#i just feel lost when it comes to celebrations

[footygirl114]

Entrenadora (Alexia Putellas X Reader)

It has been absolutely forever since I have written anything, but this idea came to me and has been stuck ever since. I have more ideas for where this could go but would like to see if this idea is even interesting first. Please let me know what we think, as I fear I am washed up and my stories suck

Crouched down on the sideline, all you could do is watch as the #10 on your team cuts back across the top of the 18 shaking the defender and curls the ball into the top corner. You jumped up and could feel the bench behind you also jumping up and you watch on as the girls on the field surround the goal scorer as they celebrate. 

the feeling of your assistant coach slapping you on the back and say in“You were right the girls practicing the cutbacks paid off!” brings you back to the game at the moment. 

You smile and see the bench settle behind you and turn back to watch your team run back to get set for the kick off and you clap and yell out “come on girls, stay solid for 3 more mins, we got this!” 

The next few minutes pass by slowly, as you pace the sidelines occasionally yelling out instructions, but when the final whistle goes you can feel the relief settle in. You watch as the bench runs out on to the field and surround their goalie celebrating the semi final victory. You follow the team out and work your way through congratulating your players, but when your #10 who also happens to be your 10 year old niece wraps you in big hug you smile extra big. 

“That was a sweet goal Cami!” you tell her as she pulls back form you. 

“You taught me how to do that Tia!” she smiles up at you, and you cant help to pinch her cheek and she squeals and turns to celebrate with her teammates. 

You walk back towards the bench, after shaking the other teams coaches hands, and you start packing up your stuff and make sure the girls haven’t left anything lying about. You turn to get the girls to start cool downs, and you notice that your assistant coach has already got the team cooling down. 

Using the moment to stand there and think back on what you need to do for the afternoon prior to the final later in the evening. You fail to notice your brother come up behind you and squeeze your shoulders. 

You jump and turn to see him standing there and you whack him on the shoulder and say “you’re an ass.” 

He smirks and says “congrats on the win coach!” 

“Good thing you brought me in, you never would have got them to a final” you tease him with  smile. 

He chuckles and says “ouch, I wanted to coach but no parents were allowed.” 

“thank god you have such an awesome sister then” you smirk at him and move to gather your stuff as the team comes over to get their bags and move off the field. 

You cant help but smile at your big brother and your niece talking about the game as you follow them across the field. You follow them to your cars, and plans are made for the 3 hour window the team has before the final, to get the girls fed. You take a second to look at the schedule and see the other semi final is being played now and you decide to go and watch and scout the teams. 

You make your way towards the field the game is being played on and you find an empty spot towards a corner flag to stand in and watch. You are lost in the game that you don’t notice someone else coming to stand near you, and when you say something out loud about how stupid of a play that was you do not expect to hear a response. 

“si, I agree, would have been better to play the ball to the wing” the voice beside you says. 

You turn and see a stunning women, clad in Barcelona shorts and a half zip with a black ball cap on. It takes you a second but you finally respond with “or the ball should have been cycled back and not forced into a play.” 

“The centre back has a good range, she could have made a better attack” she says to you. 

The two of you go back and forth for the next few minutes before a goal is scored the way you both were just describing. You both laugh and you say to her “seems we both had a good grasp on the game.” 

“si, its refreshing to talk to someone who sees the game as a whole” she smiles at you. Before you can say anything else she asks “did you see that pass?”

“it was a waste of an opportunity” you reply back. It starts your conversation back up and you continue to discuss the tactics of the game in front of you. It lasts for the rest of the game, when your phone rings and its your brother calling and you turn to her and say “excuse me, I need to take this.” 

“I should go anyway, I enjoyed talking with you!” she says with a wink and she turns and moves away. 

You watch for a moment and walk the other way answering the phone to your brother, and you cant help but think that you would like to be able to talk to her again. When the time comes for your team to warm up, you completely forget about the conversation you had with the cute woman, and you focus fully on the game. 

When your team comes out the victors and after the celebrating dies down and you are standing in line waiting for the medal ceremony do you see her again. She is standing behind the convenor of the tournament with 2 other women dressed in the same outfit she’s wearing. You hear the convenor making a speech about the tournament and then introduces the 3 Barcelona Women players that are there to present the medals does it click who she is. 

You can feel the heat to your cheeks as you remember how you just spoke tactics with one of the best players in the world. You have to follow the team through the motions of getting the medals and you can barley look her in the eye as she places medal over your head. Luckily team pictures take priority and getting the team squared away takes up your team before you can continue to overthink it. 

When the madness dies down and a few people are left straggling around you find your self alone on the field. You are not alone for long when she steps up beside you and says “congratulations coach.”

You turn to her and say “Gracias, but my name is Y/N” as you turn to hold your hand out to her.

“Alexia” she says and shakes your hand with a smile. 

You try to ignore the tingling up your arm as she shakes it and you ask “Why didn’t you tell me who I was talking to earlier?”

She shrugged and says “does it matter? I enjoyed the tactics talk with someone who has the same view of the game as me.” 

“I mean I could have at least rolled out the red carpet, or maybe gone and watched some game play footage of how you move on the field” you chuckle back to her.

She smiles and says “Oh you would have watched me?” 

You shrug and say “for purely tactical reasons only.” 

She laughs out loud at that and says “can I take you for a drink to pick your brain about how my body moves?” 

“thats tempting for purely tactical reasons, but I promised my niece I would come celebrate the teams win with her tonight” You softly smile at her. 

She places her hand on your arm and smiles “you coach your nieces team here?” 

“si I do.” 

“thats very sweet of you” she squeezes your arm and continues “can we take a rain check?”

Nodding you move back a few steps to dig into your bag for your clipboard, and you write your number down and rip a piece off to hand to her and you say “call me for a rain check Alexia.” 

She smiles with a chuckle and says “I see what you did there, but I will be calling you for purely tactical reasons.” 

“I should go catch up with my niece.”

“you should” and she moves closer to you and press a kiss to your cheek and says “You’ll be hearing from me.” 

You watch as she jogs away to her other team mates and you move to meet your brother and niece in the parking lot. Your brother sees you coming and asks “what took you so long?” 

“Nothing, I was just taking it all in” you tell him with a smile. 

“mhm the blush on your cheek says otherwise baby sister.” he teases you and before you can swat at him he moves out of the way and says “now come on Cami is waiting for us.” 

***

The following morning as you are walking into your first class of the day you feel your watch buzz with a new message, you see it was an incoming message and you glance down quickly to notice it was an unknown number. Before you can read it you are at the door of your class room and you walk in and place your stuff down at the front podium. Looking up as you are connecting your laptop the lecture hall is about 3/4 full with 2 minutes to class to start. 

As your laptop boots up you can help but check your messages and you immediately can feel the smile and blush work the way up your cheeks. 

Unknown: Figured Id let you get a head start on the purely tactical reasons to watch me, and send you a link to the last goal I scored, I wont tell anyone if you watch it back a few times. But I would like to hear all about how my body moves from your perspective over dinner? 

Unknown: Also Hi, from the cute footballer you gave your number to, who would also like to be able to study how you move, again for purely tactical reasons ;)

[maxmaxsupersupermax]

Max doesn't see Charles until he's two beers and almost two gin and tonic's in. He's seen most other drivers, at least in passing and he'd asked (GP, because he understands Max is a little...insane about Charles) about him, but GP had been a bit cryptic and told him that Charles lost his mind a little on the radio.

Which had confused Max for a second. What happened? Max hadn't done anything, right?

He hadn't put up much of a fight, not like he normally would. He wasn't racing Charles today (soon, his mind supplies, soon). He just needed to be ahead of Lando, no risks.

He'd done that. He'd been good.

So what had Charles done?

'Charles!' It doesn't matter anyways. Charles looks up from the floor. He's got a guy in a Ferrari jacket with him that Max doesn't immediately recognize.

When Charles spots Max, he smiles. He hadn't been smiling before. 'Max, congratulations.'

A few of the guys are trying to guide Max to a car and Martijn is blowing up his phone, but Max pulls away and approaches him. The man in the Ferrari jacket looks unamused, but Max is the World Champion, what is he going to do?

'Thanks mate.' Max says.

To his surprise, Charles steps into his space and gives him a short, but firm hug. 'You absolutely deserve it. You have been outstanding this year.'

Max feels his cheeks flush. 'Thanks. Are you coming out?'

Charles makes a face and looks over his shoulder at the Ferrari employee. 'I have a very unpleasant debrief to go to.'

'After, then. Come join us. Let loose.' Max says, pleads. 'I'll text you the address.'

