#renees writing
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Tonight I am thinking about Kevin trying to buy a postcard during an away game at Texas. Going into the airport gift shop and coming back with a bag.
With nothing else to do during a long layover, the other foxes notice and ask why he’s suddenly buying postcards. Maybe Nicky takes the bag and pulls out the singular card. It’s got the outline of Texas on it, and unable to resist making a stupid joke, Nicky says,
“Thea’s never been to Texas?”
Kevin’s of course annoyed by this and takes the bag back without saying anything. Andrew, who’s nervous in airports and not opposed to starting a bit of drama cuts in and says,
“It’s for Jean, not Thea.” He was, after all, there the last time Kevin bought a postcard.
Nothing shuts the foxes up faster than the reminder that Kevin actually has a soul. Despite his best efforts and a “fuck you Andrew,” from Kevin, it’s Renee who smiles. She holds out her hand for the bag which Andrew swipes using his good arm and hands to her.
She studies the front of the postcard then gets up and walks to the same store to buy a different one. Neil catches her while she browses and asks her what she’s looking for. He makes a mental note of their conversation.
Two weeks later Jean receives two postcards from Texas. One from Kevin and one from Renee. It upsets him that Kevin said anything to anyone else about it but he hangs both of them up.
When Neil and Andrew finally take a short trip for a holiday break, Neil buys a postcard from a rest stop in Atlanta and sends it to Jean.
Jean almost drops this one in the sink.
“Neil?!” Cat asks, “oh my god, is he actually nice?”
“No.” Jean replies though he puts the postcard on the wall next to the other ones.
Between the three of them, Jean’s wall fills up. He meets the mail with excitement and hunger instead of dread now.
Renee sends one from Stephanie’s house with the the words, “you know, you could send one back.”
#aftg#writing#tgr spoilers#the golden raven#the golden raven spoilers#all for the game#jean moreau#kevin day#the sunshine court#neil josten#renee walker
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So insane about the platonic relationships in wolf 359. The way the character writing is so strong they don’t need to rely on romance to make any connection convincing, compelling, and above all else fucked up and codependent.
The way Eiffel and Minkowski just Get each other, regardless of their previous hatred of each other. We go from Minkowski hating Eiffel’s guts (valid) to them truly needing each other. With them being the only two they can rely on in deep space, it makes such a compelling narrative that has you questioning whether they would even be friends in any other universe. The way their stories work, they could even be your classic enemies to lovers (looking past some marriages and how their characters just. Aren’t.) but wolf 359 shows us that they don’t need that relationship status to have one of the most compelling and delightfully codependent friendships in the podcast. We get Hera squeeling over them calling each other “friends” for the first time, (same, hera, same), narratively treating them with the same level of respect as you would a romantic pairing.
Maxwell and Jacobi hit this similar beat for me, they have no romantic tension but have grown this reliance and deep trust in each other. The scene where Maxwell slaps Jacobi what has to be like 7 times in a row and cusses him out for flaking on her before they dissolve into giggles really defines their relationship to me. They’re horrible people. They know it. They’re monsters. Together. And besties yay! In other media their relationship may take a backseat, and while theirs isn’t the forefront it’s certainly never minimized in impact on their individual characters. These two go together, need each other. (They’re a set do not separate)
I’d even extend this to commonly headcanoned romantic duos like Kepler/jacobi and Hera/eiffel. The podcast doesn’t rely on romance, even if there’s implication, but gives us the strongest damned character relationships. The best possible use of characters in each others own and intertwined stories. The bone chillingly good codependency that can only be built by truly Knowing a person, even the horrible bits. Even liking the horrible bits. If this isn’t peak fucking over relationship anarchy I don’t know what is.
#diversity win! your codependent horrible fucked up bad influences are besties!!#wolf 359#I could write essays on how good the character and relationship writing in wolf 359 is#obviously. from this post.#this was spurred by the end of episode 44#’let’s go be monsters’ HELLO IM GIING INSANE#me when the character and they do character thing#w359#alana maxwell#doug eiffel#warren kepler#daniel jacobi#renee minkowski#hera wolf 359#the character#rambling to the void here but damn this podcast is so good I adore when romance isn’t used as a crutch in relationship writing#aspec things
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Drunken confessions II Katie McCabe x Reader
romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | word count: 1562
summary: After Arsenal’s UWCL win, Reader and Katie celebrate privately. But at the fan celebrations, a drunk Katie announces their relationship to the world. requested
author's note: hi everyone, this will be our second last fanfic about the UWCL final, after that there will be another one with Renée Slegers. Enjoy ! 🤍❤️
disclaimer: everything in this fanfiction is purely fictional and nothing corresponds to reality.
The final whistle echoed through the stadium. Players dropped to the ground, whether it was from exhaustion, relief or frustration. The Arsenal fans erupted into deafening cheers. Their team had just beaten Barcelona in the Champions League Final.
