#hey a post where I talk about all three seasons

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

for whom good omens is being written

Hey maggots and the rest of the fandom, it's the Good Omens Mascot here. Today I read a post about this tweet:

The accompanying video genuinely made me cry. And I've been thinking about this for a long while, as far back as February, when I saw a lot of conflicting opinions on what people wanted from the third season. It really is true that no matter what you do, some people will be dissatisfied. But what matters is that Neil is writing this for Terry.

And I was reminded of some paragraphs from the Good Omens TV Companion, which I'd read in Amazon's sample excerpt of the book. I know this is a long post, but I really truly do think you all need to read these, I've done my best to select only the most important parts. Here you go:

'His Alzheimer's started progressing harder and faster than either of us had expected,' says Neil, referring to a period in which Terry recognized that despite everything he could no longer write. 'We had been friends for over thirty years, and during that time he had never asked me for anything. Then, out of the blue, I received an email from him with a special request. It read: “Listen, I know how busy you are. I know you don't have time to do this, but I want you to write the script for Good Omens. You are the only human being on this planet who has the passion, love and understanding for the old girl that I do. You have to do this for me so that I can see it." And I thought, “OK, if you put it like that then I'll do it."

'I had adapted my own work in the past, writing scripts for Death: The High Cost of Living and Sandman, but not a lot else was seen. I'd also written two episodes of Doctor Who, and so I felt like I knew what I was doing. Usually, having written something once I'd rather start something new, but having a very sick co-author saying I had to do this?' Neil spreads his hands as if the answer is clear to see. 'I had to step up to the plate.' A pause, then: 'All this took place in autumn 2014, around the time that the BBC radio adaptation of Good Omens was happening,' he continues, referring to the production scripted and co-directed by Dirk Maggs and starring Peter Serafinowicz and Mark Heap. ‘Terry had talked me into writing the TV adaptation, and I thought OK, I have a few years. Only I didn't have a few years,' he says. 'Terry was unconscious by December and dead by March.'

He pauses again. 'His passing took all of us by surprise,' Neil remembers. 'About a week later, I started writing, and it was very sad. The moments Terry felt closest to me were the moments I would get stuck during the writing process. In the old days, when we wrote the novel, I would send him what I'd done or phone him up. And he would say, "Aahh, the problem, Grasshopper, is in the way you phrase the question," and I would reply, "Just tell me what to do!" which somehow always started a conversation. 'In writing the script, there were times I'd really want to talk to Terry, and also places where I'd figure something out and do something really clever, and I would want to share it with him. So, instead, I would text Terry's former personal assistant, Rob Wilkins, now his representative on Earth. It was the nearest thing I had.'

(...) As Neil himself recognizes, this is an adaptation built upon the confidence that comes from three decades of writing for page and screen. But for all the wisdom of experience, he found that above all one factor guided him throughout the process. 'Terry isn't here, which leaves me as the guardian of the soul of the story,' he explains. 'It's funny because sometimes I found myself defending Terry's bits harder or more passionately than I would defend my own bits. Take Agnes Nutter,' he says, referring to what has become a key scene in the adaptation in which the seventeenth-century author of the book of prophecies foretelling the coming of the Antichrist is burned at the stake. ‘It was a huge, complicated and incredibly expensive shoot, with bonfires built and primed to explode as well as huge crowds in costume. It had to feel just like an English village in the 1640s, and of course everyone asked if there was a cheap way of doing it. 'One suggestion was that we could tell the story using old-fashioned woodcuts and have the narrator take us through what happened, but I just thought, “No”. Because I had brought aspects of the story like Crowley and the baby swap along to the mix, and Terry created Agnes Nutter. So, if I had cut out Agnes then I wouldn't be doing right by the person who gave me this job. Terry would've rolled over in his grave.'

And, finally, this paragraph:

"Once again, Neil cites the absence of his co-writer as his drive to ensure that Good Omens translated to the screen and remained true to the original vision. 'Terry's last request to me was to make this something he would be proud of. And so that has been my job.'"

I think that's so heartwrenchingly beautiful, and so I wanted you all to read this, too, just in case you (like me) don't have the Good Omens TV Companion. It adds another layer of depth and emotion to this already complex and amazing story that we all know and love.

Share this post, if you can, please, so that more people can read these excerpts :")

Tagging @neil-gaiman, @fuckyeahgoodomens and @orpiknight, even if you've definitely read these before :)

[nats--sw]

Gold chain (pt2) | Leah Williamson

Leah, among other things, can be a bit of a distraction for your game… but just a bit. warnings: none, just fluff and slow burn note: a short one for today,, thanks for all the love in the pt1 :( pt1 - pt3 my masterlist

It had been three days since Leah had received the Instagram notification. Every morning, she took a moment to think about whether it was a good idea to text you or not. So far, you had liked her latest post, and Leah was hoping to return the gesture, but unfortunately for her you hadn't posted anything new since your picture holding the Roland Garros trophy. Not even a story she could react to. Nothing. 

“So... how's it going?” her mother asked that afternoon. Leah had gone to visit her, finding herself with more free time now that the season had ended, not much to do aside from the occasional interview and events, nothing too physically demanding for her.

“Well, I have an interview with the BBC in a couple of days, so that's keeping me busy” Leah said, pacing around the dining room, her eyes wandering over the photographs on one of her mother’s many shelves.

“I'm not talking about work. I'm talking about your girl!” Amanda shouted from the kitchen.

"Stop calling her that. I still can't believe you embarrassed me in front of her” Leah retorted. Just then, something over the fireplace caught her attention. 

Right in the center, where her picture holding up the Euro usually was, now stood a small transparent box. Inside was your autographed tennis ball. Leah picked up the box and couldn't help but smile at the sight of your signature, along with a smiley face.

“Hey, leave that there” her mother scolded as she entered the dining room with the two plates of food for dinner. 

“This should be mine, I'm her fan,” Leah said, fiddling with the box in her hand.

“Did you help Y/N win her trophy?” her mother retorted.

“Well, I got you there in the first place” Leah defended herself, placing the box back in its spot.

"Too bad that gift was given to me. If you want a ball, ask her for it." Amanda teased.

“You're my mother. You should be nicer to me.” Leah countered, taking a seat. 

"Yes, I am your mother, but I didn't raise a coward," Amanda said with a teasing smile. “Now eat”

Leah bit her lip nervously as she stared at her phone screen. The chat with you was open, and a picture of the autographed ball at her mother’s house was ready to be sent.

God, why was she so nervous? She had captained the England women's team to their first major title in history, yet now she was afraid to send a simple message.

“Screw it,” she muttered, hitting send.

“My mom won't let me touch the ball you gave her.”

Leah panicked as soon as the text was sent and quickly locked her phone. She glanced at her watch, it was past eleven o’clock at night, and she didn’t even know where in the world you were right now. The best thing to do was to go to bed and try not to think about the message. Maybe, if she was lucky, you would read it and respond in the morning. 

Within half an hour Leah was in bed, with her ipad in her lap, checking emails. Suddenly, her phone vibrated.

She had tossed it onto the bed ten minutes ago, and now it was lost somewhere among the sheets and the pile of pillows she had. She rummaged around looking for the phone, but couldn't find it, that was until her foot got tangled in the sheets, causing her to tumble to the floor. That's when she saw her phone, on the edge of the bed, covered by a pillow.

Without bothering to get up from the floor, she grabbed the phone and smiled when she saw the notification: a message from you.

“Aww, I seriously thought she would give it to you.”

Would it be too intense if she responded immediately? 

Leah decided to go for it. “My mother is not that kind of mother,” she typed and sent the message, then relaxed as she saw you had immediately read it. The bubble with three dots appeared instantly, confirming you wanted to keep the conversation going.

"Ah, my mother is similar. I understand," you replied.

Leah was taken by surprise when the next message popped up.

“What are you doing at this hour?”

She realized she was still sprawled on the floor of her room. She got up, climbed back into bed, and opened the first streaming app she saw on her ipad, choosing an old movie she had been trying to watch for days. She took a picture, making sure to show only the ipad and part of the bed, then sent it to you.

“Watching something.”

Leah shook her head,feeling like a teenager sending things like that. It reminded her of what she used to do years ago. But she wanted to sound interesting to you. What would you think of her if you knew she was actually just checking emails and watching old football matches, trying to figure out if she could play like she used to?

"What about you? I don't even know what time zone you're in."

“I’m in Italy, just an hour difference :)”

“Italy?”

"Resting. Back to my workouts tomorrow."

"Oh, right. What’s next for you now? Berlin?"

This time Leah was surprised to see that your response was not a text, but a voice message. She hesitated before playing it, then hit the button and heard your voice.

“Wow look at you, you really are a fan,” you said in a teasing tone. Leah blushed immediately. She couldn't send you a voice message because she was sure she would get too nervous. Leah Williamson, the same woman who had spoken at the UN months ago, now felt like a schoolgirl with a crush.

She took a deep breath and replied:

“Of course I am. I’ve watched almost all your matches since Wimbledon last year. I told you I was your fan when I met you. My mother made sure to emphasize that too.”

“I just thought it was to flatter me if I'm being honest... Not that I'm that self-centered, but it wouldn't be the first time it's happened.”

Leah could tell you were walking during the last voice message; there was background noise. You obviously weren't in a room.

“Where are you at this hour?”

The next thing Leah received was a photo of a couple of tennis courts. From the angle and the small table with a glass of water, she deduced that you were sitting a few feet away from the courts.

“I thought you were training from tomorrow?”

"On grass. The grass court season starts soon. Now I was just playing with my racket.” You explained in the message. Leah didn't have a chance to respond before receiving another voice message from you. "But it's getting late now, and I need to rest up for tomorrow's training session. Say hi to your mom for me please." 

"Of course, have a good rest," Leah replied, understanding the importance of proper rest for training sessions, especially during the season.

Days had flown by since that chat, and Leah was getting antsy. She was really hoping you'd reach out first this time, just to ease her mind that she wasn't bothering you. But as she sat at Alex's place,  enjoying a glass of wine over dinner before going out, she couldn't help but feel a bit silly constantly checking her phone for a message that never came.

As far as Leah knew you had already arrived in Berlin for the upcoming Open, not because you told her, but because she'd seen some snapshots of you during training sessions thanks to some tennis websites she followed.

Leah didn't know it, but your mind was fully consumed by the upcoming tournament with Wimbledon just around the corner. It was the topic of discussion throughout your entire day: grass, Berlin, Wimbledon, Leah no, wait, focus on that WTA ranking.

"Ready?" Lucas, your coach, asked, checking his watch. It was the last day before the tournament started.

"Huh?" You looked up, putting your phone down.

Lucas gave you a concerned look. "You okay? You've seemed kinda spaced out for a few days now."

You shook your head, trying to brush it off. "Yeah, yeah, I'm good."

"Is something up? You look kinda off," Lucas took a seat next to you, his concern evident in his expression. “You're not hiding some injury from me?"

"It's nothing. I'm fine, just tired” you lied, standing up and glancing at your phone once more. Lucas caught your glance.

"Don't tell me there's a girl," he said, rubbing his temples.

"What?! No! Of course not!"

"God, I knew it. It's that Italian girl, isn't it? I saw you chatting with her at the hotel."

"That was a waitress, Lucas. I'm serious, there's no one," you said, grabbing your bag from the floor. "I've got my priorities straight."

"Good. What you have to worry about now is Berlin. Remember, Wimbledon's around the corner" said Lucas, standing up and grabbing his bag. "If you want, after that tournament, you can sleep with whoever you want, Italian or not. But for now, you must keep your eyes on the grass. Okay?"

"Okay"

The next morning, as you sat down for breakfast, Leah's face caught your eye while scrolling through your Instagram feed. She had posted some photos, seemingly from a night out. 

It struck you how you hadn't come across Leah until the Roland Garros final; she seemed like an incredible person. You had even done a quick Google search when you first started following her on Instagram, impressed by her contributions to her sport back home.

It wasn't your fault that your family never showed much interest in football, so it wasn't surprising that you couldn't recognize any of the people beside Leah in those pictures. In the final photo, Leah was wearing a top that exposed her abdomen, wow, with a hand from someone you didn't recognize resting on her waist.

“Hmm?” You quickly tapped on the tag on the other woman's body. Her Instagram profile revealed that she was a football player too. Leah was in many of her photos, often seen next to her or hugging her. 

“Hey, Y/N” Lucas intervened, taking the phone from your hand and turning off the screen. “I've been trying to get your attention for minutes, your match starts in an hour.”

You nodded your head. Lucas didn't seem to notice the tension in your jaw, you tended to be serious before matches, so it wasn't unusual.

As you warmed up on the court, your mind couldn't shake the thoughts about Leah.

"Who was that other woman?"

"It doesn't matter. Leah is just a fan, maybe a friend, not someone you're going to marry."

"Exactly. Whether she has a partner or not shouldn't affect anything."

"But I couldn't help but find her cute."

"She's undeniably beautiful."

"Focus on Wimbledon."

Despite the game starting, your mind continued its internal debate.

Your opponent secured the first game at 40-0. Now it was your turn to serve. Just as you tossed the ball into the air, a nagging thought intruded again.

“Does she have a girlfriend?”

The ball hit the net. An irritated sigh escaped your mouth, knowing you had to make this serve count, aiming to avoid a double fault.

Shaking off the distracting thought, you prepared for another attempt. Gazing ahead, you focused on your opponent's movements, determined to regain control of the match.

"Her mother played matchmaker when we met," you mumbled to yourself, the distraction causing you to miss the hit once more. This time, it sailed over the net but landed wide, giving your opponent an unexpected point.

Even your opponent seemed surprised by the unforced error you just made, giving her a point without any effort on her part.

"I need to find out who she is," you muttered under your breath, feeling the pressure with each lost point.

Your serve had enough power behind it this time, but your return lacked precision, sending the ball flying into the stands. As the ball sailed out, your opponent glanced at you in disbelief, clearly surprised by the unforced error you had just made.

"Wälti, that was her name," you murmured to yourself, the name lingering in your mind like a persistent echo. 

With the score now at 40-15, your opponent was on the verge of breaking your serve.

You needed to get rid of the doubt, but you couldn't leave the game, you weren't that crazy. But you could do something else, win the game in record time. Focus on winning to satisfy your curiosity and anxiety. You adjusted the gold chain that hung around your neck and took a deep breath. You had to hurry.

The match ended 0-2, with you taking the sets at 2-6 and 1-6. Your best result on grass.

"Where'd that come from?" Lucas asked once you were alone. "Since when is your backhand so killer on grass?" he wondered. "I've never seen you pull off moves like that on grass."

"Just got inspired," you said, tossing your visor aside and slumping into the chair. "Can I have my phone now?" Lucas hadn't given it back to you yet, not as a punishment, but because you'd asked him to keep it. 

Lucas handed it over, eyeing you. "You're keeping something from me," he noted, scratching his beard. "But if it's what's making you play like a champ, I'm all for it," he said, grinning.

You brushed off your coach's voice, fingers darting to your Instagram. With a few taps, you found Leah's chat, eager to shoot her a message.

"Heyyy! How was your night?" you typed, your leg bouncing with impatience. Though you needed to hit the shower, the excitement of hearing from Leah consumed you.

"Hope you're not feeling too rough today; starting the week hungover would be nasty," you added, fingers hovering over the screen in anticipation. But as the moments passed, there was still no response from Leah, leaving you hanging in suspense.

A cold shower seemed like the perfect remedy to clear your mind, and thankfully, it did the trick. Lucas egging you on for extra drills, especially to fine-tune your backhand, also helped to distract you.

By dinner, any hope of hearing back from Leah had evaporated. You were so disinterested that you didn't even bother bringing your phone along. It wasn't until nearly ten, when you reached for your phone to set the alarm, that you noticed Leah's message—a voice message.

"Hey, fancy hearing from you!" Leah's voice chimed in, carrying that distinctive lilt that hinted at a potential afternoon spent dozing off. You could practically imagine her, wrapped up in blankets, nursing a post-party hangover. "Yeah, went out with some friends. We were celebrating the end of my mate's long-distance thing. Was fun, until they started getting all soppy, reminding me I'm the last single one in the group."