Another glance over his shoulder, but Charles smiles at him. 'If I'm allowed, I'll come.'

Max grins at him and, like an idiot, gives him a thumbs up. 'Awesome.'

Charles looks very amused by him, but his smile fades. 'Alright, bye now Max. Enjoy your celebrations.'

Charles' chin dips back down as he turns to leave. Max doesn't know what he's done, or what this is all about, but he knows Charles shouldn't look like that.

'Hey,' Max calls and Charles stops and looks at him. 'keep your chin up, yeah?'

Charles seems to straighten up almost on autopilot. He lifts his chin and then smiles gently.

'Thank you, Max.'

He's not sure what for but he'll take it. 'Yeah, of course. Hey and, whatever you've done, I'm sure I've done worse and look at me.' He grins, motioning at the World Champion hat he's got on.

Charles' eyes dart up to it and Max swears he can see a flash of steel, a sharp edge of determination in those green eyes.

But then the calls of his name get louder and his phone starts ringing, Martijn no doubt, and Charles is waving at him and walking away.

Max might be imagining it, but he swears Charles is standing taller now.

[f1amour]

heyyy! can i request “i’m scared of losing you” (from angst1) with oscar piastri?

❝ i’m scared of losing you ❞ — oscar piastri

pairing | oscar piastri x reader

content warnings | lots of miscommunication, angst, comfort, happy ending

★ JOIN MY SHORT N SWEET FRIENDSGIVING !

─────────────────────────

it had been a few months since you last attended a race due to your job obligations but in oscar’s eyes he only saw it as one thing; you’ve missed him winning a race, twice now.

in his eyes he thought you may no longer love him that he wasn’t worth enough for you. however, in your eyes you believed he no longer loved you especially due to his lack of presence in your life and never asking you to join him for a race weekend in months. both of you afraid to lose each other didn’t touch on the subject and living as if everything is okay.

until it wasn’t.

“i may not win another race this season but i would appreciate your support! you weren’t there for my two wins and i…i’m tired of this,” oscar argued back, you had both gone out to dinner in monaco after he returned from singapore. it started with a sweet conversation of what to do for the break to now bitter comments towards each other.

“tired of what? of me? i’m trying, oscar. i just started my third year of university and then work—.”

“work! it’s always work this work that. they always need you for something even though it’s not even in your title to do all that! you drop everything to be there for them but you can’t be there for me not even once…baby?” his mean words hit you immediately and you sit on the couch of your apartment hands covering your face as you sob uncontrollably.

“baby, yn…hey, hey breathe with me. it’s okay i’m here” oscar whispers on your ear, both arms cradling you now. was it okay? his approach may not have been the best but he wasn’t wrong. your job had been putting too much on your plate when you were meant to just be an underpaid intern who was doing multiple jobs that were not your responsibility.

“but you aren’t here, osc. i…i know that your career is demanding but you didn’t take a second to look back and realize i ease being left behind. i feel guilty i wasn’t there for your two wins especially your first. i begged my job to let me just visit you for a day to celebrate but they made me stay. it wasn’t even my day to work and i still stayed. i chose a job that doesn’t value me over you…you do care about me maybe not right now—.”

“i’m gonna stop you right there. i’m an idiot who didn’t bother asking how you’ve been recently and expecting you to support me more when i didn’t see what you’d been going through. i’m so sorry,” he whispers, his forehead pressed against yours kissing your tears away.

you whisper out five words you’d been feeling for awhile now, “i’m scared of losing you,” closing your eyes ready for oscar to say you’ve already lost him, “i’m scared too.” his voice matches your vulnerability.

opening your eyes looking at him in shock, “you are?” you felt like you were both taking a big step in admitting this. maybe, just maybe this would help in repairing your relationship.

“i am. i think we’ve been selfish towards each other but we also haven’t communicated right. i should have asked you more about how the job was treating you-,”

“i should have asked you how the team had been treating you.” you counter back and he chuckles.

“i know you want to be independent when it comes to your career. but i think you should quit that job and focus on school only. i know you don’t want me to take care of you financially but just let me do that for now until you graduate and find a job that will value the skills you have. i can’t lose us. i can’t lose you, yn. i love you.” his words filled with nothing but love, oscar meant well and for once you decide to take him up on the offer he’d been giving you since you started dating two years ago.

“okay.” a simple word replacing your frown into a smile on each others faces. there was work to do on your communication with each other but for now you both got to breathe a sigh of relief after facing a fear that would no longer happen.

[pbelfz]

Two to One | 15 |

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader x Midoriya Chapter Title: Spilled Milk Chapter 14 | Chapter 16 Story Masterlist Summary: You are a simple college girl working at a cheap, back alley café! The top heroes, Deku and Ground Zero, visit your work in hopes of ordering coffee, but they pick something else up instead. You begin an interesting relationship with the pair, while slowly becoming aware of certain underhanded tactics they are using. Idolization isn't always that bad… Right?

WARNINGS: gaslighting, domestic violence, alcohol

“You’re WHAT?!”

Hana gaped back at (Y/n), trying to ensure she heard her correctly. (Y/n) smiled sadly at Hana.

“I just… got an opportunity elsewhere…,” she attempted to be vague. Hana didn’t look convinced.

“Please don’t tell me you’re starting an Only Fans.”

(Y/n) gawked. “No–! And even if I was…,” she made a face at Hana. Hana tutted.

“Please don’t tell me you’re starting an Only Fans without me,” she repeated, now laughing. The morning rush shift had slowed down to a nonexistent teeter. (Y/n) smiled at Hana’s comment as she cleaned one of the tables in the dining area of the quaint restaurant. Hana groaned, leaning back with her elbows on the countertop, her head tilting toward the ceiling.

“What am I gonna do without you here?!” Hana groaned at her best friend. (Y/n) announced that she put her two weeks in yesterday when Hana was off. Their manager flipped her shit, but Hana argued that she had it coming and that (Y/n) quitting should be the least of her worries. (Y/n) shrugged.

“I dunno. I’ll still stop by for some lattes. Give you guys some business with my big Only Fans money.”

Hana shook her head. “I’m gonna put my two weeks in tomorrow. Or I might just dip after today and not come back.” Hana’s curls bounced as she turned to check to make sure their manager was in the café backroom. Deep in the café backroom.

“You should stay for the chance of running into Shoto,” (Y/n) recommended, leaning on her elbows on the cashier counter. Katsuki and Izuku had been frequenting their café much more often lately, and she and Hana kid that it was only a matter of time before word of Sato’s traveled to Pro Hero Shoto. However, Hana still shook her head.

“What do you mean? We’re married. I see him every night. Work is my chance to get away from him!” She gave (Y/n) a coy smile. (Y/n) rolled her eyes, grinning, smacking Hana’s arm with a small hand towel.

“Shut up!”

Izuku and Katsuki threw themselves headfirst into their work, and (Y/n) shouldn’t have been surprised. It’s not like she expected things to change after she finally had sex, but she couldn’t help but feel as though the experience wasn’t as life-changing as it was all made out to be.

What was that feeling? That persistent nudging tug in the depths of her mind and gut, telling her that something more should be happening now, either between her, Izuku, and Katsuki or in her life? Disappointment? She lost her virginity to one of the most famous pro heroes in Japan, and the experience wasn’t anything less than euphoric. What was there to be disappointed about?

Maybe how neither Izuku nor Katsuki recognized (Y/n)’s perceived loss of innocence. (Y/n) considered bitterly whether there was even any innocence to ‘lose’, and why would having sex make her any less innocent? Was she dirty now? No, no. That’s not it. (Y/n) didn’t expect the heroes to celebrate or anything of that nature. That’d be rather disturbing. What was she expecting, though? Nothing ultimately changed after the intercourse. Not herself, not really. Not Katsuki. Not Izuku. What the hell even was virginity?

Did she want them to change? What more did she want to come from that experience?

“Izuku?” She called, sitting on the couch one night. It was late; Izuku had just gotten home from a 16-hour shift. (Y/n) never really knew if he and Katsuki chose to work that long willingly – their hours seemed flexible – but she did notice that Katsuki seemed to know his limits and take scheduled breaks throughout the day. She couldn’t say the same about Izuku.

“Yeah?” Izuku replied half-heartedly. He obviously didn’t want to speak to anybody right now. He was digging through the fridge, looking for leftovers to wolf down. (Y/n) was convinced that Katsuki was the only reason why Izuku remembered to even eat and shower or even take care of himself at all. Katsuki’s footsteps could be heard upstairs; he must’ve just gotten out of the shower himself.

