It's shiny it's got accessories it's got TASSELS it's absolutely gorgeous and silena loves it 

Meg really likes the camo look. She won't tell anyone why and the last person that asked her was sneezing daisies for two days. (She told Lester is was because of the gloves. She likes the green gloves. Lester hasn't told a soul, he doesn't dare to.)

Austins fav is this look I have no idea where it's from and I don't even know the full look but from just this I know he'd love it 

Kaylas fav is the biker look from something... I can't remember where this is from but I will figure it out sooner or later

Dakotas favorite is this one again no idea where it's from but it looks like the Midwest princess tour idk

Octavians favorite is this look from chappells performance in Brooklyn NY he's extra and he loves the detail

Hearthstones favorite is the 2024 artist do the year party look and I have no idea how to explain why I just know or his fav is the kink is karma look I am split between the two

And that's the end of the second part like I said before on the first post if I'm missing a character or a look don't hesitate to ask for it

Part 1

[strawberryfairi]

TR Guys + Their Types | HCS

Ran, Baji, Rindou, Hanma 💖 pt 1

⚜️Content: Black Girl Edition🤎 What I could see the guys' types being

RAN

~ I feel like he loves a fashionable girl, specifically that like rich girl style (loves to wear heels, dresses, sun hats, etc). ~ Loves a confident, self-assured woman (I could see him loving a woman that gives off Jessica Rabbit vibes, both style and attitude).

~Definitely loves the hard to get type (not PLAYING hard to get but she just literally is hard to get).

~She'll love luxurious things (vacations, restaurants, etc) and will never say no when he offers her one of those types of experiences. ~She'd also be very kind, maybe even mellow personality wise. Like she's very poised, calm, and well-spoken for sure.

~He'd love a talented woman too! I feel like he'd be shook at a vocalist! That speakeasy, jazz standard vocalist type vibe. A smooth, sultry voice (I imagine her singing Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered by Ella Fitzgerald and Ran's just watching like omg...I'm sat🧎🏻).

~Likes a girl that really likes to nap, and do homey activities! Spending quality time together being inside the house is a must or him! For example: Going out to dinner together somewhere beautiful and expensive then come home and just chill and cuddle together with a movie on until y'all fall asleep!

~I could see him absolutely LOVING and OBSESSING over a big afro! Like imagine this look: A gorgeous yellow sundress, white heels, and that gorgeous afro she created out of a braid out, picked out to perfection and framing her face elegantly. Again...he's sat🧎🏻

BAJI

~I could kind of see two different types of girls for Baji so Imma split this one:

TYPE 1:

~ PATIENT...as a mf! Like, she is not out here getting pissed about every little thing. It takes her a lot of pushing before she'd ever get as mad as Baji does about certain things.

~ She's soft spoken (not necessarily like a meek voice but just calm) yet confident, and has no problem correcting or telling anyone off, she's just not going about it like Baji.

~Very compassionate and values family (this goes for type 2 as well). Baji cares DEEPLY for his mom so naturally I feel like he'd gravitate towards a family girl.

~Definitely loves animals for sure. Like just any animal she's cool with, and they're cool with her. (Them adventurous type girls that'll ride elephants and like...idk touch a shark lol. That ain't me chile)

~I could lowkey see that like chill sense of style for her too. Like not nothing fancy with Ran but more everyday/cute casual wear.

~I think Baji would like (in either type) a locs goddess type of girl. Like something about a girl with locs for my boy Keisuke....he's sat 🧎🏻.

TYPE 2:

~ ZERO PATIENCE....like none. If she's set off all hell is breakin' lose chile. It's every natural disaster happening at the same time if someone makes them BOTH mad (just run...).

~Values family for sure.

~Loud, animated personality! The type of girl where you hear her before you see her coming.

~Does not like animals like that, but is willing to let him show her and maybe warm her up to different kinds of animals.

~I think he'd like the streetwear kinda style. The kind where she can dress it up or down depending on the day or outing, like maybe she'll add in some heels to jazz up the fit, you feel me?

RINDOU

~Like Ran, I think he'd love a talented woman! Art, music, etc, he'd really like that kind of thing!

~I could see Rin liking a cutesy girl for him! Like pink, skirts, just the stereotypical girly things.

~I think he'd love natural hair so much! Like he'd love to just sit and learn how she does it. She'd be the type to do her hair herself.

~He'd like a girl he can share memes and music playlists with!

~Will love a girl that likes to go out, and be taken out to dinners, clubs, etc. Just texts/calls her outta nowhere like "Get dressed nice babe, I'm taking you out"

~Likes a girl with a warm, velvety, low voice. That deep tone that comes across naturally sensual for no reason.

~I think he'd also like the kind of girl that acts a bit bratty just so he can put her in her place (if you know what I'm sayin' sksksksk)

~Since he's all flexible and whatnot, on his elastigirl type beat, he'd definitely like a girl that would be open to learning about stretches and workouts and things! Would for sure like a lil workout buddy.

~He'd like a girl that's good at communicating and being perceptive of other people.

HANMA

~I feel like Shuji likes a girl that acts like she doesn't like his corny jokes, slight chaos, and flirting but really does

~He'll like a funny girl for sure! Not necessarily cracking jokes 24/7, but she has a sense of humor!

~I think he'd like a girl that' loves adventures too. Hanma likes spontaneity so he'd probably gravitate towards a girl that loves doing random things out of the blue!

~Likes an "angelic" kind of girl. Super sweet, kind of innocent, super kind, and just not violent and crazy like him. Definitely can see him with a girl that'll reign that craziness on in (Like, "We can have fun but we ain't bouta be on all dat...")

~I feel like he'd like though, a bad biddie type of girl too. Like she intimidates guys that see her because she looks so beautiful. Comes across scary gorgeous but she's really not like that at all if they get the chance to know her.

~When it comes to her hair, I could see her being a versatile baddie. She'll be natural, wear wigs, get braids/locs, you just never know! She gon' eat whatever style she feels like at any given time!

~I feel like this will also play into her style too. Like she's the kinda girl that will be giving classy baddy one time, casual one day and streetwear another but she absolutely slays each and every aesthetic like it's her main one!

[swingingthehatchetnow]

A few personal CC HCs (and a few thoughts) now that more people have seen it

- HC that Ella and Tadius explore being romantic with each other. Their dynamic works pretty well, but they decide it isn’t for them (I hc Ella as demiromantic heterosexual and Tadius as a disaster bi)

-HC that Ella weaves Starlight into her hair so it’s always with her so the magic is always working

-HC that Rancilda finds a nice bridge and resides there. Some people actually enjoy her riddles

-Justine and Lucy’s comment about their “bastard brother who hunts trolls” was very specific. I wonder if that’s lore to be expanded on in a different Castle story

-I’m so sorry Jeff but I think it’s time to retire your higher register

-I can’t wait until the YT version comes out when they mix the audio with the soundtrack so it’s cleaner. The vocals live were amazing. The harmonies in Facade didn’t come through as well in the digital ticket for example

[bigskyandthecoldgun]

1 2 3

ao3

“This is…not what I signed up for, Eddie,” Steve says, carding his fingers through his hair and repeating the motion to set it back into place.

“This is actually insane,” Eddie agrees, voice fluctuating in volume slightly, and Steve can see his silhouette pacing back and forth behind the tinted window of the booth.