You stood frozen in the middle of the pitch, catching your breath, barely able to comprehend what had just happened. Suddenly, you were sandwiched in a tight hug between Lotte and Alessia.
“I can’t believe it! We won! Against Barcelona!”, Lotte shouted, bouncing with excitement.
Alessia, on your side, added with a beaming face: “We did it!”
You shook your head in disbelief, trying to take everything in.
“Everyone was unreal today.”, you agreed, ecstatic.
Lotte grinned and ruffled your hair: “Especially you.”
“Honestly!”, Chloe chimed in, appearing out of nowhere to squeeze you from behind.
“Stop, girls. You’re making me blush.”, you protested with a laugh, wriggling out of their arms.
But Chloe just shot you an evil grin: “Good.”
“Good?”, you echoed, pretending to be offended.
Chloe smirked: “Yes, you look pretty with a blush and tonight you’re in need of a good fu-…”
She didn’t get the chance to finish. Your jaw dropped in shock, and you let out an embarrassed squeal.
“Chlo, not in front of the children!”, you hissed, nodding toward Rosa and Katie Reid who were just strolling past you arm in arm.
Chloe rolled her eyes: “They don’t know what I’m talking about.”
You quickly changed the topic, nodding toward the rest of the team as they moved toward the stands to thank the fans: “It’s time to celebrate now anyway.”
Subconsciously, your eyes scanned the pitch, looking for one particular person.
The celebrations on the pitch were incredible, but after the medals were awarded, the party moved inside the stadium for your own private party as a team.
Jess Glynne was performing, and you were dancing with Alessia, both of you buzzing with adrenaline.
“This is so fun. I still can’t believe it.”, you shouted over the music.
The striker nodded: “Me neither. One of the best nights ever.”
She turned to Lotte, waving her over: “Lotte, come and join us.”
“Coming.”, Lotte called, setting her glass down on a table and joined your little circle.
“Perfect.”, you grinned at her.
Until someone tapped your shoulder.
You turned around, suddenly standing face to face with Katie.
The Irish woman’s lips formed a perfect pout: “Hey. I didn’t get to celebrate with you at all tonight.”
“Sorry.”, you said.
While Jess sang Hold My Hand, Katie leaned in and whispered: “Let’s leave.”
“Yes, please.”, you replied, already smiling.
She laced her fingers through yours and pulled you from the crowd: “Come on.”
“Coming.”, you responded, letting her lead the way.
A laugh slipped out as you both ran through the hotel corridors. You tightened your grip on her hand: “Someone’s in a hurry.”
“Yeah, I am.”, she wasn’t shy to confess this, breathless and grinning.
“Lucky for you, love, you don’t have to wait any longer.”, you murmured, swinging open the door to your room.
Katie stepped inside and spun towards you, pressing a hungry kiss to your lips. She smiled against your mouth: “Good.”
You matched her kiss with growing heat, hands roaming instinctively to her waist.
The door clicked shut behind you.
You didn’t bother with the lights.
Her fingers found the hem of your shirt, slipping underneath as she pressed herself closer. Her breath was warm against your cheek as she mumbled: “Missed this.”
You smirked into her kiss: “Then don’t wait.”
You stumbled back towards the bed, tangled together in touches and low laughter, clothes gradually giving way to skin. The air between you grew heavier, charged. Her mouth was everywhere, slow, deliberate.
You gave in to her, to the moment, to the way everything else faded when it was just the two of you, celebrating the biggest moment of your careers together.
But the celebrations didn’t stop there, they had only just begun.
By Monday, your team was celebrating the trophy win with thousands of fans outside the Emirates Stadium. A sea of red and white stretched out before you. The air buzzed with chants, cheers, and the hum of pure, unfiltered joy.
Your heart melted at the sight of children in oversized jerseys, some bearing your name, other your teammates'. Their smiles were as wide as the banners waving above them.
You burst into laughter when you spotted Renée striking her iconic pose: cigar in mouth, just like that old photo from her Rosengård days.
“Oh my God, Renée.”, you called out, grinning.
“That’s our coach!”, Katie shouted, practically bouncing on the spot. She was living for this , the noise, the people, the madness, the life of the party in human form.
You smirked: “It is.”
“Fuck yeah!”, your girlfriend added, eyes gleaming with pride and maybe still a little drunk. You weren’t sure she’d sobered up at all since Saturday night.
But the crowd adored the brunette for it. And honestly, so did you.
Admittedly, Katie brought the party to the stage. But you had to intervene when she leaned over the barricade in front of the stage, letting the trophy dangle precariously in front of the fans.
“Katie!”, you shouted, immediately grabbing her arm and forcing her to pull the trophy back on stage.
“I’m good, I won’t drop it.”, she only laughed, completely unbothered.
“Sure.”, you said, raising your eyebrows, slightly relaxing now that the trophy was safely back on stage.