“What’s virginity?” (Y/n) blurted obtusely.

The shuffling of plastic containers and cartons in the fridge stopped. Izuku stood upright.

“What?”          

He sounded incredulous. (Y/n) didn’t want to look at him because she was so ashamed of her question.

“What’s virginity?” She repeated, a little louder and snappier, in case he didn’t hear her. Izuku looked at the back of her head with a wild stare.

“(Y/n), I’m not–,“ Izuku was not in the mood for whatever she was talking about.

“And what’s the point of it?” (Y/n) continued. Izuku dragged a hand down his face.

“I’m not sure what answer you’re looking for,” he was blunt, more blunt than he cared to be. He was exhausted. He just wanted to eat something, go to bed and turn the world off, not deal with whatever emotional turmoil (Y/n) was feeling.

“I just… don’t feel any different,” (Y/n) pondered aloud, not caring if Izuku wanted to talk or not.

She heard the fridge door shut and footsteps approach. “Uh, good?” Izuku spoke with a mouth full of chicken, which he didn’t even bother to heat up. “It’d be weird if you felt different after having sex?” Izuku stared down at her oddly. (Y/n) rolled her eyes.

“That’s not what I mean. I mean there’s, like…,” she made vague gestures with her hands. “It’s like nothing even happened.”

Izuku was tired, and when Izuku was tired, it was like talking to a brick wall. He was just as stubborn as Katsuki, if not more. This conversation was going nowhere. He swallowed the food he was chewing and shook his head, shrugging.

“I don’t know what to say.”

(Y/n) sighed, frustrated. She got off the couch and stormed up the stairs. “Ugh. Forget it.”

Izuku made his way over to claim the spot on the couch she left, continuing to eat his food.

Okay. (Y/n) can admit that she was being a little fussy. She blew by Katsuki, who was bent over in the middle of the hall replacing his bath items into the closet, and retreated into the bedroom.

Katsuki’s hair was still damp from his shower. He blinked, watching as she disappeared into the bedroom but left the door wide open. Katsuki stared at the door for a minute before inhaling slowly and letting out a sigh. He stood, closed the closet, and rubbed the back of his neck as he hesitantly followed after (Y/n).

He stood in the doorway with his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. (Y/n) was on the bed, scrolling on her phone, obviously upset. Katsuki was debating whether he should bite or turn and walk away. Whenever he or Izuku gets into a bad mood, they typically avoid each other lest it blow up in their faces. He didn’t know how this would turn out with (Y/n).

He’ll bite. (Y/n) was more sensitive than Deku. She needed different things than he did. Katsuki was still learning.

He shifted his weight, feeling stiff. “Something happen?”

“No,” came the sharp reply. Katsuki blinked, and his face soured. Katsuki hadn’t heard her use that tone with him before.

“What?” He snapped back.

(Y/n) didn’t look up at him, still scrolling on her phone. “I said, no, nothing happened.”

Katsuki stared at her. “Okay, but something obviously did? Your attitude is shit right now.”

(Y/n) shrugged and shook her head. “Your attitude is always shit. What, I’m not allowed to be upset about something?”

Katsuki threw his head back and closed his eyes. He took a breath. Calm down. “So, something did happen?”

(Y/n) groaned, rolling her eyes. “You guys just… practically ignore me!” She blurted. “You’re never here! I moved out of my apartment, I put my two weeks in at my job for you, and you guys don’t even seem grateful… My whole life is about to change…”

Katsuki’s eyes narrowed. “Us? Grateful? We are paying your tuitionfor your shitty education. We are giving you free housing in one of the safest neighborhoods in Japan. We are giving you complete access to your own bank account with millions of yen already in it with no strings attached. If there’s anyone that should be grateful, I’m looking right at her.”

(Y/n) was teary-eyed at Katsuki’s harsh words. She yelled at him, “What if I was fine before all of that?!”

“Then leave!”

Izuku came up the stairs. He had dark circles under his eyes, and despite the argument, he didn’t appear urgent. “What’s going–“

“Go back to your shitty life. I don’t care,” Katsuki turned and disengaged, going downstairs and leaving (Y/n) crying on the bed.

Izuku could barely stand on two legs from exhaustion, but he relented the fact that Katsuki could handle himself. If there was anyone that needed to be pacified, it was (Y/n). He had to figure out how to settle all of this before the clock struck 1 AM so they could all get to bed peacefully.

He stepped further into the bedroom, staring with dead eyes at (Y/n) as she cried on their bed. He had to push himself to keep walking forward and to sit on the bed next to her. He waited silently for her to stop crying enough to look up at him.

Eventually, her sobs simmered, and she just sniffled. She rubbed her eyes, finally meeting Izuku’s gaze. This was the first time tonight that she really could see the exhaustion on his face, and she felt guilty for making tonight about her.

“What’s going on?” Izuku asks. His voice is calm and quiet, but she hears that tinge of something else – pity.

“I, uh…,” (Y/n) starts, now unsure why she’s upset. “I guess I’m just stressed. And worried. And scared.”

Izuku looked concerned. “About?”

(Y/n) sighed, wiping her eye. “I don’t know,” she paused for a moment. “Katsuki’s right. I should be grateful for all you guys have done for me… I don’t know why I’m feeling like this.”

Izuku glanced off into the hallway, probably trying to determine where Katsuki was in the house. “Are you… not happy here with us?”

(Y/n) instantly shifted to face him fully on the bed. “No, no! That’s not it at all. I’m very happy… It’s just… different.”

He stared at her. “It doesn’t sound like you’re happy. Or look like it, either.”

(Y/n) looked at him oddly, making a point to prevent any more tears from falling. “I am. I am.”

Izuku continued watching her. (Y/n)’s phone vibrated in her hands, and she glanced at it before turning it back over.

“Did we do something to upset you?” Izuku asked. (Y/n) shook her head.

“No, you guys didn’t do anything…,” her voice trailed off.

“We obviously did. What is it?” He could be just as forthright as Katsuki. “We can’t help if we don’t know.” What little patience was left inside of Izuku this evening was nearly depleted. He was trying his hardest to remain present and serene. (Y/n) shook her head. Her phone vibrated again, and Izuku couldn’t help how his gaze flickered down at it.

(Y/n) sighed, realizing Izuku wasn’t really going to leave her alone until she spoke; however, there was an air of shame that surrounded her.

“I just… think I need more attention, maybe…,” she tried not to wince, but she wasn’t sure how well she covered up her embarrassment. “I don’t know. I know you guys have long hours…,” she trailed off once again.

Izuku nodded, “We do.”

“Um…,” she didn’t know what to say next. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for bringing it up. I think I’m just a little emotional after…,” she referred to their night together the other week. And, now that she’d thought about it, it wasn’t like they were completely ignoring her, either. They gave her affection as much as they could, kisses and whatnot. They’d all messed around a bit since that night, but they hadn’t gone ‘all the way’ again. Maybe with each other, but not with (Y/n). She didn’t feel ready to, and she knew that upset Izuku. He didn’t say it, but he always seemed a little disappointed when he saw the hesitance in (Y/n)’s eyes and how her touch was fleeting instead of carrying the same passion they started with. It especially disappointed him how she lingered heavier on Katsuki during their intimate moments, leaving Izuku to occasionally feel like the third wheel. He didn’t want to speculate on why this would be, so he never brought attention to it in hopes that he was imagining it.

“I’m sorry,” what exactly was she apologizing for? She felt like she needed to, though. Izuku looked like he was going to fall over from exhaustion, she’d made Katsuki mad, and here she was complaining when they had given her any girl’s dream life.

Izuku was too tired to address this any further. He glanced at the hallway again to see if Katsuki had returned. He hadn’t. He must’ve banished himself to sleep downstairs on the couch.

“Let’s just go to bed, yeah?” Izuku offered.

(Y/n) sighed but reluctantly nodded, feeling like a piece of her was unfulfilled.

Katsuki and Izuku made more of an effort to attend to (Y/n) after that night by spending more time with her when they were home. It made (Y/n) feel worse because she didn’t want them to think she wasn’t satisfied with all they had given her thus far – and now she could see how they were actively trying to keep her happy on top of all of that? Why couldn’t she just be appreciative to begin with? She tried not to let the guilt eat her alive, especially when she remembered that no other person, let alone two people at once, had ever treated her this preciously.