Steve wishes there were a seat closer to him, but the only decent one in the room is the couch by the booth window. He’s sure there’s a second seat in Eddie’s booth, the one that Robin typically sits on; maybe he’ll ask for it later. “Was Joyce serious when she said it’d take her four hours to get help?” he asks, and he watches Eddie nod. Eddie’s got really long hair for a guy—curly, too—and it bounces in sync with his head. Steve groans. “This guy’s gonna kill half the town in four hours!”

Eddie’s pacing abruptly stops, and he grabs the mic. Steve’s headphones squeak with the feedback. “Steve, that is not helpful,” he says.

Shit, yeah. Especially not when Eddie’s doing most of the phone stuff. All Steve has to do is answer the calls and…maybe save somebody’s life. “I know, I know, I just—ugh,” he sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Who is this Whistling Man dude anyway?”

He watches Eddie’s silhouette plop back down in his chair. Must be nice. “He was this serial killer back in the sixties. Henry Creel. Went around in a freaky mask whistling that one song—Ella Fitzgerald, Dream-something—”

“Dream a Little Dream of Me, yeah, I know the one,” Steve says. That must’ve been the song they’d heard before.

“Well, he killed about a dozen people in Hawkins. Mostly teenagers. He had no reason for it—no motive, he just…did,” Eddie explains.

Jesus, that’s dark. “So…what happened to him?” Steve asks. The most he knows is that the guy died at some point. In a town like Hawkins, a serial killer seems so…out of place. On the outside, the town seems like a run-of-the-mill, middle-of-nowhere, normal place. Steve would’ve never guessed it had such a horrifying history.

Eddie’s sigh is crackly over the speakers. “Well…cops chased him over to the abandoned lab, up to Ellis Point. We call it Whistling Point now. And it was—shit, it was on the—it happened on this night, actually,” he says. So…maybe a copycat? “The cops cornered him, and he jumped into the river. His body was never found.”

“Wait, if his body was never found, is he—is he alive? Dead? What’s the story?” Steve asks.

“Story is, he’s biding his time. Waiting to take revenge on the town,” Eddie says in a low, theatrical voice, and Steve rolls his eyes, fighting a smile.

“Okay, okay, that’s the story,” he says. “What’s the truth?”

Because old Henry Creel is probably, like, sixty, seventy years old by now—unless he’d been, like, a teenager killing teenagers—which means that even if he were still alive, revenge-seeking would probably be out of the question. “Other than we have a whistling killer on our hands tonight?” Eddie asks, and Steve nods. “Shit, Steve, I got no idea.”

Steve shifts, uneasy. “Well, I guess we’ll have to end up finding out what we’re dealing with, whether we like it or not,” he mutters. “But—y’know, chin up, man, we’ll do our best.”

“Yeah,” Eddie murmurs, “I guess so.”

“At least we got the word out,” Steve says, though that raises another question. “”What kind of listening figures do we get around this time?”

Eddie gives him a snort-laugh. It’s a nice sound, compared to the literal mortal-peril shouts of Joyce from earlier. “On a Thursday? After midnight? Could be…around thirty-five?” he says, and, huh, that’s not bad.

“Thirty-five, as in thirty-five hundred? I didn’t realize Hawkins had that many people,” Steve says, pleasantly surprised.

“No, thirty-five people,” Eddie clarifies. “At best.”

Yeah, that makes a lot more sense.

“Are you serious? We only have thirty-five listeners?” Steve asks, trying to hold back his laughter. It’s absurd, really, just how far he’s fallen. But it’s his own fault, truly. That disaster back in Chicago…God, it’s a wonder he still has any semblance of a career.

“Yep. Thirty-five. It’s a school night,” Eddie tells him, like that makes it any better.

Steve bites back a smile and pinches the bridge of his nose. “And, uh…what’s the population of Hawkins?” he asks.

Eddie makes an uncertain sort of sound. “I dunno exactly. I’m not secretly an encyclopedia, Steve, but it’s…a little over a thousand, I wanna say,” he says. Steve hums. “How many did you get before your fall from grace, my liege?”

“Oh, you mean before my career exploded and I ended up on a midnight hour talk show in a town of a thousand people?” Steve shoots back, easily playful even though it’s still painful to talk about, a little bit.

Snickering, Eddie toys with something behind the tinted window. “Yeah. Before that.”

That’s a hell of a question. Steve blows out a long breath. “Around five for most shows on the low end, I think. Big guests could pump that up to ten, fifteen, easy,” he recalls. It’s not necessarily that Steve had lived for the attention—although that hadn’t hurt—but it had been nice, honestly, to know that people really enjoyed what he has to say, that people would listen to his ideas and opinions and take them as something with worth.

Eddie lets out a bewildered laugh. “Holy shit, Steve, five thousand on the low end?! We could only dream of that!”

Ah.

“Five million,” Steve corrects.

An unholy noise passes through his headphones, and Steve almost chucks them right off his head, but it stops just as soon as it had started. “Mill-i-on?!” Eddie squawks, pronouncing each syllable like a separate word.

It makes Steve feel a little sheepish. “Yeah, y’know, that’s—sometimes, that’s just the way that it goes,” he murmurs. “At least The Whistling Man hasn’t killed me yet…I guess.”

“I never did ask you—oh, shit, hang on, switch the songs,” Eddie tells him, and Steve watches the ‘on air’ sign flicker back to life as the music fades out.

“Alright, folks, that was Gloria Gaynor’s I Will Survive,” Steve says smoothly, switching out the records. “This next song is Asia’s Heat Of The Moment.”

The sign flickers off. “Nice work,” Eddie commends.

Steve mimes tipping an imaginary hat in Eddie’s direction. He clears his throat. “Uh, you were saying something about—were you gonna ask me something?”

“Yeah, um—I was just gonna say, I never did ask about how that whole thing went down. The Chicago thing,” Eddie says. Steve feels his gut churn with nerves. He doesn’t like talking about this. It’s one thing to know that the person he’s talking to knows about the biggest screw-up of his career, that they had heard the broadcast, but it’s another to explain it himself. “So…are you gonna tell me what happened?”

It’s not as if Eddie’s an asshole. Sure, he can be kind of a dick, and he certainly knows how to take a bit to the worse end of ‘too far,’ but he’s not, like, awful. Steve sighs. “Okay, so…I was interviewing this politician, right?” he starts, and he sees Eddie’s silhouette nod. “And, uh, he was a contributor at the station. Big-wig type deal, y’know? So, I—the PR people working for the people I interview usually give me a list of stuff that’s off the table, a list of topics that they require I bring up, stuff like that, and—anyway, I’m supposed to ask this guy about the platform he’s running on, his policies, whatever.”

Eddie chuckles. “What, you disagreed with your guest? That’s it?”

Steve takes a deep breath. It’s not like he has issues keeping his temper in check, most of the time; he’d used to, when he’d been in high school, but a career in entertainment has really hammered the value of patience into him. “We’re talking about this guy’s campaign. And he starts going on about how his platform is around family values,” he tells Eddie, running a hand through his hair nervously. “So, now he’s talking shit about the ‘dangers of homosexuality,’ and my blood’s starting to boil.”

“He sounds like a douche,” Eddie says, so quiet that Steve almost misses it.