Katie turned to you, still grinning: “You can fucking trust me.”
You ignored her, placing the trophy into the safe hands of one of your goalkeepers. But when you turned back around, Katie had somehow gotten hold of a microphone and was now yelling something at the fans.
You cringed but let her continue for a few minutes.
“Okay, that’s enough. Let me hand that to another girl…”, you said gently, reaching for the microphone after another display of how drunk she actually was.
Katie shielded it quicker than you expected, shaking her head adamantly: “No. Let me talk to them!”
With a sigh you lifted your hands in defeat: “Okay, fine. One last song and then Lee will get the microphone, do you hear me?”
Leah just smirked from behind you: “Let her have fun.”
“But she’s so drunk. It’s a bit embarrassing.”, you laughed.
“Now everyone listen up!”, Katie suddenly yelled into the mic, way louder than necessary.
“Oh god.”, you muttered under your breath.
Leah shrugged: “It’s better than her trying to wrestle Kim.”
You chuckled: “Good point, poor Kimmy.”
You looked over to your captain but thankfully, she seemed to be enjoying herself.
“Y/n, come here!”, Katie’s voice suddenly rang out over the mic.
You froze: “What? Why?”
“Just come here.”, she urged again.
Slowly, you made your way over to her. “Okay?”
She wrapped her free arm around you, pulling you in close and shouted into the mic: “This is the girl that I love. My girlfriend!”
She planted a kiss to your cheek while your heart dropped for a second, like you missed a step on a staircase.
It went quiet for what felt like an eternity, only broken by the gasps of fans and your teammates alike. Until suddenly, the crowd bursted out into cheers.
You could feel the blood rushing into your cheeks.
You slapped her lightly on the arm: “Katie!” Not sure if you were actually mad at her or not.
She looked way too pleased with herself and handed the mic off: “Now Leah can have the mic.”
“You definitely had enough drinks to last days,” you said, suppressing a smile.
Your girlfriend chuckled: “For days? Don’t be dramatic. I’m Irish.”
“Yeah, I saw you and Emma proudly declaring your love for Ireland at the party.”, you recalled. The former goalkeeper had been a mentor to the defender for a long time now and was someone she now called a close friend.
Theatrically, Katie pressed a hand to her heart and solemnly declared: “Ireland, Arsenal, and you.”
At that moment, you wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole. “That’s it, we’re going straight home afterwards.”, you muttered.
The Irishwoman rolled her eyes: “Boring.”
Her declaration of love hadn’t gone unnoticed by your teammates, who were burning with curiosity.
It was Leah who spoke up first, demanding answers: “No, first of all, you need to tell us everything! Why didn’t you tell us you were dating?!”
“You lot are noisy and annoying.”, Katie muttered.
“And you’re a lightweight. I’m never letting you live that cheesy line down.”, the blonde shot back.
Calmly, Lia looked up from her phone: “I don’t think you’ll have to. It’s already all over social media.”
Katie grinned, clearly pleased with herself. She tightened her arms around your shoulders: „Good, because this girl here belongs to me.” “I think we all got that now.”, Leah remarked, smiling.
That evening, your bedroom was filled with laughter and low light from the fairy lights. You turned to meet your girlfriend’s gaze: “I love you, you annoying idiot.”
“I know.”, she answered smugly.
Your lips met in a kiss, from which you broke away, swearing: “Jesus, you need to brush your teeth again!”
Katie just laughed, pulling you back in: “Get over it, you love me.”
And, despite everything, you really, really did.
#katie mccabe#katie mccabe x reader#katie mccabe imagine#woso#woso community#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso x reader#woso oneshot#woso one shot#arsenal wfc#arsenal wfc x reader#arsenal wfc imagine#woso x y/n#awfc#awfc x reader#awfc imagine#alessia russo#lotte wubben moy#renee slegers#chloe kelly#leah williamson#lia walti#woso blurbs#wlw writing#woso appreciation#irewnt#woso fanfic#woso fic
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911 what is your pride (week 4; sex & romance)
@911whatisyourpride thank you for running this project 💖🌈
bucktommy, 1k a short future coda to drag bingo night at shelley's (tumblr) leaning heavy on the romance here! this coda is now on the ao3!
---
It's been two months since Evan invited him out to drag bingo night, and a month since they decided to give their relationship another try. That's why Tommy's parked outside the 133 at 7:45 AM, his truck packed for their first weekend away. Ever.
This time last year they were together and every time they talked about a romantic getaway, they would end up in bed before either of them could suggest a place to go. Just the idea of getting away was a thrill; a year later, they were starting to understand the value of actually getting away.
His watch alarm lets him know it's 7:50 and Evan will be done with his shift any minute. Tommy's losing time and losing his nerve for this—this stupid little—
"You're an idiot," Tommy says to himself as he climbs out of the truck. "You've flown helicopters through combat zones and wildfires and a goddamned hurricane, but picking up your boyfriend from work, somehow that's scarier. Somehow. Somehow."