While the two pro heroes built their relationships individually with (Y/n), tensions rose between them, and it made (Y/n) uncomfortable. She didn’t know if this was how they always were or if something recently sparked this apparent rivalry between the two men. As she spent more time settling into the home and acclimating to her new environment, she couldn’t help but notice the sly remarks or side glances they gave each other – about literally anything. Most of their spats had to do with work. (Y/n) hardly knew what truly occurred in the hero world, so she would stay out of it.

Day by day, though, her guilt faded. She felt happier and able to truly enjoy her place in their home, no longer feeling like an outsider or a guest. She was learning both of them, slowly but surely. Katsuki required a lot of attention, but he’d never outright ask for it. He’d linger around (Y/n), not exactly engaging with her but doing mindless things around the house, and he’d get defensive if she pointed it out. She appreciated it when Katsuki was more honest about his desires, especially when he came home and the first thing he did was give her a kiss. Izuku was an insufferable romantic and very different than Katsuki in that regard. He was much more comfortable showing affection, and he always prioritized his partners’ comfort over his desires.

Izuku was much more cynical than his media personality makes him out to be. Sometimes, he said things that even made Katsuki go silent.

Katsuki was also a very clean person. (Y/n) feels like he might have an oral fixation, or maybe he just really, really enjoys watching her eat his cooking. She isn’t sure.

(Y/n) was getting ready for bed, just getting out of the shower, when she heard the whack of skin coming from the kitchen. She paused, listening, her mind trying to reassure her that it wasn’t what she thought it was. The front door opened and slammed shut – someone left the house, or someone just entered. Her heartbeat thrummed in her ears. She quickly tiptoed out of the bedroom, trying not to slip, as she still hadn’t dried off completely, peering down the stairs and into the kitchen.

She caught a glimpse of Izuku sitting at the island by himself. Whatever ruckus went down a few minutes prior no longer remained, and the house was silent. (Y/n) clutched the towel that draped around her, making sure it wasn’t going to fall, as she crept down the stairs.

Izuku glared at her as soon as she entered the kitchen, making her freeze by the door.

“What happened?” (Y/n) asked quietly. Izuku rolled his eyes, finally getting up from his barstool. He opened a kitchen drawer, the one where they kept random medicines, and rummaged through the back of it. He pulled out a cigarette and a lighter he’d stashed there.

(Y/n) watched him as he lit his smoke. She’d never seen him smoke in the house before. She got a glimpse of his face, then. His cheek was red and beginning to lightly bruise. (Y/n)’s eyes widened, and immediately, she flashed back to the events at Koburi Pass. She quickly approached Izuku, cupping his face to get a better look.

“Katsuki did that…?” Her emotions were conflicted. Izuku instantly yanked his face away from her before her fingers could even touch him. He took a drag of his cigarette. Tobacco smoke filled the kitchen, and (Y/n) grimaced. She just noticed now that she was shaking. Neither she nor Izuku said anything to each other for a while. They stood together in the kitchen silently, and (Y/n) watched as Izuku finished his cigarette. He rummaged through the medicine drawer once again, pulling out another cig.

“How many…?”

Izuku cut her off, seemingly already knowing what she was going to ask. “I keep them there. He hasn’t found them yet, or if he has, he hasn’t said anything.”

“Is he going to be upset that you’re smoking in the house?”

Izuku laughed bitterly, smoke blowing out with his exhale. He rolled his eyes again and shook his head.

Izuku practically refused to talk to (Y/n) about anything. The two of them just remained in each other’s presence. (Y/n) felt like he needed that more than to talk through whatever happened. He eventually went to bed, but (Y/n) stayed up. Katsuki hadn’t returned home yet, and (Y/n) had a few words to say to him.

It was around 2 AM when Katsuki returned home.

He closed the front door quietly – a complete difference from the slam hours ago. (Y/n) sat in the kitchen, pouring a glass of milk. She was nervous to see him, to get the truth of what happened. He was taking his time removing his shoes in the genkan, and it made every second feel like years. She forgot she even poured herself a glass of milk, as she stared at the entryway.

Katsuki appeared at the door of the kitchen, and his gaze immediately locked onto (Y/n). He looked a little distracted but otherwise fine. It wasn’t until he stepped further into the kitchen that she realized he was drunk.

He looked down at the untouched glass of milk in front of (Y/n).

“You spilled some,” he muttered. (Y/n) glanced down, noticing that she did indeed spill some milk on the counter when she was pouring it.

“I’ll get it,” she replied, looking back up at Katsuki. “Do you need water?”

Katsuki scoffed but smiled. “No.”

She thought she might as well confront him directly. Her resentment was teeming, “Why’d you hurt Izuku?”

The befuddled, faraway stare that Katsuki held hardened a little when she said that. He almost felt guilty. He swallowed, the alcohol loosening his lips more than he liked.

“He pissed me off,” he gave a slight shrug of the shoulder. Careless but honest.

Katsuki was always honest but never careless. (Y/n) decided then that she didn’t like this side of Katsuki. Her stomach felt tight.

“So, if I ever piss you off, you’ll do the same to me?” She snapped.

Katsuki shook his head, scowling at the ridiculousness of her question. He still stood in the doorway, almost caging her in, and (Y/n) noticed just how small she really was to them, to this big house. They stared at each other. Katsuki blinked then sighed, walking over to the fridge. (Y/n) was acutely aware of his movements, like she was locked in a room with a starving lion that circled her. The lion hadn’t pounced yet, but she could feel it in her bones that he was still eager to attack.

He shrugged, reaching for a beer from the bottom shelf – in the way back of the fridge.

“Guess not,” was his answer.

That wasn’t good enough for (Y/n), but she knew not to press the issue right now, not while he’s like this.

He popped open the beer bottle, threw away the cap, and plodded to the living room. She heard him collapse on the couch with a sigh.

(Y/n) stayed away from him for a while.

[love1mang0]

In Bloom (MV1)

warnings: this is kind of angst? this is one of my first times writing stuff like this.

inspired by the song In Bloom by Sofia Valdes

listen!!

There you were, in a club in the middle of the night after a race weekend, your friend Max Verstappen was celebrating yet another win. You were staring at your drink, debating whether to talk to him or not. You could never tell what happened in his mind. You´re not a mind reader after all. How are you supposed to know his thoughts? 

The air felt hot each time you were with him, but when he spoke it was like it got cold out of nowhere. you liked Max ever since you met you had this feeling that you would be so perfect together, you two used to go on car rides in the middle of the night while he was on break, you loved those, sometimes they were quiet but it was a comfortable silence.

You were so lost in thought you didn't hear Max approaching you “Hey y/n! I missed you, I'm glad you watched the race!” you thought it was weird that he was talking about missing you, you were happy of course but you were confused. “I was wondering if we could go outside for a bit?” you nodded “Yeah sure, is anything wrong?” “Nothing is wrong, I just want to talk to you in private is all,” he replied. You followed him outside, there were lots of flowers since there was a small garden outside of the club, you started to feel worried, you didn't know how he felt, you didn't know what he wanted from you, then he picked a flower and put it in your hair, you got caught up in the moment, making illusions in your head, and before you knew it he kissed your cheek. He then pulled away and said, “You´re beautiful, you know that?”

You thought maybe he said that because he might like you, but now weeks passed and he left you on read you wanted to lie and just pretend you were fine, but in truth, you knew he was drunk, you knew he would regret telling you that, you knew he wasn't going to stick around for a romance, you were just his friend, nothing more. You felt exactly how you felt when you caught feelings for him for the first time, it was like a cycle that you didn't want to repeat, and then it clicked, this happened before, those car rides, those messages that were flirty enough to keep you hooked, you didn't know if he was doing it on purpose, you don't know what he wants from you.

this has 426 words, I intend on posting every Monday something so if you have any suggestions it would be appreciated, I wrote this in a hurry so it's not that good, but I promise to take more time in writing these so what will be coming will be better.

Please leave suggestions of any kind

[starimusprime]

okayyyyy here me out on this one….

fancy dinner party disaster for bodyguard oplita au!

(it’s been established they do exist)

except,,, this dinner party does not go as planned

elita senses a change in atmosphere

believing a drink offered to her prime, she suggests he does not take it, as she slips away from the party to meet the butler whom offered the beverage

unfortunately, oppy ends up taking the drink due to peer pressure from the other guests and he wants to be a good prime and not disappoint anyone

queue him being drugged/spiked, and him being attacked by old followers of sentinel prime (the guards from the beginning)

he could either be attacked or, if u want a lil angst, he gets that nemesis prime treatment and lashes out, forcing elita (and possibly other Autobots) to take on a prime

either way, elita manages to escort him to safety and takes him to a medical bay

she laments on how she could’ve easily lost him again and she wasnt by his side when he needed her most :(((

(unfortunately I couldn’t include all my doodles bc the ask option has a limit of photos but I have a scene in which Elita returns to Optimus when he’s in a hazed state, but he acts all romantical towards her in a garden, she realizing that she does have romantic feelings for him, but refuses to make any moves on him bc he’s not in the right state of mind. in which he practically begs for her yada yada how much he’s been in love w her for so long yada yap. But idk about this “missing scene”,,, thats just me talkin)

I’ve sat on this for a few days now because I simply couldn’t form my feral thoughts on this into words

YES.