He nods. “Yeah, he is. I try and steer the conversation away, because I’m a professional, and that’s just what you do when there’s some stupid shit happening on your show, but he won’t stop. He won’t shut up about it,” Steve grits out. It still gets him worked up, thinking about what had happened that day. “Next thing I know, I’m coming out on live radio to fifteen million listeners and yelling at some jackass for ruining my show.”

The silence that stretches after he says it makes Steve tense. For the most part, no one in Hawkins has given him shit for what had happened—not directly, anyway. Steve’s still amazed he’d managed to get hired. He thought he’d be blacklisted. For all intents and purposes, he might as well be, but Owens had given him a job here, and that’s more than anyone in Steve’s position could’ve reasonably hoped for.

It’s why he and Robin had become such quick, close friends. The relief that comes with knowing someone else on his show is queer is indescribable. Chicago—his whole career—had been fantastic, he’d done so well, but it had been really isolating. He couldn’t risk his career, which meant he couldn’t go out and meet people, make meaningful connections, without chancing that they’d go to the tabloids if they were to ever break things off with him.

But, hey, at least he’s got nothing to lose now.

“Holy shit,” Eddie breathes at last, but the song’s coming to an end.

The sign flickers on, and Steve swaps out the records again. “Our next song comes to us from our intern’s friend—this one’s for you. Kate Bush’s Running Up That Hill,” he announces, the sign turning off once the music starts up. Steve clears his throat, an all-too-familiar sinking feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. “So…do you totally hate me?”

There’s a half-aborted mix of a squawk and a shriek, and he watches Eddie’s silhouette nearly topple out of his chair. “What?! No! No! Jesus—I wouldn’t—I’m—that’s awful, Steve, I’m…I am so sorry,” Eddie says. “Shit. Shit, it’s so not funny to make fun of your career falling apart, then, oh, Jesus H. Christ.”

Steve lets out a nervous little laugh. “I mean—why did you even make fun of me in the first place?” he asks, because he is kind of curious.

Eddie’s silhouette flaps around in an indecipherable series of gestures. “I thought you were, like, just another radio douchebag! But you’re not! You’re actually a really good dude, and now I feel really bad for making fun of you,” he groans, and Steve smiles at him.

“Well, in your defense, it’s not like I was eager to make the reason why I was fired known,” Steve says. “It’s rare to find someone who doesn’t know why it happened. It was kinda nice, in a weird way…? To get treated like just some guy.”

“Be still, my beating heart! Handsome, charming, and a down-to-earth, good guy? I never stood a chance,” Eddie mock-swoons, and Steve rolls his eyes. “You know, Hawkins is kind of a tiny town, but it’s not, like, awful. I wanna get out of here as much as the next guy, don’t get me wrong, but don’t beat yourself up for ending up here.”

A small smile worming its way onto his face, Steve nods. “Yeah, it’s not half bad. Gotten a couple dirty looks, but you get that anywhere, being queer,” he says, and Eddie inhales sharply. And that…sucks. “I, uh—sorry, I know some people aren’t really cool with just bringing it up casually—”

“No, no, I’m not—I just—I get that,” Eddie tells him gently. “The, um—the dirty looks. I know what that’s like, that’s all.”

Something warm lodges itself into Steve’s chest. “Oh,” he says, “um, cool. Is that because of…?”

“I mean, kind of. I’m—a lot of people assume things, whether or not they have even a grain of truth to them. But they mostly give me dirty looks because they think I’m a satanist,” Eddie snickers. “I mean, I’m not, but—with the way I look, the conclusions people jump to are…definitely understandable.”

Steve tilts his head. “I’ve still never seen what you look like, y’know,” he says, and Eddie’s silhouette tenses a little in the window. “I mean—I’m sure you look—”

“Oh, shit, we’ve got another call coming in,” Eddie tells him, just as Running Up That Hill is beginning to fade into its outro, and Steve clears his throat. “Take it when you’re ready.”

Steve adjusts the volume slider to fade the song out before stopping it completely, watching the ‘on air’ sign flicker back to life as he presses the first phone line button to accept the call. “Hello, caller, you’re live on 189.16—The Scream,” he says smoothly. Then, recalling that this could very well be a 911 call, he winces. “Is everything, uh…alright?”

Heavy breathing is the only thing that he’s met with.

Steve’s brows furrow. “Okay…? Who is this? Are you—hello? Hello?” he tries, because maybe it’s someone that’s been hurt. He hopes it isn’t. Not because he wouldn’t have to deal with the situation, but because he isn’t really sure how efficient Hawkins General’s ambulances are.

There’s just more heavy breathing from the other end.

“Okay, what’s your name, and why are you calling in?” Steve tries, because he can’t help if he doesn’t have any information.

Some whistling comes through the speakers of his headphones, but it’s shaky. The tune isn’t right. “You know my name,” the caller says with a clearly put-on, gravelly voice. “I’ve come back from the dead to kill again! No one is safe!”

Oh, great, some bored dickhead has decided to make light of a murder. “Do you accept requests?” Steve asks, one hip cocked as he crosses his arms. “I’ve got a list of names I’d love to see in the obituaries.”

The caller makes a couple of half-choked noises in confusion. “Uh…maybe,” they say uncertainly. “You must—um—you must make a sacrifice to us—oh, shit—I mean, me! Dude—dude, what do you want? We want cheese dusted pretzels. I mean—! I want cheese dusted pretzels! Or I’ll…cut your face off!”

Eddie groans. “Goddamn kids! I’m cutting them off,” he huffs. He does, and the dial tone is actually a pretty welcome sound this time around. “Sorry, Stevie, I know you’re not big on pranks.”

A small smile makes its way onto Steve’s face in spite of his annoyance. “Needless to say, I won’t be going out to buy anything for these kids, and none of you should be going out tonight, either,” he says. He swaps out the records again. “We’ve got an actual killer out there. Anyway, this next one’s dedicated to all of you staying inside with your doors and windows locked. This is Never Let Me Down Again —Depeche Mode.”

The ‘on air’ sign flickers off. “Hey, Robin just paged. She’s calling in, but she doesn’t want it on air. You good?” Eddie asks, and Steve nods. “Hey, Rob. You’re on with both of us.”

“Guys!” Robin near-shouts, and Steve winces. “Oh my God, okay—Chrissy isn’t home yet. Her jogs never last this long. And I was listening to the show in the car—holy shit, by the way—and now I’m starting to get paranoid, because there’s a killer on the loose, and I just keep thinking about all the different things that could’ve happened, and she took her cell phone, but the thing is huge and clunky, so what if she dropped it while she was getting chased or something? She drives her car all the way out by—”

“Robin, hey, calm down,” Steve says, as soothing as he can make himself sound. “I’m sure she’s okay. Her jogging route goes off Coal Mill, right? That’s so far from the station, and we don’t even know if that whistling asshole is still conscious. Joyce got him pretty good with her taser.”

Robin takes a deep breath. Steve kind of hates that he knows Hawkins’ layout enough to reassure her like this, but how can he really hate it when he hears her quietly laughing in relief on the other end of the line. “Right. You’re right. I’m being—ugh. Sorry, you know how anxious I get sometimes,” she sighs, and Steve hums. “She’s probably just fine. Thanks, Steve. I’ll keep the radio on just in case something does happen, but I won’t go anywhere, don’t worry.”