A groan slipped out before she continued, "I may have had a bit too much to drink," she confessed with a sheepish chuckle.

Those messages had been sent around 4 pm, while you were deep into your training session.

The rest of the voice messages were sent after 7 pm.

"What the heck was up with your game today?!" came the first, followed by a chuckle "Just watched the highlights of your match. Seriously, what did that poor player do to deserve such a thrashing from you? She ain't an ex, is she?"

Then, a last voice message added, "Sorry if that sounded a bit too nosy. Just curious, you know?"

You chuckled, enjoying the sound of Leah's accent. It had this magical way of making you grin like an idiot, even when you were just staring at your phone screen.

But now, what really mattered was Leah's relationship status, she was single, confirmed without even having to pry. Knowing she was single now seemed like a game-changer. Suddenly, that whole thing with Wälti didn't matter anymore, Leah's path was crystal clear. Not that you were planning to make any moves to win her over; that was definitely not on your agenda, at least not for now.

“Remember, Wimbledon”

Oh… the other thing that hit you: Leah truly proved herself to be your fan. It blew your mind that someone recovering from a hangover would bother to watch highlights of your match just to chat about it later. She was the first person to do that, apart from your coach or family.

"Hey, I'm free tomorrow, at least from the matches. What do you think if I call you tomorrow?" you typed, feeling a rush of anticipation mingled with nerves as you crawled into bed.

Before closing your eyes, you couldn't resist checking your phone one last time. And there it was, Leah's response: "Sure, call me anytime tomorrow. I'll be waiting for you."

With a grin stretching across your face, you drifted into the most peaceful sleep you've had in ages, feeling a sense of warmth and excitement settling deep within you.

[eternally-racing]

blind spot | lando norris (+ logan)

genre: angst (maybe fluff if you squint)

pairing: lando x reader and some logan x reader

wc: 1.7k

warnings: none

summary: at the end of season party, feelings and frustrations seem to spill over for Lando when he spots you with another driver.

----

It’s the post race party in Abu Dhabi and there’s a certain lightness filling the room. No matter whether this was a good season or a bad season for each driver, it was done and that alone was reason enough to celebrate. 

You’re used to spending the races you get to watch in McLaren hospitality thanks to your lifelong friendship with Lando. He says you’re his good luck charm, so even on weekends where you can’t make the travel work out you still find yourself up at ungodly hours in the morning to cheer him on. It’s been nice that being friends with Lando has allowed you to make friends with some of the other guys on the grid, like George and Alex, but you haven’t really put yourself out there at all. You’re here for your best friend, so you make good on your promises to stick next to him all throughout the race weekend. 

Today is an exception though, as Max has dragged Lando up to the DJ booth with him and there’s only so long you can spend right in front of the speakers before you get a headache. He hasn’t noticed your absence but that’s unsurprising to you - the club is the one place where you and Lando seem to really have your differences. He lives for the energy; the big crowds, the loud music, the people, while you’d rather get drunk on a bottle of wine at home while watching an old movie if you had the choice. For a minute, you consider leaving Lando behind to do exactly that, but you can see his smile even from across the room and you would hate to accidentally take that away from him. Instead, you figure if you’re going to be here longer, another drink from the bar wouldn’t hurt. You’re swirling your straw around in your drink while sitting at the bar, feeling the bass pound through your seat as you take in the sights of all the drivers and their friends roaming around. It’s nice to see them all that free, and you don’t notice a familiar duo on the grid creep up on you until you feel a tap on your shoulder. 

“Oh hey Y/N, I wanted to introduce you to Logan, my teammate,” is what Alex says casually to you over the music roaring through the club.  There’s suddenly a dirty-blonde haired boy in front of you with a charming smile, and something about him makes your heart race. He reaches his hand out to greet you and you can feel your cheeks warm up, and you don’t think it’s from the vodka cran that you’re holding onto. 

You and Logan get along like two drops of water as you find yourself settling into a booth with just him for the night. You talk about your families, your favorite tv shows, your deepest hopes and regrets. It’s been a while since you’ve ever connected with someone like this. It’s like when he looks at you he really sees you, which is something you’ve always wished for from someone else. The two of you are in your own world as you’re chatting away, so much to the point that you don’t notice a familiar curly haired boy approach your booth. 

“Time to go Y/N, you’re drunk.” 

Lando leans onto the table with both hands and you can see the way that he’s staring at you that he’s dead serious, the only thing is you’re not sure why.  You offer him a smile as you reply back to him.

“I’m fine with Logan, thank you though.” 

There’s a painfully awkward silence falling over you three. Lando doesn’t accept no for an answer, and he’s already reaching for your wrist to pull you up to him. It starts to frustrate you because you’re nowhere near drunk and Lando knows that too. Drunk Y/N would be dancing up on a table pounding back shots of tequila, definitely not sitting here chatting with a really nice guy. You stop Lando by placing a hand over his and he looks up in shock at your actions. 

“She said she’s good, mate.” Logan interjects firmly from the other side of you, and even you tense up knowing that Lando is not going to like that tone. 

Lando doesn’t even look Logan in the eye and is staring directly at you. You mouth “what are you doing” to him while he keeps staring you down like you’ve committed a crime. 

“You don’t wanna start this Sargeant, I promise you that.” Lando curses, his eyes still never leaving yours.

Lando’s statement has you clenching your jaw and your mind is spinning as you try to interpret it. In the short time you’ve spoken to Logan you’ve learned a lot about him - he was kind, thoughtful, and already felt like an outsider on the grid, so there was absolutely no reason for Lando to be acting like your bodyguard against him right now. 

The pacifist in you just wants this whole interaction to be over, so you go to pick up your purse and give Logan a look that says “sorry, I have no idea what he’s doing” before you stand up to join your best friend. Lando was someone you could never say no to, no matter how hard you tried. 

Logan offers the man a tight lipped smile before bringing his drink to his lips. Your heart hurts knowing that he already struggles with making friends on the grid and you’re sure that spending tonight with him hasn’t helped that at all. Lando’s going to hear it from you, for sure, you’re just hoping you can keep it in until you both get back to the hotel. 

Lando doesn’t spare another glance to you while you’re rummaging through the contents of your purse, and you keep your distance from him too. His jaw is still clenched like it would be after a bad race, only this time you don’t want to reach out to caress his cheek to help him. Lando fucked up tonight, and maybe you did too but the frustration of everything was becoming too much.

It’s when Lando turns back to get the last word in and says “stay away from my girl” do you finally lose it. 

You scoff “your girl?? I wasn’t your girl when you were doing body shots off that girl in the corner 20 minutes ago.” Suddenly you’re breathing heavily as you’re staring back at Lando with an equally angry look. This season has made you feel one thing - you may be Lando’s best friend but you’ll never be his girl, so hearing those words echoed back at you made you see red, knowing that Lando didn’t feel the same way. 

When your voices start to elevate further Logan quietly excuses himself from the situation when he realizes that it’s much bigger than just Lando being pissed at him for talking to you tonight, and neither of you even seem to notice as you’re too busy flinging words at each other. 

There’s a certain fire behind Lando’s eyes and an emotion you can’t quite place. You two have argued of course, but over stupid things like what type of takeout you were gonna get and who would have to take out the garbage. But you’ve never yelled at each other like this. 

“Why are you doing this, Lando?” your voice is laced with exasperation and you still can’t even look him in the eye. 

“It’s for your own good, you don’t get it” 

You mumble under your breath that you can see good or bad for yourself completely fine, something that has Lando rolling his eyes as he tightens his hold on your wrist.

“I”m not the one who doesn’t get it. You think you know everything. But news flash Norris, you don’t” 

You only use Lando’s last name when you’re in a bad mood, and it’s an immediate indicator for the curly haired man that you’re picking a fight. It’s a miracle nobody has noticed the two of you arguing as he’s basically dragging you through the crowds of people on the dance floor like you’re a little kid being put in timeout. Maybe you could never hate Lando, but man do you really dislike him at this moment. 

“I can name anything about you Y/N - favorite color, favorite food, favorite movie, try me.” 

You can tell he’s dead serious as he stops in his tracks and turns back to face you. He’s not moving until you answer his challenge, so you give in to his request begrudgingly with some rapid fire questions. You have to admit that he answers your questions almost expertly - nailing all of them. There’s one question he’s bound to get wrong, and  somehow the words that have been stuck on your tongue for so long finally slip out and hit the curly haired boy in front of you.

“What about the fact that the ENTIRE grid can tell that I’m in love with you and the only person who doesn’t get it is you -  did you know that, Lando?” 

The look on Lando’s face as you say it tells you everything you need to know. Of course he had no idea, he never looked as closely at you as you did to him. He’s stuttering and mumbling his words and you don’t have the patience to listen to him be flustered over this. Or maybe it’s that you don’t want to hear him reject you for real. 

“You don’t need to say anything.” You say firmly “you’ve made it abundantly clear over the last year about how you feel.” Around you the crowd doesn’t seem to pay any attention to your spat and that’s the most reprieve you’ll be able to get out of this situation. 

“I’m leaving, Lando.” you sigh and your voice cracks slightly  “and don’t you dare think of following me” 

It all seems to happen so fast. It’s a long, sad, empty Uber ride back to the hotel as you try to hold in your tears in the backseat. You know you told him no, but a part of you wishes that Lando would’ve fought for you, that he would’ve followed you out into the rain and you both could’ve made up right then and there. But life isn’t a movie, and 

that’s become evidently clear on this drive. 

It’s only once you’re cocooned under your blankets that you have the courage to finally check your phone. There’s only 1 message on your home screen…

And you hate yourself for it, but it’s not from the boy you wanted it to be.

---

author's note: honestly im not 100% happy with this piece and i don't can't exactly pinpoint why, but i wanted to share it with you all anyways in hopes that someone enjoys it! i'll keep working on making even better fics in the future :) Until next time! - Em <3

[undercovercameron]

hole in one

summary: you're a server at the island club, and you may or may not have a favorite customer.

notes: i'm back baby! haven't written anything in a good while but i suddenly had this image of a girly reader and a flirty golfer rafe with that season 3 buzzcut... i HAD to make a pun with this title and i'm so glad i did. also i always write rafe a little more attentive and well-meaning than he is, so take this headcanon of nice rafe with a grain of salt-- and this shit is hella dirty so please enjoy and let me know what you think ;) (also im coming back to edit this fully in a little bit but i wanted to post just to prove i still love and use this account kajddjd)

tags: rafe cameron x fem!reader

word count: 4453

Some things in Rafe’s life were simple pleasures. 

A cocktail during dinner, a night where all the TV he watched was reality shows, a cigarette on a night out. The silence of his childhood home. 

Golf, coincidentally, was also one of those things. The course he frequented was just a ten-minute drive from his house, and he had priority parking. As a donor and a club-member of course. The drinks were cheap, the company was even cheaper, and he had a killer swing. There was rarely an afternoon out on that green that he didn’t enjoy. He felt closest to peace when all he had to work for was getting that tiny white golf ball sunk into a hole. 

They were often sweaty putting sessions, as the North Carolina heat in the summer was no joke, but the traveling drink cart was a brief respite from that. 

“What can I get you?” You ask, bright and long-lashed. Your hair was done in a tight updo, your makeup was flawless, and not a single spec of dirt or turf lay on your uniform. You took pride in your appearance and the effects it had on the loose wallets of the Outer Banks’ finest real estate investors and offshore bank account holders. Most of all, you enjoyed a certain someone’s attention. 

Rafe peeks under the overhang of the cart and stares at your selection. He stands with his hands on his hips, gold rings flashing in the hot sunlight. You take a look at him for the first time today, eyes taking over his bent form. He has gray slacks on with a dark blue polo stretched over his well-built back, unbuttoned to show the tiniest glint of blonde chest hair and his gold chain. He spared no expense when it came to his appearance, you’d come to notice. 

“I think,” he starts, standing back up, and fixes you with his blue-eyed stare. It makes you hold back a shiver despite the heat. “A double tequila soda.” 

He gives you a once-over, admiring the way your skirt hugs your waist and the sparkle of your earrings. He always likes when the girls have their hair up— gives him a sneak peek of what it’d look like if he pulled it. 

“Three limes? Just how you like?” You ask, breaking his focus, and reach for a plastic cocktail cup. You have a freckle behind your ear, he notices. 

“Exactly right,” he says, folding his arms over his chest, and his face splits into a grin when you glance at him and blush. He could be back with his friends from highschool, talking shit about their shitty swings or increasingly high scores, but he’s not. He’s right here, watching closely as you carefully measure the ice and pour a perfect double shot. 

“How’re you guys playing today?” You ask, a humiliating attempt at small talk, and you feel sweat bead on your lower back. 

“Shit, honestly,” Rafe laughs. “These jack-offs couldn’t get a hole-in-one if it was right in front of their fucking faces. And I’ve been distracted all day.” He looks down at you over the bridge of his nose, liking the way you tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. 

“Heat getting to you?” You squeeze the final lime and turn away from the cart, holding it out with a polite smile. He takes it carefully. 

“Something like that,” he says, cocking his head, and takes a sip. Tart. Just how he likes it. “Hey.” He digs a hand into his pocket and the tips of your cheekbones heat again for some reason. “Keep the change.” He hands you a fifty. 

You take it between hesitant fingers, peering up at him. 

“The drink is $6, Rafe.” 

He always does this. Pays cash with big bills and tells you to keep the change. He gave you a twenty for a packet of peanuts one time. “I don’t know if I can legally take this.”

He just shrugs. 

“Consider it a personal donation.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.” 

“Makes me feel better. I think you deserve a little extra for your services—it takes a lot of work to look that good for a bunch of old geezers in sweater vests and loafers. I know I appreciate it.” He turns and starts off towards his group, yanking his sunglasses out of his shirt and jamming them onto his face. “I like your bra, by the way. ‘S my favorite color.”

You glance down the collar of your shirt, heart thumping, and look back up. 

That stupid fucking swagger he has. He’s going to throw out his back walking around like a peacock like that. 

You tug your shirt up, hiding the red bra you’d chosen for today, and hop back on the cart. Off to another hole where another old man will look down your shirt and ask for his Manhattan with two cherries instead of one. 

You think you’ll either quit this job or start wearing a fucking monk robe. 

The next time you see him is back at the club. Your boss had you on pool bartender duty, opposed to the drink cart you favored, and you were a little out of your element. 

The customer demographic was different, which you enjoyed, but they all seemed to want a lot more and a lot quicker. There was no loitering around to small talk; you had to work quickly and attentively to earn these housewives’ measly two dollar tip on margarita pitchers. 

You had spilled raspberry purée on your company-approved golf dress more times than you could count in your six hour shift. Near the end of it, however, Rafe had made his way to the end of the bar and watched as you ducked to put away the umbrella toothpicks and quickly and secretly downed a shot of Tito’s. Drinking on the job. Hm. 

(It’s not that you like to be drunk at work; it’s more of a little ‘fuck you’ to your boss, you think.)

“Hi,” you say on an exhale, coming over and wiping the already-spotless counter with a black rag. “What can I get you?” You have dangly earrings on today, and a different shade of lipgloss than he is accustomed to.

“Two grapefruit High Noon’s.” He folds his arms and leans on the counter, so close he could smell your perfume. “I could report you for that, you know,” he says, voice as low as a whisper. You peer up at him, lips pursed, and scan his face. No ill intent. Just an easy smile and dirty eyes. 

“Oh, yeah?” You reach for the fridge underneath the mixing mats and pull two cold cans from the shelf. You sit them on the counter and stare up at him. “You’re a real upstanding customer, huh?”

“Mhm.” He twists his pointer-finger ring mindlessly. “You owe me.” The corners of his lips quirk up. 

“Oh, do I?” You ask, giving him your best ’I don’t know what you’re talking about’ look. You know he likes that. 

The fact is that you and Rafe had countless conversations exactly like this one. Whether it be at the drink cart, on the way out of the building, or back inside in the restaurant bar. He always somehow leaned over you, smiling like the flirtatious bastard that he was, and making you feel like he’d like nothing more than to take you to his car and show you how much he actually enjoyed being served by you. That’s how you imagined him in bed, at least. Proving a point. 