This is just…omg so good. I am taking it. I am pulling it out of your gorgeous art and tucking it into the fic like a cozy blanket.

Perhaps Optimus will hold a celebration at the Well of AllSparks to celebrate the completion of its reconstruction, and all Iaconians are welcome to come and go as they please. Some troublesome functionists slip some form of drug into OP’s energon before it reaches him. Elita can sense that something’s not quite right about the bots offering the drink, and Optimus recognizes them as the two Archive guards and is coerced into accepting the energon under the guise of it being a peace offering for being so cruel to him when he was cogless Orion.

Elita takes the energon from them and goes to find where it came from, but one of the guards had a backup, which was assumed to be for that guard. They give that one to Optimus and he appreciatively drinks all of it. Once the drug starts affecting his systems, leaving him dazed and confused (and wondering where his beautiful bodyguard went), the two Archive guards call out a phrase in support of Sentinel (some version of “all hail Sentinel Prime” or something) and launch their assassination attempt on Optimus, who is very nearly overpowered *but* is not seriously injured bc he can still put up a fight, though he does sustain minor damages from the attack by the time Elita comes flying in to incapacitate the Archive guards.

Elita promptly takes Optimus back to Iacon Tower and into the medical bay with the help of a couple other bots. He’s put under for the minor repairs and to flush the drug out of his fuel lines, and Elita watches, brooding and holding back optic coolant the entire time.

The missing scene is absolutely being swept into a later chapter, too :)

[ivystoryweaver]

It's Everything - Jake Lockley

Jake + First Date + Haunted Corn Maze

Fall Fluff Masterlist | Jake Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Word Count: 684 || for @blablabiblejesusmagic and @howellatme

Jake Lockley's been driving the van for the retirement home you work at for the last few months

He's so mysterious and dashing, always sporting a leather jacket, black dress shoes and trousers, a flat cap

and the most interesting sexy facial hair. He changes it up - sometimes it's a beard or a mustache or realllllly hot stubble

The little old ladies adore him. He helps them in and out of the van with a kiss on the hand.

The men love to tell him long stories. He listens to them like they are the most interesting people in the world

So there are many reasons you became slightly smitten

You accompany the senior adults on many outings like the movies or to a concert. Today is a fall festival.

Jake's only job is to drive the van there and back, but he ends up walking around with everyone, helping out, while the seniors shop for antiques and crafts, eat a snack and listen to live music.

That's when the two of you notice the corn maze. Definitely not an activity for the seniors but Jake nods toward it.

"Do you own boots?"

You lift your booted foot, turning it this way and that.

"You're not scared of a little mud, are you?"

"Jake, we cannot take them in there, you know that."

"Maybe we could come back another time. Like tomorrow night?" His dark eyebrows arch curiously.

You point to yourself, mouthing, "Me?"

"Yeah, you." He winks.

So that's how you end up on a date with Jake, at a corn maze.

"I didn't think people liked to do corn mazes at night."

"They do if it's a haunted corn maze."

At the maze entrance, there's a creepy looking clown selling a variety of glow-in-the-dark items to illuminate the maze and make it more fun.

Jake buys you a glowing headband and multicolored flashlight. You feel like a kid again.

"How do I look?" You twirl around once after fixing your headband in place.

"Glowing."

The two of you enter the maze, brandishing your neon gadgets to ward off anything too spooky.

"No one's gonna jump out and grab me, are they?" You whisper, huddling next to him.

"Not if they wanna keep their arms," he quite seriously assures you, taking the opportunity to pull you close.

After enduring more than enough jump scares, you realize you might actually be lost.

"Please tell me you know the way out of here. I haven't been paying attention," you confess, shining your light this way and that.

Jake has finally released his hold on you as the two of you try one path after another.

For some reason you get the giggles and start laughing every time you hit a dead end.

"If we get stuck in here, I'm going to blind you with this flashlight," you warn, brandishing it like a weapon.

"Good luck with that," he cockily teases, holding up his own flashlight and making a whooshing lightsaber-type sound.

This leads to a quick duel, and you're thrilled to learn that the suave, sexy Jake is actually as big of a nerd as you are, at least in some respects.

"Come on, I think we're close to the entrance," he encourages, boldly taking your hand to lead you along.

"There's no way you know where we are," you tease. "You just want to hold my hand."

"Accurate." He grins. "Well, this anyway." He brings your fingers to his lips and steals a kiss.

You turn another corner and realize you're at the exit.

"Jake, we did it!" You cheer, throwing your arms around him in celebration.

It feels good to hug him. To hold his hand. To be close. To have his undivided attention.

"I thought you were just nice to everyone," you admit as you stroll along near the food trucks. "I didn't think you liked me as much as..."

You trail off, realizing what you just blurted out.

"I knew it." He winks. "It's the mustache, right?"

You breathlessly laugh, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "It's everything."

Fall Fluff Masterlist || Jake Masterlist || Main Masterlist

[biancadoes1]

First of all: happy birthday! Wishing you lots of happiness and many more years of life! 🥳

So I have a group of friends that I care about a lot. We met because of our love for Bridgerton. Like many of us, they ended up boarding the "Lukola" ship. I’ve grown closer to them over the past few months, but I feel like they’re starting to act strangely regarding Nicola, especially after the addition of A and JD to the story.

They’ve been judging Nic and Luke’s posts as if they know details no one else does. They’re judging Nic as if she were Judas and had done terrible things. They accuse her of only caring about self-promotion, sidelining Luke, and being the one to blame for the nasty comments people direct at Luke. They’re saying Nic does everything deliberately and knows she’s harming Luke on purpose. They even claim Netflix and Shonda only care about Nic and forget that Luke exists.

I’ve tried to bring some sense to the conversation by saying that social media represents only 10% or less of a celebrity’s life and that we can’t judge things as if we actually know them or live with them. But I feel like they withdraw when I make comments like that. I believe they just want an echo chamber for their thoughts.

I’ve been thinking about distancing myself, but these girls were a great support for me when I lost a close relative. I feel ungrateful for even considering stepping away. At the same time, I’m bothered by the way they talk about Nicola. We’re all women and we know the pressure of being a woman, especially in the world of fame.

No offense, anon, but your friends sound like they need help. Do they all know how to tie their own shoes? It sounds like they haven’t learned a lot in life.

Anyone attempting to claim that Nicola or Luke are attempting to hurt each other over social media with their behaviors is a tried and true idiot.

Get new a new group. If you’re bothered by this and have a hard time seeing past it, it’s definitely time to find different people to talk with.

I understand feeling some obligation to stay for fear of seeming ungrateful but you also have to take care of yourself and in a situation involving a group chat with people with the same interest, you should always come first.

Protect your own peace. There’s nothing selfish about doing that. There are plenty of other people in the fandom who think like you do and are willing to have discussions. You just have to find them.

