#like i finally have the full picture of my life

[multicohn]

summary: max’s gf seems to be getting more love than him

warnings: highkey sucks, short

pairing: fem! reader x max verstappen

genre: fluff, drabble

author note: about time i wrote max

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

flashback:

max has always been a private person and after his breakup with kelly piquet, he became even more closed off. it was even rare for him to even participate in streams nowadays. however, what no one knew was max had been taking time to reflect ( not do anything stupid — gp ) and managed to bump into y/n.

now, monaco isn’t a big place, but he’s never seen her before.

max was oddly intrigued, but he had just ended a relationship — but, it didn’t hurt to be friends, right?

it took him two full days of just staring before finally making a move.

“what brand is your laptop?”

okay, it wasn’t the best, but it was something.

y/n looked up at the strange and furrowed her eyebrows.

“um — ( brand name )?” he nodded and walked off

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

even to this day, y/n still teases max about it. back then, in his mind, he was proud of himself for actually saying something, but y/n thought he was a bit strange.

when they eventually became more friendly and comfortable around each other, he asked her out on a date. y/n was hesitant. she found out who he was and who he previously dated, his fans weren’t exactly the most supportive and she worried that it’d be the same, but max reassured her that he would say something if needed.

however, what none of them expected was how much love y/n would gain from them.

[ “he may be a 3 time world champion, but i will never understand how he bagged someone like her” ]

[ “MAX MOVE IM TRYING TO SEE Y/N” ]

[ “if i was dating someone like y/n, you would have to pry me off her — AWOOGA” ]

every time he posted, there would be comments asking about her. however, there was always one in particular would catch his eye.

[ “is your girlfriend single?” ]

he would just stare.

of course she isn’t single, they’re literally dating?

“you’re in the trenches mate” was what alex told him when he asked what they meant ( he needed someone who understood the internet )

“what?”

“it’s a good thing, don’t worry”

max didn’t think so.

call him possessive, but he felt the need to make them back off and posted a set of pictures for their anniversary along with a lengthy caption.

sadly, it didn’t work.

[ “i can call her the love of my life in a different language too” ]

[ “6/10 for spelling, 4/10 for punctuation, 3/10 for creativity” ]

[ “i could write more” ]

just like what alex said, max is in the trenches.

[notjustjavierpena]

Inés just broke something in the house, what does hubby and wife say????

Mess (Drabble)

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Such a fun writing project, tysm. I missed them terribly! 

Summary: Inés breaks a lamp. Javier has the scare of his life.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: Family dynamics, Javier POV, fluff, hurt/comfort, i write to fix my own trauma 

Word count: 1.8k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52937182/chapters/137384134

Mess

The stack of folded clothes is growing taller whilst the laundry basket on the double bed is emptying out. Javier is enjoying a weekend with time to get housework done before midterms begin at the local college. He is nervous about guiding his students through the exams for the first time since starting his job as a teacher, feeling like he has only just begun his life as an educator and the responsibilities are overwhelming. You’ve sweetly encouraged him each time he’s voiced his concerns to you, told him that his class is lucky to have him whenever he has mumbled about nerves over dishes or during goodnight kisses. 

With your support, he has found that prepping for the exams is best done accompanied by mindless work and he has gone through several tasks on the list saved in his head; groceries have been bought, gutters have been cleaned, and two full baskets of children’s clothes have been washed and dried. He doesn’t want to admit to you that he thinks about the theories behind criminal behavior while folding Sebastian’s tiny socks. 

You are outside with the boys, enjoying the last months of your pregnancy with a book in your lap, laying in the hammock under the large trees. He checks on the three of you often, spotting that you have put down the book as you sway gently to substitute it with watching your children with a hand on your rounded belly. Lucas smiles brightly as he has Sebastian waddling hurriedly after him on the newly mowed grass. The soles of their feet will be green when they come inside later, marking the floorboards that he has just vacuumed but he doesn’t mind. It is evidence of fun, of love and joy. Messes equals life.

Inés is the only one who refuses to go outside. Her giggles and chatter floated up the stairs not too long again, blending with her little feet making the floorboards creak as she paced around with her hobby horse. It offers a rare kind of comfort to be able to hear her having fun while he packs clothes away into dressers and drawers. 

Until he doesn’t hear it anymore. Instead, it is a sudden crash that comes from downstairs and makes Javier tense up. He freezes to listen for her voice calling for him but only silence follows the loud noise. 

“Inés?” He calls. No answer. The t-shirt that he is in the middle of folding falls to the bed and his heartbeat quickens. 

He walks to the open door of the bedroom, grabs the doorframe, and leans out of it to listen again. He calls her name a second time, this time a little louder and more insistently, but there’s still no response. 

In his chest, his heart has started to pound enough for him to be able to hear it in his ears. Many thoughts go through his head at the sound of silence from the living room, firstly images of broken furniture but then finally the picture of his daughter who has fallen and hit her head. Why hadn’t he paid closer attention to her? Why hadn’t he checked on her sooner? 

He is out the door before he even realizes that he is moving, barrelling down the stairs and taking it two steps at a time. Fuck, maybe he could have prevented disaster if he had gone downstairs the second she had gone quiet. He raises his voice without thinking, knuckles whitening as he grips the banister, “Inés? Answer me now!”

When he stumbles into the living room, he first notices the broken lamp, a shattered bulb lying beside the ceramic base on the wooden floor but with no blood on the shards. Next to it, Inés’ hobby horse lies discarded like it has been thrown in a panicked hurry. He furrows his brow, scanning the room to find her. 

When he spots her through the doorway to the dining room, crouched down under the table, relief floods him. She isn’t hurt, no sign of even a scratch on her, but then he sees the way she has her knees pulled up to her chest and her eyes are fixated on the broken lamp. 

She’s scared not of the crash, he realizes, but of him; his shouting, his loud footsteps, the way he had said her name. She looks like she is bracing herself for trouble - more specifically the anger and disappointment in his voice - and she’s covering her ears with little, trembling hands in a way that is unsuccessful in keeping out noise. The sight of her terrified face makes Javier remember the feeling of being unfairly scolded for accidents horribly well, and his heart sinks.

He walks calmly into the dining room, not even thinking about the broken lamp anymore, and kneels on the floor. With his hands on his thighs, he takes a deep breath to steady himself, “Inés, I’m not mad at you. I just want to know if you’re okay, baby.”

His daughter lifts her gaze to meet his eyes. His chest constricts at the sight of the tears in Inés’ wide eyes, threatening to fall down her cheeks. She looks like a deer caught in the headlights of a car, still immovable. 

“Are you hurt?” He asks softly. 

“I didn’t mean to break it,” she answer in a whisper and shakes her head. She’s always so bold, hilarious, and mischievous but she’s so clearly hiding from him, trying to decide if it’s safe to come out or not. 

“I know you didn’t, mija (my daughter),” he reassures and moves slowly until he holds both hands out to her, palms open towards the ceiling, “It’s just a lamp, okay? Come here, I’m not mad. Just let me take a look at you.”

Javier can only imagine how fast her heart is beating in her chest right now, knowing that he hurried down here with his own racing heartbeat. She must be dizzy from the anxiety just as he is disoriented by his adrenaline. He gestures gently at her, beckoning her to him. 

“I didn’t mean to,” she repeats quietly.

“Lo sé (I know),” he offers her a little reassuring smile, shifting to sit cross-legged on the floor instead, “Can you come out, please?”

With hesitant steps, she moves from under the table and walks straight to him. He expects that he has to ask for a hug but just as she comes to a halt in front of him, she collapses into his arms like they are a harbor in a storm. He squeezes her tightly. 

“I thought you were mad at me, Papá,” she hiccups as her tears wet his shirt. He rests his chin on top of her head, his broad palm stroking her small back. 

“Not at all, baby. You just scared me is all. You didn’t answer and I thought you were hurt,” he explains while pressing gentle kisses to her hair. He inhales slightly, sighing at the way his baby girl smells of love to him. 

“I’m sorry,” she says and practically crawls into his lap. 

“It’s okay,” he replies, cradling her in the same manner as he has done since the day she was placed in his arms for the first time, “It’s just a lamp. Mamá and I can just get a new one but we can’t get a new you.”

“Will you tell her?” She pulls back to look up at him with huge, wet eyes. 

He nods, using his thumb to swipe at the tears on her face, “Yes, I will have to tell her but Mommy doesn’t care about the lamp either. I promise. We care about you. I’ll also tell her that you gave Daddy the scare of his life and made him run down the stairs like a crazy person.”

A tiny, hesitant giggle escapes her and he feels another wave of relief wash over him. She finally smiles and her voice is more steady now, “Silly.”

“Very silly,” he agrees with a smile and runs a palm over her head, threading his fingers through her hair, “But you know what’s not silly though?”

“What?”

“If anything like this ever happens again - if you break something or you get scared - I want you to call for me instead of hiding underneath the furniture. Just say ‘Papá, I need you’ and I’ll be there, okay?” 

She only hesitates for a moment but then nods thoughtfully, “Okay.”

“And hey, te quiero tanto (I love you so much).”

“I love you too, Daddy,” she says, no hesitation this time. 

The two of them stand up from the floor to look at the broken lamp on the floor. Inés makes an uncomfortable face, reaching for Javier’s hand. He holds her hand in his palm, “How about we tell Mom together?” 