He takes the two cans in one hand and straightens up, fixing you with a dangerous look. 

“Your shift ends in ten minutes, yeah?” He asks. 

“Yes.” You square your shoulders and stare back. 

“Good. I’ll take you home. Well, mine.” He backs up closer to where his friends are sitting at a covered patio table, mischievous smile flashing white in the sun. 

“I have a car, you know,” you say, leaning on the counter with folded arms. You ignore the hot rush of blood in your veins from his words. “And I have to shower.”

“What makes you think I don’t have a shower?” He purses his lips, faking the wildly confused look, and turns back around to his friends. 

You just sigh, exasperated with him, and work on cleaning up your station. God, it has to be him? The boy you had a crush on in elementary school? You’ve had plenty of hookups in your adult life, but none as close to home as this one. (Literally. You live down the street.) You feel his eyes on you as you scrub a particularly defiant streak of Grenadine from the counter, and feel his gaze on your back when you turn around to get a fresh rag. It makes your face burn hot. 

You know he’s not talking about just hanging out at his place. He probably has a huge shower, for God’s sake, and probably a humongous bed. California king if you can guess. 

You bet he tastes like summer.

After your replacement comes to the bar, you take your lanyard to get into the staff locker room from a hook under the bar and make your way slowly through the gaggles of people to your designated locker. It takes a brief conversation with your boss Angela about if you left the tip jar or took the contents to finally shoulder past the last group of people. 

You tug your bag from the hook, a change of clothes and your shower stuff already packed (as you had been planning to go to the gym after work). You now know you have other forms of exercise coordinated. You give yourself a final look in the little mirror on your locker. Here goes nothing. 

Rafe is waiting outside the swinging door when you push past it, button up shirt and shoes haphazardly thrown on. He immediately takes your bag from you and slings it over one massive shoulder, starting for the exit. 

“I can carry my own things, Rafe,” you say, slightly out of breath with the effort it takes to catch up to him. 

“Yeah, well, I’m in a bit of a hurry.” He casts a look over his shoulder, eyebrows raised seriously. You roll your eyes. 

His bedroom door pushes open and you stumble back, hand tight on his bicep as he walks you further. His hand circles your waist as he ducks to kiss you again, mouth hot and commanding over yours. 

He tastes exactly how you imagined. 

His room is bright with sunlight and slightly messy when you glance behind him, but you’re pretty fucking sure you won’t be focused on how his room is decorated when he keeps grabbing at you like this.

The back of your knees hit the bedspread and you fall into a sitting position, posture curved up into his as he leans and holds you by the side of the neck. You make a pleased noise into his mouth and tug at his shirt, suddenly irritated that he is wearing so many clothes. You snake a hand up his shirt and claw at his skin with your sharp nails. 

“Save that for my back,” he breathes, and your fingers fumble to unbutton his shirt as you finally pull it down and off his body. You rejoice at his newfound lack of clothing and smooth a hand over his chest, eyes trained on his toned and tan stomach. 

He’s huge like this, up close, and the warmth radiating from his skin makes your heart jump into your throat. Your fingers splay across the middle of his abdomen, just appreciating the way he breathes under your touch, and you lean back up for his mouth. 

He threads his fingers in your hair and pulls your face so hard to his own that your neck smarts. Between your legs throbs. You protest, grabbing at his wrist, but settle when he shuffles closer to the bed and tilts you back into the sheets.

“Spread your legs for me,” he murmurs. Your back meets silk, and he lifts your open legs up and around his hips as he settles between your thighs comfortably. Right where he should be. 

The feeling of his heavy weight where you’ve been needing it makes your back arch. He breaks away from you and slides a hand down your chest, laying the route that his mouth will take. 

“You smell like cherries,” he says as he presses his mouth to your collarbone and sucks. 

“I know.” You shudder through a laugh and bring your hand up to the back of his head as encouragement. “Spilled Grenadine.”

He hums noncommittally and shoves the hem of your dress up past your hips and to your midriff in one fluid motion. You wriggle for a second, so exposed so fast, but sigh contentedly when his lips meet your stomach. His mouth is so unexplainably hot, and as his tongue meets you your whole body erupts in goosebumps. It sends a shiver down your spine. It’s even better than you imagined. 

“Knew you’d taste so good,” Rafe practically moans, eyes darting to yours, and his fingertips curl around the waistband of your underwear as you watch. Your cheeks flush at his word. You’re honored to be the recipient of words like his— it’s not often Rafe finds himself giving someone a compliment. He lays a final kiss on your stomach and surges back up towards your chest. He mutters gibberish to himself, probably something like “I hate this fucking dress” and yanks your dress up past your tits. 

His fingers find your left nipple and squeeze as his tongue finds the other. You arch again, unused to the sensation, and let loose a groan. His fingers are so soft and light, but his teeth nip. 

You make a noise of surprise, eyebrows furrowing, and tug at the short, blunt locks of his hair. 

“Impatient,” he reprimands, tongue rolling as he glances up at your pink face. You’re strung so tight you might snap. “Needy.” He releases your nipple with a pop. Your lips are so pink and shiny, he just has to kiss you again. You whine into his mouth when he comes back, fingernails scratching at his scalp, and your legs wind around his waist. 

But he lets go of your hip with his left hand and creeps closer to the crotch of your underwear, fingertips dancing. Your grip on his hair tightens. Between your legs pulses with heat and need, hot on his clothed crotch, and he knows he could calculate your BPM just by laying with you like this. 

“Rafe,” you breathe, staring up at him as your chest heaves. 

“Relax,” he shushes, ducking down to press a kiss to your neck, and you gradually relax the muscles that lock your legs to his abdomen. “There you go.” You think you hear a “good girl” fall from his soft lips but it’s in that moment that he pushes past the cotton and digs his hand into your underwear. 

You immediately spur into motion, back arching and mouth dropping into an ‘O’, and he just bites his lip and watches. You’re so responsive, and it makes his dick fucking ache. 

“Thought about this? Hm?” He pants, releasing his bottom lip from between his teeth, and grins. “So wet, this pussy’s been begging for me for weeks.”

You struggle to nod, movement interrupted by the slew of noises and ramblings of “please” and “yes” and “Rafe” falling from your lips. His middle and ring fingers push past the slick resistance your pussy gives him, and you go silent and slack-jawed as he pushes all the way to the hilt.  

And he’s got big fingers. You wonder if they’re the same size as his dick. If so, you might be in trouble.

“Fuck, Rafe,” you nearly cry, head falling back into the sheets, and you’re slammed back into reality and consciousness of your surroundings. The coolness of the AC makes your nipples peak again, and the sweat on your lower back cools almost as soon as it’s created. But Rafe makes you hot. Your chest and cheeks are flushed a bright pink, and your lips are swollen into a bigger size and slick with his saliva and your own. We don’t even have to discuss how flushed the other parts of your body are—he already knows. 

His fingers curl slightly up and to the right, and your abdomen jerks at the unfamiliar feeling. You curl up slightly, eyebrows furrowed, and try to catch a glimpse of his large hand in your underwear. God, you wish you could take a picture. You lock gazes with him momentarily but fall back down at the look in his face. It’s nearly animalistic. 

“Rafe, please,” you beg, grabbing onto his wrist with both hands. You meet his eyes. “I want you to fuck me. Please.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, pulling his fingers out, and clambers off of you for a second. You sit up, quickly ridding yourself of the dress bunched up to your shoulders, and watch as he rips his shorts off and nears the bed. You don’t even have enough time to gape at the size of him before he’s grabbing your bicep and jerking you onto your stomach. 

You have half a mind to protest his man-handling of you but stay silent as you look up at the angle he positions you. 

There’s a full length mirror opposite this side of his bed, and you just stare at the pair of you as you catch your breath. 

“Like it, huh?” He asks quietly, dipping down and pressing a kiss to your hair. His hand finds your neck and he moves you to face the mirror head on, watching your face closely. You really like the feeling of his fingers around your throat. He can tell, now; your shoulders relax and your lips move into the shape of a smile when he squeezes. 

“You always keep this here?” You ask, head falling onto your folded arms when he releases you to just admire your body. His fingers trace your spine and the curve of your ass, never losing focus. 

“I moved it this morning,” he murmurs, gaze never straying from you. 

“Oh, so you knew you’d be fucking me tonight.” Your face splits into an easy grin, head tilting mischievously. His eyes find yours in the mirror, and he bends again to press his mouth to your lower back. 

“Always teasing me.” His voice is muffled by your smooth skin. He can’t get enough. “Knew it’d happen sometime soon. You can’t stay away forever, you know.” He straightens up but doesn’t find your eyes in the mirror. His large, warm hand maneuvers your hips into a tilted position, and you move up onto your feet. He has you flat on your stomach on the bed, but your ass and legs hang off and the soles of your feet just barely press flat into the floor. “Knew this pussy would get me at some point.” He smacks at an asscheek lightning fast; and your whole body jiggles with the force of his hand. You squeak involuntarily.

A large hand grabs at your shoulder as the other one jerks himself steadily. Once, twice, three times, and then he’s spreading you open and pushing into you. 

Your spine stretches and relaxes when he gets halfway in, and your thighs start to shake when you’re filled all the way to the hilt. 

“Shit, Rafe, you’re fucking big,” you complain, but the tail end of your protest bleeds into a desperate whine. Your fingers grip the sheets tightly, eyes squeezed shut, and your head falls onto your folded arms. “Please,” you say, reaching back to frantically find his hips. “Go slow.”

“Stretching you out, hm,” Rafe comments, breathing hard already, and relieves the pressure by sliding almost all the way out. His tip almost breaches the seam of your slit but he pushes back in, pulling your asscheek away with a thumb to watch. “Fucking sexy.”

You squeeze around him like a vice, but the intrusion is welcome. You will yourself to relax and accept his huge fucking dick, and the thought of yourself getting fucked by him sends a gush of slick between you two. 

“There you go,” Rafe sighs, and pulls out only to fuck back in to you quickly. You cry out, fingers squeezing extra tight on the sheets, but you will yourself to look up.

His chest is flushed in the mirror as his chain swings in the open air, and the pure concentration and pleasure on his face prompts a pleased noise from your throat. You tentatively jerk back into him and his head whips up in the mirror, blue eyes meeting your own. 

“Oh, yeah?” He mutters, teeth catching his lip, and his hips snap into yours. Your mouth drops open only momentarily before you close it and tilt your head to the size coyly, biting your own lip and pushing back into his hips. He watches you carefully in the mirror with squinted eyes, half-impressed and half-challenging. “You think you can take it?” His fingers squeeze at your shoulder tight. 

You just silently nod. Cocky. 

His emotionless gaze locks with yours and his blood pumps hot in his veins. He’s going to make you eat your words. 

His hips surge forward in a suddenly-steady rhythm, skin slapping skin ringing out in the room. You just stare at him, defiant, and push back with every thrust he gives.

Rafe grunts and lets go of your shoulder, replacing his touch with an arm slung around your neck and the other hand between your legs. His warm fingers nudge your clit, finding it immediately, and his hips snap punishingly quickly into yours. 

It’s brutal, having him like this. You hope you bruise. But you challenged him, and somebody has to lose. Except it’s not really a loss when Rafe fucking Cameron is genuinely fucking you into next week. 

“Shit,” you exhale, choking on the inhale that accompanies it, and you squeeze your eyes shut as his fingers rub you in circles. “Fuck, Rafe, that’s so good.” Something hot coils tight in your stomach and your thighs suddenly warm almost in preparation for the wave of sensation. 

“Yeah?” He pants, hot in your ear. “You like that?” His chest sticks to your sweaty back, gluing you together as his strong hips and legs pound you into the mattress. You stay strong, along for the ride, and provide all the verbal encouragement he needs. Your stomach feels hotter and hotter and your throat runs dry. 

“I love it,” you whine, head tilting up as if you’re praying he won’t stop. “Fuck me like this forever.”

“Mhm,” is all he says, too lost in the squeeze of your pussy around him and the warmth your body grants him. You pulse even more, so close. 

You gather some strength and struggle to push up into an elbow, head tilting further and further until you can feel his forehead brush the crown of your head. Your muscles strain. 

“Just like that. Just like—God, shit, right there.”

You squeak when the hot coil in your abdomen snaps and you fall twitchingly onto your stomach. His fingers rub quickly at your clit and you feel suddenly a hundred pounds lighter, eyes rolling back into your head. It’s so fucking good you wonder how you’ll ever masturbate happily again. Your fingers don’t compare in the slightest to this fucking dick. Your chest heaves with the effort it takes to fill your lungs with clean air, and your legs start to shake miserably underneath him. Your thighs feel like jelly and you barely did anything. 

“Please, Rafe,” you beg, turning your head to the side to look innocently up at him. “Give it to me.”

“Yeah?” He pants and leans down to kiss you messily. You groan into his mouth and push back once more into his hips. Your pussy is still buzzing with feeling, and it fades slowly into a pleasant ache the more he fucks into you. “You want it on your back or in your mouth?”

You blink wildly and push onto your palms, signaling that you want to turn over. He pulls out but jerks himself steadily until you scramble onto your knees in front of him, face level with his pelvis and tongue out. You look up at him with the most earnest and well-meaning eyes, and he just has to close his eyes when the tip of his dick finally meets your tongue and he fills your mouth. His chest loosens with the most pathetic noise he’s ever made, a mix between a raw groan and a whimper. Your soft mouth accepts him and cleans his dick, humming contentedly, and when he catches his breath and manages to open his eyes you’re staring up at him, an immensely pleased look on your face. 

You crawl closer and lift onto your knees, arms coming around his neck and pulling him to you. You press a kiss to his mouth. He can almost taste himself on your tongue, and he smoothes a hand down your side to grab onto your asscheek as you just kiss him. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, pulling away slightly to give your face a once-over. “You haven’t even showered yet.”

“And whose fault is that?” You sigh, exasperated. “Someone couldn’t make it up the stairs without shoving his hands up my dress—we barely even made it to the bed.” You smooth a hand down the back side of his head, liking the way his hair feels. 

Rafe just purses his lips. 

“Sounds like a really cool guy to me.”

“Mhm,” you say, rolling your eyes, and sit back on your heels. 

This room is a mess.

The corner of the well-made bed’s sheets and bedspread is yanked from the far corner and lies bunched up in the middle, dark with sweat. It smells like sex in here, the ceiling fan doing nothing to mitigate it, and your work dress is hung haphazardly on the closet door handle. With a dark Grenadine stain down the middle. 

“Don’t even think about it,” Rafe says, interrupting your inner monologue. His warm hand comes to rest on your thigh. 

“What?” You ask, eyebrows drawn. 

“Don’t even think about putting on clothes.”

You scoff.

“Like those would do me any good right now.” You wind your arms around his neck and smirk up at him. “I still haven’t even shown you what’s in my bag.”

His smile grows. 

“What’s in your bag, baby?”

[suckerforblondeathletes]

The Call Up - Leah Williamson HIWTHI

Steph Catley x Fem!Reader (Platonic)

Universe Masterlist! (Home Is Where The Heart Is)

Summary: You start to question your next season and what club you will continue your career at, your fellow Aussie teammates help you out. But the discussion isn't long when you get a call.

Warnings: None!

Authors Note: Hey guys! This is short but I haven't posted in a while so here you go!

Living in Australia was amazing. Being so close to home all the time was even better. You never left Australia, your home country, to play for another team.

Playing for Melbourne was life changing. It was like being playing on a team, but the entire team was your close friends and family. You never really thought about going anywhere else, when the time came for your contract to be up, another one was made and you stayed.

But lately you were getting a little bored at Melbourne, it was fun and all but it was just the same thing over and over again. You where thinking about a change of scenery, or a change of teams?

You started talking about it when you were on camp with the Matildas, in the hotel room with Steph, Kyra, harper, and Mini. You were laying on the bed on your side, watching Kyra and Steph make a stupid tiktok while mini was playing with Harper.

"Guys I think I want to leave Melbourne." You blurt out loudly, staring at the women in the room for a response.