[fanfenomenon]

i just know haytham would be the type to keep a locket with a picture of shay on it

in an AU where haytham took a young connor under his wing, I could imagine that he would give his son the most elite education in languages, literature, arts, and philosophy. one of them being drawing classes. 

when connor grew up, his skills in the arts further improved. being older now, he would notice how his father had grown rather fond of his associate, shay. connor didn't mind it though, he even thought this would be a good thing for haytham. after all, his father has been through so much pain. and with the death of his mother and the only woman haytham ever felt deep affection for, died any hope within the older man to find another lover.

even so, he thought his father deserved a second chance at love. thus begins connor's multiple attempts to win shay's heart on behalf of his father.

his father's birthday was coming up, and he wanted to give him a gift. shay was away on a mission for a few months, leaving him and his father stuck with each other’s company. haytham became more uncharacteristically irritable as the days went by, though connor understood it. communication was scarce, and due to the nature of their work, there will always be the possibility that shay wouldn’t be able to return.

it was unlikely for shay to be able to return on his father’s birthday, and both connor and haytham knew that. every year, the other templars would hold a celebration for the grandmaster, which undoubtedly would be the same this year, but what makes it so different is the absence of his father’s source of affection. well, connor would also be in attendance, as he always was years before, and haytham certainly wouldn’t be displeased with that. the older man missed the first few years of his son’s life and always wished to make up for lost time by celebrating milestones and happy moments with his only child.

still, connor couldn’t ignore his father’s forlornness, and he wanted to cheer him up in a way, but… how?

one night, a few days before haytham’s birthday, connor decided to visit his father’s quarters. he knew he had been feeling a bit lonely recently and thought perhaps he needed some company. after knocking a few times, he opened the door and found the older man fast asleep. walking closer to the bed, he found a letter on the floor. the younger man picked it up and saw the familiar penmanship of none other than shay cormac. he quickly took his eyes off the letter and placed it on the bedside table. he didn’t need to read their correspondence; he was taught to respect the privacy of others after all, and… he really didn’t want to know that much about his father’s love life.

connor looked back at haytham, feeling relief at how peacefully he was asleep. he was worried his father was having trouble sleeping and taking care of himself in the absence of one of his most special members of the order. the mohawk smiled as he glanced at the letter on the bedside table. he really missed his associate…

…and that was all he needed to know to decide what he was going to give to his father as a birthday present.

haytham was having his usual afternoon tea in his garden. he had been trying to distract himself from thinking about the irishman. it only hurts him to know that he’s so far away, that sometimes he even regrets sending him on that mission. but, they both know that they have a responsibility to the order and the safety of humankind itself. he was about to take another sip of his tea when the loud yet familiar footsteps of his son came crashing in.

“what is it now, boy?”

“happy birthday, father.”

oh, was it already his birthday?

he’d been so preoccupied with work that he’d forgotten what most people deem as the most special day of one’s life. he looked at the small locket his son held in his hand and gently took and inspected it a little more carefully. his eyes widened at the portrait of the person within the gold-plated pendant.

“this is… shay…”

connor smiled at how his father’s eyes seemed to sparkle in an instant. 

haytham examined the locket even more closely. the brushstrokes and the colors, he felt like he’d seen a great many artworks that had the same motifs before.

“did… did you make this?”

connor was grinning at this point, delighted to see his father’s surprised expression. before he could nod and comment on his father’s uncharacteristic show of mere shock, he suddenly felt a pair of arms wrap around him.

“thank you, son.”

connor stood still, startled at the unexpected physical contact. it was rare for his father to show some vulnerability, though he would always be glad to see his father open up to others more. he hugged the older man back, squeezing tightly and patting his back. as haytham pulled away, the brit couldn’t seem to hide his smile. he looked at the locket again, sliding his thumb over shay’s portrait. he glanced back at connor and asked,

“but, why…?”

“why not?”

haytham sighed, and connor could sense that the other man wasn’t satisfied with his answer.

“well, i’ve noticed that you’ve grown rather… fond… of master cormac.”

haytham slightly blushed at that, looking away from his son in embarrassment. he heard his son snicker and glared back at him. connor wasn’t intimidated at all, however. he stood still, grinning and beaming at his father.

“i’d rather you not mention that ever again.”

connor chuckled at that, placing his hands behind his back, he stood straight and excused himself. 

“as you wish, sir.”

he sarcastically replied, turning his heel to leave the gardens. once he was face to face with the estate’s double doors, he glanced back at his father sitting on one of the benches. there was a gentle smile on haytham’s face, looking peaceful as he was when connor saw him fast asleep in his quarters a few nights ago. he was still holding the locket, gazing at it in pure adoration.

connor smiled and went back to his quarters, thinking perhaps he should also paint a portrait of his father for shay when he returns.

[sequinsmile-x]

Thankful

Aaron invites Emily to Thanksgiving, and things change between them forever.

-x-

Hi besties <3

This years Thanksgiving fic is a little earlier this year because Thanksgiving is the SGW anniversary so I am posting chapter 80 on Thursday to mark it!!

Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate, and if you're about to have a really hard couple of days with family I am holding more space for you than queer Twitter is for the lyrics of defying gravity.

Here's a little getting together fic for you all, and as always let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: None

Words: 3.6k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Aaron groans and drops his pen to his desk, his fingers pressed into his temples as he looks back and forth between his completed pile of paperwork and what he has left to do. He shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the headache he can feel building behind his eyes, and he blows out a breath. 

“Coffee,” he mumbles to himself as he stands up and grabs his mug. He smiles and nods at Derek as he steps out of his office, and he walks past Emily and JJ’s empty desks. He spots them standing in the kitchenette, both of their backs turned to him, and he’s about to call out and make them aware he’s there, but he comes to a stop when he hears their conversation. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to come to ours for Thanksgiving? Henry would love it, and Will makes enough food to feed the whole street anyway.” 

Emily shakes her head, “It’s okay, I promise,” she replies, “I’m going to my mother’s. Part of my attempt to make good with her again after the whole faking my death thing.”

Aaron doesn’t have to see her face to know it’s a lie. Her relationship with her mother was still tense, at best, and he knew they barely spoke to each other. He’d offered to be a buffer of some sort, to go with her to see her mother - something he saw as his responsibility since her fake death had been his decision - but she’d turned him down. Her smile soft and appreciative as she told him she wouldn’t want to put him through that, her hand on his arm as he sucked in a breath and pretended that a simple touch from her combined with the smell of her perfume didn’t have him under her spell. 

He couldn’t remember when he fell in love with her. It had snuck up on him, his feelings for her shifting from mistrust to friendship to more so slowly that it felt as natural to him as breathing. His love for her so much a part of him he didn’t know what he’d be without it anymore. He couldn’t remember when he fell in love with her, but he remembered when he realised. A familiar pit in his stomach as he stood over her grave that he’d felt at Haley’s funeral, the same suit heavy on his shoulders as he threw a rose on top of her empty coffin - the only flower he’d ever given her. 

He told himself when she was in Paris that he’d do whatever was necessary to bring her home, that one day he’d get a chance to tell her that he loved her. Or at the very least, ask her out on a date. The reality of her return was different. She was a shell of herself, lost in the ruins of who she had once been - a feeling he was all too familiar with - and he knew there was very little she could take on top of the day-to-day of figuring out who she was now. He did his best to be there for her in the way that she’d let him, his support silent at first. Eventually, he knew he had to say something, worried that he’d lose her entirely if he didn’t, and they came to their agreement that she’d tell him when she had a bad day. 

It had restarted whatever closeness they’d had before Doyle. She would spend evenings and her Saturdays with him and Jack. She’d sit on the sidelines of the little boy’s soccer games and cheer for him, her smile as close to hers as Aaron had seen it since just before everything went to hell. Any thought or attempt at telling her how he felt about her had taken a backseat, and he knew that he’d simply be her friend forever if that’s what she needed from him. 

He clears his throat, feeling bad for eavesdropping, and they both turn to look at him, Emily’s smile slightly mischievous, “Sorry, Hotch.” 

He suppresses a smile and reaches behind her to grab the coffee pot, “That’s okay, Prentiss.” 

Outside of work, they only ever called each other by their first name, but they made a point of using surnames at work. They’d exchange a smirk as they did so and it had become a joke of sorts between them. 

JJ scoffs and rolls her eyes at them, “Everyone knows you’re friends, you know,” she says, smiling before she turns to leave, throwing another comment over her shoulder as she walks away, “It’s okay if you guys call each other by your first names in front of the rest of us from time to time.” 

Emily chuckles and shakes her head at JJ as she walks away, “We’ve been rumbled.” 

He hums as he puts the coffee pot back down, “Speaking of being rumbled…” he starts, and she raises her eyebrow at him in response, “You’re spending Thanksgiving at your mother’s?” 

She scrunches her nose up at him, “You heard that?” 

“I did,” he says, hiding his smile behind his mug, “You didn’t want to go to JJ’s?” 

She blows out a breath and looks around, making sure they are still alone, and she shrugs as she looks back at him, “This might sound awful, but I’m not sure I want to spend the day with them being an adorable happy family.”

“That doesn’t sound awful,” he assures her, “Sometimes the holidays just remind us…” 

“Of what we don’t have,” she finishes for him before she sighs and smiles sadly “So I will be perfectly happy eating an entire pan of homemade mac and cheese to myself and hanging out with Sergio.” 

Later, he’d wonder why he says what he says next. He isn’t sure if it’s the sadness she’s trying to hide from him, his love for her, or the thought of her spending a holiday alone, or even a combination of all three, but he finds himself talking before he really thinks about it.

“You could come over and spend the day with us if you’d like.” 