“Now?” She widens her eyes but she isn’t crying anymore. 

“Yes now. Watch your feet, alright?” He waits for her to initiate the first step towards the door to the garden. Her eyes are firmly on the floor as they pass the broken ceramic shards. 

Outside, Javier's face is warm in the afternoon sun. There’s a buzz in the air from the cicadas’ singing and the laughter from his two sons. He and Inés find you in the hammock, the book still discarded as you watch your children with fondness but this time, you’ve switched to sitting. 

However, as they approach, your eyebrows knit together when you spot Inés' apprehensive look. You carefully plant your feet on the ground, asking, “Is everything okay?”

Javier glances at his daughter, “Inés has something she wants to tell you.”

She fidgets for a few seconds, looking down at her feet, but when she feels Javier’s hand on her shoulder, she looks up with determination. She confesses quietly but her voice doesn’t waver, “I broke the lamp. I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, Inés, baby,” your expression softens instantly. With a gentle touch, you brush a strand of hair out of your daughter’s face, “Are you okay? You’re not hurt?”

She shakes her head, “I’m okay. Daddy said you wouldn’t get mad but it is messy all over the floor.” 

“You’re okay and that’s all that matters,” your gaze flickers to Javier, a look warmer than the sun in your eyes. He feels his heart nearly leap out of his chest but he catches himself in interrupting the moment between you. You continue, “Daddy and I don’t mind messes, do we? As long as everyone is okay.”

“Yes,” Inés nods in grateful understanding. 

“How about you sit here with Mommy while I clean the floor?” Javier finally suggests, “Then the living room will be as good as new and you can play in there again?”

“Yes, please,” she says politely, “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeats. 

“Okay,” you chime in and kiss him softly on the mouth before he heads into the house once more. 

Yes, messes mean life, and Javier is lucky enough to live in a world where life also means love.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[bqstqnbruin]

Friendsgiving

Hi so we are going to ignore the fact that it is nearly 2 am but here I am with a fic that I started today because of this tik tok that I saw a few hours ago and I immediately went 'fic'. So, here we are

Warnings: none

WC: 5845

Enjoy!

__________________________________________

“Why and how are you in Vancouver?” 

“Don’t hate me.”

“Oh, my god, did you move to Canada without me? You moved and didn’t even tell me.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at what you hoped was Lena’s unnecessary panic that you heard through your phone speaker, trying to navigate your way through the airport that you had never been to before. “No, I’m just probably doing something stupid.” 

“And you’re doing it without me?”

“Leen, I’ll catch you up later, ok?”

“Am I going to have to make sure you don’t end up in a ditch?”

“You should probably watch my location for the next few days,” you say, in all seriousness. “But I have to go, I love you, bye.”

You hang up on your best friend as you hear her screaming on the other end about calling the authorities, knowing that she wouldn’t actually do that. Actually, she might. But you can’t think about that right now.

You were trying to find Brock, despite the fact that you had never met him in person and stupidly agreed to fly to Vancouver on a day's notice from your home the week of Thanksgiving. 

You couldn’t believe the last couple of days of your life. You had posted a silly photo of you and your friends at your annual Friendsgiving. You always got together the Friday before, and had been doing so since middle school when your parents still had to either make the food for you, or had to be in the kitchen with you heavily supervising the entire time. This year was the 15th year in a row that you had all gotten together, celebrating in a much bigger fashion than you had in years past; you all dressed up, you all brought the food in the best serving dishes you had instead of the Dollar Tree tin dishes you all normally brought, you had the fanciest bottles of wine you could afford littering the table, and you had even all planned to stay over together for the first time, continuing the event into the morning. 

Brock had messaged you because of the photo. You were mutuals, having some of the same friends in college but never actually interacted with each other. 

All of your friends talked about how you two would get along so well, but it seemed like every time you were supposed to meet, something happened that prevented you from doing so. There was the one party you were supposed to go to with your friends, that you had been planning on going to all week until you got food poisoning from the dining hall. There was the class you were supposed to take together until his practice times got changed and ended up conflicting with the class. You were supposed to go to a formal together as each other's dates until he slept through his alarm and missed the bus to the venue.

You were always supposed to meet, until you didn’t.

But then you got the message from him a few days ago asking if you wanted to come to his Friendsgiving that he was going to with his American teammates. 

It was easily the craziest thing you had done in your life, saying yes to flying out to Vancouver the next day to meet a guy you had never actually met in person, or really talked to before those messages.

It made you realize you really hadn’t done much with your life. 

You walked through the airport, trying to see if you could find the guy you would be spending the next couple of days with by the baggage claim where he told you he would meet you. 

You finally see him, the blonde head of hair sticking out to you for an unknown reason. 

You knew from his pictures on his account that he was attractive, but, shit, he was gorgeous in person. 

He was also dressed up way more than he should be for someone to be waiting for a stranger in an airport; he was in a full suit and tie, his hair looking like he had just gotten out of the shower and styled it immediately. 

“Hi,” he says to you when he sees you, a smile on his face making your heart skip a beat. 

You didn’t even know this guy. “Hi,” you manage to get out as he pulls you in for a hug. “You look good, all dressed up.” 

Brock reaches for your bag, taking it off your shoulder and walking you out of the airport. “Thanks.”

“Why are you dressed up?”

“We’re on our way to the game.”

“We?”

“I didn’t tell you?”

“Do I look like I’m dressed for a hockey game?”

Brock looks at you as the two of you approach his car, opening his trunk to put your bag in. “You look great to me.”

“I’m in sweats, fresh off a plane. When do you think you told me?”

“Uh,” he lets out as you get in his car. “Yesterday?”

You take out your phone, scrolling through the messages the two of you exchanged. “You told me you had a game, not that I was going to one.” 

“Who did I tell that to yesterday?” he says, staring out through his front windshield, wracking his brain. You couldn’t help but laugh. “I can take you back to my place, if you want.”

“Would that make you late for the game?”

He glances at the clock, pulling out his phone. “Very late, yes.” 

You roll your eyes, fighting back a smile that you couldn’t help. “I’ll go to the game. I’m sure I have something I can change into stuffed in my bag.” 

The two of you fall into easy conversation, much like you had when he first reached out to you. There was something about him that was easy to talk to. 

He pulls up to the arena, still talking about one of the parties you were both supposed to go to in college.

“Do you remember that one kid, Chris, who somehow threw up at every party he went to?” he asks you, leaning against his car as you rifle through your bag in his trunk, searching for any semblance of an outfit that was better than the sweats you were currently in.  

“Hold on,” you tell him, climbing into the trunk and pulling the hatch closed, trying your best to change in the cramped space. You managed to find jeans and a black shirt that could pass as a non-airport outfit that you were smart enough to pack as a spare since Brock didn’t really give you a ton of information as to how the week was going to go. You could see him standing outside the car, dumbfounded by the abrupt nature of you practically commandeering his car as a changing room for yourself. “Ok, I’m good,” you say, opening the door back up in what you were sure was record time for changing in a car trunk.

“Wow,” he says, you noticing the slightest shade of red appearing on his cheeks. 

“Better?” you ask. Your foot catches on part of the trunk as you try to get out, practically falling out of his car. 

You feel Brock’s hands catch you, spreading across your back and under your legs. “Much,” he says, his face inches from yours. He clears his throat, his face turning bright red as he puts you down.

He wasn’t about to kiss you, was he? And why would you have been ok if he did that? “Thanks for that,” you tell him, embarrassment seeping into your voice. 

“So, uh, Chris?” he asks, walking you into the arena with his hands now firming shoved into his pockets.

“He really did somehow end up in the bathroom at every party.”

“Even if he didn’t have anything to drink that night.” 

“I wonder what he’s up to now?”

“He just got engaged, actually,” you tell him. “His fiance was one of my lab partners back in college.” 

“Wow. Never would have known that,” he tells you. The two of you walk through what you could only describe as the tunnels of the arena, Brock showing you around and trying to explain to you what everything was. 

“You’re gonna be in here,” he tells you, showing to a room that was filled with women and children who all seemed to know each other. Before you can ask anything, he checks his watch, his eyes practically bugging out of his head. “Shit, I’ve gotta get ready. I’ll meet you right here after the game.” 

Brock runs off, leaving you standing at the entrance to this room that you could see was at ice level, filled with people you didn’t know. 

You couldn’t enter the room. This was already ridiculous, you being here in the first place with a guy you just met for the first time in person less than an hour before. Now you were apparently supposed to go into this room with a bunch of people and do what? Talk to them? 

No thank you.

You feel your phone vibrating in your pocket, leaning against the wall next to the entrance of this room as Lena calls you again. “Ok, you did not fly all the way to Vancouver to see a Canucks game.”

“I’m going to stop sharing my location with you,” you laugh.

“Ok, spill, why the hell are you in Vancouver?”

You recount the whole string of events to her, realizing how ridiculous the whole situation sounded now that you were actually verbally articulating everything. “And now, I’m outside of this room with a bunch of women and I think this is where I’m supposed to be for the rest of the game.”

“Are you in the WAG room?”

“The what?”

“The WAG room.”

“No, I heard you,” you sigh, “What does that mean?”

“The wives and girlfriends.”

You stare at the wall on the other side of the hallway as people you ignored scurried around you. “But I’m not a wife or a girlfriend?”

“Well, as long as you have that established. I heard there’s supposed to be amazing food in those rooms for the families.” 