They all turn towards you, both Steph and Kyra stopping their dance at the same time and turning their heads to you.

Mini and was also looking at you while harper was pulling at her hair.

"Why? Has something happened?" Mini asks with concern in her voice, both Steph and Kyra walk over to the bed you are siting on.

"No, I mean, I don't know. I just kinda want a change in my daily life." Mini nods at that, wincing as Harper pulled her hair a little too hard.

"Where do you want to go? You know Arsenal is a great club-" Kyra starts talking but is cut off my Mini.

"So is West Ham." She adds causing both Kyra, Steph, and Mini to start arguing about their clubs.

Rolling their eyes you speak up to end the fight.

"Arsenal sent me a email saying they want me, I just don't know if its the right choice." Steph and Kyra give each other high fives at the sound of arsenal, stopping mid way when you finish your sentence.

"I feel like you should take some time and think about it, its a big change and you should make the decision when you know that 100% what you want." Katrinas words make you start to think about it, maybe you didn't want to leave is what you told yourself. But you knew deep down you did want to leave, you just couldn't bring yourself to accept it.

Melbourne practically raised you. Spending your childhood on the youth team and young adult hood on the pro level.

Leaving would result in leaving that all behind, the friends and memories would stay on that field, but not you.

--

You were working out with the Matildas, in the training room with Caitlin and Steph at your sides as you three do weights.

Laughing and talking about the upcoming season made the questioning of a new club arise once more.

"Have you decided?' Steph asked as she put down a 20 pound dumbbell.

"No, well I have been thinking about arsenal, but I haven't got a call yet." You saw spark in both of their eyes at the mention of their club, and the thought of you going and joining them.

"You should soon, your a great player and they have asked for you before." Caitlin says as she goes to grab a weight.

You nod and go back to thinking about the call.

Yeah they called for you before, but will they want you again?

--

It was 10:24 am exactly when you got a call from an unknown number.

You were sitting in the lobby of the hotel eating breakfast with Kyra, Steph, Caitlin, and Alanna. Laughing at Steph and Kyra using funny snapchat filters of each other.

"Oh hang on guys someone is calling me." You don't look at them while you speak, staring at the phone wondering who this could be.

"Hello?" You answer the phone and a man responds back.

"Hey is this Y/n Y/L/N?" Your heart drops, what in the world is going on, how does this person know your name?

"Umm yes it is why, has something happened." Everyone at the table looked up at you with confusion on their face.

"Well we called from the Arsenal and we have looked at your stats and your season history at Melbourne and we would like for you to sign with us." You start smiling and look up at Kyra and Steph.

They continue to look at you in concern and you whisper, "Its arsenal" and they start yelling and cheering, causing weird looks from your teammates.

"Shhhhh" You hush them and go back to the phone. "Yes! Yes I would love to."

"Great news! We will meet you in a month when the new season starts up! Can't wait to have you!"

Likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[wawataka]

as much as i LOVE the ending to mob psycho 100 (truly a beautiful way to wrap everything up) the one thing that bothers me most is shou’s character development

I think it’s specifically because of his lack of screen time and ONE trying to keep the manga 100 chapters long but he really shot himself in the foot with that. Mostly everyone was written well but I feel like he ran out of time to write everything he really wanted (remember that off handed remark about an esper awakening from Claws horrifying chambers? never brought up again). I feel like for the most part, every other character has a satisfying ending. It aligns with their goals. Serizawa finally feels like he is contributing good to society. Teru understands he isn’t special but hey, nobody is. Reigen isn’t alone anymore. Ritsu and Mob have come to accept Mob for who he is and have started the process of moving on from their trauma. Shou has… well he beat his father. but that wasn’t really him. That was Mob. He spent his whole life coming up with ways to get Toichiro to see some sense and in the end, it had to be someone else. Not him. Not his son. Do you think he ever moved on from that? Do you think he knows he has to? He can technically live his life “normally” now but can he? We can’t even know how he’s dealing with everything because he doesn’t show up in season three at all until like episode 11 (NOT counting the maid cafe scene although it was undeniably really funny). and the thing he takes away from his experience fighting Mob?

BROTHER THEY MADE A WHOLE SHOW ABOUT WHY YOU SHOULDN’T DO THAT. YOU’RE IN THAT SHOW. It almost feels like he’s going backwards??? Like I understand where he’s coming from, and for my own peace of mind i’ve been trying to think he meant it for like violence. but i cannot stop thinking of a Shou that quit using his powers entirely. i literally stopped typing this post and stared at the ceiling rn because of it. like i’m not crazy right?? i can’t be the only one who feels like something is missing about his character??? that CAN’T be what he walks away with

Also this might be a “and the curtains were blue” moment but i also want to talk about this omake

Yeah sure it’s devastating but then I actually started thinking about it. The title is called “Suzuki Shou 13 Years old.” Which is interesting to me because Shou was 12 almost the whole story. His birthday is in december (RIP). He turned 13 like just a month before the confession arc took place. The only thing i don’t know is if he has this dream before or after. I really hope it’s before because if he had this dream post confession arc then ouch???? ?? because if it’s after then that means he clearly hasn’t moved on from everything?? he’s still being haunted by his origin?? and we’re never gonna see him ever move on?? ONE i’m going to kill you and then kill you again make a shou spin off NEOW

[fictionalmenxyn]

Hiii, i see you mostly do rafe cameron fics but i came across your account under the evan buckley tag and saw you post asking for request. So i tought i would ask if you could do a fic where reader works with buck and during a night out with team he asks the reader to kiss to get a girl of his back.

But yeah that's all thank you in advance if you decide to do it

Of course!!! Still waiting for season eight over in the Uk 😭 also I’m gonna use Taylor as the girl sorry! Personally I don’t think they should’ve got together. They should’ve stayed friends, but that’s my opinion 😭

߷𝐎𝐤 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤, 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫߷

Pairing: Buck x firefighter!reader

Warnings: jealousy (not Buck), language and making out

߷߷߷

After a good shift, with an appearance on the news. The 118 decided to celebrate the hard day and once again saving those who needed your help.

So here you all are, you, dressed in a black dress. Revealing the small delicate slime tattoo on your back. With black heels. Sleek and casual for a bar. Not over or under doing it. It was a nicer bar that you all usually go to. So you all dressed a little fancier, not by much.

You sat with the team, a beer bottle in hand. You were in a conversation with Hen when you both hear Buck next to you “arh shit… she’s here…” you turned to look at him “who?” He answered “Taylor… we broke up a month ago, and here she is… waltzing in here… what are the odds?”

Hen joke “for you? Low… very low..” you both chuckled. Buck nudged your shoulder playfully “hey don’t agree with her!” Causing you to laugh more. Which that’s exactly what he intended.

He sipped his drink, then glanced to you. “So? How about a game of pool? I see one of the tables free?” You looked over and smiled. That’s what you’d do in your spare time at the station. Playing pool. You nodded “oh it’s on, Buckaroo!”

You placed your beer bottle on the table before getting up and heading over to the table.

Buck started to set up the balls in the plastic triangle. As you grab the cue sticks. You held one out to him. Feeling eyes on you, not in a good way…

You noticed Taylor’s eyes glued to you. You talked to Buck “she always like this?” Buck raised an eyebrow “like what?” You replied “her eyes haven’t left me since we started to set up pool, Buck..” he chuckled “oh she thinks we both have it for each other. That’s why she’d never let me go over your place for movie night while we were dating…” you gasped “that’s why?!” You were pissed. Controlling what Buck does?? That’s not on. At. All.

You broke the triangle of balls, then stand off the to side to let Buck have his go. The two of you went back and forth, taking turns.

Taylor never shifted her gaze since you started playing. You huffed, Buck joked “not gettin’ bored already? Thought you liked playing this?” You replied “I do, but not when she doesn’t take her eyes off of me. It’s borderline creepy, Buck…”

He hummed in agreement, “I got an idea…”

“Oh yeah?” “Yeah…”

He gestured you to come closer, you and Buck were close. Really close, that’s probably why Taylor was jealous. But everyone on the team knew you two didn’t see each other that way… not yet at least.

He whispered in your ear, “lemme pretend to show you how to hit a shot, then I’ll peck your cheek, yeah?” His voice a little more rasped at the lowering of his voice.

You smirked “oh it’s on…” you walk around the table a few times. Trying to find the right ball to try and pot. Your acting skills, flawless. Buck spoke “hey, lemme show you a trick…” he came up behind you.

You both lean over to pool table. The team subtly watching. Eddie and Chimney lapping this up like two school girls. Hen and Bobby rolling their eyes, knowing this is how you two are.

Buck whispered “lemme count to three, then I’ll kiss your cheek, okay?” You nodded. Then looked to the pool table again.

“Three… two… one…”

He helped you hit the cue to the ball. Then once it potted. He smiled then kissed your cheek “good job, Y/n/n!” You smiled. Then look to Taylor. She looked jealous. But not enough for your liking. She treated Buck wrong. Let’s show her how to treat him right.

You closed the gap between you to. Kissing him softly. Two seconds it took for him to acknowledge what was going on. Then he kissed back. More fiery than the kiss you just gave. But you happily matched his intention.

He held your jaw gently. His big hand holding your jaw like you’d melt away if he didn’t hold it. In the background you can hear Eddie whistle and Chimney clapping. You peak out of your one eye to see Taylor.

It was like someone had shot someone in front of her. The shock and rage sent through her, definitely showing through her facial expressions. You smirked and mumbled into the kiss “it’s working..” Buck smirked too “good, let’s keep going though…”

In the end Taylor downed her drink, storming out of the bar. Once Bobby saw she left. He went to call out to you both.

You both kept kissing, that’s until you hear Bobby “alright you pair. step away or get a room!” You both laugh as you pull away.

Buck joked “think the room is sounding like a good idea right now…” you smirked “me too, Buck… me too…”

Eddie said a little too loud “I win! Hand over the money Chim!”

You both look over “what?!” Chimney casually spoke “oh we were betting on this, see how long it took for you too to finally do something…”

You playfully roll your eyes “thanks, Team..”

߷߷߷

[holdmytesseract]

If you are seeking soon to be dad Daryl, what about a fic where Y/n gets pregnant but she's scared to tell Daryl because what happened to Lori? Maybe she is finally able to tell him when they get reunited after the prison falls and by then she's already showing? Idk I know it says requests are closed but I saw your post!

Blessing in Disguise

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: After discovering that you are pregnant, you don't know what to do; being utterly afraid after what happened to Lori. You don't even have the chance to tell it your boyfriend, Daryl, because after the prison fell, you and Daryl get separated. Can you find him again and finally be brave enough to tell him?

Warnings: the usual TWD stuff, walkers, weapons, angst, mentions of birth and pregnancy, fluff!

Set in Season 4/5!

Word Count: 4,6k (Whopsies...)

a/n: I promised y'all a new Daryl fic and here it is! ☺️ Thank you for this wonderful request @starfirette ! ☺️ I loved, loved, loved to write this! 🥰 I hope you like it. ☺️ I changed the timeline a little bit - and I uh, may have ignored the existence of Mika and Lizzie, because I somehow struggled a lot to write them. I hope that's okay. 🙈

Tagging: @in-this-minute @thefemininemystiquee @hotgirlsshareaccounts @azanoni @lokisgoodgirl @goobysgoobers @fuseburner @fictive-sl0th @alexreadz07 @sweetpeapod

Masterlist

Biting your lip nervously, you watched your friend from afar, loading stuff in a car. He was alone, so your only opportunity to ask was probably now - or never. Taking a deep breath, you bit the bullet and walked over to him. "Hey, uh, Glenn?" The black-haired man turned to face you. "Oh, hey Y/N. What's up?" He asked you, smiling. "Can... Can you please get me something from the drugstore you're going to?" "Sure thing, no problem. What is it?" You bit your lip again; shaky fingers handed over a small piece of paper. Glenn took it and slowly unfolded it. His gaze scanned the written words, eyes widening. "Y-Y/N this... This is-" "I know, Glenn, I know. Please, keep this to yourself, okay?" "Of course, but... You know that everyone says I'm bad at keeping secrets?" You sighed, rubbing the heels of your hands in your eyes. "Yes, but you're my best friend. I trust you." The Korean nodded, "You got a point there..." and stuffed the note inside his jeans pocket. "Don't forget it, please." "I won't, promise."

You spent the time walking from one place to the next. Your mind was restless, and so was your body. A billion 'What if...' questions were running through your head on lighting speed. It felt like your skull was going to burst any second. The wait for Glenn to return was almost unbearable. "Y/N? You alright?" Maggie's voice cut through the loud noises in your head. Blinking, you stopped in your motions; looking up to face her. "Y-Yeah, of course." The woman looked at you quite a bit sceptically. "Are you sure? You seem really... uneasy and nervous. Something wrong between you and Daryl?" You quickly shook your head at your friend's words. "No, no! Everything's perfectly fine! We're good. I'm good!" Maggie eyed you a second time doubtfully, "Alright." before she turned around to leave again. You breathed out relieved, closing your eyes. Gods... That was hell.

About two hours later, Glenn and a few Woodbury people came back from the run. Subtly, your best friend handed you the small bag. "You got it?" He nodded. "Yeah. Brought three different brands." You stared at the bag, taking it into your hands. "Thank you." "Of course." You gave Glenn a small smile, which he returned. "You can talk to me about... You know. I-I'm always here for you." "I know - and I appreciate it so much." Before the Korean could even answer, you had pulled him into a big hug.

Now you sat in the cell you shared with Daryl - who was on a hunt at the moment, on the bed, staring at the bag in your hands. You had to do it. You just had to. You needed to know. So, you grabbed all three packages and sneaked into the prison 'bathroom'. Taking the tests were easy. Waiting five minutes for them to show a result was excruciating. Once again you found yourself walking up and down the room, hoping for once time would pass faster. At some point you couldn't take it anymore. You had to look; waited clearly long enough. Closing your eyes for a moment and taking a deep breath, you stepped over to one of the sinks - where you had placed all three tests, and taking a look at them. The first one. Positive. The second test. Positive. And the third result. Positive. "Fuck..." You were pregnant – without a doubt.

Shock wasn't the right word to describe your emotions right now. It wasn't really a shock, since you had the assumption; showing the typical signs for over a week now. Fear and panic were better words. In another world, you would've been happy. Having a baby with the man you loved was everything you ever wanted. Daryl was that man. The rotten, destroyed and dangerous world was a big problem, sure. Not just the walkers were a big threat. The disease, which roamed the prison had been a problem, but also other people out there. People like the Governor, for example. But now that you had the prison back and successfully defended your home against that psychopath, you weren't that concerned about the circumstances and surroundings. The prison was safe. What was a bigger problem and the cause for your main fear and panic, was what had happened only a few months ago... Judith's birth, and Lori's death. She died, birthing a child - and that was what gave you the chills. What if the same fate befell you? What if you were going to die as well, bringing yours and Daryl's baby into this world? Like Lori already once said… This wasn't a hospital. Sure, you had medical supplies - but not enough for a c-section or worse. If there would be complications, you were sure going to die - and you didn't want that. Despite that, it was already kinda hard enough to provide for one baby, but two? You didn't know. You really didn't know. What were you going to do now?

Driven by the panic coursing through your system, you went on search for Glenn. You needed to talk - and your best friend was your safe haven right now. Telling Daryl wasn't an option. Not just because he wasn't here at the moment anyway - which had left you worried sick enough, but also because you just were too afraid. You didn't want to do this to him. If you were really going to die during childbirth, you would put even more weight on his shoulders. He already had to carry enough.

"Glenn?!" You shouted up the guard tower, knowing that he was on watch at the moment. Seconds later, the door sprung open and his head appeared. "Y/N?" He shouted back. "Can... Can I come up?" You choked out; the tears on the brink of falling. "Uh, sure!" Quickly, you made your way up the stairs and through the doors. "T-Thanks." "Sure thing. Did you take the- You did." Glenn said, turning to face you and noticing the tears in your eyes immediately. "Is it... positive?" You nodded. Glenn's eyes widened. "You are... pregnant?" Once again you nodded; having lost the ability to form words. Without another sentence, Glenn bridged the distance between you and him and hugged you close. A big hug - exactly what you needed right now.