Yeah, but if you crash and burn in those scenarios, you only die once, his brain helpfully reminds him. Embarrassing yourself in front of your boyfriend and his coworkers—that's forever.
"Forever? If I'm lucky," Tommy mumbles under his breath as he jogs across the street.
The 133's bay doors are open and both the A-shift and B-shift crews are milling around, saying hi and catching up before they go their separate ways. Tommy looks around for familiar faces, but only sees Cristy as she laughs with a couple of people, and Captain Mehta, clapping the B-shift captain on the shoulder as he leaves his office.
And then there's Evan, half-hidden behind one of the engines with a handful of people. Something makes him laugh uproariously, full-body doubled-over laughter that has him wiping his eyes when he straightens up again. That's when he spots Tommy and waves wildly at him from all of 15 feet away.
"Tommy! Oh my god, Tommy." Evan drops his duffel bag unceremoniously and crosses the floor to him. "Hey, can I introduce you?" Evan asks quietly.
"What? Oh. Yeah, yeah of course."
"Okay, great," Evan whispers, pulling him into a giant hug with a kiss on the cheek. Then he turns around and yells, inches from Tommy's ear: "Hey, everyone, this is my boyfriend, Tommy!"
Cristy laughs loudly. "Tommy Kinard from Harbor Station, were you lurking behind that ambulance? Get in here."
He gives her a quick hug and waves at everyone, trying not to feel like a pageant contestant who's been called on stage to perform his special talent. Evan distracts him, though, as he points to something in Tommy's hand. "Tommy, what's that?" Evan asks, his smile lighting him from the inside. "Is that for me?"
And that's when Tommy remembers what had him ready to crumble from embarrassment in the truck, why it took him so long to actually leave the truck and come get Evan. It's the fully bloomed, dark and rich red rose that Tommy had seen growing off a rosebush as he was leaving his own shift at Harbor. It was from a random wild rosebush that didn't belong to anyone, so no one would mind if Tommy took out his pocket knife and cut one to bring to Evan.
"It's for you," Tommy says, holding it out to him. "Sorry, I—I feel really silly coming in here with like—like I'm on The Bachelor or something, or picking you up for prom, but I saw this on my way over and thought—I thought you might like it."
Evan accepts it with a smile. He looks at it and brushes the petals against his fingers before he holds it out to Tommy again. "Touch the petals, they're so soft. I think that's the best part of flowers. My favorite part, anyway." Tommy touches the petals, too, and their eyes meet as their fingers brush together, touching the rose.
"I love it," Evan says, and throws his arms around Tommy's neck, right there in front of the captains and firefighters and paramedics and anyone walking on the sidewalk past the bay doors. Anyone and everyone can see; it feels so good to hold Evan like this in his arms.
"Thank you," Evan says, his voice gentle, almost a whisper.
Tommy almost says, for what, it's just a flower, but he knows them both better than that. He pulls away and brushes a few stray curls from Evan's forehead, then kisses him. It's quick and chaste (only one whooooo from the crew), but Evan looks at him with those dark eyes and the dazed expression he seems to save for him, for Tommy. They could stay in this spot for years if Tommy's watch didn't beep for the top of the hour.
"Shift's over," Tommy says. "Ready for our road trip?"
"Yeah," Evan says, "wait, yeah, just a second." He slings his duffel bag across his chest and then grabs Tommy's hand to lead him out the bay doors. He waves goodbye to everyone and then holds the rose up to Tommy's face. "I think I've got everything. How about you?"
Some past Tommy would howl and kick his ass at what present Tommy's about to say, but that past Tommy didn't have Evan in his life. Past Tommy could stay quiet and learn a thing or two, like how to be happy. It was a skill, a real thing he and Evan were learning to do, and sometimes it meant small gestures that felt like the whole world.
"Well, I've got you," Tommy says. "I think that's all I need."
Evan looks taken aback, then blushes and lightly shoulder checks him. "Yeah, okay," he mumbles, but he can't hide his grin. As they climb in the truck and buckle up, Evan leans over and kisses him again—they can't hide a damn thing.
#911 fic#bucktommy#bucktommy fic#tevan#tevan fic#my writing#my fic#evan buckley#tommy kinard#911whatisyourpride#most of this was written listening to the cathy parts of 'goodbye until tomorrow' from 'the last five years'#off-broadway sherie rene scott recording only
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We can’t go backward. There are too many regrets. Please just move forward with me?
Renee Carlino, Swear on This Life: A Novel
#Renee Carlino#motivation#quotes#poetry#literature#relationship quotes#writing#original#words#love#relationship#thoughts#lit#prose#spilled ink#inspiring quotes#life quotes#quoteoftheday#love quotes#poem#aesthetic
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Sometimes we have to travel to unknown places to find things we didn’t know we’d lost, and to repair parts of us we didn’t know were broken.