You peek your head into the room, seeing a line of the women forming on the other side of the room in front of what looked like an incredible spread of food. “I can see that.”

“Go in!” Lena shrieks in your ear. “Have fun, make friends, and bring me some food when you get back.” She hangs up before you can say anything else, leaving you there with your phone pressed against your ear and no one on the other end of the call. 

You finally work up the courage to go into the room, trying to slip in and stay in the back, out of the way of anyone who would feel the need to come to talk to you. You stay along the wall closest to the door, trying to take in the room around you. There were children seemingly everywhere, running and shrieking as they played with each other. Toys were scattered all over the floor, bags lined against the wall. You probably looked like a freak the way you were moving through the room, trying to find a seat that you could sink into and become invisible in.

“Shit,” you let out, slamming down onto the floor, tripping over one of the toys you were somehow too busy to notice. 

“Are you ok?” one of the women asks you, crouching down on the floor to meet you at what was now, embarrassingly, eye level. 

You could feel your face getting hot. “Other than my ego being bruised, I think I’m good.” 

“I haven’t seen you before,” she says to you. “I’m Lexie. I’m Thatcher’s wife.”

You had no idea who Thatcher was, but it probably wouldn’t look good for you if you admitted that. 

You introduce yourself, finally getting up off the floor and dusting yourself off. “I’m here with Brock.”

Lexie’s eyes light up with excitement. “You must be Brock’s mystery girl.” The room seems to go silent when Lexie practically shrieks that, even the children making no noise. “He had been telling us he was seeing someone, but we never thought he would bring you to a game early.”

“Oh, I,” you start, getting nervous now that all eyes were on you. You had no idea what he had told these women, or their husbands, or boyfriends, or whoever these people were. “Here I am.”

“I can’t believe Brock would just throw you to the wolves like this,” Lexie says, linking her arm with yours and walking you over to the food table.

“Are you kidding?” another one of the women chimes in. “This is exactly something Brock would do. I’m Natalie, by the way, J.T.’s wife.”

The two women start chatting your ear off, you unable to comprehend what they were saying. Brock had a ‘mystery girl,’ that you had now taken on the identity of. Brock was probably seeing someone who couldn’t be there this week and now he was going to look like an awful human when you suddenly disappeared and were replaced with another person next week. 

But, why did you care? You barely knew Brock.

You had no idea how much time passed by when they all start filtering out the seats near the ice, the players skating around in circles. 

You join them, unsure what else to do. You pull out your phone, getting an idea and starting to type in a new note, trying to wave Brock over to the boards when you finally get his attention.

They think I’m your ‘mystery girl??? you show him with your phone screen pressed against the glass when he comes over. The color seems to drain from his face, mouthing ‘I’m sorry,’ and shrugging way too casually for your liking before practically sprinting away from you to the other side of the rink. 

You head back into the room, beelining for the exit and pulling up Lena’s number.

“Brock told everyone he and I are dating?” you try not to scream too loudly, hoping that none of the people in the room or in the hallway 

“Oh,” Lena says. “That’s not great.”

“Not great?” you say, running your hand through your hair, feeling yourself panic. “This is crazy. What if this turns into a psycho killer situation?’

“He’s way too high profile in the area to get away with killing you.”

“That’s not reassuring.” 

“I’m just saying he wouldn’t get away with it.”

“Adelena,” you stomp your foot like a child out of frustration, using your friend's full name.

“Ok, calm down,” she says. “There’s no need for the government name here. I think you just need to talk to him after the game and figure out what’s going on. I will fly out there and save you if I have to.” 

You take in a deep breath. This was the dumbest thing you could have done, regret seeping into you with every passing moment that you spent in Vancouver. “I’ll let you know.” You go back in the room, trying to pay attention to the game as the people around you milled about, trying to get to know you and about your ‘relationship’ with Brock.

“How long have you two been going out?” Lexie asks eagerly. 

“Um,” you panic, “Not that long, honestly. This is all really new.” That wasn’t a total lie.

“How did you two even meet?”

“We went to college together.” 

Before Lexie could ask you another question that you probably didn’t have an answer to, a toddler runs up to her, crying. “Gotta go,” she says to you, lifting the toddler and trying to comfort them. 

You sat and tried to watch the rest of the game, writing down everything you told Lexie in hopes that Brock would have said something similar. You spent the rest of the game on your phone texting with Lena, thankful that no one else in the room came up to you to talk to you or ask questions the way Lexie had, only going back to the ice and looking up from your screen to see Brock scoring.

You wait outside the room for Brock once the game was over, his teammates coming out much faster than he was as the hallway and the room behind you slowly emptied out, leaving you alone in the hallway. 

“What the fuck,” you ask him when you finally see him. 

“I’m sorry, I know,” he tells you, walking out to his car. 

“I don’t care if you need me to pretend to date you, but I would have liked to know about it before you threw me into the Gossip Grotto.” 

Brock exhales when he gets into the car, resting his head against the steering wheel while you stared at him with your arms crossed in front of you. “The guys keep bugging me about not dating anyone so I told them I was seeing someone to get them to shut up.” 

“And you didn’t think that was relevant to mention when you invited me here that there was a good chance they would think I’m the girl you’re dating?”

“No. I figured they would have forgotten about it by now.” 

“Well, their wives didn’t.”

“So what do we do?”

You stare at him. “I could leave on the next flight and get out of here and probably be mad at you forever. Or, we pretend we’re together.”

He whips his head to you, his eyes crazy with shock. “What?”

You shrug, pulling out your phone and showing him the notes you made during the game about you and him being together. “We fake date. I’m only here until Wednesday, and you said we were only going to be seeing your friends on Tuesday night. We have plenty of time to figure this out.”

“We have a day and a half.” 

You scoff. “You think I haven’t figured out more complicated things in less time? I got a plane ticket and got myself here on twelve hours notice.”

“So, we fake date?”

“We fake date.” 

_____________________________

“What are you doing?” you ask, walking into Brock’s kitchen the next morning, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. You spent the night in his guest room, sleeping in what was probably the most comfortable bed you had ever slept in. You spent the night before starting to hash out the story you would tell his teammates and their partners, agreeing that you would only share information about the two of you if you were directly asked about it. 

“Debating whether or not to make us breakfast,” he tells you, one hand on his hip, the other holding open the fridge door. Brock had on no socks, boxer shorts and a t-shirt, all of which showed off to you just how unfair his entire physique was. His hair was messy in a somehow perfect way that would have made you drool under any other context. You could pretend to drool over him, but real drooling was out of the question right now. 

“What’s the other option?”

He closes the fridge door, turning to face you. “I don’t make breakfast and we go out for food instead.” 

“How good are you at making breakfast?”

“I make a mean bowl of cereal.” 

“We’re going out for breakfast, get dressed.” 

“Wow, my girlfriend is bossy,” he smirks as you walk away, looking over your shoulder at him and sticking your tongue out.

Was that too flirty? You had agreed last night that flirting was ok so you could ‘get used to it.’ How could you flirt in front of other people if you had never done it before? 

You call Lena while you were getting ready. 

“You could just real date him,” you hear her suggest, crunching on something on the other end of the line.

“You could just give me real advice and not chew on something in my ear.” 

“It’s morning, let me eat my apple,” Lena says, obviously with her mouth full. “What are you guys doing today?”

“Right now, getting ready for breakfast. Beyond that, watch my location.”

“Yeah, I have no job. I can just stalk you all day.”

“If I end up dead how are you going to know?”

“Ugh, fine,” she sighs. “Have fun, don’t die.”

She hangs up, leaving you alone to get dressed for a day you didn’t know the details of. You pull on leggings and a sweater, your sneakers on and grabbed a jacket that you didn’t even know if you needed. You head back out to Brock’s kitchen, finding him leaning against the counter on his phone.

“You need to change,” you tell him. He had on black jeans and the same color sweater as you. 

“This could be a cute couple thing,” he jokes. “We could take a picture together and post it, or something.” You hesitate, walking over to Brock as he extends his hand with his camera open. “At least pretend to like me,” he tells you, plastering a smile on his face as he starts taking photo after photo.

You rest your hand on his chest, leaning into him and smiling at his camera. You did look good together, if you had to admit. 

“Can you do one where you kiss my cheek?’

“What?”

“Don’t couples do that?’

You stare at him for a second. Would it be weird to do that? He asked you to do it. “I normally scroll past those photos.”

“Me, too.” The two of you stand in silence for a second, neither of you sure how to go on. “Maybe we don’t do that. Too much, too soon.” You nod in agreement.

“So, where are we going?”

Brock smiles at you, leading you out the door. 

_____________________________

The breakfast he took you to was amazing. He said that he had an entire day for you planned as a thank you for coming out here in the first place. 

“How are you with hiking?”

“It depends.”

“On?”

“How long the trail is.”

Brock laughs, putting his car in park in front of a water front. 

“If we don’t stop, it’ll take two hours.” 

“That seems like a long time.”

“That’s how long my games are.”

“Yeah, that was a long time,” you tease him, getting out of the car. 

The trail was beautiful, a breeze off the water cooling you down as you walked alongside Brock. This could easily have been a real date if the two of you were actually together. 

You shake your head slightly of the thought. This was just supposed to be you helping him out, even though that wasn’t the original purpose of your trip. “So what are you supposed to do for Friendsgiving tomorrow night?”