The two of you just stood there for a while, embracing each other. The only thing which could be heard, were your quiet sobs of desperation.

"W-What am I doing now, Glenn?" He pulled back from the hug, looking at you a bit confused. "What, uh, do you mean?" You blinked, staring at your best friend. Was he serious right now? He didn't get it? "Glenn, I... I can't have that baby!" And again the black-haired man's eyes widened. "Wait, what? You want to...?" Shrugging your shoulders, more tears started to fall. "N-No, but... I'm afraid of being pregnant; of birthing that baby. You know what happened to Lori! What if this happens to me, too!" Glenn immediately shook his head. "It won't, Y/N. Judith's birth went wrong, because Hershel wasn't with her. Lori was at the wrong place on the wrong time, unfortunately. It won't happen to you." You scoffed, not seeing this as easy as him. "That may be true, but what if Hershel can't be with me as well, huh? For any reason? And nevertheless, this ain't a hospital... It's a goddamn prison." The Korean sighed, tried to reassure you further, but it was no use. "I'm going to take you to Hershel now." He said, grabbing gently your arm and pulling you with him. "W-Why?" "Because maybe he can reassure you; and especially prevent you from having a panic attack." You said nothing; knew that he was actually right, so you didn't protest.

Passing by a lot of familiar faces on the way - due to the people from Woodbury your group had taken in in the prison, Glenn brought you to the small infirmary, where he was surely working.

"Hershel?" Glenn called out, trespassing the big doors with you. "I'm here." You heard the elder man call out, before he stepped out of one of the cells turned hospital rooms. "Glenn, what can I- Oh, hello Y/N." Neither of you said a thing, causing Hershel to look confused at the both of you and get closer. "Is everything alright?" Glenn turned to face you, squeezing your shoulder gently. "I'll leave you to it." With those words and a smile, he disappeared through the doors again, leaving you alone with Hershel. "Are you not feeling well, dear?" "Y-Yes." What were you saying? "N-No, I-" Even more overwhelmed now, you took a deep breath, trying to get yourself together. Hershel could see how you struggled; that you were rattled and of course, that something was bothering you. "Come, Y/N, let's sit down." The older man gave you a soft smile and gestured for you to follow him. He guided you into an empty room, in which he told you to sit on the small bed. "I'll be right back." You nodded, still too shaken up to form words.

A few minutes later, Hershel came back with a water bottle, handing it over to you. "Drink." You nodded once again, twisted the cap open and took a few big sips. "Good. Now take a few deep breaths and tell me what's wrong - if you feel up to it." You did what Hershel instructed you to do; took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down. You needed that. You didn't know it, but you needed that. "Thank you." The man nodded at you, giving you another small smile. "O-Okay, so... Um, I... I wasn't feeling that well for the last few days. Always tired, no matter how much I slept. Sometimes, I had a bit nausea and mood swings... A-And I had to pee more often." You paused for a moment, fiddling nervously with your hands. A look into Hershel's face told you that he already knew what you were trying to say. After all, he was a doctor, but he didn't interrupt you; let you speak on. "W-Well, I counted one and one together and... Glenn brought me three tests. I just took them and..." "They're positive?" You nodded, clenching your jaw in order to suppress the upcoming tears. "W-What do I do now, Hershel?" The older man reached his hand over to gently place it on yours. "Be happy about it. This is a gift. A wonder." You scoffed, controlled by your fear once again. "It wasn't a gift for Lori, was it?" Hershel sighed, knowing exactly what you meant. "What happened to Lori was an accident. It was the wrong place and the wrong situation." "That may be true, but what if I'm going to die, too? What if this baby decides to come in the wrong place and the wrong situation as well?" "That won't happen." "Why are you so sure of that? This just isn't a world to have children anymore." It was a back and forth and throwing arguments - until Hershel shook his head and gave your hand a squeeze. "Now listen to me, Y/N. I know very well that this must be not easy for you. I can understand; given what happened to Lori. But Lori had Carl through a c-section, so the chances were pretty high she needed to have Judith with a c-section as well. You on the other hand have very good chances for a natural birth." He said calmly, pausing for a moment to let his words sink in. "Despite, you are such a strong woman. You've got Daryl by your side. You've got all of us by your side. A safe place with the prison..." He gave you a smile. "We're going to make this."

Hershel's words managed to calm you down a bit and take away some of your anxiety - quite to your surprise. "Y-You think?" "Yes." You nodded and stayed quiet for a moment, before the next thought hit you. "B-But what if Daryl doesn't want this?" A low, hearty chuckle rumbled through the elder man's chest, causing you to look at him confused. "Y/N... That man would do anything for you and that baby. You know just like me how adamant he was to keep Judith alive and healthy. He was the first one who reacted, went immediately out on a run to get her formula. Daryl would never reject that baby, trust me. He is going to be a great father." He squeezed your hand again, giving you another smile, which you couldn't help but return. "Now let's get you checked up and make sure to start on the prenatal vitamins."

And for a short moment, everything was perfectly fine. Sure, you still had your doubts and fears, but the voices in your heads became quieter, due to Hershel. Unfortunately, your happy phase didn't last even three days. Suddenly everything turned sour, when Hershel and Michonne vanished, the Governor returned to take the prison by brutal force with the two missing people in tow as hostages, murdering Hershel in front of yours and everyone's eyes – and the fall of the prison in the end. It happened so fast. Within minutes, everything was heading south with walkers flooding the place and a war breaking loose. Suddenly everybody around you was crying and yelling, while you just tried to hold on to Daryl - but it was no use... In the end, you lost him, got separated from him and ended up with Tyreese, who had saved baby Judith - and who absolutely wasn't bad at all, but Tyreese wasn't Daryl. The prison was destroyed, your family split up, not knowing who survived and who didn't. Your boyfriend and still unbeknownst to him, father of your child was probably dead and you had absolutely nothing left. Within a blink of an eye, you had a mess on your hands.

"We have to go back!" You shouted after Tyreese, as he walked on through the woods, further away from the prison. "We have to go back and look for him!" Your friend gave you no answer, just continued to walk on. With a cocktail of anger, hurt, frustration and sadness coursing through your veins, you quickly caught up to him. "Tyreese!" He stopped suddenly abruptly in his tracks. "We can't, Y/N! We can't! Don't you see? Our home is destroyed, overrun with walkers! Going back there would be suicide!" "I don't care! I have to find him!" Tyreese sighed, bouncing Judith in his arms to keep her asleep and quiet. "I know this is hard for you and I am truly so, so sorry, but we have to look after Judith now. Make sure she survives." A part of you knew that the man was more than right, but your heart just couldn't accept this. You had to made sure that the man you loved was alright. So the emotions inside you exploded, causing you to reveal your 'secret' to your friend. "And I have to make sure that the father of my baby is alive!" Your eyes widened immediately after the words had left your lips, realisation dawning on you. Tyreese's eyes widened as well; his jaw dropping. "You... You are pregnant?" You nodded; tears threatening to fall. "Please, Tyreese, please..." Your voice was quieter and softer now, on the verge of begging. The man sighed once again, before placing a free hand on your upper arm, squeezing reassuringly. "No. It's too late." You wanted to speak up again, but Tyreese was quick to cut you off. "It won't change a thing if we are going back there." "Fine. Then I'm going alone." You wanted to turn on your heels and go, but Tyreese stopped you; grabbed your arm gently. "I can't and won't let you, Y/N. You are pregnant! I'd never forgive myself if something would happen to you. We stay together. Maybe we find Daryl somewhere around here. He is a survivor, you know that." Those words seemed to finally do the trick and convince you to not go back. Instead, you fell into Tyreese's arm, hugging his side and crying against his shoulder.

"Y/N!" Daryl looked around frantically, scanning his surroundings, while taking out several walkers on his way. "Y/N!" He couldn't see you. He just couldn't see you. "Y/N!" The tank, standing in the yard distracted his search for a moment, as he made sure to push a grenade down the gun, causing the man inside to jump out, before the tank exploded. Daryl was quick in driving an arrow through the enemy's chest; looking once again around. "Y/N!" The archer was on the edge of despair, so afraid to lose you. He had held your hand so tight and nevertheless, you were just suddenly gone, vanished into thin air, just because he had to use the hand which was clasping yours to kill an approaching walker. It was a mistake. He should've never let you go and rather just waste an arrow. Feeling the tears coming up in his eyes and witnessing more walkers storming the destroyed home they had built up, he screamed out your name from the top of his lungs for one last time. No response. No you. "Fuck!" He cursed, throwing his weapons to the ground and rubbing the heels of his hands in his eyes - until a familiar voice spoke up behind him.

"Daryl!" The archer spun around. His gaze landed on a young woman with blonde hair. Beth. "I was trying to find the kinds to get them on the bus." Daryl shook his head. "I lost Y/N. I can't find 'er. I can't find 'er." Beth looked at him compassionately, taking his hand. "I'm so sorry, Daryl." The man was quiet for a moment, until he ripped his hand loose from the teenager's soft grip. "You gotta Beth, you gotta go. Get yourself to safety." The young woman's eyes widened. "No! I-I... What about you?" "I can't leave. I need ta find Y/N. I can't lose her." Beth frantically shook her head. "You can't, Daryl. If you stay, you're going to get yourself killed! There are too many walkers!" "Don care. Gotta find 'er." He wanted to walk past Beth, but she held him back with a hand pressed against his chest. "No! Y/N wasn't inside the prison. I didn't see her. You couldn't find her outside. What if she was inside the bus, or left already with someone else?" Daryl's eyes flickered, the gears in his head turning. "Please... If you go in there now and get yourself killed, Y/N is the one who is going to suffer. You don't want that, do you?" Daryl swallowed, shaking his head. "No." "See? Now come on. We have to go. We'll look for her, I promise!" He nodded and followed Beth, still not sure if this was the right decision.

Time passed. Day after day went by. While you, Tyreese and Judith found Carol on your way, Daryl lost Beth to god knows who and found Rick, Carl and Michonne somewhere on the way. They weren't you, but he was relieved to see that other members of his family had survived. Unfortunately, they didn't know what happened to you as well, leaving the archer still in the dark. It was torturous. But so it was for you.

At some point, you lost track of time, couldn't tell if the weeks had already turned to months or not. What you knew was, that the baby living inside you, must be there already for at least three months, since you lately started to show, having a small baby bump now. Carol quickly counted one and one together as well, making sure together with Tyreese that you were safe and protected.

Well... And then Terminus happened. While Daryl tried to stay alive with the others, Carol went on a rescue mission. You wanted to accompany her at all costs, but of course she didn't let you. She didn't want to risk your life and with that the baby's life as well. So, you stayed behind in that little hut with Tyreese and Judith, making sure that this strange man you took hostage didn't escape. Let's put it this way... Not every part of it went according to plan, but in the end everything turned out to be fine. More than fine, actually...

"I'm not digging around with this crap. We just made it out." "The fences are down. They'll run or die." Daryl listened in silence to the group and Rick's arguing, biting his lower lip - until he heard the leaves of the forest ground crunch, alerting him that someone - or most likely rather something must be there. He was right. But it wasn't something. It was someone. Carol. Daryl couldn't believe his eyes, seeing his best friend standing there, only a few feet away. He didn't think he would ever see her again. Not after she had been banished by Rick. But there she was. Daryl didn't hesitate, ran over to her and pulled her into a big hug. That attracted the others attention as well. Everyone was exhausted to the core, but undeniably happy to see Carol. Rick as well. He approached the two friends. "Did you do that?" Carol nodded meekly, on the verge of tears. Rick went immediately to hug her, wrapping both his arms tightly around his friend. "Thank you." The grey-haired woman retreated from the hug, smiling softly. "You have to come with me."

That was exactly what they all did. They followed Carol to the little hut… "They're back! Y/N they're back!" Tyreese exclaimed, watching their family approach the hut through one of the windows. "Really?!" You literally jumped up from where you sat on the ground beside Judith's makeshift crib. "Yes!" "Daryl! Can you see Daryl?!" Tyreese turned to face you, smiling. "Look for yourself." You sprinted to the window, seeing familiar and also a few unfamiliar faces. Among them, was Daryl. Seeing him kickstarted your heart, sending waves of pure happiness through your veins. "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh," you splattered out, before moving over to run out of the hut. "Daryl! Daryl!" The archer's eyes shot up, landing directly on you. For the second time within minutes, he couldn't believe his eyes. He had already lost hope, thinking he was never ever going to see you again. "Y/N..." He breathed out, letting his crossbow fall to the ground and running towards you, meeting you halfway in a hug. You literally jumped into his arms, wrapping both your arms and legs around him. "Daryl..." You sobbed, burying your face in his neck. "Y/N..." You could tell that Daryl was crying as well. His voice quivering and unsteady. The world around you faded. Just you and Daryl existed in that very moment. "I-I thought I lost you. I thought I was never going to see you again." You stammered, still clinging to him. "Me too. I couldn't find ya. I searched for ya, but I just couldn't find ya." "I'm here now." You whispered with a smile, peppering the skin on his neck with small kisses. "I am never going let ya out of my sight again, I promise. 'M gonna protect you better, I swear." You shook your head. "You always protect me as best as you can. This wasn't your fault. Stop blaming yourself, please. It was the Governor's fault. Nobody else's." Daryl just nodded against your shoulder, relieved that he had you back in his arms. That was everything what mattered in that moment. You held him for another while, before you untangled yourself from around your boyfriend and backed up a bit, just enough to look into his blue, greyish eyes. Though, one eye was slightly swollen and red. All in all, he looked quite battered and bruised, causing your heart to ache. Gently, you cupped his scruffy cheeks, looking at him with furrowed brows, worried. He noticed that of course, "M fine. Don worry." and started immediately to rub reassuring circles in the clothed skin of your hips with his thumbs. "You don't look fine, Daryl." The archer shook his head. "M fine, really. Jus' a black eye and a few cuts and bruises... How are you? You alright?" His question reminded you suddenly of the baby, growing in your womb. His baby. You swallowed. Now was the time to tell him, wasn't it?

"Y-Yes, I am, b-but there's something I need to tell you, I-" "We need to go." Rick's voice suddenly cut through the air, loud enough to catch both, yours and Daryl's attention. The archer looked at his brother, an arm still protectively wrapped around you. He hadn't noticed your small baby bump yet. "Yeah, but where?" He asked. "Somewhere far away from there," answered Rick, everybody shuffling around to get ready for moving along. Daryl nodded, thinking the same as Rick. "You two coming?" "Yes, just give us a minute. We'll catch up." You jumped to answer your friend, before Daryl could. You had to tell him. Now. "Alright. Just don't stay behind. We'll make sure to look out for you." You nodded, giving him a smile. "Thanks." The others went to follow Rick, leaving you and Daryl on your own - for now. The archer's gaze met yours again, fear and worry clouding his blue-grey orbs. "What is it?" Daryl asked, eyes suddenly widening. "You didn't get bit, did ya?!" You quickly shook your head. "No, no! It's not that! I didn't get bit!" He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing out relieved. "Thank fuck. What is it then?" You took a deep breath. Now or never. "I-I'm pregnant." Daryl blinked, looking at you incredulously. "W-What?" You bit your lip, gently reaching for his hand and placing it on your small baby bump for him to feel. "I-I'm pregnant." An audible gasp left his lips; emotions getting stuck in his throat and tears blurring his vision. "P-Pregnant? Y-Yer pregnant?" You nodded, having to fight the tears once again as well. "Oh Y/N..." Daryl sobbed, engulfing you in another hug.