She shakes her head, already ready to argue with him, “Oh, I couldn’t intrude.” 

“It’s not intruding if I invite you,” he says, “Plus, I can promise no happy families. It’s me, Jack, Jess and her and Haley’s dad Roy who does not like me,” he smiles in a way he usually wouldn’t in the office, drawn in by her and the surprised laugh she breathes out, “So if anything, you’d be doing me a favour.”

She presses her lips together and looks at him curiously, and for a moment he’s sure she’s going to turn him down, but instead, she nods, her lips pressed together as she clears her throat, “Okay. That…that sounds nice. I’ll be here.” 

“Good,” he says, trying to tamper down his excitement, “Jack will be so excited - we all know you’re his favourite person.” 

She smiles, “Need me to bring anything?” 

“Maybe that homemade mac and cheese you were talking about?” 

She nods, “Okay,” she smiles at him, her lips pressed together as if she is holding something back, and then she clears her throat again, “I should go do some work.”

He nods, “I hear your boss is a bit of a tyrant.” 

She chuckles and shrugs, throwing him a wink before she walks away, “He’s not all bad.” 

___

She almost turns around and goes home. 

She finds herself standing on his doorstep, a casserole dish full of Mac and Cheese balancing on one of her hands and a bottle of wine tucked up under her arm, wondering why she’d agreed to this. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to spend the day with Aaron and Jack, it was her favourite thing to do, but spending Thanksgiving with them, a day for families and spending time with those you love, was enough to make her ache. 

She loved them in a way she wasn’t sure she had a right to. 

She’d loved Jack the moment she met him. He was adorable and cranky in Haley’s arms as she walked into the office looking for Aaron, his cries at least in part coming from him picking up on his mother’s bad mood. Emily offered to take Jack for a few minutes when Haley tried to pretend she wasn’t furious as she looked up at Aaron’s office, and she’d been slightly surprised when she took her up on it. She’d sat at her desk for a few minutes with Jack in her lap and it was enough time for her to be completely charmed by him. Her love for him had grown with her relationship with him, and he was without a doubt one of the most important people in her life. Happiness and joy all rolled up into the smile of a 6-year-old boy who had already survived so much more than he should have. 

Her love for Aaron was different. It had come out of nowhere, hit her like a truck as she stepped into his apartment and found him missing and his blood on the carpet. It was something she’d shoved down, something she’d pretended wasn’t there, and she’d been there for him as his world fell apart around him. There were times when she thought he might feel the same way too, fleeting moments when their eyes would meet and maybe felt as close to definitely as it ever had. Then Doyle happened. Tearing her sense of self apart for a second time, and she was glad there was nothing more between her and Aaron that would have put him in danger. 

Since she came home they’d become closer again, any initial awkwardness gone as quickly as it had appeared, and sometimes she’d find him looking at him like he used to again. She wanted more with him, with him and Jack - to be part of an actual family for the first time in her life - but she wasn’t sure she was enough for them anymore. 

She wasn’t sure if she’d ever get back to the Emily that Aaron may have once loved. 

She’s drawn out of herself when the door to the apartment is torn open, and she looks up to meet Aaron’s eyes. A smile on his face that only seemed to exist in the confines of his home, a soft side of him that belongs to his son that he would let her see too. 

“Hi,” he says, taking the casserole dish from her, “Happy Thanksgiving.”

She chuckles, “Happy Thanksgiving,” she tilts her head at him curiously, “How did you know I was out here? I didn’t knock.” 

He steps back to let her into the apartment, “I saw you standing out here. I knew if I let you think about it any longer you’d leave.” 

She presses her lips together and nods, “Sometimes I worry you know me a little too well.” 

He laughs and puts the mac and cheese down on the kitchen counter, “I don’t think that’s possible,” he smiles over at Jessica who is standing in the kitchen and cooking, “Jess, you remember Emily.” 

Jessica nods, “Happy Thanksgiving, Emily.” 

“Happy Thanksgiving,” she says, “Everything smells amazing.” 

Jack interrupts them before they can say anything else. He runs down the hall from his bedroom, throwing himself into Emily’s arms, “Emmy!”

“Hi Jack,” she says, hugging him close as she kisses his forehead before she pulls back, “Happy Thanksgiving.”

“You too,” he smiles, “I was just showing Grandpa the train set you got me for my birthday.” 

Emily looks up and smiles at a man she’d only seen briefly once before at his daughter’s funeral. She didn’t have to be good at what she did to see the way Roy looks at her, followed by the way he looks at Aaron. Distrust and a hint of anger in his eyes that feels misplaced. It makes her shackles rise, her grip on Jack in her arms tightening as she slips on a mask she’d had for as long as she could remember. One that had grown with her since she was the same age as the little boy in her arms. 

She paints on a smile and adjusts her hold on Jack, holding one hand out to Roy for him to shake, “Nice to meet you, Mr Brooks.” 

He hums and looks down at her hand before he steps past her to get a drink from the kitchen, “You’re Aaron’s friend.” 

She narrows her eyes as he turns his back and then she catches Aaron’s gaze, sees the I told you he hates me shining in his eyes, and she clears her throat, ready to protect the man she loves from anything, even his ex-father-in-law. 

“Yes,” she says, her smile as polite as it could be, “I am.”

___

Dinner is hard work. 

She has to stop herself from interjecting each time Roy says something passive-aggressive, or occasionally downright aggressive, to Aaron. The only things that stop her are the fact that Jack is in the room and that she’s sure Aaron wouldn’t appreciate her inserting herself into complicated family affairs. 

By the time Jessica and Roy leave, she can’t help but wonder how such a horrid man had raised two such wonderful women. It feels unkind, especially when she acknowledges what he has lost, but it sticks in her mind. How he’s so obviously lost in his own grief that he’s taking it out on those around him, specifically Aaron, without acknowledging what he’d lost too. Or that he was the father of his grandson, the absolute hero of his grandson, and that if he carried on down the path he was taking Jack would only grow to resent him for treating his father that way as he gets older. 

She blows out a breath and sinks further into Aaron’s couch, glass of wine in hand, and she smiles at the sound of chattering coming from Jack’s bedroom down the hall. She closes her eyes and imagines a world where this was her life. Where she sat here every evening listening to her Hotchner boys talk to each other, or snuggled between them on the couch every night. 

She opens her eyes when she hears the bedroom door opening and she smiles at Aaron as he walks towards her, “He okay?” 

Aaron nods as he sits down, “He’s okay. Holidays are hard - he misses Haley.” 

“You both do,” she says, smiling softly at him.“It’s okay to miss her even though you weren't together anymore when she died. You’ve known her most of your life,” she reaches out for him, her hand on his arm before she can think about it, “It’s okay to miss her.”

He nods, blowing out a slow breath, chuckling humourlessly as he reaches for his glass of wine on the coffee table, grateful when her hand doesn’t slip away from his arm, her palm warm against his skin “And you say I know you too well.” 

She hums, “I don’t think that’s possible,” she smiles when he does at her repetition of his words earlier that day, “Can I ask you something?” 

“Always.” 

There’s something so honest about the way he says it that it surprises her for a moment, stealing the breath from her lungs as she smiles at him, “Has Roy always been like that with you?” 

“Standoffish?” 

“I was going to go for rude,” she mutters, “But yeah. Has he always been like that?” 

He sighs and sinks back against the couch, a lifetime of memories hitting him all at once as he thinks about the man who had never quite liked him, but never used to hate him like he did now. 

“He was never really a fan of mine,” he answers, turning his head to look at her, “But Haley loved me and he loved her so he…put up with me. Then when we got divorced he stopped pretending.” 

She clenches her jaw, desperate to keep her words back long enough so she can make sure they’re measured. She was used to controlling her feelings for him around him but this felt different, the need to protect him so strong she felt it thumping alongside her heart in his chest. 

“Still, you’re Jack’s dad, and his only parent,” she has a sip of wine, “He should show you the respect you deserve.” 

“To him, this is the respect I deserve. After all, I’m the reason his daughter is dead.” 

He only realises he’s said it outloud when she gasps, an intake of breath that she can’t stop as her eyes go wide. He knows he wouldn’t say it in front of anyone else but she had this way of flaying him open, of tearing him apart at the seams where he’d sewn himself back together, and he could never quite figure out if he liked it or not. 

Being entirely known by someone was a privilege, but it was a vulnerability too, and it had been so long since he’d let someone get this close to him. 

“Aaron…” she chokes out, leaning forward to place her glass of wine down on the table, “You…you don’t believe that do you?” 