“You’ll page me if—you’ll page when Chrissy gets home, right?” Eddie asks, and, shit, Steve can’t believe he’d forgotten how close Eddie and Chrissy are.

“Yeah, ’course I will, Eddie,” Robin says, and her voice is soft. “You guys just…keep your heads up, okay? I believe in you. Talk to you soon.”

The dial tone sounds again, and Steve sighs. “Hey, Eddie?” he asks, and Eddie hums. “What the hell was that? Not—not the thing with Robin, the whole…kids pretending to be a killer, who, right now, is stalking the town…thing.”

Eddie groans. “It’s…a thing.”

“A thing?” Steve repeats, incredulous.

“Kids around here, they pull pranks pretending to be The Whistling Man. They think it’s funny! But it’s not. It’s not funny at all,” Eddie mutters darkly.

Steve stews in his own nerves. “So there’s no chance that our Whistling Man was just a prank, right? That Joyce…”

He can hear Eddie swallow. “No, that…that was real,” he says, and Steve swears under his breath, scrubbing a hand over his eyes. He watches Eddie’s silhouette sit up a little straighter behind the tinted glass. “Let’s stay positive! We still have a show to do.”

“I’m gonna need a seat that isn’t halfway across the universe if I’m gonna get through the rest of this,” Steve tells him, gesturing over at the couch. “You got a spare in the booth?”

There’s a long pause.

Steve calls Eddie’s name after a solid thirty seconds of silence. “Yes, I—yeah, I do. Give me a second to put it outside the door,” Eddie says.

“I’ll just come grab it from you,” Steve tells him, “no big deal.”

“No, no, it’s okay, really, I—I’ll just put it out there. Just wait.”

He watches Eddie’s silhouette move towards the corner of the booth, and Steve makes his way over to the door. They’ve got, like, a little over a minute left until the song’s done and they’re left with dead air, so he might as well save them some time. The hall’s wide and warm, and Steve waits outside the door to the sound engineer’s booth, hands in his pockets. The door swings open, and he’s face-to-face with Eddie Munson for the first time since he’d arrived in Hawkins.

Eddie’s eyes are wide with surprise, big and brown under the curly bangs of his hair, the rest of the curls cascading down just past his shoulders. He’s pale, with a light line of freckles right under his eyes, going across his nose, and his plush, pink lips are parted in a perfect ‘o.’ He stands up straight—he’s about Steve’s height, maybe a little shorter—and brushes a lock of hair behind his ear, ringed fingers catching slightly on the dark curl. Steve follows the line of his arm, scans over the tattoos there, and he registers the giant letters of some heavy metal band sprawled across Eddie’s shirt, right over his chest. His eyes drag back up to Eddie’s face, a pretty pink color slowly spreading over his cheeks as Steve looks at him.

He’s kind of gorgeous.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, no.

[whichuniverseisthis]

Part two of giving Pokémon to the td cast, this time with Pahkitew Island. I was already picking at straws for some of them. The first part with the reboot cast is here.

Amy: Volbeat - I thought about the two Pokémon people probably confuse the most. You know, beside Silcoon and Cascoon.

Beardo: Tympole - I tried to think about all the sound based Pokémon, and I believe this one is the closest thing to what Beardo does.

Dave: Minccino - This was probably the easiest of them all. A clean freak and a Normal type is just Dave coded.

Ella: Swablu - A singing, little bird with cotton as its wings. Mega Altaria later is even a Fairy type.

Jasmine: Roserade - She wants to open some kind of flower store if I remember correctly, and Roserade is a pretty cool and strong flower Pokémon, it seemed very fitting for her.

Leonard: Dunsparce - People want to believe it's secretly OP, but the truth is it's just a dumb think.

Max: Pancham - A bully who wants to be the bad guy, but can only reach their full evil potential if a more evil creature is with them (Scarlett and other Dark types).

Rodney: Bewear - The biggest, softest bear in existence.

Sammy: Illumise - Look at Amy above.

Scarlett: Malamar - The XY anime probably traumatized me enough for this one. Well, they do have the same hair, I think.

Shawn: Absol - Look, I know Absol is too cool for Shawn, but hear me out: Absol is believed to bring disaster, and Shawn is a doomsayer who thinks the apocalypse is upon us. It's perfect.

Sky: Mienshao - I really had no idea what to give her. Mienshao seemed like the most fitting Fighting type to represent her agility.

Sugar: Oinkologne - I originally wanted to give her a Miltank, but then I found out about this thing (reminder that I haven't played SV) and I couldn't not give a fucking pig to her.

Topher: Sudowoodo - Trying to imitate specific things and failing.

[the-slapshot-series]

Welcome to the Slapshot Series!

Enter below ⬇️

To get you started here is how this series works. Each story is interconnected through the casts, knowing each other in some way, shape or form. Each book can be read as a stand alone, but after book 1, there will be spoilers through each book that will point to a chapter or event that had happened in a previous book. This won't affect the outcome of you reading the story you picked, but reading in order will help you understand some things within the story. (but the path you choose is totally up to you! Don't feel obligated to read about a player you don't like.) Below is the books in order of how I would read them based on the events that happen within each story. Main blog Masterlist

*** Loosely based around the song "God Made Airplanes" by Jason Aldean. Set in 2021***

Tyler Seguin thought he found the woman of his dreams. A perfect girl, a perfect engagement and the soon to be perfect wedding, he had everything down to a T. Or so he thought. Just a few short weeks before what was supposed to be the most perfect day of his life, turned into him booking a one way flight to Pittsburgh to spend the summer with his Best Friend and forget about his cheating ex fiancee. Wanting to shut out the world, his parents and most of his friends for the time being, Tyler find refuge with the only person who really seems to know the real him, Arabella Kerfoot, who plays for the Pittsburgh Penguins. While spending his summer hiding away, his best friend not so sneakily plays match maker with her childhood best friend, Quinn Canton. Sparks soon begin to fly, and a whirlwind summer romance takes hold of these two burnt out hearts. But when hockey starts back up, and old partners come back to burn them to ashes, can they withstand the distance between them, or will it be to much for them to handle?

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Arabella Kerfoot is the younger sister of Alex Kerfoot and she one of the only female hockey player in the league. Ella as she likes to go by is the wild child of the family and also of the Pittsburgh Penguins. With a reputation of the "Wild Cinderella" Ella is the media's #1 target. Her best friend is Tyler Seguin, who had a bad reputation in Boston before going to Texas, so he understands her better then her own family and is trying to help work through her rebellious reputation. After a wild and not so pretty night out on the town Ella is quickly not the favorite anymore in Pitt and is soon traded to Toronto who is looking for a power forward with the speed and risky skill set she brings to the table. The catch: they need to fix her tarnished reputation before the Toronto media tears her apart. The solution: have her fake a relationship with Morgan Rielly to show she is determined to settle down and leave her wild Cinderella life behind, and make a fairytale lifestyle in Toronto instead. Only Ella wasn't planning on falling for the red haired man who offered the solution to her problems. With the media and her brother breathing down her neck to fix her past, her best friend telling her that a fake relationship will only hurt her and the man she never new she needed in front of her, she is about to ether live out a Hockey-Ella fairytale or an ultimate disaster.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

[lovecanbesostrange]

*nasal voice* as an artist: movie ask 3! also 5 and 11 (bc I, too, love me some "problematic" tropes sometimes)