"Since when do you know?" You swallowed hard, knowing that this question would come. "A few days before the prison fell..." "W-What?" He was shocked. "Why didn't you tell me?" "I'm sorry. I-I wanted to, but I was so afraid because of what happened to Lori a-a-and I dunno... Before I could tell you, everything went south. I'm so sorry." "Damnit, Y/N... Jus' imagine what could've happen if you ended up alone out there? Ya could've died!" "But I didn't! I found Tyreese and Carol. They took care of me. They always made sure I was okay." Daryl scoffed, but took your hands into his. "Don scare the shit outta me again, woman, I swear…" You had to smile softly at his words, shaking your head, "Promise." and stood on your tiptoes to kiss him lovingly. "Let's catch up to the others. You stay close ta me. I don't want ya out of my sight, understood?" You nodded. "Yes, Sir." "Good." The archer intertwined your fingers with his, grabbed his crossbow and gently pulled you with him, in order to catch up to the others - what you did in the end. "So, you're not mad at me, that I'm, well... Pregnant?" Once again, he shook his head. "Why should I? This is wonderful, actually. Maybe not the best time, but we're gonna make this. Judith made it, too." You smiled up at him, your heart full and content with love. "I love you." "I love ya too, sunshine - and I promise I'm goin' to look after you and that kid."

[arsenal-womens-1]

Mama mom and auntie Caitlin

 

 My mom has been acting weird; they have been fighting a lot. Mom has been staying with Auntie Shebahn for the past 2 days, and Auntie Caitlin has been over a lot. 

 

I have asked Mama what has happened, but she won't tell me. I'm not Ruesha and Katie's biological daughter. I was at the Arsenal U10s program, and Katie had an interest in me because I was apparently a good player. I was put up for adoption when I was 3 days old, but the adoption never went through, and I was placed in foster care. 

 

I'm now 17, and I play on the Arsenal senior team. I play as a striker and defender. I'm currently sitting on a chair. I knew what my mama wanted to tell me, but I didn't want it to be true. I was snapped out of my thoughts by Mama talking, "y/n, I need to tell you something because you need to know... me and Ru." I know what's about to come out of her mouth. 

 

It was like slow motion: "We have decided to break up, "I just staired at her, "Did you cheat on her with Caitlin?" A look of guilt goes over her face. " "I-" . I get up and walk out of the room. A few of the girls were standing there. Caitlin was one of them. She reaches out to stop me from going. The rest of the girls look confused. "Get the fuck off me. Why the fuck did you do it?" I get out of her grip and go to the car. and drive off. I drive to the London City Lionesses trying ground, and I park. I can see everyone on the pitch; they are in practice. I sit for 10 minutes, then get out and go in. They know me because I've been there before. 

 

I knock on the door to see if anyone is in there. When I don't get an answer, I go out to the pitch, and the boss sees me. I stand off to the side. She comes and stands next to me. She looks at me with sad eyes, telling me she knows why I'm hearing "Hey, sorry, I don't know why, to be honest." 

 

"It's all good. I guess you know now." 

I look at the players on the pitch and say, "What I'm meant to do, I can't look at them without feeling betrayed; she was my aunt.". 

 

Time skip: 3 weeks later 

 

Not a lot has happened except the fact that I've stopped talking to everyone. I'm now staying with Viv Beth and sometimes mom, but mostly Viv and Beth. I don't want to be at Arsenal anymore, so I've decided to have a meeting with the managers and other people to see what I can do to get out of here, even if that means I have to go to the USA. If I want to get out of here, I need to. 

 

It's like I'm suffocating while staying here. 

 

After the meeting (I can't be bothered to write it), 

 

So that was eventful for the first part of the meeting. They did want to let me go, but in the end, after I said I would quit football, they decided to lone me out to Gotham; it's a team in the USA. 

 

I don't really want to leave mom, and to be honest, I don't really want to leave mama, but I need a new start and a fresh slate. I want to go and be able to breathe. Maybe mom will follow me to the USA. I don't think Mama would, and to be honest, I haven't talked to Mama. I'm still angry at her, but she's still my Mama, and I still love her. 

 

It's been three weeks since we made the deal with Gotham. I have yet to tell anyone I need to tell them because in two days it's the end of the season. Then it's the World Cup, so I need to tell them today, but I don't know how to tell them. 

 

I'm sitting on the pitch, and a bunch of the girls next to me are all talking about the next game. the World Cup and the new signings that will happen Leah was talking about people transferring, and everybody was saying who they thought would go where. 

 

I say in a hushed tone, "I'm going to Gotham." I guess it wasn't quite, and Beth said loudly, "You're moving to Gotham!" 

————————————————————————————

There is a part two but I’ve not finished it it’s not my best work but I’ve got a few more from another app that I think I might post here the alexia one will be out when I write it which  will probably be soon

[m3ntally-unstable]

can you write a drew starkey x fem!reader imagine where drew has a crush on the reader and he has for a while, but he doesn't think the reader likes him back until one day he like drunk confesses or just impulsively tells her? <3

A/N : Yes I will try (I’ve never written before) I’m sorry I’m so late on this I’m just so nervous to write stuff 😭😭

I love you..

Drew starky x fem!Reader

Warnings:- drinking,use of y/n , drew being drunk most of the time, some insta posts (tell me if I’m missing anything.)

__________________________________________

having a well-known acting career and appearing in TV series such as Vampire Diaries, Stranger Things, and Ginny and Georgia, I've had my fair share of romantic relationships and crushes on coworkers.

I have had both positive and negative emotions from every person I have dated. Nonetheless I still have a lot of my partners as friends, though.

When I got casted on outerbanks, I was already working on a project which required all of my time in another state in a whole ,leading to me having to decline the role.

After finishing said project , and sulking over not excepting the offer i got a call from my agent telling me that I was getting handed a role,a really good one .No audition needed. As the love interest of a rich playboy (wonder who that is).

———//———//———//———//———//———//—

“What exactly is the show again?…” I asked annoyed that I was being disturbed from my beauty sleep.

“Firstly I never told you aaand secondly it’s for.. outerbanks!”

What.

The show I declined? The show that made me regret doing my previous project instead of it? The show where my college crush- AHEM. right where was I

“Hellooo? You there y/n?..”

“Uhhh yeah sorry. You can call back and say yes”

“I already did. I was just telling you”

“Wow oka-“

——————————————————————-

Originally I believed that when I joined the cast of the outerbanks drew starkey would forget about me, but judging off of the happy smile on his face when he saw me or how his eyes softened when I talked about something I was interested in told me otherwise. I was finally gonna tell him. Tell him I l-

Actually I just shouldn’t go! Yeah. Why face the embarrassment of drew not feeling same! Yeah that’s smar-

Ting!

Madisyn bby

Girl, we need to go shopping for

Dresses ASAP . It’s already 3

And the party IS AT 9

You

Woah woah ok I’ll

Meet you out in 5😭

Madisyn bby

That’s what I thought

You

Yeah yeah 😒

Madisyn bby

GET READY!!

Read 12:45

__________________________________________

“Ok , red or black?” I asked with hesitation on the choices i had just tried on. “Definitely black girl, you look so hot” madisyn replied “maybe match it with some green?” Elaine said “that would look so good” Maddie added with a wink towards Elaine.

“Hey hey what’s up with the winking” I asked panicked “oh you know just Drew’s favourite colour..” madisyn mumbled out. I felt my eye twitching at the three of them I felt the heat rise up to my cheeks

“god you guys” I blushed and ran into the changing room soon hearing the laughter of the 3 girls.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed girlie pop” Elaine teased “easy for you to say your already dating someone ” I whined

———————————————————————Elameeeee

°

°

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elameeeee had too much fun shopping with my girls for season wrap party

Y/nuser I will find you.

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———————————————————————————————————

As soon as I walked into the venue of the party the only that came to mind was my insecurities. Would Drew ever like someone like me? Someone who isn’t as pretty as his ex’s?

Instead of overthinking maybe I should just drink it away .yeah that sounds goo-

“Y/N!”

God what is with people and interrupting me today?! I turned around and looked around not seeing anyone who seemed to be calling my name

“Over here!” I turned a bit to the right and saw

Drew.

Oh my. No no no. I’m not ready yet I was still in the middle of overthinking.

He came running up to me with the cutest grin on his face “hey.” He said out of breath “hi Drew” I responded while looking down because I could feel the blood rushing up.

“You- uh you look beautiful ” he stuttered out after actually taking a good look at my dress. If I wasn’t blushing earlier I sure am now.

“You don’t look half-bad yourself starkey” I giggled out trying to regain my confidence.

I couldn’t help but notice the small blush spread across his face after hearing my comment. God that’s so embarrassing, why did I even say that.

“DREW MY MAN!” I hear non other than Rudy come up. Rudy was nice , I saw him as my best friend, like a brother, Rudy and I were two pods in a pea, me and him grew up together in Atlanta and only moved apart because of high school, we still often texted and chatted but it never felt the same as being with him in person

“RUDY!” I squealed

“Y/n!” He rushed into my arms and pulled me into his into his tight embrace “oh my god , I missed you so much”

He chuckled “I missed you too n/n” he pulled back “look at you, miss hell on wheels”

“You guys know eachother?” Drew asked “yeah, me and Rudy grew up together” I responded Rudy agreeing with me “oh okay..”

“So um let’s head inside?”

———————————————————————

It was currently 1:25 am and observing how everyone was almost knocked out , except for jd and me obviously, who else was going to take care of them?

“I’ll order a Uber for Rudy and Elaine , you should stay with drew,the girls and me , it’s not a problem” JD offered

“Yeah That’d be great , thank you jd” he nodded

Now , the biggest challenge of all, getting them back to the apartment. Sigh, why am I even here.

“Drew come on , let’s go”

“Ughnnn, no I don’t wanna” he wrapped his arms around my waist and stared into my eyes

“Drew-” he put his head into the crook of my neck. God I can feel his breath. It’s okay , just get him back to the apartment and done

“Y/n Come on let’s go!” JD honked from the car

“Come on drew” I practically dragged him out, but what surprised me that he didn’t let go. “Drew let go”

“Nghhhh” he somehow just cuddled in deeper to me

This is going to be a long night.

———————————————————————

Having to drag this 80kg man down a hallway into a bed is like doing bodybuilding.

“Come on Drew go to bed”

“Don’t leaveeeee” he whined

I sighed out of frustration, “okay cmon big boy let’s go to bed” I stepped into bed and stayed on my side of the bed, not wanting it to be awkward.

He tried wrapping his arms around me “heyyy, come closer”

“Drew what has gotten into you” I mumbled, as he wrapped his arms around my waist and stuffed his head into the crook of my neck like earlier today

“You know drew im so gonna make fun o-”

“Do you and Rudy have something going on” he spoke clearly for the first time that night.

WHAT?!

“What are you on about drew.” He still waited for a response “no!” He sighed like he was holding his breath and leaned back into my shoulder.

“I love you” his voice came muffled but , I knew what he said, if it wasn’t so dark , he would’ve seen how red I’d become just from that one comment

“Drew come on your drunk-”

He lifted his head “I mean it.”

Oh my god. Is the world spinning? I can’t breathe!. Okay , no calm, he’s drunk he doesn’t mean it. Your okay yea-

Suddenly I felt lips on mine, it took me a moment to realise what was happening and I kissed back. no this is wrong, I pulled away

“Drew we can’t do this.. not again”

“Y/n , I know you feel it, please.”

I paused thinking of what to say , hearing him plead with his puppy eyes under the moonlight was intoxicating

“Drew your drunk, I won’t do anything, until I know you mean it”

Drew didn’t respond, he slowly made a Noice of confirmation and understood where I was coming from and put his head back down to its original position.

I knew he wasn’t sleeping but it was peaceful knowing we were just lying there. I felt my eyes get heavy but before I let slumber take me I said

“Hey drew..”

“Hmm”

“Tell me that again tomorrow”

I felt him smile against my neck and muzzle into me more

“Ofcourse”

———————————————————————-

The next morning , i woke up with Drew still having his arms wrapped around me and a particular instagram post that made me actually realised what was happening

Rudeth

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Rudeth saves this wiles you can people , before y/n wakes up and kills me #y/drew

@y/nuser and @drewstarkey

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———————————————————————

Not proofread

[ciaomarie]

Waiting on my AO3 invite. Here's a one shot Sydcarmy story. Canon compliant. Post season 2. Please excuse the grammar/spelling mistakes. I need season 3 to get here quickly!

Title: Won't You Be My Neighbor

It was her break and for the 89th time in the last three days Sydney reassessed the apartments within 15 minutes walking distance from The Bear. As CDC she no longer wanted to depend on the train should there be some kind of accident, strike, or weather event. There were three that she could afford on her own and many more options if she were willing to become a roommate. She wasn't. If inspiration for a recipe struck her at 2am she wanted to get up and cook if she wanted. She loved the freedom of walking around naked after a shower, picking out her clothes or getting a snack. Most of all she missed turning up her music and dancing like an inflatable tube man in private.

She had sent a message to each leasing office to schedule an appointment next Monday and two of the three had confirmed a 10a and 11a showing. It had been more than 48 hours since she messaged the third so she called. The leasing agent informed her that the specific unit she wanted was no longer available, but they had a gorgeous 2 bedroom for $3800 a month if she was interested. "Okay, now that's just two options" Sydney muttered after getting off the phone.

"Hey mija, what you looking at?" Tina asked sitting down to eat lunch.

"Just apartments. I finally have the funds to move" Sydney answered with a sigh.

"What's wrong? Aren't you happy to be getting out on your own?"

"Oh, yeah for sure. It's just I'm really picky"

"Well, it doesn't have to be forever. Just make sure to read the reviews. You don't want roaches or bed bugs".

"Oh, I can't stand bugs! My dad still has to kill them for me, but I better get a fly swatter and spray now that I'll be on my own soon."

Break was over and Sydney stood up to resume her duties. First she needed to talk to Natalie about the upcoming private party. A celebrity had reserved the entire restaurant next Thursday evening. The names of all staff members on duty that night had to be submitted ahead of time with signed NDAs. It was all happening so fast and The Bear's debt was likely to be paid less than a year after opening. First there had been a Grio article about her being a rising black chef. That led to Keith Lee, the TikTok restaurant reviewer, raving about his to-go order that included the T-Bone and the Michael cannoli. It went viral and suddenly, they were booked for the next three months with a waiting list. She was working harder than ever, getting paid pretty well, and she deserved a place of her own.

After talking to Natalie, she found Carmy working on her prep.

"Hey, thanks! I can take over that now if you want"

"Actually….it's done. I wanted to take you somewhere for like 30 minutes" he said finishing up and cleaning the station.

Sydney folded her arms, her eyebrows raised high.

"Okay, where are we going?"

"I know you've been looking for a place and I think know the perfect apartment for you. Just a 10 minute walk from here. The landlord gave me the key so I could show you today" Carmy said trying to sound casual, but a deep pink flush rose in his cheeks.

"Why is he being weird?" Sydney thought but simply said "Okay, that's dope."

The Chicago air was soft and warm, the clean sunlight making everything look new. Summer afternoons like this made you forgive the brutal winters here. Carmy directed Sydney when to turn left and right, but refused to tell her where exactly they were going. Soon they were standing in front of his building.

The reason for his weirdness was now perfectly clear to Sydney and she felt so flattered that she had to avoid looking at Carmy when she said "So, there's an open unit in your building?"

"Uh, yeah. The people who lived just above me moved and I, uh, thought you might want to see it".

The apartment was on the fourth floor. Carmy unlocked the door and let Sydney go in first. The walls were freshly painted in "Cloud White" and the oak hardwood floors creaked comfortably under their feet. The layout was the same as Carmy's apartment with plenty of windows to let in natural light and a shockingly large kitchen for a 1 bedroom place in Chicago. As Sydney inspected the appliances and bathroom, she decided that if the rent was going to eat up even half of her check it was worth it. She had always admired Carmy's spacious apartment and with her sense of style she could make hers, a cozy bohemian oasis filled with plants, wall art, and actual furniture (eventually).

Carmy had let her roam around in silence for a few minutes, muttering and emitting tiny sounds of joy to herself. When she met him in the living room again, he said trying not to grin too widely, "If you like it, it's already yours."

"How? I know places like this are snatched up fast" Sydney said her eyes finally able to meet his again.

"The landlords, they're a couple, and their 20th wedding anniversary is coming up. They want reservations at The Bear." Carmy explained, desperately hoping to sound nonchalant about it.

"Oh, that's nice work, Carmy."