“I…” he trails off, placing his glass of wine next to hers before he turns, his knee knocking against hers the first indication he gets of how close she is to him now, “Sometimes.” 

She isn’t sure if she wants to yell at him or hug him. Or both. Fierce protectiveness of him rolling through her again, even though it was him that she wanted to protect him from. She reaches out for him, and she hesitates for a second, her hand frozen in the air, before she cups his cheek and makes him look at her. 

“It isn’t your fault,” she says, her eyes searching his, “The man whose fault it is died. He’s dead. You…you’re the reason your son is alive, and thriving and the happiest kid I’ve ever met.” She says, and he chuckles, the sound thick as it catches in his chest, “And you always joke I’m his favourite person but it’s you, Aaron. You’re his favourite person. He loves you so much.” 

“I know,” he chokes out, leaning into the warmth of her palm against his cheek, trying to commit it all to memory for when it would come to an end, “Usually I can rationalise it. I know it’s not my fault. But...It’s just hard to remember sometimes.” 

“I know,” she replies, smiling sadly when their eyes meet, “Better than most.” 

They sit like that, in their half embrace with her hand against his cheek, staring at each other, and for a moment she thinks about leaning in, about pressing her lips against his and kissing him, but she stops herself. Her bravery snuffed out as quickly as it had ignited, not entirely sure she could take the leap unless she knew he wanted to jump with her too. 

She pulls back abruptly, leaving his cheek cold as her hand slips to her lap and she clears her throat. “I should get going. Thanks for having me.” 

Aaron frowns and stands up at the same time she does, “Em-”

“Sergio will be waiting for me,” she says, cutting him off as she walks towards the front door, “He is grumpy when I don’t-”

“Emily,” he says, firmer this time, stopping her from getting any further away by standing in front of her, “What’s wrong?” 

She shakes her head, “If I have to say it, I’ve misread a lot over the years and I am really bad at my job.” 

He sucks in a breath, and he knows it’s now or never, that if he lets her leave it would be over before it could even start. They were at a crossroads, two paths laid out in front of them, and he knew there was only one that he wanted to walk.

And it was the one where she’d be right by his side. 

He steps forward, making it so there’s no space between them, and he tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear. He sucks in a breath at the same time she does, and their eyes meet for a second before he leans in, her lips soft against his. It’s everything and more than they’d both imagined over the years, a moment in time and one that would last forever, drawing out around them like the finest of thread as they moved forward together. Everything they could, and would have, leading back to this one kiss. 

When she pulls back she rests her forehead against his, her lips pressed together before she licks them, chasing the taste of him on her skin, “So,” she says, chuckling breathlessly, “I wasn’t misreading anything.”

He shakes his head and pulls back to look at her, both of his arms wrapped around her to keep her in place, “Em, I…”

She nods and rests her forehead against his again, “I know,” she cups the back of his head, her nails scratching against his scalp, “I know.” 

They stand there, pressed against each other as they breathe each other in, the acknowledgement of everything else there was left to say, and he chuckles and pulls back to look at her, “Would it be cheesy for me to say this is something I’m thankful for?” 

She laughs, the sound wet as it catches on a sob and she nods, making her forehead knock against his, “Yes,” she says, wrapping her arms around his neck and dragging him into a kiss, “But I’ll let it slide this once.” 

She doesn’t have to say that she’s thankful too, because he already knows. 

[hop-drop-and-scop]

I'll say this as someone who was raised muslim and was surrounded solely by other muslim people my entire life.

I know multiple women who don't wear the hijab but are devout muslims, and I know plenty of women who do wear the hijab but don't actually give a toss about adhering to religious doctrine in their daily lives. They don't do their daily prayers, they don't read the Quran often if at all, they don't concern themselves with studying Islamic teachings, let alone following them, etc. I wore a hijab all throughout middle school - high school, and you'd be hard pressed to find someone less muslim.

In my experience, most of these women still choose to wear the hijab because they're just used to it. They grew up wearing it and don't want to take it off. For some, it's lost its religious connotations and becomes everyday wear or a fashion statement. Is that offensive? I don't think so. Some might argue that it is, but that doesn't erase the fact that there are people in the world who are like this.

Muslim people aren't a monolith. They aren't all by-the-book religious. Muslims who contradict their own religious doctrine because they don't know, or don't care, are more common than you think. I keep hearing people, either pointing to the fact that Basira drinks alcohol and was a cop when they try to argue that Basira can't possibly be muslim.

I myself don't even headcanon her as a "religious muslim." I always headcanon her as being raised muslim and following the traditions expected of her, but she herself doesn't follow religious teachings nor partakes in religious activities outside of the ones that have become a habit to her. She's effectively a "cultural muslim." I always imagined that she still wears the hijab and celebrates eid because that's just how she grew up.

I feel iffy whenever I hear people who aren't muslim nor were they raised muslim try to argue that headcanoning Basira as muslim is "offensive" because she isn't the picture-perfect example of a muslim person.

I don't understand why fictional depictions of other religions like Christianity or Judaism get to have more leeway with how they portray a character who is Christian or Jewish. A Christian character gets to be as devout or as irreverent as they like. There's more diversity in how a Christian or Jewish character's relationship to their religion is depicted. I get that nowadays, in the west, they're trying to undo depictions of harmful muslim stereotypes that were especially prevalent in 2000s - 2010s media, but it's come to the point where it lowkey feels like over-compensating. Heaven forbid a piece of media or fanwork depicts muslim characters as anything but goodie-two-shoes, doctrine-abiding individuals, and islam as anything but a completely un-problematic religion. For one, it's just not true? Neither of them are, and I'm tired of people becoming defensive when a muslim character is depicted as being irreverent towards Islamic beliefs or genuine (and I want to stress *genuine*) depictions of muslim characters leaving the religion because it has caused them harm.

I feel that to not depict different people's religious expression as well as their individual relationship to their faith is a failure in representation. Let "bad Muslims" exist for christ's sake. Muslims who are born into a religion they don't actually care for exist. Muslims who don't embody their religious doctrine because they were never taught it exist. Muslims who pick and choose what parts of their religion they practice while leaving the rest exist! Muslim people who don't fit into the perception of what a Muslim ought to be aren't any less Muslim.

Honestly, it reminds me of how queer representation in popular media nowadays is very sanitized. I get that it's in order to combat harmful stereotypes said about queer people in the past. And I definitely think there is a place for this type of representation (for both queer rep and muslim rep), but it shouldn't be the only type representation deemed acceptable.

TL;DR: There's people irl who wear hijabs but aren't religious, and that's ok. Wearing a hijab does not a muslim character make. Muslim characters who contradict their religious doctrine are not inherently harmful because people irl are like that sometimes, cut them some slack, and it is harmful to imply that their (people irl) religious expression is bad actually.

Hijabi basira really makes no sense to me, it feels like the fandom just wanted to force representation onto the characters. Basira actively does things all the time that contradict islamic beliefs and it low-key feels a bit disrespectful, the hijab isn't just cultural wear, it's a religious symbol/garment.

(I'm not muslim for reference)

🗣️

yeahh i've never understood hijabi basira either . - deceit

[laurenloveslearning]

people keep asking what i want to do for my birthday, and apparently my good friend and my boyfriend have been conspiring, but like. idk? what do people do for their birthdays, much less their 30th? i hadn’t done anything the year covid started and then it was too late. my ex didn’t really do holidays. my best friend’s husband has his birthday the same day so he likes to monopolize it. the last time i remember even going out with my friends was 2017?

ugh. this is stupid. and daniel wonders why i don’t have any good responses when he asks, or why i seem so reluctant.

[uncanny-tranny]

I love you smile lines and worry lines and grey and white hair and wrinkles and purple spiderweb veins and the process of aging and living in a body that is standing the test of times. I love you experiences that make you wiser and stories that make you laugh, and every little process that happens to get to the point where you have so many memories because you have the fortune to be here and be so radiant

[bisexualbuckl-y]

i can't stop thinking about buck's future reaction to this new eddie storyline in like a best friend way, because i don't know how aware buck is of how much eddie is struggling with his mental health lol, like how long ago was the last time they spoke about shannon in relation to eddie? does buck think eddie is over her death? or maybe not over but at least he's come to terms with it? i feel like we'll see eddie trying to hide this thing with kim and buck will surely know something's going on but i don't think he'll ever imagine something close to what's happening, and then aside from the lying and bad feelings surrounding the situation he'll also feel awful because he just didn't know how this was still an issue eddie was having... yk?

[fatehbaz]

.

[bunnyboy-juice]

;~; (tags vent)