3. Post a screenshot and ramble on about why this one frame visually appeals to you (colors, blocking, expression, set decoration whatever).

omg this question is so hard. It could be random, like pick the last movie, take a screen, write. But I ended up clicking through dozens of films, watching a lot of fav moments. From Firth & Moore on the carpet in A Single Man, to Ken Watanabe standing in front of Godzilla in G:KotM, then the whole ending to Midsommar, had a quick cry about seeing the hanging shoes in Jojo Rabbit, looked at the way Amy returns in Gone Girl, that shot through the bars in Hustlers, or all the gorgeous bizarre shots that make up Annihilation, also I went through the whole of Fox' X-Men franchise, because I have so many moments I cherish (it is the best superhero franchise as a whole, even though the parts alone are mostly just mediocre, the sum of it is amazing)... then I was downstairs for a snack and a tv spot reminded me that Cruella exists, so I cave with this one:

You hear the name Cruella and what do you think about? Dalmatians and a black&white theme. With the fur she wants and the hair she has. And then this movie gives us a theme party. And it is very, very important that everything is strictly black and white only. It's a whole thing. Except Cruella has a plan and she's gonna be a distraction. She is disruption. She will make everybody look. With the color red. And I am here for it!

This moment was in all the trailers, you know it's coming. Yet while watching I'm always excited nearing this fabulous entrance. And it's not the effect of how she gets rid of her white coat with the flame, it's the absolute contrast to everything around her. Perfectly framed in... a door frame. An entrance for the ages. Introducing herself. Introducing the alter ego. The different persona. I am so here for that.

The whole film is about style. The visuals are gorgeous, the music filling the rest of the mood. This is what movies are for! Colored pictures in motion with sound - to invoke feelings. And here you know something big is happening. There is a stage set. It's all planned. In-story for the characters and for the viewers watching the screen.

There is nothing new or super groundbreaking. It's all about using well known tools in an effective way. And it tells us something about the character. Ella is used to being in the background, while dreaming about fashion she tries hard to not stand out (that would interfere with her little criminal endeavours and get unwanted attention for sure). But this is the birth of Cruella on the scene. Bold. Loud. Drawing all eyes on her. (And also startling people, because being a bit scary is fine.)

*chef's kiss* Sometimes a little bit of flair is all I need. Not even attached to any emotional outburst. Can we just applaud films for using the full spectrum of the medium for its own sake every once in a while, just to entertain?!

5. A character who deserves their own spin-off.

The very obvious, tumblr-friendly answer: Riley Johnson (Aubrey Plaza) from Happiest Season. Show me her life, show me she's good at her work and give me some fun disaster dates she goes on, trying to find somebody a bit more longterm. Witty, forgiving, a bit guarded and then opening up in a non tragic way. Hmm, sadly that's it. I don't even have fancasts for a row dates or anything. Just give me romcom fun with a dash of that specific Plaza-charme. (Not against reuniting her with Rachel Keller from Legion.)

11. A trope or setting you know is mishandled a lot and carries a huge problematic/toxic burden, yet you do enjoy it?

I am highly aware how terrible representation and portrayal of anything mental health/illness related films (and tv) overall are. Especially how most people are not knife wielding dangers to the general public. I am very much about treating people with dignity and respect, not judging but helping. I have seen/experienced things, I know reality.

However horror (next to sci-fi) is my fav genre. And you give me a movie that starts with "in a mental asylum", I'm in. Be it A Nightmare on Elm Street 3 with teens thrown in a hospital (despite telling the truth and not self-harming) or Grave Encounters with supernatural shenanigans in a former bad place. I love M. Night Shyamalan's Split, because James McAvoy plays all those personalities so well. Nobody ever should think about that film when talking about actual disassociative identity disorder!

We need to have that conversation about demonizing mental illness. But yes, here I sit being audience for horror films using it as a gimmick (always glad when it leans into supernatural territory).

I am also absolutely the audience for films like Girl, Interrupted or One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. Both dvds are on the shelf. Great films. But sometimes I just want John Carpenter's The Ward or plain old Psycho. A film like The Babadook working with metaphors for deep dark soul dives isn't exactly an easy watch, so I'll take some "criminally insane" slashers as well.

[glamgoblin]

Get to know me ask game

RULES: bold the ones that are true & tag 10 people to do it.

Tagged by the adorable @ella-norah ty for the tag!!!!

Appearance

blonde hair // I prefer loose clothing to tight clothing // I have one or more piercings // I have at least one tattoo // I have dyed or highlighted my hair // I have gotten plastic surgery // I have or had braces // I sunburn easily // I have freckles // I paint my nails // I typically wear makeup // I don’t often smile // I am pleased with how I look // I prefer Nike to Adidas // I wear baseball hats backwards

Hobbies and Talents

I play a sport // I can play an instrument // I am artistic // I know more than one language // I have won a trophy in some sort of competition // I can cook or bake without a recipe // I know how to swim // I enjoy writing // I can do origami // I prefer movies to tv shows // I can execute a perfect somersault // I enjoy singing // I could survive in the wild on my own // I have read a new book series this year // I enjoy spending time with friends // I travel during work or school breaks // I can do a handstand

Relationships

I am in a relationship // I have been single for over a year // ✨I have a crush✨// I have a best friend who I’ve known for ten years // my parents are together// I have dated my best friend // I am adopted // my crush has confessed to me // I have a long distance relationship // I am an only child // I give advice to my friends // I have made an online friend // I met up with someone I have met online

Aesthetics

I have heard the ocean in a conch shell // I have watched the sun rise // I enjoy rainy days // I have slept under the stars // I meditate outside // the sound of chirping calms me // I enjoy the smell of the beach // I know what snow tastes like // I listen to music to fall asleep // I enjoy thunderstorms // I enjoy cloud watching// I have attended a bonfire // I pay close attention to colors // I find mystery in the ocean// I enjoy hiking on nature paths // autumn is my favorite season

Miscellaneous

I can fall asleep in a moving vehicle // I am the mom friend // I live by a certain quote // I like the smell of sharpies // I am involved in extracurricular activities // I enjoy Mexican food // I can drive a stick shift // I believe in true love // I make up scenarios to fall asleep // I sing in the shower // I wish I lived in a video game // I have a canopy above my bed // I am multiracial // I am a redhead // I own at least 3 dogs

Tagging @loveable-sea-lemon @wintercrushes @disaster-j but zero pressure as always!!

[xkiriaxx]

Not so true... // Ashlynn Ella

Squeal of Briar x fem reader

Prompt: this takes place after the true hearts day party where Hunter and Ashlynn broke up (male reader will be refer as Satoru/yes going to use JJK Satoru Gojo), son of the strongest sorcerer although weaker than Luna (female reader), as Ashlynn was in danger, he jumped in to save the day or that's what they all think but in reality it's Briar girlfriend, Luna (fem reader/y/n)

True Hearts Day party, where the atmosphere is vibrant and filled with joy. Ashlynn stands near the enchanting decorations, her gaze soft as she watches the students dance and mingle. Amidst the cheerful ambiance, there's an undercurrent of tension due to her recent breakup with Hunter.

Ashlynn adjusted the floral arrangement on the table, trying to distract herself from the lingering ache in her heart. She caught glimpses of Hunter across the room, his eyes occasionally meeting hers before darting away. It was a bittersweet reminder of what once was.