Brock stops walking, the person behind him nearly knocking into him as he scolds Brock for stopping in the middle of the trail. You pull him over to the side of the walkway, ignoring the spark that you swore ran through you as laced your fingers in his. 

“I have no idea, actually.” 

“So you’re off to a great start.”

“I think I was told to bring something in the group chat,” he says, using his free hand to pull out his phone and start scrolling through the message thread that seemed to go on forever, your hands still intertwined. You weren’t sure he even noticed at this point, but part of you didn’t want to be the one to break the connection between you. “Ah, mac and cheese.”

“Have you ever made homemade mac and cheese before?”

“It has to be homemade?”

You roll your eyes, starting to walk again with your hands still locked together. “Did you think it would just magically spawn in front of you once you got to Quinn’s place?”

“I only have boxes of the store brand of mac and cheese.”

“Oh my god,” you sigh, pulling out your phone and finding the recipe you make for yourself when you have motivation. “Can you use Quinn’s oven when you get there or will he not have space?”

He quickly types on his phone as the two of you keep walking. “Yeah, we can as long as it doesn’t take too long,” he tells you, showing you the message from Quinn.

You nod, scrolling to the recipe on the website. “What do you have from these ingredients?” 

Brock quickly scans the list, nodding along and mouthing each component to himself. “I have the flour, salt, and pepper.”

“So you were supposed to be making mac and cheese and you had neither the mac nor the cheese?”

“That would be correct.”

“Oh my god,” you groan again. Brock stops walking, pulling you off to the side of the trail again. “What?” Brock gestures to the water in front of you, the sun making the ripples shine, the sky absolutely pristine. “Wow,” you let out. 

“What do you think?” you hear him ask, not taking your attention away from the sight in front of you.

“It’s beautiful.”

“It is.” You look over at him, seeing him tuck his phone away into his pocket, his eyes on you instead of the view. 

_____________________________

“Why was getting all of this way harder than I thought it would be?” Brock asks, putting the bags of groceries on the counter.

“Because you had no idea where anything in the store was and we had to keep doubling back for things we missed the first time.”

“You really have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

“We’re dating, isn’t that something you’re supposed to know?”

Brock laughs, pulling out pans and bowls from his cabinets as you start to get everything prepared for the mac and cheese. You tell him what to do, giving him step-by-step instructions.

“This is nice,” he tells you. 

You think for a moment, shredding the cheese into a bowl. The recipe called for more cheese than any recipe you had ever made before, and somehow the mountain of cheese in front of you still didn’t feel like enough. “It is.”

“My mom and dad used to cook like this,” he tells you, his voice somber as he comes up behind you. 

“Yeah?”

“She would tell him what to do and he would do it. Badly, but he would try his best.” You laugh along with him. He had told you that his father had passed away a couple of years ago, but you didn’t know anything else about him other than what she could find with a quick google search that now, in a weird way, felt like an invasion of privacy. “We could always tell which things Dad helped with because they tasted just a little off.” 

“You miss him, don’t you?” you say, slowing down your shredding and turning towards him. He was facing you again, his arm around you but not touching you, resting on the counter on the other side of you. 

“Always.”

You swore he was going to lean in, his eyes flickering down to your lips. You clear your throat, turning back to the cheese. “You should check the pasta to see if it’s almost done or not.”

Brock nods, smiling and winking at you before doing what he was told.

_____________________________

“This is all fake.”

“And?”

“It doesn’t feel fake.” 

“Well, you aren’t a great actress, are you?”

“Lena,” you whine. 

“I saw you try out for The Little Mermaid in middle school.” 

You had texted her once the mac and cheese was done and you were back in what Brock now referred to as ‘your room,’ panicking that he had almost kissed you again. What if you were just reading into things? You felt stupid to think that he was doing anything more than pretending for the sake of getting used to things for tomorrow, right?

“Is there a chance for this to turn into something not fake?”

“Considering he lives in a different country, unless you want me to actually move to Canada without you, no.” 

“Do you want it to be something that isn’t fake?”

You hesitate, knowing that Lena had a stupid smirk on her face that would turn into some sort of ‘I told you so,’ later in the conversation. “Does it matter?”

“Of course it does.”

You sigh. “He’s great, but I’ve known him for two days. You don’t fall for someone like that in two days, it’s absurd.”

“Jack and Rose did in Titanic.”

“And that’s fiction, not real life.”

“Ok, if you had more than two days, then what?” 

“Then, I don’t know. Maybe?” 

“So, what do you do about it?”

“What can I do, Leen?” You flop down on the bed. “I’m here for less than two days before I leave and probably never talk to him again. The best this can be is fake.” 

_____________________________

“Are you ready for this?” Brock asks you, handing you one of the trays of food you made. “No.”

He smiles at you. “Me neither.” 

You head towards the door of Quinn’s place, ready to be as overwhelmed with the people you were about to encounter as you were two days prior at the game, even if you had already met most of these people. 

Lexie is the first one to greet you, somehow, through the chaos of everyone else around you. She leads the two of you into the kitchen, even though Brock already knows his way around. “I’m stealing her,” she tells Brock, grabbing you by the hand and leading you off to another room while all the guys stand around the kitchen island, somehow the ones in charge of the food.

“It is so good to see Brock so happy,” she tells you, handing you a glass of wine as she poured one for herself. The two of you were alone in the room she pulled you into, leaving you amazed that with that many people in the house, there was even an empty room to begin with. “I mean, those photos he posted of you? You are the most photogenic person I have ever seen.”

“Uh, yeah,” you tell her, knowing that you have to stop stammering everytime you try to give someone an answer. 

“You don’t know about the pictures?” You shake your head. She prompts you to pull up Brock’s page, the most recent pictures one from yesterday.

You scroll through the carousel. The first one, as you saw, was the one of you two before you went out for the day. The second one was one of you in the airport, looking for him. You thought you looked awful, but somehow, he made you look good. The third from the game the other night, one of the photographers probably captured a photo after he scored of him looking at you and smiling at him before he heads to the bench. The fourth and fifth were ones you had no idea he took; when you were looking out at the water yesterday, smiling at the sight while your hair somehow perfectly framed your face, and while you were hunched over the cheese, grating too many cups of the stuff for today. 

“He’s in deep,” Lexie smirks, drinking her wine. 

You can feel the heat rushing to your cheeks as you looked at the photos, which he captioned, Thankful for you, with your handle tagged. 

“Now it makes sense why I’m getting so many notifications,” you joke, setting your glass down on the table in front of you. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to go find the bathroom.” 

You head back towards the kitchen, hoping to find Brock there. 

“I’m surprised you actually are dating someone,” you hear someone’s voice in the kitchen.

“Yeah,” Brock responds.

“I thought you made her up,” another voice agrees with the first. 

“I’m not Quinn, I wouldn’t do that,” Brock lies.

“That was one time when I was in sixth grade,” the first voice argues.

You hear Brock laugh, your heart fluttering at the sound, immediately hating yourself for that. You’ve known him for a few days, why did you have to remind yourself about that?

“How long have you guys even been together?” Your heart stops,hoping Brock remembered all the things they talked about the last few days. She knew what he should say, but that didn’t mean he would say it.

“Only about two months, I think.” 

“You think?”

“Petey, you know he’s not good with time.” 

You finally work up the nerve to walk into the room, seeing Brock’s face light up at the sight of you. 

He was faking it. 

“Hey, babe,” he says, pulling you close and kissing the side of your head. 

“God, you two aren’t going to be the kind of couple who overdo the PDA, are you?” Petey asks.

“Only if you piss us off,” Brock says, not taking his eyes off you. 

“So, um,” you say, coming back to reality and turning to the other two. “Everything looks great.” 

Quinn looks at the clock on the oven. “We should probably eat soon. The food should be in a couple of minutes.”

“We’ll get everything on the table,” Brock volunteers the two of you, grabbing one of the plates and handing them to you.

“Everything is going well, so far, I think,” you whisper to him once you’re out of earshot of the others. 

“Everyone thinks we’re actually together. I think we might pull it off.” 

_____________________________

The rest of the night went surprisingly well, the attention largely kept off the two of you most of the time as the team seemed to be more interested in teasing each other while their partners rolled their eyes at the guys’ antics. Brock drove you back in silence, a smile on his face the entire time. 

You headed to bed, knowing that you were going to be leaving when you woke up the next morning, part of you dreading the moment Brock would drop you off at the airport. 

He pulled up to the terminal, neither of you moving once he put the car in park. 

“Can I admit something?” he asks. 

“Sure.”

“I don’t think I want you to leave.” 

You look at him. “I don’t really want to leave.”

“But,” he starts.

“I have to.” 

Brock gets out of the car before you could say anything else, heading to grab your bag from his trunk. 

“We were good at fake dating, though,” he says, handing you your bag. 

You nod as he pulls you in for a hug. “Was all of it fake?” You don’t know what compelled you to ask that, other than you not thinking before you speak.

Brock smiles, his arms still wrapped around you. Before you can fully process it, his lips find yours, a sweet, slow kiss as your lips moved together, his hand on the small of your back pressing you into him. 

“No.” 

[woso-story]

Uncertain Future

Ingrid Engen x Mapi Leon

Ingrid sat by the window, gazing out at the sparkling Barcelona skyline. The city had been home for the past three years, a place where she found not just success on the pitch, but love. Love with Mapi, her partner in every sense of the word. Their relationship had blossomed over time, and despite the whirlwind that was professional football, they had built a life together. They were a team, both on and off the field.