Holly Renee Miller
#Holly Renee Miller#motivation#quotes#poetry#literature#relationship quotes#writing#original#words#love#relationship#thoughts#lit#prose#spilled ink#inspiring quotes#life quotes#quoteoftheday#love quotes#poem#aesthetic
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messy / regina george
PAIRING regina george x fem!reader
SUMMARY you and regina have been secretly hooking up for months, but she breaks up with you when you ask for more. after she gets hit by a bus, you fear for her life and whatever relationship you have left.
TAGS regina george x fem!reader, hurt/comfort, angst, happy ending, queer!, reneé rapp is so fine 😫😫, internalized homophobia, use of d-slur (lesbian slur)
QUOTE "half of all my exes regret me, / but none of them will ever forget me, / loving me gets really messy," - messy by reneé rapp
WRITTEN 1.13.2024
WORD COUNT 1.3K
A/N everytime reneé showed up on screen, i literally started banging my fists against my seat because she SERVED CUNT!!!! SHE WAS SO FINE!!!! literally after the movie, my best friend said to me: "i think you're just gay. i think you're a woman kisser. you might just have a little fruit in your cup."
slammed up against the wall, you felt regina's teeth clash furiously against yours. it was all hot passion - how your lips ran feverishly against hers as though you'd never get to feel her touch again, the way her hands ran up and down the sides of your body as though she needed to memorize the shape of you. days the two of you had gone without a moment to yourselves. days you had spent fantasizing about her pressing you up against the wall. it wasn't that you didn't want a normal relationship. it wasn't that you didn't want to kiss and hold hands and go on cute dates, but . . . that wasn't regina's style. she was closeted. heavily. actually, you weren't sure that she even understood that making out with girls was perhaps the most gay thing she could do, but you were willing to take what you were given. it was regina george, after all.
she pulled away from you by biting gently down on your lip, letting go when she could no longer stretch it any longer. "god, you're so hot," she whispered with a smirk, unbuttoned the first two buttons of your shirt. she reclaimed the control she had over your body, pressing her lips to your collarbone. your hands somehow found their way to her beautiful blond locks, scraping her scalp with the sharp edge of your nails. fantasy was nothing like reality. you had forgotten how good it felt, but how terrible it was all at once. as her warm breath tickled your skin, doubts that had been haunting you the past few days filled your mind slowly. was this healthy? didn't you deserve a healthy queer relationship, one that would be open and free and full of love, real love?
you wanted it all. you wanted the life you saw other queer girls have all around the world. going on cute picnic dates with homeade muffins and favorite books, sitting in the lap of your partner and doing their makeup, snuggling on the couch while watching a movie. holding hands while strolling the town center. it was hard to keep these thoughts back any longer. they overflowed.
you felt regina freeze as you gently pushed her away from where she had latched onto your upper chest. "can we, um, talk?" you ask. she could hear the tone in your voice. you knew she could. the way her eyes met yours made your stomach twist with discomfort.
"talk?" she asked in an incredulous tone, pulling away.
"it's just that, well, hear me out first. i like you. i really like you, a lot! that's why i really want us to be more than . . . making out in the custodian's closet after school and sneaking into your room while your mom's asleep," you explained nervously, stumbling over your words. finally able to meet her eyes, all hope was shattered as you felt her icy stare fixed upon your flushed face.
"i thought we made a deal when we started this. nothing more than this." she barked out a bitter laugh and fluffed out her hair. "what, did you think i was some kind of dyke or something? this was supposed to be fun. nice job stamping out that fire." she opened the door to the closet and waltzed out like nothing had happened. as if you didn't spend the entire last three months building a bond. heart: broken.
-
fear couldn't describe the emotion you felt driving to the hospital. it was gut-wrenching, blood-curdling, heart-tearingly excruciating. the rumors swirling around made your sick with worry. could she really be dead?
you weren't there when it happened. you had been driving home and then doing homework, hiding your phone away in a drawer somewhere to keep you distracted. it wasn't until hours later that you checked your notifications to realize she had been admitted to the er.
you rushed into the hospital, demanding to hear about her condition.
"are you immediate family?" the nurse at the desk asked. of course you lied. of course you said yes. she gave you the room number and told you that you could wait in the hall - the doctors were talking with her mother and you would need to wait until she woke up herself.
when you arrived at the door to her room, you were afraid to look inside. you weren't sure why. she was alive, yes. maybe you were afraid she was still upset with you. or worse, she had amnesia and forgot about you completely. dejected, you collapsed into the very comfortable plastic chair next to her room.
a few minutes later, the door opened and the doctors and mrs. george exited the room. you stood up suddenly, expectant in your expression.