Meanwhile, Satoru, the enigmatic and powerful sorcerer, leaned casually against a nearby wall, his blue eyes scanning the room behind his sunglasses. His sharp senses picked up on the unease in Ashlynn's demeanor, despite her attempt to hide it behind a soft smile.

Satoru observed Ashlynn discreetly, noticing her glances towards Hunter and the slight quiver in her voice when she greeted her friends. Unbeknownst to everyone else, Satoru had a connection with Luna, the mysterious silver-haired heiress, who was hiding in plain sight at the party.

As the festivities continued, a sudden commotion disrupted the celebration. A magical mishap caused the towering ice sculptures to teeter precariously, threatening to collapse and potentially harm the students.

Reacting swiftly, Ashlynn sprang into action, using her innate ability to communicate with animals to summon the forest creatures. However, before she could avert the disaster, Satoru swiftly intercepted, weaving intricate spells that stabilized the sculptures, shielding the students from harm.

Gasps of relief echoed through the room as the crisis was averted, everyone unaware that it wasn't Ashlynn but Luna who orchestrated the rescue behind the scenes.

Ashlynn, her heart racing from the adrenaline, turned to Satoru with a mix of gratitude and surprise. "Thank you! That was amazing!"

Satoru merely offered a casual smirk behind his sunglasses. "Just doing my part."

Throughout the rest of the evening, Satoru and Ashlynn found themselves drawn to each other, sharing lighthearted conversations and laughter. As the night wore on, they found solace in each other's company, a welcome distraction from their respective heartaches.

Luna, observing from the sidelines, couldn't help but smirk at the unfolding events. She exchanged a knowing look with Briar, her girlfriend, who grinned mischievously, realizing that fate might have something unexpected in store for Ashlynn and Satoru.

The party continued with renewed energy, and amidst the dancing and laughter, a subtle shift occurred, weaving the threads of destiny in ways unforeseen by the attendees.

As the night drew to a close, Ashlynn and Satoru found themselves lingering, reluctant to part ways. There was an unspoken connection between them, a spark of something new and unexpected that had blossomed amidst the chaos of True Hearts Day.

Little did they know, this chance encounter was only the beginning of an unforeseen journey that would intertwine their lives in ways they never imagined possible.

The night ends with Ashlynn and Satoru exchanging shy smiles, a hint of newfound hope glimmering in their eyes, while Luna and Briar share a knowing glance, silently acknowledging the brewing romance that fate seemed to have in store for their friends.

[tragcdyfallen]

This woman captivated every ounce of his awakening soul. Thoughts and dreams, they all began to intermingle and he couldn't find it within himself to decipher. He couldn't leave now though if she truly requested his departure then he would accept it, grumbling along the way. He didn't want to walk away now. Withstanding the emotions swirling like a vortex that only they were caught in, he stepped closer. The ambient sounds of outsiders fades into the oblivion of inconsequential.

His fingers twitched at the sound of her voice, soft and too fragile. Another urge soars through his being, the urge to soothe her. That wasn't in his nature, at least he wasn't sure of that anymore. Her presence raised something within him that he couldn't formulate. He knew with certainty that his soul reached for hers, he just didn't know why. His brows furrow in confusion, trying to comprehend every word she told him. Complicated? " I don't think it is. Not really. "

Brushing away a stray strand of her hair, his eyes never leaving hers. Ella burst into his life and he wasn't scared of the disaster she might leave in her wake. He would pick up every broken piece if that was what made her happy. " That is something I will not do, Ella. I'm already quite comfortable here by your side. Leaving you to whatever is troubling you is not an option for me. " he finally spoke, " What are you so afraid of? " and how can I vanquish it?

Nothing had changed. A few moments alone with him and she became the person she truly felt she was. Not what anyone else expected or asked of her, just... Ella. He'd been the only one who had ever been able to do that, and she knew too well why it was. It was him, it was always going to be him. Why had fate done this to them? Why was it doing any of this?

"I don't" she replied softly. It had been where she had gone wrong, that promise to her father that she wouldn't leave. Instead letting herself be beaten down into someone she didn't recognise all to hold onto a promise. Wasn't that the irony of it, it took him seeing her for who she was that made her strong enough to leave, and now he didn't see her, not anymore.

In her heart she knew she should pull away, yet she didn't. "Chris... you don't understand how complicated it is" and what was she meant to do? Tell him he was from a fairytale? He needed to be free. "It already hurts, more then you know. But that is mine to handle, I won't let it hurt you as well" now she likely wasn't making any sense, but this was the kind thing to do. She could handle her broken heart, she wouldn't hurt his.

[llama--plumbobsims]

[patrice-bergerons]

Ahhh these prompts look so fun! If you are still taking prompts, maybe 6 (head pat) or 18 (squishing the other’s check)? Any pairing is fine, and no pressure or course.

Sorry this took me ages! I offer 00q and kid fic shenanigans alongside my apologies-

“Do that again and I’ll kill you.”

Good God.  

Bond’s voice drifts through the hallway and makes Q break into a near run, except it is shortly followed by a chorus of giggles.

Giggles of pure delight.  

Then again, perhaps Q should not be surprised.  Perhaps the only one who can understand the chaos demon children is a chaos demon himself.

He looks up to the metaphorical heavens for strength and approaches the room with trepidation, afraid of what horrors await him inside. 

What he finds is this:

Bond is sitting on the edge of the sofa, flanked by Q’s three nieces on all sides.  Lessi, lounging to his right, has Bond’s hand hostage and is busy—dear Lord—painting his nails hot pink—directly on the sofa cushion itself to boot.  Ella, standing behind him, has made a plastic tiara meant for a head half as small fit on Bond and is now piling his hair with small hair clips, with her twin, standing to Bond’s left, in charge of the supply chain and coordinating the artistic vision.  

The revelation that Q’s eldest sister’s husband has been cheating on her has forced an emergency family meeting.  Bond was lounging at Q’s house when the call came, and hearing that neither sister could secure childcare, and for a completely inexplicable reason, volunteered himself for the task. 

That’s that then, Q thinks, taking in the tableaux in front of him with a twinge in his chest—no doubt for any alternative careers Bond may have envisioned in nannying post-retirement but also for-  Well, Bond was at his place only out of boredom and despair to begin with.

“Girls,” he says, crossing his arms at his chest and dusting off a tone of voice he tends to reserve for misbehaving 00s, “we said no dress up.”

They notice him then, all four of them; Bond’s eyes are as piercing and blue as ever when he looks up.  But if he meant to say something, the little criminals cut him to the quick.

“We are only helping him,” Lessi offers, a bit miffed to have to state something so obvious.

“He likes it!” Ella agrees, putting another clip on Bond’s hair.

Millie squeezes his cheek, nearly giving Q a heart attack.  “And he is simply adorable.”

You silly child, Q thinks sharply.  You don’t say or do that to a 00 and expect to live.  

Not that Bond would ever harm them, Q knows that, Christ.  But.  He has a temper and this is too much to expect anyone who is not family to put up with.

“Alright-” Q says, striding to the sofa to snatch Millie away, when Bond turns first to her and then to him.  

“Isn’t Q- Colin the adorable one?”

Q stops mid-step.  