But now, as the season neared its end, a quiet unease settled over Ingrid. Her contract with Barcelona was expiring, and with it, the uncertainty of her future started. The club had offered her a renewal, but the terms were clear: her role would be as a squad player, not a regular starter. With the team back to full strength after injuries, she had found herself on the bench more often than not. She loved Barcelona—loved the team, the city, the vibrant camaraderie, and most of all, she loved Mapi. But staying meant sacrificing the thing she had worked her entire life for: playing football at the highest level, not watching it from the sidelines.

Knowing that her time as a first-choice player was over, gnawed at her. She couldn’t accept that. Not again. Not after all she had given to the club.

Offers had come in from all over Europe: Arsenal, Lyon, even her former club Wolfsburg. Yet, it was Bayern Munich that lingered in her thoughts. Tuva, her Norwegian teammate and friend, had always spoken highly of Munich. She had painted a picture of a club that was like a family, much like Barcelona. A place where football came first, but where players were cared for and valued. The best part was that Munich wasn’t too far from Barcelona—just a short flight away—meaning Ingrid could still see Mapi as often as possible. The city itself, nestled close to the mountains, reminded her of home. It was the kind of place where she could imagine herself thriving, both as a player and as a person.

She had spent days thinking about it, weighing her options, trying to picture a future with Mapi in Barcelona versus a future without her in Munich. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized that Bayern Munich offered her a chance to be part of something exciting, a new chapter in her career. The competition would be fierce, but she would have a place in the team. It wasn’t Barcelona, but it was a place where she could play and be happy.

But how could she even begin to explain that to Mapi?

That evening, Ingrid sat on the couch in their cozy apartment, the soft hum of the city outside barely audible over the faint music playing in the backround. She gazed at Mapi, who was curled up on the other end of the couch, reading. The warm glow of the setting sun painted the room in shades of orange and gold, a reflection of the life they had built together over the past years - a life that Ingrid cherished so deeply. 

"Princesa," Mapi's voice broke through her thoughts. She had closed her book and was watching Ingrid with gentle concern. "You’ve been quiet all evening. What’s on your mind?"

Ingrid hesitated, her heart pounding. She had rehearsed this conversation in her head a dozen times, but now that the moment had come, words failed her. Finally, she sighed and turned to face Mapi fully.

"I’ve been thinking about my future," she began softly, watching Mapi’s expression shift to one of focus. "My contract with Barça... you know it ends soon. They want me to stay, but I won’t be a starter. Not with everyone back from injury."

Mapi frowned. "You’re important to the team, Ingrid. Even if you’re not starting every game—"

"I know," Ingrid interrupted gently, reaching for Mapi’s hand. "But it doesn’t feel like enough. I’ve worked so hard to play at the top level, and sitting on the bench... it’s frustrating. I feel like I’m losing myself a little."

Mapi’s gaze softened, and she squeezed Ingrid’s hand. "So what are you saying? You’re thinking of leaving?"

Ingrid nodded, her voice catching. "I don’t want to go. I love it here. I love you. But I’ve had offers from other clubs, and one of them... Bayern Munich... it feels like it could be a good fit. I’d get to play more. Really play."

Mapi was quiet for a long moment, her fingers absently tracing patterns on Ingrid’s hand. When she finally spoke, her voice was steady but tinged with sadness. "I understand why you feel this way. Football is your dream, Ingrid, and I’d never want to hold you back from that. But... leaving Barça, leaving us—it’s a big decision."

Tears pricked at Ingrid’s eyes. "I don’t want to lose us, Maria. That’s the last thing I want. I love you too much to let distance come between us. Munich isn’t so far. I could visit, and you could visit me. It wouldn’t be easy, but I think we could make it work."

Mapi nodded, her own eyes glistening. "We’ve faced challenges before, and we’ve come out stronger. Wherever you go, Ingrid, we’ll make it work. I love you. And you deserve to be happy. If Bayern Munich feels like the right place, then maybe that’s where you need to be."

Ingrid smiled at her, the weight of her words lifting slightly. "You’re right," she whispered. "Bayern is a place I could see myself being happy. Tuva says it’s like a family. And the city... it could feel like home. The mountains, the air. I don’t want to go, but I also can’t stay if I’m not playing. You understand that, don’t you?" 

Mapi squeezed her hand, nodding. "Of course I do. You’ve always been so driven. You need to do what’s best for you, even if it means making a difficult choice."

Ingrid leaned her head on Mapi’s shoulder, feeling the familiar warmth of her presence. "I just don’t want to lose you. Barcelona is where we’ve built our life together. I don’t want to leave you behind."

Mapi kissed the top of her head. "You won’t lose me. We’ll figure it out. I’ll visit you in Munich, and you’ll visit me here. We’ll make it work, like we always do."

Ingrid felt a sense of peace settle over her. She had never doubted Mapi’s support, but hearing the words spoken aloud made all the difference. Whatever the future held, they would face it together.

With a deep breath, Ingrid made her decision. She would accept Bayern Munich’s offer. It wasn’t Barcelona, but it was the chance she needed to continue her career, to keep playing the sport she loved. And most importantly, it wasn’t the end. It was just the beginning of a new chapter—one that she and Mapi would write together, no matter where it took them.

Later that night, as they lay together, Ingrid felt the warmth of Mapi’s embrace and knew, no matter where she played, her heart would always belong to the love they had built in Barcelona. The future, though uncertain, was full of possibility. And with Mapi by her side, it would be a future worth chasing.

The next morning, Ingrid made the call to Bayern Munich, her heart a little lighter with each word. It was time to take the leap.

[ashersbraincell]

Thinking about the type of kid/early teen I used to be. The kind, caring, sociable, helpful, empathetic to a fault hard-worker.

And thinking about how she was emotionally beaten out of me by force.

And thinking about how she’s probably that odd ache in my chest that refuses to go away no matter how hard I try to make myself jaded to protect both her and myself.

[alackofghosts]

hey, girlfriend

[bombusbombus]

recoloured this old warmup to repost cause I had it on my mind.

If Clark is going to be in earth 19 (gotham by gaslight universe) (they're publishing more gbg and clark is going to be there), then listen to me listen to me, he needs to be a cowboy. Superman needs to be a cowboy in the big city. I am SOO serious about this. I am on my knees, DC, let me write for you, I would add so many themes about modern technology versus traditional knowledge and sprinkle in some anticolonialism PLEASE.

You could have a cute little Daily Planet that has to struggle against yellow journalism in a smoky little backroom & setting their own type, a la The Truth. You could have gentlemen's clubs. You could have a brutal war against unions in the streets and one lone titan of industry giving into their demands. You could have the exact same 3 batkids from the movie, there's literally nothing to improve on there. You could have Clark tear down a barbed wire fence with his bare hands, in a futile attempt to unravel colonialist ideas of private land ownership. Imagine the alien knows more about the earth, the real earth, than the knight in his city does. Imagine the American dream failing Clark, who has to go back east to the big city, failing Bruce, who lost his parents, failing everyone over and over until they decide to build something without it. In an era of rampant exploitation, what do real heroes look like?

Or you can make the justice league fight big steampunk robots ig I'm excited either way.

[giantkillerjack]

Ya know. I spent most of my life with horrible painful soul-crushing social anxiety.

And after about 25 years of continuous hard work, suddenly, people started pointing out - to my utter bafflement - that I had, in fact, achieved my lifelong dream of being charismatic. I'm 29 now; I feel comfortable in most social situations, and it is a very rare person whom I cannot make laugh.

I am, undoubtedly, finally, charismatic.

But do you know what I found?

I found that now that I have an understanding of which social rules serve which functions -- Now that I have an understanding of just how much damage my awkwardness was doing to people, well,

I found that, actually, my awkwardness never really hurt anyone at all. People were just judgmental dicks to me about it.

Now that I have the skill-level to (most of the time) creatively vocalize what is in my head as soon as I think it and without fear, I can confirm once and for all what I had always suspected:

I was worth talking to when I was quiet.

I was worth talking to when I was awkward, and when the words in my head took time and patience to hear, and when most of my jokes didn't land. I was worth talking to the whole time.

So I just... I hope that if you've ever wondered whether you are worth communicating with, the answer is yes. Absolutely yes. Each of us has a soul worth sharing - and if you and I were talking, I would happily wait for you to speak (or communicate in other ways) without condescending, and I would never shame you for that harmless awkwardness that so many people feel the need to violently stomp out.

You are worth talking to. You just are. And you deserve people who will speak to you with kindness, with patience, and with the basic immutable respect owed to all people.

(I talk about this with some frequency, both on tumblr and in real life. At some point, maybe I'll gather all my thoughts on the matter into one post. At some point, I wrote about my personal experience trying to build my social skill. But I felt the need to say at least a little bit tonight after seeing this other lovely post, and I'm glad I did. It will happen again.)

[rainbluealoekitten]

i genuinely feel so bad for my ex's gf though because she's out here posting on her insta that it's their 3 month anniversary but boyo is making me playlists with unrequited love songs and posts stuff about being nostalgic about when we were dating, keeps complimenting how i look, and literally yesterday was telling me he still has the sticker we stole from the library where we held hands and cuddled like. he's such an important friend to me but really i guess i will have to cut him off (again) bc i thought we were both over this but apparently not and it's just going to hurt a lot of people if i don't

[songbirdsandsugar-moved]

Y’all….

Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but one of the other servers told me and the hot server that we’re a lot alike. He said “y’all have the same energy, same vibes, shared interests.”

I started laughing and was like “what shared interests do we have?”

He said, “that’s for y’all to figure out.”

Is he trying to set us up???

[on-the-clear-blue]

Little idea wiggling about in my brain...

So like *holds Danny and Billy up by the scruff of their shirts* these two bastards won't leave my brain, and for punishment I will make them kiss...

Just, the Rock of eternity technically is Shazam's (the wizards) haunt? He has been dead for a long time, living only though his champion, what if Ghost King Danny gets slapped with a post it note that reads like

"Daniel, you're required to assist the Champion of Magic as the High King of the Realms, even Pariah helped the previous Champion Black Adam."

And Danny is like, "Sure, why not, Magic is real and so are ghosts."

And like....

Sparky Danny meeting Literal Sun Beam Billy, they are both 14, it's puppy love at its finest. Danny doesn't know what to do with gay panic and Billy is just straight up "This man is my soul mate, he shall be mine." (Call iy Zeus bestowing more than just lightning)

The leauge is very concerned why Captain Marvel seems to have a seeming underage partner.

Superman squinting very hard and trying to figure this out: So...just how old is Phantom?

Billy, unaware how bad this looks: Oh I don't know honestly, it's kinda hard to tell with beings from the Realms! Though he died when he was 14!

Superman, gripping the table (which cracks a little) :And how exactly long has he been 14?

Billy, taking out his phone and flipping out pictures: Like I said, I don't really know how old he is, but there is Egyptain hieroglyphics of him! Look!

Superman, blinking at the very real looking pictures: Ahh. Fun cool cool cool...a-and how are you again Cap?

Billy mindlessly swiping the photos, excited to show off his boyfriend:Never said it, but he is definitely older than I am.

(Danny is older by a month, Billy calls him an old man for it.)

Billy gets to live full time in Danny's haunt in the Zone, Danny built him like the best house, Tucker and Sam get to meet Billy and they just are flabbergasted that Danny "I can't get a girl to date me or else she ends up wanting to kill me" Fenton has a boyfriend that has been going steady for a few months.

My brain sees like, Maddie and Jack are 100% backing Danny, they are fully supportive of their bi/gay/pan son, but in no way would they support him if he was a ghost, like they are organizing Amitys first ever Pride parade, but there is a shoot ghosts on sight order.

And just the reveal is like...

Danny gets finally tells them he is a ghost: if you start shooting me, your shooting the only Gay person you know, not very ally of you mom and Dad.

Maddie mouth open in horror: Oh no...Jack are...are we homophobic?

Jack sharing her look of fear: Great Scott...Dann-o a-are you sure...its...it's a life style right? Y-you chose this?

Danny, trying very, very hard not to laugh: It's not a life style dad! I didn't choose to Die!

Anyway, thank you for coming to my brain word vomit, I haven't slept in 20 hours.

[diy-dynamite]

Blissful Love

Mr. Crawling x Pregnant Reader || BLISSFUL LOVE LIFE ENDING

Requested by anon in my dms :3

I didn't know how to do this in story mode so I'm just doing this in the bullet point way idk what it's called 😭

Anyway since it's pregnancy I guess it's a fem reader bc I don't do mpreg. And idk much ab pregnancy so I chose not to include anythimh about the birthing process HELP . Hope this is fine!!

Mr. Crawly here does NOT remember the meaning of pregnancy, so you had to remind/teach him...

You: "... have human. Here." *points at his tummy*

Him: "oh! You hungry??"

It'll take you a good 2 hours until you give up. He won't understand it too much until he notices your stomach grow

Him: "Why... big?"

You: "BOY..????"

You had to hold up pictures for him to see. Like you nearly considered quitting being a serial killer and became a teacher instead because you had to scoop in the back of your mind to remember your old biology classes in order to teach him.

With the help of patience, painkillers, and a PowerPoint presentation with 41 slides, he finally gets it.

Turns out that he DOES know what pregnancy is. He just didn't know the term for it since recreating and respawning don't exactly exist amongst him and his kind.

He'd be the type to call it (your stomach) "little me", and would 100% be the kind of guy to lean his ear against it to try to hear his little one.

Whenever he does, he chirps and laughs. "Baby!" He'd squeal in the human tongue because you taught him so. "My baby!"

Later on, you couldn't go out and kill because of the baby. You never felt major pain, since the baby barely kicked—probably the effect of having a no-longer-human being as the father—but if you went out and killed, you'd be dragged down by what was growing inside you.

You'd think he was too kind to kill for a meal, and you'd think right. He just ate whatever raw, bloody animal meat you had leftover in the fridge. He didn't mind it—as long as you were alright.

His senses were already heightened when you weren't pregnant, so it'd just shoot through the roof now that you are.

If you want guests over, that's too bad. He's on FULL lockdown mode and WILL bite anyone who tries to intrude on your shared space.

Overall, he's a solid 9/10, just -1 because you had to put yourself through those high-school days where presentations were your sole responsibility.

[niteshade925]

April 20, Beijing, China, National Museum of China/中国国家博物馆 (Part 1 - Dehua white porcelain exhibition/德化白瓷展):

Aaand finally, the National Museum of China/中国国家博物馆! I was lucky enough to see the famed Dehua white porcelain exhibition/德化白瓷展 here. Some of you may recognize some of these pieces already, since pictures and shorts of them have been circulating online way before I went on this trip, but there are many many other pieces too. The pieces I post here are only a small portion of the entire exhibition, so if you ever get a chance to see the exhibition elsewhere in person, don't hesitate. This stuff is amazing.

First up is one of the two that has been gaining popularity online, the piece named 神话 or "Legend".

The first time I saw a porcelain piece like this, I thought that the clothing part was made with paper? But no, the light fabric of the clothing, the hair, it's all porcelain. Keep in mind when looking through these pictures: every part of every piece is porcelain.

This piece is the other one that was becoming popular, the piece named simply 纸, or "Paper". If you don't look up close and see the glossy surface, you can't tell it's actually porcelain. I cannot for the life of me imagine the kind of magic that was used to turn clay into this

Anyway, this is a good point to introduce Dehua porcelain a little bit. Dehua porcelain is a regional specialty of Dehua/德化, which is located in Fujian province, and is known for its expressiveness and white color. For this reason it's also known in the West as "Blanc de Chine" (French: "white of China"), and this should be the reason why this exhibition is named 中国白, which basically means the same thing. The history of Dehua porcelain goes back to Song dynasty (960 - 1279), and it is still being produced today. Many of the pieces I'm posting here are modern pieces.

But Dehua white porcelain can be colored too (I imagine the color must be painted on later, because the white comes from the clay itself), and when it is colored, it looks like it came right out of a painting

This piece is especially amazing to me. Look at the texture, look at those details. Zoom in and you will find that there are actually a bunch of porcelain ants on this porcelain tree stump. Porcelain ants. I never expected to use porcelain as an adjective when describing ants. Wtf. It's like a manifestation of a scene from an older animated movie.

Peanuts are called 花生 in Chinese, which literally means "flower grow", and because it also has a long shelf life, it symbolizes longevity and a happy marriage. Also a fun fact: because Watson of Sherlock Holmes is usually phoenetically translated as 华生 (huá shēng) in Chinese and sounds similar to 花生 (huā shēng), you will find that many in the Chinese SH fandom refers to Watson as "peanut".

This piece is titled 春色满园, or "garden filled with spring scenery". This is also a common 4-character word used to describe gardens in spring. I'm guessing the figure depicted here is one of the flower gods. It is one of my personal favorites because of its superb depiction of movement, it's as if the flower god will really fly away on clouds at any moment

More depictions of traditional Chinese deities, specifically Chang'e/嫦娥, the moon goddess. That moon rabbit is too cute.

Depictions of what I'm assuming is the Four Heavenly Kings/四大天王, based on the items they are holding. The Four Heavenly Kings are Buddhist deities.

Look at her clothing! That porcelain is so thin it's almost see-through! Also is it depicting Li Qingzhao/李清照, the famous female poet from Song dynasty? She does have a famous ci poem that's about paddling a boat in a lake full of lotuses while drunk

The piece titled 锦绣前程, or "future as vibrant and prosperous as silk brocade". This is also a common 4-character word used in well wishing. The figure in this piece is holding a xiuqiu/绣球, a ball made of silk, which was usually seen as a token of love

Somewhat more modern-themed pieces:

Among the hundreds of amazing pieces, this one caught my attention for its unique texture. When everyone else was trying to turn the clay into these thin sheets representing fabric or paper or flower petals, this artist took the noodle approach. Not many visitors seemed to like it, but I think it's pretty cool

Piece titled 运势如虹, or "fortune like the rainbow", also a 4-character word used in well wishing. Traditionally horses symbolize vitality and success, hence why many people use the words 马到成功 ("horse's arrival brings success") and 龙马精神 ("vitality of dragons and horses") in well wishes during Year of the Horse

Stay tuned for Part 2 of the Dehua white porcelain exhibition!

[fishyfishyfishtimes]

Daily fish fact #6 444 205

Fish!