Then Sydney squealed and cried "This is just what I wanted!!" and she flung her arms around his shoulders in a wild hug. Carmy commanded his body not to shudder as he hugged her back. She was just wearing a t-shirt and without her usual layers of clothing he felt her delicate frame, her slim shoulder blades imprinting on his fingers.

In a moment Sydney pulled back shly and let her arms fall to her sides, her face burning. She made a mental note: Hugging Carmy. Not a safe activity for those who want to cook along side him using sharp objects or sleep peacefully at night dreaming innocent thoughts.

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!" Sydney said taking another step back and making another turn around the room.

Carmy nodded and concentrated on not melting into the floorboards.

"You're okay with this? We already spend 60+ hours together at the restaurant every week and now I'd be in your building! And literally living on top of you."

"Yeah, well, I want you to. You deserve everything you want, Syd."

"Then I'll take it! Just a warning though. If you hear someone belting out Kpop and an occasional thud, that's just my weekly one woman concert, which will be over no later than 10pm. I'm not being murdered."

Carm was no longer unable to contain the width of his smile. This girl is so cute, his body physically ached. How would he get through service tonight?

With a happy shake of his head, he replied, "Thank you, for the heads up!"

With that Sydney marched towards the door and exclaimed "Take me to your landlord!"

Carmy floated behind her.

Cue: Maxwell's "Whenever, Wherever, Whatever"

[lilacstro]

pac: messages from universe

back with another pac, trying to post as much ideas I had last week haha. choose between two piles today, i felt to do two instead of three irdk why, sincerely hoping it resonates.

paid readings are open :)

pile 1 pile 2

support me on ko-fi :)

Pile 1

"discontent" with wherever you are currently it seems. Very simple and clear messages coming through. I feel you all are holding on to something, some mindset, some unaligned person or something like that, which could be holding you back. I feel there is lack of appreciation for what situation you are in currently, you all are very out of touch with your higher inner self, your feminine and receptive side, trying to "justify" wrong feelings and things. The message for you is to go back to home. The lyrics coming up "home, let me go home, home is wherever I am with you", and you here, is yourself pile 1. dont be so caught up and hurried that you disconnect yourself from yourself and being. Don't be hurried to start something new, go to your destination skipping beats, worried and in a haste about the future or the thoughts that you are behind. No you are not. You are where you should be, and you will go through your destination through a journey, which will help you grip on the things you have been asking for. Universe is literally lending its hand to you, guiding you through your purpose and desires. Take inspired actions, talk to your loved ones, and embrace the season you are in, it wont be the same in a while. A manifestation for you is about to come true. If something was removed from your life or your life feels empty, you are about to receive what you have always wanted, the one that aligns with you, universe is making space for it in your life. Have a hold of yourself for now, try not to sulk if you are, and i promise you, you will be rewarded for putting your trust in the universe. A message coming through is a quote from buddha, "the dirt of the mind settles on its own", i heard a knock on my door as im writing this, something/someone is about to show up for you soon! also, consider going out, sitting in the sun. i also had a feeling you are struggling to make a choice of sorts, you are likely to get advice from someone, or as i may say, please take an advice from someone you trust.

Advices: 1. Stop and let it grow around you for a while. 2. anything you want, its out there somewhere 3. Make space for it 4.Rest, be gentle with yourself. 5. Content with what i already have 6. You are always shifting, and you can shift mountains too <3

I hope it resonated, all the best <33

Pile 2

The energy in this pile is so scattered, i mean different possibilities coming through. A possibility im getting for some of the people reading this pile is something changed overnight, something came crashing down. As soon as I was trying to comprehend this, my sister started singing, "you think, you'd never find another so pure, it ain't true, ain't true, ain't true, ain't no crying in the club hey hey, let the beat carry the tears as they fall baby" this is crying in the club by camilla cabello

another set of people seem to be doing relatively good, some of you might also be working on their goals and purpose with sheer determination.

Regardless of your situation, your message is clear, "your hard work will be rewarded, and everything would be so happy and joyous, it will be better than expected". if someone here was working for a family related problem or for their family, you guys would celebrate the good times coming together, its victory for you!! I definitely think there is a lot of love and harmony from the angels and higher deities you believe in, as if they are looking over you, and if you are not there yet, I see your angels will guide you through, helping you achieve the happiness you deserve. I see some of you could be meeting a partner sent from divine, something your guides would orchestrate for you. If not, then someone, maybe friends or family coming together for a celebration of some sorts, If you are even feeling stuck at the moment pile 2, its extremely short lived, this will blow out much faster than you think. If you are afraid about some important communication coming through, be assured whatever happens will happen for your highest good. I hope you all can keep on hanging in there, don't make a mess out of confusing yourself, stand firm in yourself and take actions you feel you need to take. An opportunity for travel coming through, for others, you are closing out cycles, and going to something new in your life. Release the old baggage that you don't need then, and resolve all your feelings. An advice for you is to connect with earth, maybe walk on soil and grass barefoot, maybe sit in a lotus pose and do meditations on ground. Happy times ahead for you<3 universe is just preparing you for that it seems.

Advice: 1.Ride the wave, see where it takes you 2.Find balance 3.Make the best of it 4.You have support, trust and release 5. Listen quietly 6. Its okay to feel feelings :)

I hope this resonated for you pile 2, i love you.

[wileys-russo]

golden boot, golden girl II r.daly x reader

this started off as a blurb but about 2.3k words later, it's a fic 🕺

golden boot, golden girl II r.daly x reader

"go on girls push up on em, hug em tight!" katie cupped her hands over her mouth and shouted to you all from the corner as you began to shove in as close to the goal as you could get. you were two down and though you refused to check, you knew your time to get anything on the score sheet was running out fast.

as katie connected for the kick the ball came in hard and fast, angled almost perfectly for you to get your head on it and hopefully send it into the back of the net. 

however you felt an elbow dig into your back and with a half step forward you lost your footing, falling to the ground and glancing up to see the ball fly right over you toward the back post, quickly kicked out of play by a defender as the final whistle sounded and the crowd errupted with cheers, the villa players all running to celebrate with one another in the middle of the field.

letting out a deep sigh you rolled onto your back and stayed laid down on the pitch, feeling the warm afternoon sun bathe your face as you covered your eyes with your arm. "come on up now, no time for sulking." manu kicked gently at you as you lazily swatted her foot away and mumbled something she didn't quite catch, the older woman retreating to console the rest of your team.

"hey you, you played really well." another gentle poke to your side. 

you removed your arm and squinted one eye open to meet the caring and concerned gaze of your former team mate, jordan smiling sympathetically as she sat down beside you on the pitch. "i missed three sitters and gave away two free kicks, one of which was scored from!" you grumbled in annoyance, slumping your arm back over your face with a sigh.

"that doesn't mean you didn't play well, the better team just won." jordan poked teasingly again at your side, the older girl having been somewhat of a sisterly figure in the years you'd played together you knew she didn't mean anything by the comment. 

"i am at least glad you're getting the minutes you deserve jordy." you pulled yourself up into a sitting position, the older girl wrapping you in a tight hug before excusing herself to celebrate with her team as you once more flopped back down onto the pitch. 

much as you were at first angry and disappointed when she'd informed you of her transfer, with time you understood why it was needed, and her successful season had only confirmed it for you further.

"oi lazy, the grass called and complained you're squashin it!" a much less gentle kick to your side had you glancing up at the grinning irish woman who offered you a hand. though you should have known better than to accept, as just after your fingers touched she was quick to drop her grip, sending you stumbling back onto your bum.

"mccabe!" you brushed yourself off and glared up at her, kicking your legs out to try and sweep hers out from under her but you were much too slow as she sent you a cheeky wink. 

"come on then, up we get now!" with that she grabbed your hands again, this time properly pulling you up and slinging a strong arm across your shoulders. 

marching the two of you across the field she talked your ear off about not being so hard on yourself, which given the nature of the fact you were your own harshest critic, was a speech you'd heard after almost every match you played. and if it wasn't from her, it was just coming from someone else.

after shaking hands with most of your opposition, exchanging friendly end of season small talk with those you knew well from playing at a national level, you found yourself again sat on the pitch but this time sandwiched inbetween leah and katie, across from you were rafa, beth and viv, the six of you sat in a circle soaking up the sun and discussing your upcoming planned holidays during the off season.

"how's it feeling?" you quietly murmured to leah glancing down at her bandaged knee where her crutches lay beside her, resting your head on her shoulder. even without needing her to confirm you knew she wasn't okay, but you'd also known her long enough to know she wasn't someone easily pushed into opening up. 

"physically? it's alright. everything else? story for another time." the blonde pressed a kiss to your forehead, affectionately patting your leg and nodding for viv to give her a hand up. as your circle dispersed you wandered around looking around for the one person you were yet to speak to, who was also the one you'd been dying to all match.

"hi squinty." tattooed arms wrapped tightly around you from behind, rough but warm lips pressed a few soft kisses to your jawline as you spun around in your girlfriends hold. "you promised you'd stop calling me that." you huffed, smacking at her shoulder as the blonde grinned, loving nothing more than to tease and wind you up and boy was she good at it, and in any way that she wanted.

"well if you wore your contacts when you played or your glasses every other day, i wouldn't need to, would i?" rachel teased, hands moving to rest on your hips as she pushed you softly into the barrier behind you, pressing her body into yours and leaning in. you closed your eyes expecting her lips to touch yours however they simply pressed a kiss to your cheek and she stepped away.

"sorry i can't be seen snogging losers, its bad for my reputation." she shrugged crossing her arms over her chest as you rolled your eyes. but your girlfriend knew she was the only person who could get away with sledging you after a loss without you taking it personally, she was avidly also your biggest supporter and made sure not to let you forget it.

"didn't realise your reputation as a naff muppet would be affected by kissing a cute girl." you shot back jumping up to sit on the edge of the barrier, crossing your own arms over your chest with a satisfied smirk. "oh a naff muppet she says does she?" rachel scoffed, slotting her body inbetween your legs as you nodded in confirmation.

"yeah look i've actually been meaning to end this-" you gestured between the two of you, "-we had our fun and all babe but really i'm just...i'm just too out of your league. i can't keep settling it's a bad look, fitties have to date fitties and..." you trailed off, looking her up and down with a wince.

"you were the best 557 night stand i ever had kid." you continued dramatically with a sigh, placing your hands either side of her face and squeezing her cheeks as she stared blankly back at you, waiting patiently for you to finish. 

"it's not you it's me. ahh i like you too much, i'm holding you back. what else? oh! in order for us to be a better we, i have to be a better me." you paused to think before continuing, finishing with a beaming grin at the unimpressed look on the older girls face. "are you done then?" she quipped with a roll of her eyes.

"yeah i think that pretty much covers it?" you stroked your chin mockingly, looking off into the distance with a contemplative hum. though you let out a yell as suddenly you were looking at the ground again, your girlfriend easily slinging your smaller form over her shoulder.

"rach! put me down." you couldn't help but laugh as the blonde smacked playfully at your bum with her free hand. "i will, gonna water board you in this cooler here first though." your girlfriend replied, waving to your team mates who called our their usual teasing remarks, you flipping them off as you were carried past. 

"wait i have to go get my stuff!" you tried to jump down as she walked off the field and toward the villa change rooms, though her hold on you only tightened. "as the one whose just been dumped i get to go first thanks." 

~

"kiss it!" you struggled underneath the taller girl as she sat on top of you, arms firmly pressed to the bed by her knees as she grinned, the seasons golden boot trophy held tightly in her hands.

"no! i refuse." you pressed your head back into the pillow, shaking your head from side to side as she wiggled the shoe shaped piece of silverware in your face. "baby you either kiss it willingly and i get off ya and we go to dinner, or we continue on like this and you miss out on your pizza." the blonde shrugged, looking down at you.

"are you threatening me right now?" your eyes narrowing at the thought of missing out on eating at your favorite restaurant. 

the two of you hadn't been on a proper date in what felt like months, and rachel had made sure as soon as the fixtures for your final game of the season came out she had a table booked and your evening plans locked down.

though that's not to say the blonde wouldn't keep her word and make you miss out. both of you hot headed and quick to rise to a challenge, sometimes your arguments could last days without either of you willing to compromise, both just as stubborn as one another.

"no i'm promising." your girlfriend smirked, hands resting either side of your head as she slowly lent down, ghosting her lips over yours without any actual contact and pulling away with a teasing smile, wiggling her trophy mockingly in your face once again.

"fine." you muttered with a glare, quickly pecking the cool metal and trying to sit up but your girlfriend pushed you back, head thumping into your pillow. "no, a proper kiss." the girl smiled smugly, feeling your body let out a deep exhale of annoyance beneath her. 

"i am not snogging your trophy just to placate your inflamed fragile ego!" you warned seriously, eyes glaring daggers up at her, only spurring her on further. "well then you're also not getting your pizza baby." rachel shrugged simply, holding out the golden boot expectantly as you threw your head back and let out a loud frustrated groan.

"this is for you, my beloved bella italia." you looked up to the ceiling and spoke, dedicating your actions to your favorite italian restaurant, properly macking on with your girlfriends trophy for a few seconds.

"i hate you daly." you huffed, shoving her harshly off of you as she collapsed onto the bed, clutching at her chest to try and catch her breath, loud booming laughter echoing around the room. "i'm hiring someone to come and take that and throw it in the river when we're in portugal!" you warned bluntly, sitting up and glaring down at your still laughing girlfriend.

"she didn't mean it don't worry you're coming with us to portugal." rachel whispered reassuringly to the trophy in her hands, stretching over to place it down on her side table and grabbing at the back of your shorts as you rolled your eyes and tried to leave, pulling you back down onto the bed and trapping you in a tight hug.

"kiss me like i'm a golden boot." the blonde whispered seductively before her face broke into a grin and she pressed her lips to yours, cold hands wandering up your jersey as her tongue slid into your mouth, your hands pressing on the back of her head to deepen the kiss only spurring her on further.

"you're insufferable." you pulled away, gently biting down on her bottom lip as you did, the girl on top of you holding back a moan. "you're insufferable." she echoed back, a pause lingering between the two of you before your mouth curled into a smile and you pushed your head up to continue the kiss.

your golden boot winning girl, and you couldn't be prouder.

[charon-cries]

we're lucky Lestat de Lioncourt doesn't have tumblr, the drama he'd get into on here would be wild

#is this anything #he'd probably get cancelled instantly #also side note for future reference #i'm making this post before season 3 #so if anything in this is incompatible with amc canon #that's because i'm working off of seasons 1 + 2 and the books #okay ty have a nice day

32 notes

🎧 audiofilled Follow

ANOTHER of my mutuals went missing after buying a backstage pass to a vampire lestat concert. she didn't post pictures, nothing, and she's been radio silent since her last post (which was about how she was about to go backstage...) and i really think we should be taking this more seriously. so.

reasons why i think "lestat de lioncourt" may be running a cult or something:

Keep reading

🐺 the-vampire-lestat

Absolutely ridiculous. I am very open about what I am, you do not need to resort to senseless conspiracy theories to figure out where your little friend went.

🎧 audiofilled Follow

are you incapable of dropping the vampire bit for ONE moment? people are going MISSING and you're still doing your corny roleplay bit?

#discourse #TVL disappearances #callout

362 notes

📚 daniel-molloy

It's day number seventy-three of surviving this God forsaken website solely to keep tabs on Lestat's social media presence, and I'm still trying to decipher the lingo you people use here. What the Hell does, "I'm bald," even mean?

#the vampire lestat

137 notes

🪽 arun-rising

Did anyone else notice Lestat only posts during the night, in whichever timezone he's in while on tour? True commitment to the bit. Or the bite, I suppose.

🩸 carmillized

weren't you posting about how much you despise his music just yesterday???

🪽 arun-rising

I don't know what you're talking about. I never did that.

🩸 carmillized

You are correct. I believe you without question. I do not even know why I said that in the first place. I do not recall you posting about Lestat de Lioncourt before this.

#sorry OP i was out of line #now that i'm thinking about it though #this post is making me wonder if lestat could be a real vampire #i hadn't seriously considered it until this very moment #something came over me... #wonder why

40 notes

🐺 the-vampire-lestat

New song.