Perhaps it is hearing Bond say his given name and perhaps it is the cadence of his voice or the smile dancing on his lips.  Once when Q was sick-  He was running a terrible fever and Bond was there then, in his flat, somehow, his hand cool and dry against Q’s clammy forehead.  Q was babbling.  I swear if you don’t leave 007, I will make sure all your pens explode, explode ink all over your expensive suits, yeah, every one of them and then you will have nothing at all to wear…  And instead of leaving, Bond had given him a smile.  This smile.  The way Q thinks he might be over the comms sometimes, on the odd mission where they have all the time in the world and no one can see.  

Adorable—not many people call Q that and live to tell the tale either.

The girls agree, if their assessment is a bit harsh.  Following a chorus of “noooo”s,

“He is ugly,” Ella declares.

“He is boring,” Millie adds.

“And we dress him up all the time,” Lessi finishes.

Bond on the other hand—he kind of is, between the tiara with plastic blue gems that match his eyes and the disaster trio having the time of their lives around his shoulders.  For a split second Q is taken by a vision of him at piano recitals and football games, squeezing Q’s hand, tiptoeing ever so quietly down the stairs after bedtime to give Q-

To give Q another look, this time one that burns in Q’s cheeks.

“Do you, now?” 

Ah.

“I find the path of least resistance to be the best babysitting tactic with this lot,” Q says, gesturing in the direction of his nieces.

It is the truth, or close enough to it at any rate.  He reels back the foot he had suspended mid-air like a cartoon character.  He is a gay man who has grown up with two sisters and Six does not get to see that side of him.  

Bond chuckles as his hair gains, this time, a butterfly shaped clip.

“You and me both.”

Q searches his frame for telltale signs of tension and finds none.  

“You alright?” he asks, still.  

He has come here to check up on Bond who gives such little thought to decisions he commits himself to, when, nevermind Silva and his kind, this lot will eat you alive if you so much as blink.  He has a temper and little experience when it comes to kids.

But Bond says “don’t worry about us,” and his eyes are equal parts fond and determined.

Perhaps this is what he looks like before walking into a fight reason says he cannot win.  Perhaps this is what he looks like on a Sunday afternoon when golden light slants in from the windows and the world slows down just for the span of one breath.

He will no doubt expect to be repaid in kind and make Q’s life hell. 

This was no doubt a terrible idea from the start.

And still.

Still.

[aheathen-conceivably]

As the days grew longer, the beaches more crowded, and the weather warmer, Rosella knew that it was almost over. Georgiana’s allotted time at the manor began soon, and in turn she would have to return as well. George had told her that she could remain as her ladies maid, but the prospect of returning to Henford and living as a servant, lying to to her family and the world, was impossible for Rosella to bear.

George had played this part all her life, and Rosella couldn’t possibly ask her to stay here. After all, her husband and her family all knew of the house’s location. Sooner or later, they would come for her, and the affair would end in disaster rather than in pained charades. So, stuck in an impossible situation, the women were lying together, silently lost in melancholy thought.

As George absentmindedly stroked Rose’s hair she looked down to see that Rosella was crying. “Rose,” George said, wiping a tear away from her cheek, “I’ve lived this way with Lord Harrington for almost a decade, running from one house to another, smiling on cue and living my true life in the shadows. I’m so very tired of pretending. I don’t want to go back. I love you; I don’t know if I can even bear to go back again.”

It was all Ella had been waiting to hear; she rolled over onto Georgiana, her eyes shining as she leaned in to kiss her.

“No, Rose, wait,” George said, gently pushing her away, “What do you know of America? I know I’m asking so much of you, but I can have Mrs. Peaton pack my belongings and book us tickets on the finest steamer. By the time Lord Harrington realizes that I’m not coming home, we’ll be halfway across the Atlantic. We won’t live the way we did in Henford, or even here, but I can sell my gems and we can find somewhere to stay without anyone else’s demands.”

As George continued to explain her plan Rosella fell back onto her shoulder, staring forward as reality overtook the dreams she had envisioned. She wanted to be with George, but who knew what kind of life actually awaited them in America. Surely it wouldn’t be as easy as George hoped and Lord Harrington would certainly send men after them. And then she would never see her parents or her siblings again….

[charmingkit]

"It's not much," Kit grinned at Ella, reaching out to playfully mess with her blonde hair. "You never take too much. So I guess it's time to bake for the baker, don't you think?" He was always deeply grateful to have her around. Ella had a way of making him feel like he could truly be himself without the weight of expectations on his shoulders. Kit had always been generous with her, giving her money and writing her checks that she rarely cashed unless absolutely necessary. Ella's contentment with whatever she had, coupled with her insatiable curiosity about the world, was incredibly alluring to him. He admired the way she spoke and carried herself, always grounded and hopeful, lifting everyone else in the room with her.

"I did anticipate this mishap, not gonna lie," Kit chuckled slightly, moving over to the counter to fetch a small box. He knew he was a disaster in the kitchen, but he had to try. Nevertheless, he also had a plan B up his sleeve. Inside the box was a vintage book he had personally requested from Belle. It was one of Jane Austen's original works, wrapped in expensive leather.

"Go on, open it," Kit urged with a grin, extending the box towards Ella, eager to see her reaction. It was a small price to pay for all the hard work she had done for him. She was not merely a maid, but rather a friend to him and everyone in the mansion. Ever since her arrival at the estate, the mood had been uplifting and nourishing. Ella was like a ray of sunshine to everyone, especially to him. Not only was she a delight in his eyes, but somehow he knew that despite her role as a maid, Ella had so much more potential. It was as if she was out of place, with the amount of grace and potential she possessed. "Well, why not?" Kit shrugged his shoulders, taking her up on her suggestion.

⋆⋆⋆ ❧ ⋆⋆⋆

Ella woke up that morning, feeling as though it was to be another normal day. Of course, she knew this was the anniversary of her leaving the Tremaine's for good which also meant it was when she started working here. She knew exactly what home she left and which one she fell into. It was nice to have anywhere that she was able to be herself, not to mention Kit wasn't hard to help out. In fact, she actually quite loved her job. Cooking, cleaning, and taking care of things around the house, it was what gave her purpose. Ella knew people might not understand but she did enjoy her job. It helped when her boss was also the man Ella longed for and never spoke a word of it. Even on days like today when she needed to get groceries, she loved to go through the farmer's market and gather things. Her mind was always making up new recipes or finding beautiful bouquets for the vases that week.

Once getting back to the house she heard a clamor in the kitchen and her eyebrows furrowed. She wasn't sure who else would be there until she rounded the corner, a smile breaking out on her lips as she saw him. Though he might not be the baker of the two of them, the sentiment meant more than he knew. "Don't tell me you did all this for me?" The girl's eyes softened as she looked to his and set the bags on the counter, walking over to where he stood. As she reached out to take one he beat her to it, her lips curling into a smile, and placed the cupcake back. "Why don't we try it together? If you don't mind the company, that is." Ella drew back, not wanting to assume. Sometimes she found herself wondering if he saw the girl that night in her eyes ever but didn't want it to be her. It was better this way or that's what she told herself, it was what needed to be.

[katelynnwrites]

Ona Battle being protective on the field over het gf ? Really just anything with Ona 🙈

pairing: Ona Batlle x f!Reader

warnings: blood and injury

word count: 1477

summary: your girlfriend’s had a bad feeling all day and when you get injured on the pitch, she realises why.

a/n: been a hot minute since i’ve written anything but im back now, anon i hope you like this :)

Bad Feelings

‘Hey. Are you okay?’