The fish like to have a little drink :) Sadly as they drink the water around them they also drink their own pee, and that is the curse that they will have to live with for the rest of their life

#fish #fishfact #fish facts #fishblr #biology #zoology

( 2 notes )

🪼 clovergonads follow

Tasseled wobbegong women >>>>>>>>>>>

🐸 i-eat-skin follow

bitch those are goosefish

( 27,196 notes )

🐚 seashell-on-the-seashore follow

Say what you want about fishblr updates, but I think this format for reblubs is a wonderful improvement over the previous one. One of the only times staff did good.

🐚 seashell-on-the-seashore

@featherstar53 If reblub chains got too long, new reblubs would start appearing as darker and darker until you couldnt see the text anymore. It mimicked how light disappears as you go deeper in the ocean but the sunken code this webbedsite runs on never set a cap for how dark it gets, so eventually you would have to copy ad paste the text on the reblubs onto somewhere to read them.

🐍 swamplamprey follow

It sounds fake but it's true! You can still find some older fishblr post screenshots with this effect:

This even went for full abyssal mode users! In their case, the text would slowly turn from white to dark blue, effectively making it impossible to read against the black background.

🦞 fastest-claw-in-the-west follow

I think it would be super funny if they brought this back but for individual posts. Like the reblubs stay the same colour but the posts themselves get gradually and gradually darker until you can't see them anymore lol. It would be disastrous but also funny and it might finally stop some of you frys from being so addicted to this webbedsite

#im all for a bit of chaos lol #treasure trove: talking tag

( 730 notes )

🌿 invertlike-behaviour follow

Okay for the record. My eyes are Red because I'm a COMMON ROACH! RUTILUS RUTILUS! It's not because I smoke seaweed!

🌿 invertlike-behaviour

Okay Yes I smoke seaweed all day. But the specific reason my eyes are red is Not That

( 104 notes )

🦈 spiritually-placoderm follow

🫧 surgeonsturgeon follow

OP you forgot brackish water and the option for inhabiting both

🦈 spiritually-placoderm

Shut your inferior ass mouth up

🫧 surgeonsturgeon

#(i couldnt find the actual gif i wanted to use but this weird tiger shark will have to do) #(not sure why his fins look like that)

( 1,020 notes )

☀️ slenderfish follow

"ocean sunfish have over 40 parasite species" factoid actualy just statistical error. average ocean sunfish is infected with only one or two parasites. Parasites Georg, the mola who suffers from every ailment known to fish and has over 1 000 000 000 parasite species infesting his flesh and organs, is an outlier adn should not have been counted

( 193,239 notes)

🪷 trout-about-you follow

Selfieeeee :3 (ignore the two sea lampreys attached to my flesh)

🪲 toebiter follow

how did you take the picture you aren't holding your phone

🪷 trout-about-you

The sea lamprey on the left took it for me

( 58 notes )

🔲 salmonidae-supremacy-deactivated

FISH USED TO MIGRATE THOUSANDS OF MILES TO BREED. WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS!!!!

IN MY DAY PUSSFISH LIKE THIS WOULD GET EATEN ALIVE BY REAL RIVER MONSTERS FOR BREAKFAST.

🐟 darting-action follow

these are Siamese fighting fish bruh.... They don't have migration as part of their life cycle lmao

🔲 salmonidae-supremacy-deactivated

OF COURSE THE YOUTH CAN'T PUNCTUATE THEIR SENTENCES PROPERLY. I SHOULDN'T EXPECT SO MUCH FROM THE SOFT FRY THEY ARE. ALWAYS GETTING RILED UP!

🔲 skip-hopper-deactivated

Ignore this guy, @darting-action. He's well known for saying offensive nonsense like this, I think he's bait and trying to get someone to bite.

🔲 salmonidae-supremacy-deactivated

YOU MUST BE ONE OF THOSE INBRED DOMESTIC SCUM OR HATCHED YESTERDAY SINCE YOU ENTIRELY LACK THICK SCALES. I SPEAK THE TRUTH AND ONLY THE TRUTH. IF YOU GET TRIGGERED THEN THAT'S NATURAL SELECTION, SON. YOU SHOULD FIGHT ME IN REAL LIFE.

🔲 walrus-tits-in-my-mouth-deactivated

You really dont know a thing about natural selection, do you? Bettas have flashy fins because they have to seem threatening to possible competitors. They don't migrate so they aren't built for that. They're built for living in ponds and marshes, low oxygen environments, and by cod, they are built for fighting territorial battles! You shouldn't underestimate a fish literally called fighting fish. They're very tough and hardy fish and can even send larger fish fleeing!

🔲 salmonidae-supremacy-deactivated

SIAMESE FLAILING PUSSFISH HAVE LADY FINS BECAUSE THEY'RE WEAK AND SOFT AND HAD HUMANS DECIDE WHO THEY BREED WITH FOR THEM. THEIR QUOTE UNQUOTE "FIGHTING PROWESS" SURE DIDN'T SAVE THEM FROM BEING PRISSY LITTLE PRINCESS FISHIES FOR LITTLE KIDS DID IT? THE INDUBIDABLE FACT IS THAT THEY'RE MUSKIE FOOD.

🔲 iknowthecrabbypattysecretformula-deactivated

Wait a minute... I recongize that picture on the right! That's from @betta-than-this 's OnlyFins! How did you get that picutre hmmm? Salmonidae? How on Ocean did you gain access huh?

🐠 betta-than-this follow

"Indubidable" is a pretty specific word to use. This you @salmonidae-supremacy-deactivated?

🔲 iknowthecrabbypattysecretformula-deactivated

LMAOOOOOO GOTTEMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

🔲 aquarium-life-deactivated

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

🐟 darting-action

woag i never saw this entire chain before until it hit me on my dashboard. Why does this have so many notes

Thanks fishblr user walrus tits in my mouth for biology info i didn't know

🫖 burgle-the-turts follow

Woah woah woah we're just gonna ignore this guy using p*ssfish as an insult!!???? THE CATFISH SLUR????????? No one is going to bring this up!!!!!???????

🔲 tilapia11128-deactivated

does anyone in this thread smoke seaweed

🌊 herringageposts follow

date of origin: 28th of august, 2017

( 392,229 notes )

🟧 sponsored

Suffering all alone, handsome?

No need to anymore.

👄 pollywannacracker follow

Reblub with your favorite snack in the tags! I’ll go first: coral polyps! :}

🚬 shark-noir follow

@ninjalantern-999

#as for me #my fave is definitely my lower set of teeth when they shed #crumchy :D

( 295 notes )

🩸 must-lunge follow

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA STUPID HUMAN DROPPED ITS ELECTRONIC CAMERA IN THE LAKE!!!!!!!! NEVER GETTING THAT BACK BUB!!!!!! I'M TELLING ALL MY ISOPOD AND MUSSEL FRIENDS AND THEY'RE GONNA LIVE INSIDE IT!!!!!

🧑 official-human-posts follow

ofishal human post

#ofishal human post #this post contains humans

( 891 notes )

🦦 hellofromtheotterslide follow

Wait, how come this site is called fishblr and not something like oceanblr or aquablr? Wouldn't that be more inclusive?

👑 goldielocks follow

I believe the name "fishblr" pays homage to the meaning of the word where just about everything in the water was considered a fish. It's why we have words like "shellfish", "whalefish", "jellyfish", "starfish".

Personally aquablr would work really well, too. There's a sizeable amphibious userbase on here.

🦐 worldwideshrimp follow

You forgot whale shark! Those arent fish either but are called fish

👑 goldielocks

....Whale sharks are fish. They are sharks. It's in the name.

🦎 eye-of-newt follow

But I thought it was a whale named after sharks? WHALE shark! Why else would they put whale up first?

👑 goldielocks

A whale named after a shark would be called a shark whale. You can take one look at a whale shark and see that, with its gills and fish tail, it is a shark.

⚪️ number1-seacucumber-ass-enjoyer-77 follow

Wait, then what about baby whales? Are those whales named after babies?

👑 goldielocks

If you're talking about the actual whale babies, then yeah. If you mean the mormyrids, small aquatic animals that can sense electricity, then no, those are fish. Sometimes names are inaccurate to what the animal really is.

🌌 themanta1234 follow

If you think about it, fishblr is also inclusive to aquatic tetrapods since they are lobe-fins, and therefore fish :D It's a term that can include everyone on here, the perfect catchall!

🦑 abyssal-gigantism follow

Ewwww fuck that definition. If mammals hear about them being fish on some sort of """"technicality"""" then this webbedsite is gonna get flooded with those self-important idiots! "OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOOOOO LoOk At MeEeEeEeEEE i'M a MaMmAL!!11!!! I TAKE CARE of mah BAAABIEEEES!1111 I'm SUCH a good MAMAAA!!! All those OTHER STUPID HEARTLESS ANIMALS could NEVER do as I DO!!! I LOVE sweating into my BAABIEEEES' MOUTH1!1!1!111!!! I'm FLUFFY and AWSUM and ERRYBODDY LUUUVSSSSS MEE!!!!!!!!!!111!!!!!!! You should all LUV me TOO!!!!"

Is THAT how you want every fishblr post to look!!!!??????