Listen, if you dare.

📷 disintegrated-wonder

Lestat, I thought we were over this...?

#louis talks

893 notes

🧷 baby-jenks

Wouldn't it be wild if we all just spontaneously combusted? Haha. Glad that will never happen

#fang gang #vampblr #random thought #it's unlikely

4 notes

👴🏻 marius-official Follow

How does this website work...?

🦇 fang-fan

delete your blog

#rank vibes on this man

1,425 notes

🐾 interview-wolf-the-werewolf Follow

Sponsored with Blaze 🔥

Check out my new book. It's a biography, about me, written by an award-winning journalist, chronicling my life as a werewolf. It's 100% factual and real, a real breath of fresh air in a world filled with fiction attempting to pass itself off as reality.

#iwtw #my posts #my book #me #werewolf #wolf #awoo #please i need to feed my litter of twelve #this book is all i have

5,762 notes

🩸 carmillized

hey all! i know that my mutual, audiofilled, is a little bit divisive in the music fandom rn, but i'm getting a little worried. i haven't heard from him since he made that post speculating about where TVL fans have been disappearing to. please send me an ask or a dm if you've heard from him!

#talk tag #getting a little worried #he's probably okay though

47 notes

🐺 the-vampire-lestat

Just had a lovely dinner. It's nice when your food is in tune with you, yes? Makes the blood sit well in the veins.

🦇 fang-fan

ur so funny

#edit: sorry for posting while audiofilled is missing #i didn't hear about it until just now

1,409 notes

🩸 carmillized

okay i just can't get over how he talks about himself. i don't know if it's just him being "in character" or if this is just how the guy acts irl, but he's so self-aggrandizing that i've been questioning it

no nuance/bald/other, you have to decide on the spot right now what you believe

📚 daniel-molloy

He's lying.

👩‍💻 talamascized-witch

I don't believe him for a second.

#archive #poll #lestat de lioncourt

[bella-rose29]

Anthony Lockwood x reader master list

Key:

❤️ - happy/fluff

💙 - sad/angst

💛 - platonic ship

💚 - gn!reader

💜 - author's favourite

Late Night, 2.8k words

lockwood x fem!reader Y/n just wants Anthony Lockwood to go to sleep for once; he's starting to look more like a raccoon than a human being. ❤️

Little Kipps miniseries, 5.4k words

part one, part two, part three lockwood x fem!kipps!reader Lockwood had no idea just how lovely somebody related to Quill Kipps could be. ❤️

Idiot, 9.4k words

lockwood x fem!reader (requested by anon): Y/n L/n and Anthony Lockwood were childhood best friends, up until the point she walked out on him after an argument. A few years later, and many cases of Y/n and her Fittes team saving Lockwood and co's asses, can they figure out their differences? ❤️

Puppy, 3.5k words

lockwood x fem!reader (requested by anon): Anthony Lockwood has a girlfriend, but nobody else knows that. Convenient for him when, on a night out after a difficult case, Kipps bets money that Lockwood can't get a kiss out of the pretty bartender who just so happens to be the aforementioned girlfriend. Unfortunately, Lockwood is quite drunk. ❤️💜

Relic (wo)man, 2.7k words

lockwood x fem!relic hunter!reader (requested by @superpositvecloudshipper): what about a relic hunter fem reader x Anthony lockwood where reader fights lockwood over an important relic in doing so he pulls off her hood revealing she's a girl which shocks him she runs off leaving relic with him, few days later she turns up at his door very much injured and he immediately helps her then asks why she came and she tells him she has nowhere else to go (all her family is dead expect her dad who is like the most dangerous relic hunter) ❤️

Hopeless Romantics, 1.7k words

lockwood x fem!reader Lockwood and the reader's relationship through various hopelessly romantic dates ❤️

You Shall Go to the Ball!, 9.8k words

lockwood x fem!reader (requested by anon): Hey, I don't know if you accept requests, but I have one. Reader(she is George's sister) accompanies Lockwood&co to the ball at Fittes and she is jealous when she sees Lockwood talking to the girl (maybe reader enemy or something)most of the time. She decides to interrupt the conversation and introduces herself as his wife, while showing the ring Lucy gave her, explaining what to do. A long chapter please😊 ❤️ and a tiny bit of 💙

Pretty, 3.4k words

lockwood x gn!reader (requested by anon): Saw your post about Lockwood ideas so here's one! Reader and Lockwood have an extremely close call on a case and in the heat of the moment, Lockwood ends up kissing the reader. ❤️💚

‘tis the damn season, 10.4k words

lockwood x fem!reader (requested by anon): can I request a Lockwood x fem reader based on tis the damn season by Taylor swift? Absolutely no happy ending to this one 💙💙💙 and a tiny bit of ❤️, 💜

Bite Me - Vampire au (ongoing series, will be updated when Deck the Halls is complete)

THIS IS GOING TO BE AN 18+ FIC Vampire!Lockwood x fem!vampire!reader link is for the series master list, but currently there is only the prologue up there &lt;3

Deck the Halls (and not your partner) series (completed), 54.3k words

lockwood x fem!reader When a phone call with Y/n's mother goes wrong, she ends up needing to bring someone home to pretend to be her boyfriend for three days in the English countryside. With only a short amount of time before she needs to leave, her only option is her boss Anthony Lockwood. The only problem is, she hates her boss. And he hates her. Christmas will be interesting this year, especially when a snowstorm hits and blocks all transport. ❤️ and a little bit of 💙 later on (but mostly just ❤️), 💜💜💜

Reverse damsel in distress situation (head canons)

prince!lockwood x fem!knight!reader ❤️ part 2 - gn!knight!reader ❤️💚

You can what?!, 2k words

lockwood x cousin!reader, locklyle (requested by anon): Hey! If you’re still taking requests, can I request platonic Lockwood x reader (cousin) who finds out reader can communicate with like, weaker ghosts 💛💚 

Happy New Year, 1.7k words

lockwood x fem!reader I just felt like writing this, but reader and lockwood and co spend New Years together (and a kiss) ❤️

beautiful people, 2.1k words

lockwood x gn!reader requested by anon: hi hi! Can I request Anthony Lockwood x reader fic inspired by the song beautiful people by ed Sheeran? ❤️💚

The Greatest Thing, 4.2k words

lockwood x fem!reader requested by anon: Hi, I love the way you write! I was wondering (if requests are still open) if you could write a Lockwood x reader where reader's mother died when she was little for some reason, and by taking on a case reader and Lockwood find themselves having to fight the ghost of reader's mother ? And maybe even Lockwood calming Reader down after the mission? Feel free to change parts. (btw: sorry if English is terrible, I'm Italian, English is not my native language) ❤️ and a little bit of 💙

paper rings, 10.2k words

lockwood x fem!reader based on the Taylor Swift song, featuring a lot of innuendos and mildly explicit content, but pretty much just pure fluff ❤️ and nothing else really, 💜

college au

domestic sweetness (mini series), (completed) 10.5k

lockwood x fem!reader requested by @oblivious-idiot: HI BELLE MY BELOVED you told me to make a formal request so!! can i request a lockwood x fem!reader - domestic sweetness, cooking for each other, lockwood giving reader his jumper, that kind of thing  feel free to go as wild and fluffy as you like hehe ❤️ 💜

[jerzwriter]

Thanks to @snoopdogcone for this prompt for @choicesprompts Flufftober event! (Blind date mistake)

Book: Open Heart (Book 2 Timeline) Pairing: Tobias Carrick x Casey MacTavish (F!MC) Rating: Teen Words: 1,741 Summary: Casey's cousin, Peter, is insistent. She has to meet his friend, Ian. Ian's new to Boston, and Peter knows they'll be a match! Casey would rather be on her couch after a long day at work, but a twist of fate has her glad she went after all.

A/N: This is a one-off and not part of my HC for the couple, though I kind of wish it was because it's really cute! :) Also participating in @choicesmonthlychallenge Laughter/Holding Hands.

It wasn’t Casey’s usual hangout. The ReelHouse was definitely more upscale than Donahue’s. But tonight, she looked every bit the part, even though she would rather be anywhere else. She fidgeted with the edge of her sweater, wondering how she had let herself get talked into this. After everything that happened with Ethan last year, she had sworn off men and women for good. Well, at least until her residency was over. But her cousin Peter had been relentless.

“You’re going to love Ian! Trust me, cuz. When have I ever hooked you up with anyone bad?” “Charlie Whitacker. College. Senior year. He began FLOSSING at the table mid-meal, Peter!” Peter’s laughter was so loud it felt like he was in the room, not on the phone, three states away. “Yeah, I forgot about that. For what it’s worth, I don’t see Ian doing that... he wasn’t one of my frat brothers.” Casey let out a sigh. “You’re not going to give up until I meet him, are you?” “Look, I’m doing you a favor. This way, when you come home for Thanksgiving, you can honestly tell Grandma you have been on a few dates. What’ll it hurt, Case? It’s a couple of drinks.” “Fine! Just tell me where and when.”

And that’s how she found herself sitting at the bar, glancing at the door, hoping this guy would be a no-show. Five minutes late, not terrible, she thought; she was already counting down the minutes. If he didn’t show in the next ten, she could be home on the couch, watching post-season baseball with zero awkward small talk.

The bar door swung open, letting in a gust of wind that couldn’t be ignored. Casey’s eyes flicked over to see if Ian had arrived, but it was Tobias Carrick, of all people. He strolled in like he owned the place, looking effortlessly put together in slim jeans, a crisp button-down, and a blazer that probably cost more than her entire wardrobe. But what struck her most was his trademark grin, half smirk, half pure mischief. It lit up his face as his eyes found hers.

 “Casey?” He looked genuinely surprised as he made his way over.. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey, Tobias,” she smiled politely. “I’m on a blind date.”

“A blind date?” He looked around. “With who?”

She shrugged, a little embarrassed. “Some guy named... Ian, I think? I’ve never met him. I’m just...waiting.”

Tobias’s expression shifted, eyes narrowing slightly, as an idea seemed to spark. Before Casey could react, he slid onto the stool next to hers, draping his arm casually over the back of her chair. “Tell you what, I'm going to help you out.”

Casey’s eyes narrowed, her lips turning into an amused smile. “Oh? And how exactly do you plan on helping me?”

Casey had to look away when he grinned her way. That mischievous glint in his eye was doing something to her that she wasn't ready to confess.

“I’ll pretend to be your date. We’ll sit here and have a drink or two. If this Ian guy shows up and he’s a total dud, I’ll get you out of here, and I’ll spare you a dreadful evening.”

You can’t just pretend to be my date, Tobias.”

“Why not?” His voice was smooth and playful. “I can be pretty convincing.”

Of that, she had no doubt. He was a known flirt, and she knew he could back that up. She always had a bit of a crush on him, though she never said that out loud. Still, she swore off dating for the next few years, and Tobias was just the kind of guy who could bring that hiatus to an end in five minutes flat. Her heart raced as she tried to hold on to her resolve. Was it possible to feel her willpower wavering?

"I think I’d be safer taking my chances with Ian,” she finally said, though her tone was less than convincing.

“Are you sure about that?” He asked, gaze steady on her.

“Fine,” she relented, crossing her arms. “But if Ian doesn’t show, I’m going home to watch the game. Got it?”

“The Yankees?” Tobias scoffed. “You’re a fan?”

“I’m a baseball fan,” she smiled. "And yes, I wish I was on a couch watching it right now."

“I’m a baseball fan, too,” he smiled, flagging down the bartender to order drinks. “And, believe it or not, I’ve got a couch. Let’s see where the night takes us."

The conversation flowed naturally—work, baseball, and Tobias cracking jokes that kept her laughing. She noticed, though, that her laugh made his eyes soften in a way that sent warmth to her chest. As the minutes ticked by, Casey found herself relaxing, the tension slipping away. She even stopped checking her phone. Tobias had always been dangerously charming, and the spark between them, the one she always tried to ignore, seemed undeniable tonight.

But just as they ordered another round of drinks, the door opened, and Casey’s stomach sank. A guy matching Ian’s description stepped in, awkwardly scanning the room.

“Shit,” Casey muttered under her breath, her smile faltering. “I think that’s him.”

Tobias glanced over his shoulder, then back at her with a grin. “He definitely looks like an Ian.” He leaned in closer, lowering his voice. “What’s the plan, Case?”

Before she could answer, Ian spotted her and started walking toward them. Tobias didn’t miss a beat. He slid his hand over hers, leaning in so that his lips were close to her ear. His voice dropped into a low, intimate tone. “Just follow my lead.”

Then he spoke louder, “Hey babe, you ready to head out? We can grab that sushi you love before we watch the end of the game.”

Casey blinked, barely keeping up. “Oh! Uh, yeah—”

Ian stopped in front of them, his face full of confusion. “Casey?”

Her heart pounded. “You’re late,” she said flatly, playing along.

Tobias stifled a laugh, offering Ian a friendly smile. “Oh, hey, man. I didn’t catch your name.”

“Oh, I’m Ian,” he replied. “I think... I’m supposed to be meeting Casey for a date?”

Tobias gave a small chuckle and looked at Casey, squeezing her hand. “Looks like there’s been a little mix-up, pal. I’m Tobias, Casey’s boyfriend.”

Casey’s eyes widened, but Tobias winked subtly, keeping his cool.

“Boyfriend?” Ian looked completely taken aback. “But Peter...”

“Peter,” Tobias sighed. “He never did like me. He doesn’t know yet,” Tobias continued. “We’ve been keeping it low-key for a while now, figured we’d tell the family when she takes me home for Thanksgiving.”

He stood and guided Casey up with him. “I’m really sorry about the confusion, though. You know how it is.”

Casey couldn’t believe what was happening. She smiled at Ian apologetically. “I’m so sorry. This is... really an awkward misunderstanding. But, uh, nice to almost meet you?”

Ian blinked, processing the situation. “Uh, yeah. Sure. I’ll… I’ll go call Peter.”

Tobias led them out the door, his hand resting on the small of her back as if it had been there dozens of times before. As soon as they stepped outside, Casey burst out laughing, stopping in her tracks to face him.

“Tobias Carrick!” She exclaimed. “Oh my god, what did you just do?”

“What?” He grinned, unbothered. “I just saved you from a shitty blind date. You’re welcome.”

He grinned, completely unbothered. “I just saved you from a boring blind date. You’re welcome.”

Casey shook her head, still laughing. “You may have ruined my chance with my future husband!”

Tobias leaned in, eyes twinkling. “Really? Did you want to marry him?”

She paused, her lips curving into a soft smile. “No, not really.”

“Good,” he said, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “Because I wasn’t about to let some guy named Ian steal you away. Not when I can have you all to myself for the night.”

She looked up at him, suddenly aware of how close they were standing. His hand was still resting on her back, and his eyes filled with a warmth that made her feel like she was the only person in the world.

“Well,” she swallowed, “I guess I can go watch the rest of the game.”

Tobias smiled, his voice dropping to a low, playful tone. “Mmm-hmm. On my couch, after we grab sushi. How’s that sound?”

She bit her lip. “Only if you can figure out a good way to tell my family I don’t actually have a boyfriend by Thanksgiving. Trust me, that little lie will spread like wildfire."

“By Thanksgiving?" He smiled, his voice dangerously low. "That’s five weeks away. By Thanksgiving, I’m hoping you will have a boyfriend.”

“Well, you better make a killer pumpkin pie,” she replied, with more confidence than she was feeling. “Because I’m not letting you tag along empty-handed.”

His grin widened. “I’ll bring the pie and your dad’s favorite scotch. Have to make a good impression."

She laughed, and before she could think twice, Tobias leaned in, pressing his lips to hers in a soft, deliberate kiss. When they pulled apart, Casey smiled up at him, warmth filling her chest.

“Is this a date, Dr. Carrick?”

He offered her his arm, and she slipped hers through with a smile. “You better believe it,” he said, his voice rich with promise. “And the next one won’t start like we're pretending.”

“You’re something else,” she smiled, leaning closer to him. She knew she’d have to fill Peter in later, but as they walked away, she couldn’t shake the feeling that, somehow, this had turned into the best blind date of her life.

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.