"she's fine. she's going to heal 100%, she just needs to wear a corrective neck bracelet for several weeks," the doctors assured you. you could relax, just a little. they walked down the hall, chatting softly. mrs. george grinned at you - you had met before, of course, being introduced as one of regina'a friends.
"well, look who we have here! did you hear the news? they said my name on the evening," she told you excitedly, as though her daughter weren't stuck in the hospital from injuries resulting for being hit. by a bus. "head on in darling, those cute boys said she'd be awake soon." her eyes trailed down the hall to the two doctors that had revived regina. with a mini-wave and a "toodle-doo!" she was down the hall and full on flirting with men much younger than herself.
the doorknob to regina's room stared back at you with intimidation so strong you almost turned around and drove home. you reached out a closed your hand around the cool metal, slowly turning it until you were passing through the doorway and standing feet away from her bed. it didn't feel as scary as you thought, entering her room, staring over at her bed. she looked more at peace then you had ever seen her, she looked prettier than you had ever seen her. without her mean-girl face, she seemed a lot more genuine. a lot more like the regina that opened up to you that one chilly night in december.
you silently pulled a chair next to her bed and sat there, waiting for her to wake up. you didn't mind the wait, in a way. because she was sitting there next to you, and she was going to be okay.
when regina awoke, she seemed more confused than anything. her brows furrowed as she looked around the room, her eyes finally landing on you.
"hey," you said all of a sudden, sitting up straight. "you're okay, you're fine. you're . . . in the hospital."
"what are you doing here?" not snappy or bitter or angry. genuine.
"i heard you got hit by a bus," you said, biting your bottom lip anxiously. would she yell at you? tell you she never wanted to see you again? "i heard . . . i you died. i just had to see for myself, to make sure you were okay. i'm sorry, if you don't want me here, i'll -"
"don't leave!" she shouted, grabbing your hand. you stared down at the place where her skin met your hand. this wasn't happening. this couldn't be happening. her fingers intertwined with yours and you find her eyes to be pleading you. "please, just don't leave."
"regina -"
"just shut up and listen, okay?" she told you, sounding upset, but it didn't seem to be an emotion she was directing towards you. you sat back down and scooted your chair closer to her. "i want us to be something more too . . . okay? i like you, loser."
you narrowed your eyes at her. "is this regina george trying to be nice?" you asked dubiously.
"don't ruin the moment or i'm taking everything i said back."
"no," you said quickly, shaking your head with a smile. you placed your other hand on the one clasped in hers. "it's a good look on you. really."
#— [ glizzy posts ☆ ]#regina george x reader#regina george x you#mean girls 2024#mean girls musical#mean girls#my writing#fanfiction#my fanfiction#my fic#writing#fanfic#renee rapp#reneé rapp
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THE WORST PART OF LOVE / IS THAT I REMEMBER IT
Lana Del Rey Summertime Sadness // 后来的我们 Us and Them (2018) dir. Rene Liu // Taylor Swift I Almost Do // BTS - Spring Day // Richard Siken "Crush," Planet of Love // 后来的我们 Us and Them (2018) dir. Rene Liu // Silas Denver Melvin On the Romance of Cannibalism // 后来的我们 Us and Them (2018) dir. Rene Liu // Ocean Vuong On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous // Noah Kahan Stick Season // Joey Comeau // 后来的我们 Us and Them (2018) dir. Rene Liu // Clementine von Radics In a Dream You Saw a Way to Survive // June Gehringer I get so jealous of euthanized dogs
#on love#on heartbreak#web weave#web weaving#poetry parallels#poetry compilation#on memory#lana del rey#us and them#rene liu#后来的我们#zhou dongyu#boran jing#taylor swift#bts#bangtan sonyeondan#richard siken#silas denver melvin#ocean vuong#noah kahan#joey comeau#clementine von radics#june gehringer#on self#spilled poetry#poem#spilled thoughts#spilled ink#dark academa#writing
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Sometimes we have to travel to unknown places to find things we didn’t know we’d lost, and to repair parts of us we didn’t know were broken.
Holly Renee Miller
#Holly Renee Miller#motivation#quotes#poetry#literature#relationship quotes#writing#original#words#love#relationship#thoughts#lit#prose#spilled ink#inspiring quotes#life quotes#quoteoftheday#love quotes#poem#aesthetic
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Writing Ideas: 170 Character Quirks
Quirk—a peculiar trait; idiosyncrasy; memorable little things about a character’s personality that make them charming, endearing, weird, or unique; can be cute habits; is anything worth describing about a character.