🦛 drippohippo follow

😨

🪄 magicmanatee45 follow

DD:

🎼 humpbacked-musician-offishal follow

:'''((((

🐋 blainvilles-bitch follow

🕶️ egg-laying-mammal-of-action follow

:///////////

🐢 greenXD follow

i think jellyfish shouldn't be classified as fish because they're clearly living spaghetti

🌜 foolish-idol follow

Great fucking post everyone. Hit the air bubblers

( 60,376 notes )

🟩 ultrahyva-heihoi follow

Guys what the fuck kind of sponsors does fishblr have I just saw an ad for having parasites housed in me who are they advertising to 😭💀💀

#i swear the quality of this site keeps going down and down #if you see ads for parasites then report the shit out of em #fuck em my friend got early onset cataracts due to parasites

( 4 notes )

😃 doweopenandcloseourmouthtoday follow

Yes! :) :O :) :O :) :O :) :O

[rafesangelita]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ kook!sweetheart!reader walks her first runway for her own lingerie brand, and of course rafe has a front row seat.

warnings: rafe being a supportive bf, suggestive ending

a/n: trying a new fic layout, i hope you all like it as much as i do <3 lol i had the hardest time trying to decide on the song i wanted to use for this fic

you couldn’t believe the day was finally here. ever since you started your lingerie line, you wanted to have a runway show to showcase the beautiful pieces, and all thanks to rafe, he was able to make that possible. while your boyfriend insisted on being backstage with you, you told him to wait until you walked out for the finale, wanting to surprise him in full glam and a set you have yet to release. to say you were excited would be an understatement— you were literally having your very own victoria secret show.

with fashion bloggers, magazine editors, and most importantly; rafe, the man who believed in you more than yourself, being in attendance, you just wanted everything to take place smoothly. “oh my god, you look amazing!” you glanced up from the small vanity mirror, meeting kelce’s girlfriend’s gaze. “me?!” your eyes widened as you shot up from your seat. “look at you! kelce is going to lose his mind.” you laughed, admiring the way her makeup sparkled under the studio lights.

“you think so?” she smiled, both of you swallowing nervously when you heard a ‘okay, we’re on in five!’ over one of the staff’s walkie talkie’s. “oh, god, just what i needed to hear.” you joked. she hugged you before joining the rest of the girls in line. outside in the crowd, rafe was already taking pictures like a proud facebook mom, shushing kelce and topper once the lights dimmed and the music started. the intro to britney spear’s ‘gimme more’ began playing, the crowd letting out a series of ‘oooh’s’ and ‘ahhh’s’ when the first model walked out.

rafe was only recording for your sake, his eyes strictly set on his hands as he patiently waited for your entrance. everything that the models were wearing was something he had already seen on you behind closed doors. rafe couldn’t help but feel his chest bloom with pride as he looked around the beautiful venue. despite him paying for everything, you were the one who worked with the planner and coordinator to bring your vision to life.

and what a vision it was.

you had spotlights lining the runway, glitter littering the glossy flooring. various props were also placed on the sidelines. “look, here comes y/n!” rafe arched a brow at his friend, kelce clearing his throat awkwardly. “don’t get too excited, now..” rafe grumbled, eyes locked on your silhouette. the music reached it’s final bridge, your lingerie clad body illuminating the stage. rafe had no words. you were wearing wings like the angel you truly were, the rhinestones and embellishments on your set reflecting under the now multicolored lighting.

“you’re beautiful, babygirl!” rafe shouted, his eyes widening as you got closer. you looked ethereal. not one hair was out of place, your makeup done flawlessly to enhance your natural features. you caught sight of him, sending a wink his way before blowing him a kiss. “she’s getting it tonight.” he held a hand over his heart, watching the way your hips swayed as cameras flashed from every direction. rafe stayed standing up until you disappeared behind the stage, his smile reaching from ear to ear.

“now that’s a show..” he adjusted himself in his pants, posting you on his instagram with the caption; ‘she’s perfect.’

eventually, the event came to a star strucking end, your boyfriend meeting you soon after with a huge bouquet of pink roses. you couldn’t help the sudden wave of emotions from washing over you at the sight of him. “oh, rafe!” you threw yourself into his arms, being careful not to ruin your makeup. “you were so amazing out there, baby.” he rubbed your back. “yeah?” you pulled away, pecking his lips. “fuck yeah.” his voice dropped a few octaves, his hand finding the curve of your ass. “can you take those angel wings home?” he whispered.

“yes.. why?” you smiled mischievously. “cause i need you to walk for me again. naked this time.”

[writingsonsaturn]

Tim having a younger girlfriend who gets princess treatment from him, she very obviously in love with Tim, and nobody at the station believes he has a girlfriend, so one day she shows up and work and everyone gets to see and meet her and see just how much she has Tim wrapped around her finger <3

Sorry if it doesn't make sense

puppy love - tim bradford

{ masterlist }

🪐: hopefully this lives up to what you were thinking!! i did my best to capture all the main elements that you wanted in the story <33

word count: 1039

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Tim was notorious for being a hardass, his rough demeanor and strict ways of teaching made him seem like a total douchebag, for lack of a better word.

However, for you, he was a ball of sunshine, just don't let anyone else know that. 

Tim was awoken to the deafening sound of his alarm clock, he looked over at the red numbers, the clock reading “6:00am”, he sighed and reached a hand over to turn the blaring sound off. He turned over at the movement of your sleeping body, his hand now brushing through your hair with a small smile on his lips, waking up wasn't so bad when he got to see your face every morning.

You woke up gently at the new warmth that was on your head, “do you have to leave today?” you whispered with annoyance, one eye looking at him while the other stayed shut hoping to retain some sleep “unfortunately i do, baby, but i'll be home in time for our date” he responds, leaning over and kissing your forehead. 

He gets out of bed and heads for the closet putting on his uniform, once he’s done getting ready he reaches for his duty belt and gun that he keeps in his nightstand. Finally he leans over to give you one last kiss goodbye, “i love you, i’ll text you on break” you felt his lips move, “i love you too, be safe and come home to me” you respond as he walks out of the room gently shutting the door.

You shortly go back to sleep to get extra shuteye before having to go to your 9:00 am psychology class.

===

Tim made it to work early, going into the locker room and putting his duffle bag full of extra clothes and little snacks that you had snuck in there “just in case”, once he left the locker room he made his way to the debriefing room. “Hey Tim, you still owe me the 13 bucks for that burrito i bought you last week” Angela points out, while walking in behind him “ah right” he groans pulling out his wallet simply forgetting the little photo he kept of you in there.

The photo fell on the ground as Tim pulled out the cash, Angela reached down holding the picture “who is that?” she wonders while looking at the piece of paper “my girlfriend” he responds while holding out the $13, “you? You have a girlfriend?” she jokes “yeah, and i'm a millionaire” she finished sarcastically and walked away to sit down in her seat.

Tim just silently rolled his eyes and put your photo back in the safety of his wallet, after Grey gave his briefing, Angela and Nyla both started talking about Tim’s “girlfriend” the others overheard and suddenly everyone knew about Tim’s private life. 

“Tim has a girlfriend?” Lucy questioned, while walking over the group and grinning. “That’s what he claims, when he was paying me back a photo slipped out of his wallet and when i asked who it was he said it was his girlfriend, but i don't know who would torture themselves like that” she explained, Nolan had his eyebrows raised “come on guys, Tim can’t be that bad” Nolan continued “he probably just doesn't like us” he smiled making the others laugh. 

“Okay! Are you guys ready to stop being a bunch of highschoolers and gossiping about my love life so we can, I don't know, do our job?” Tim dead panned, they all quietly snickered, and some started getting ready to head out.

Tim heard the faint call of his name, and fast feet, “Tim! you forgot your lunch!” you spoke quickly while softly jogging towards him. “That’s what i forgot, thank you baby” Tim mentally smacked himself for forgetting the meal you had prepared for him the night before. You smiled at him, rushing as you had to get back to the campus as you had a final in 45 minutes.

Everyone looked slightly gobsmacked, realizing that Tim was in fact not lying about having a girlfriend, Angela came up to the love sick couple, “so you’re the pretty lady Tim keeps in his wallet” she spoke with playfulness, “you must be Angela! Tim talks about you all the time, im (Y/N)” you introduced yourself with a big smile. Tim smiled at you with all the love in the world, looking at you while you introduced yourself to his friends and colleagues. 

“As much as i would absolutely love talking to you guys more, i have a really important test i have to go take” you explained with haste, everyone was extremely understanding and wished you good lucks, “One last thing, Tim, before you come home will you please pick up milk from the store? I used it all this morning” everyone looked at Tim awaiting his response “Yes ma’am” he complied, you kissed his cheek and gave everyone a last goodbye before leaving.

“Man she has you utterly whipped” Aaron spoke, while shaking his head, “yeah, you are so done for sir” Celina giggled. Tim looked at both of them with a stern face immediately making them shut up and get back to doing whatever they were doing. 

“I'm glad you found someone Tim, you deserve a good person” Lucy quietly mentioned, Tim gave a silent nod of acknowledgement letting Lucy know that what she said meant a lot to him as she left and continued on with her duties.

Tim carried on with his day, doing paperwork, and counting the minutes until he came home to you.

Once he got off of work, he made sure he picked up milk and even got you you're favorite snack, as soon as he got home you two made dinner together and sat at the kitchen table, you told him how you’re very sure you passed your final with flying colors, and he told you about the mountains of paperwork that made him wish he was in bed watching a stupid reality show with you instead. 

When it was time for bed you and Tim continued to talk about random thoughts, and your futures together before you both drifted into a peaceful sleep.