You put a hand on Ona’s thigh, halting her restless bouncing that hadn’t stopped since you’d pulled out of the driveway.

She sighed, looking out the window.

‘It’s nothing.’

‘Ona come on. What’s wrong?’ You’re worried because this wasn’t a big game. Just a home game against Birmingham City. The last team meeting had been full of confidence but your Spanish girlfriend had been jumpy and anxious from the moment she’d woken up. She was rarely nervous before games so the sudden change in her behaviour was troubling you.

‘You’re going to think it’s silly but I can’t seem to shake the feeling that something’s off.’ Ona admitted, fidgeting in her seat.

You stop at a red light.

‘Look at me.’

Ona hesitates before doing so and you kiss her gently.

‘You’re going to do great. The team’s gonna do great. We’ve practiced and we’ve trained hard. You’re amazingly talented and all we’ve got to do is play well like we always do okay?’

Ona nods, some of the uncertainty in her brown eyes fading away as she meets your gaze.

The light changes and you continue driving with Ona’s hand resting on top of yours, all the way to the stadium.

******

Her hand doesn’t leave yours and you rub soothing circles onto it as she finishes getting ready for the game. You knew her unusual clinginess was due to her needing reassurance and you were happy to provide it.

You notice her biting her lip anxiously and you tug on her hand.

‘Relax my love. You’re going to be brilliant. I know it.’

Pulling her into a tight hug, you play with the baby hairs at the back of her neck knowing that it never fails to calm her down.

As you had predicted, Ona relaxes into your touch, mumbling a quiet ‘Thank you.’ into your ear.

******

The first half comes and goes pretty easily, you’d scored, Alessia had scored and Ella had scored twice, giving United the clear upper hand as Mary had done well to keep a clean sheet.

Marc had given his half time talk and Ona had stayed glued to your side the entire time.

As you prepared to walk back out, Ivana caught you by the arm with a concerned look.

‘Is Ona alright?’

‘Yeah she just has a bad feeling about this game.’

The Brazilian frowns in confusion but you rush out a brief apology as you realise Ona is coming back up the tunnel towards you, probably wondering what was taking you so long.

******

Ona’s eyes follow you as you walk back to your position, the fake smile she’d plastered on her face to reassure you fading. That feeling of impending disaster had come back in full force now that you were back on the pitch. She hadn’t told you earlier because she couldn't bring herself to worry you but the bad feeling was not for her. It was for you.

******

You didn’t quite know how it happened but one second you were running and the next you were on the turf, blinding pain radiating through your body.

******

Ona heard the collision first, heard you scream in pain before she saw you fall. And then she was sprinting across the length of the pitch till she was at your side. She’d never felt so much panic before.

******

You were crying. All you could do was cry as someone gently turned you over.

The voices above you were muffled, ringing as you sobbed in pain. You couldn’t see where you were injured but it hurt. It hurt so bad you could barely breathe.

‘Breathe baby.’

Ona’s familiar Spanish accent was the one thing that could cut through the fog you were in.

Your girlfriend grips your hand tightly and you whimper.

‘Breathe for me. Come on, you can do it.’ Ona’s voice cracks with worry but she tries her best to keep you from seeing her panic.

Someone’s yelling for the medics and you can hear people arguing in the distance but Ona helps you block it all out by gently lifting your head into her lap.

‘Breathe with me. In and out. In and out.’ She coaxes and you focus on her instructions instead of the pain.

Her hands are light and soothing as she brushes your sweaty hair off your forehead.

‘Ona it hurts so bad.’ You gasp out, squeezing her hand tightly.

‘I know bebé but the medics are on their way and you’ll be okay.’

No sooner had she said that then the trainers were surrounding you, taking one look at you and calling for a stretcher.

******

You cry out again as they lift you onto it, the sound making Ona’s heart break.

‘I promise I’ll be with you as soon as I can.’

Ona presses a kiss onto your forehead, squeezing your hand one final time as she watches you get carried off the pitch.

It’s only then that she turns around, storming up to the Birmingham player who had tackled you and punching her in the face.

‘That was a dirty tackle and you know it!’ She angrily shouts, fighting Ivana as her best friend tries to pull her away.

Players from both teams rush to break up the fight but Ona wouldn’t relent, screaming in Spanish as she struggles to get free of Ivana’s grip on her.

Eventually the referee blows her whistle and manages to get both teams to separate.

Without hesitation, she shows Ona the red card and the Spanish fullback gives one last glare to the Birmingham player, feeling grimly satisfied when she sees that her nose is bleeding profusely. The normally calm and sweet girl throws a dirty look at the referee before walking off the pitch.

******

She’s made to wait outside the medical room though. No matter how much she argued with the medical staff, she wasn’t let in.

That left her to sit outside, angry tears making their way down her face.

When the match ended, Ivana came and gave her a hug which only made Ona cry harder.

‘I knew I had a bad feeling about the game and I didn’t warn her. Now she’s hurt because of me.’

The door to the medical room opens before Ivana can say anything and Ona rushes into the room, pushing the medic aside.

******

‘Hey.’ You weakly smile at her from where you’re propped up on the bed and Ona exhales in relief.

She takes you in, noting your bandaged leg and dried tears tracks on your face.

‘How bad is it?’ She asks cautiously.

‘It needed some stitches and they think it’s fractured. I have to go to the hospital to get it checked tomorrow.’ you explain, voice wavering at the thought of not being able to play the sport you loved.

‘Mierda! I should have broken her ankles.’ Ona swears and you frown, for the first time seeing her bruised and swollen knuckles.

‘Ona did you hit her?’

‘She hurt you!’ Ona lets out a frustrated sigh, running her hands through her ponytail.

‘Come here.’

‘I don’t want to hurt you.’ She argues, sighing again when you pout.

She could never resist when you did and just like you knew she would, she relents, going over to the small bed and sitting beside you.

‘You need to calm down because I’m fine.’ You begin saying only to be met with a glare.

‘Okay not fine but I will be. I’ll probably be out for a few months but it’s not like you won’t be there to help me every step of the way right?’

‘I will be there. You know that. Te amo.’

Then in a whisper so soft you almost miss it, she murmurs, ‘It’s my fault you’re hurt anyway.’

‘It’s not. It’s the game Ona. It could happen to anyone?’

With a confused expression, you gesture for her to explain and she hesitantly does.

‘The bad feeling wasn’t for me. It was for you. I knew you were going to get hurt and I didn’t stop it.’

‘Ona…’

She sniffles and you reach for her uninjured hand.

‘Listen to me love. You couldn’t have known. It’s not your fault you understand?’

‘But-’

‘No buts-’ You firmly say and she nods, seeing in your eyes that you meant it. The guilt that has weighed her down ever since she heard your pained scream eases off somewhat and she finds herself with a small smile on her face as you poke her side.

‘What?’

‘I know I got hurt and all but you didn’t have to punch her.’

‘I’m Spanish. I’m allowed to be hot headed.’

‘I don’t think that’s how it’s supposed to work love.’

She laughs and you grin.

‘I bet you looked really hot though.’

Ona winks at you before carefully curling up beside your body and kissing you delicately.

Spanish Translations:

bebé - baby

mierda - shit

te amo - i love you