PERSONALITY QUIRKS
Very introverted, quiet and reserved, keeps to themselves
Highly extroverted, loves socializing and meeting new people
Mega control freak who has to have everything their way
Neat freak (often coincides with control freak)
Total slob who never knows where anything is
Super stubborn and will never admit when they’re wrong
Brutally honest and can’t lie to save their life
Extremely judgmental of other people
Short-tempered, especially when irritated
Always patient, even when frustrated
Hilarious or odd sense of humor
Very hard to make them laugh
Loves to eat and is obsessed with food
Loves to drink and is constantly partying
Constantly complains about everything
Extremely loyal and will do anything for their friends/family
Adventurous and willing to try anything
Cautious and careful no matter what
Energetic, hardly ever needs to rest
Sleeps all the time and still gets tired during the day
Horrible sense of direction and constantly gets lost
Overachiever who loves school/structure
Really modest and won’t ever brag about themselves
Extremely emotional and will cry at the drop of a hat
Stoic and detached, rarely shows emotion
Wildcard whose behavior is unpredictable, even to their friends
Notoriously two-faced and will betray anyone
Charismatic and can convince anyone to do their bidding
Very proper and always polite to others
Dates tons of people and has a new boyfriend or girlfriend every week
Obsessive personality — whether it’s a TV show, brand, musical artist, or even another person, they’ll get attached and think/talk about it constantly
PHYSICAL QUIRKS
Unique eye or hair color
Has two different eye colors
Extremely short or tall
Some discerning physical mark — birthmark, freckles, mole, or scar
Wears unusual glasses
Has braces and headgear
Large feet — may mean they’re clumsy
Bites their nails/lips or chews on their hair
Constantly fidgeting and can’t sit still
Acne, eczema, or other skin problems
Many tattoos or piercings
Often sick or has allergies (constantly sniffling/blowing their nose)
Talks very loudly or quietly
Says everything like it’s a question
Terrible breath — may be a coffee drinker
Gets sweaty easily (especially when nervous)
Unusually hairy arms or legs
Very long painted nails
Always wears a faceful of makeup
Has a stutter or other speech impediment
Incessantly clicks a pen
Often tucks their hair behind their ears
Constantly chews gum
Has a toothpick dangling from their mouth
Always picking their teeth
Smokes and has a raspy voice
Breathes heavily or snores
Is extremely muscular
Walks very slowly or quickly
Left-handed or ambidextrous
Constantly scratching themselves
Has some noticeable physical tic, like a twitch
Always wears a distinct item of clothing or accessory — a favorite pair of socks, a lucky jersey, or even a particular shade of lipstick
STRENGTHS/TALENTS
Fantastic cook or baker
Skilled musician (piano, guitar, violin, etc.)
Artistic talent (drawing, painting, sculpting, etc.)
Model athlete (football, hockey, swimming, etc.)
Great at voices/ventriloquy
Can do sleight-of-hand — may be a pickpocket
Speaks multiple languages, even obscure ones
Knows everything about history
Mathematical or scientific genius
Brilliant coder and can hack into any database
Skilled mechanical inventor
Can build or put together anything
Super-quick logical reasoning
Exceptional memory/genius IQ (several of the above might fall under this)
Special connection with animals
Super empathetic and understanding of other people
Extremely fast runner
Contortionist (can twist their body into any shape)
Psychic talent (can predict the future)
Amazing mechanic
Super strength, flying, invisibility or other superpowers
Unusually high tolerance for pain
Survival skills like hunting and fishing
Quick reflexes, acts fast in a crisis
Brave and fearless, not scared of anything
Able to talk their way out of any trouble/invent stories on the fly
WEAKNESSES/NEGATIVE TRAITS
Awful driver
Always running late
Illegible handwriting
Terrible at public speaking
Socially awkward — hard for them to make friends
Has tons of credit card debt from online shopping
Self-destructive and always wants what’s worst for them
Gets blackout drunk every time they go out
Extremely conceited or arrogant
Compulsive liar
Manipulative of friends
Gets jealous over nothing
Often mean for no reason
Unbelievably self-centered
Extremely passive-aggressive
Is a hero who doesn’t like using their superpowers
Arachnophobia (irrational fear of spiders)
Coulrophobia (irrational fear of clowns)
Agoraphobia (irrational fear of leaving the house)
Pantophobia (fear of everything)
COMMONLY USED QUIRKS
Pale skin
Crooked smile
“Intense” stare
Relentless clumsiness
Artificial hair colors that are supposedly natural
Characters thinking they’re unattractive when everyone else thinks they’re beautiful
OTHER QUIRKS
Dresses all in one color
Bedroom is decorated exactly like a Pinterest picture
Won’t drink still water, only sparkling
Refuses to use headphones and blasts their music in public
Always dresses too nicely for the occasion
Walks around barefoot, even in stores and other public places
Hates being inside, sleeps and goes to the bathroom outdoors
Can’t help but look in every mirror they pass
Wears a small plastic backpack everywhere
Preps their meals three weeks in advance
Drinks shots of espresso all day long
Sings opera in the shower
Always sneezes around pets
Has a collection of something mundane
Makes their own (terrible) abstract art and hangs it on their walls
Gets super excited about Christmas and then really depressed in January
Refuses to wear glasses even though they need them
Carries around a secret teddy bear
Has been wearing the same friendship bracelet for three years
Fastidiously lint-rolls all their clothing
Will leave a shop or restaurant if someone walks in with a baby
Extremely superstitious (knocks on wood, avoids the number 13, etc.)
Drops everything other people ask them to hold
Likes to go out dancing by themselves
Prefers to have the lights off or dimmed at all times
Only reads books written before 1900
Only watches movies that get really bad reviews
Always wears multiple sweaters on top of each other
Won’t eat anything that doesn’t have bread (at least on the side)
Thinks they’re a time-traveler from the medieval era
Gives friends and family excellent homemade presents
Leaves the office last every day so they can push all the chairs in
Hates jagged numbers (always fills their gas tank to the dollar, sends emails on the hour, etc.)
Has an imaginary friend they still talk to, even in adulthood
Owns a lizard that they try and use as a guard dog
Listens exclusively to Britney Spears
Leaves little notes in library books for future readers
Uses tissues to hold onto poles on public transportation
Wears their hair in Princess Leia buns
Never goes a day without talking to their mom
Hums “In the Hall of the Mountain King” when they get stressed
Clucks their tongue while walking, so they sound like a horse
Quotes Pulp Fiction all the time
Loves hanging out in completely empty places
Convinced they’re going to die in a freak accident
Grows all their own food in their vegetable garden
Never pays for train or bus tickets
Can recite Shakespearean sonnets
Recycles and eats vegetarian, but only out of guilt
Has a “vision board” posted on their ceiling
Loves the beach but hates swimming
Flicks people in the forehead when they get annoyed
Laughs at everything, even bad jokes
Curates a great Instagram feed of street art
Sources: 1 2 ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs
#writing ideas#character development#quirks#writing inspiration#writing reference#writeblr#dark academia#writing prompt#spilled ink#literature#writers on tumblr#writing inspo#character inspiration#character building#fiction#novel#story#creative writing#light academia#rene magritte#writing resources
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there’s shit happening on twitter don’t worry about it here’s my official jon moxley baby daddy suspect list. Gootbye.
#edit: go look at the notes i have additions#today was funny#context: on 4/21 someone posts ‘When Jon Moxley pulls a Becky Lynch and gives the belt to the Owen winner cause he’s pregnant’#this is hilarious. user CosmicAngelVel spends every day since pretending to see the post for the first time and enthusiastically supporting#ppl take notice and start to genuinely debate who the bd would be#i get angry about it bc they’re all being perverts and then 2 hours later add to the discussion and write up a list#do i tag this. do i lower myself#yeah#jon moxley#renee paquette#bryan danielson#claudio castagnoli#marina shafir#eddie kingston#wheeler yuta#daniel garcia#hangman adam page#death riders#shut up about wrestling
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My one ooc Andrew Minyard headcanon I will never let go of is that his eyes are very expressive if you bother to look, but he’s so intimidating is hard to look in his eyes so only Neil, Renee and Kevin notice. Maybe Wymack does too but that’s outside of his pay grade still.
#very much so#aftg#tfc#andreil#andrew minyard#‘Andrew doesn’t smile’ CORRECT!! he does how ever look at Neil with a softness that makes Renee sick to see#it gives her diabetes it’s so sweet. and Neil was oblivious until Renee was like ‘look at him look at Kevin talking about exy and now look#at this pic I took of him looking at you’ and that made Neil go 😯#he doesn’t use this info against Andrew but if he does kiss him a little harder after that only him and Renee know why#idk what I’m writing anymore good luck
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neil post aftg and his trauma and movie night with the foxes
the foxes settle down for their regular movie night, arguing over whose turn it was to pick the movie this time (it's Nicky's, everyone hates Nicky's choices), when neil walks in late. everyone except andrew asks where he's been, though andrew knew he was feeling restless and went for a longer run than usual. he'd been having a bad week, not sleeping, having panic attacks, and it was wearing down on him, he'd hoped a longer run would wear him out enough to sleep tonight, but look in his eyes told andrew that it hadn't worked.
neil waved the foxes off and settled down next to andrew, handing over the pint of ice cream he'd got for him. andrew in turn shares his blanket with him, throwing it over neil's legs once he's settled and allows their thighs and arms to touch, allowing neil to lean on him in the way that he needs when things get too heavy.
the foxes finally relent and allow nicky to choose the movie, and he picks out a horror movie because "it's Halloween" "in 4 weeks nicky" "it's never too early to celebrate Halloween". the movie goes on and the foxes settle, the only noises coming from those who react to the scary parts.
andrew was only half watching the movie, and mostly watching neil. his eyes were fixated on the screen and his anxious energy had dissipated. andrew had learned a lot of things about neil since they met, but his most recent discovery is that he shouldn't be worried about neil when his energy drives him on longer than usual runs, he should be worried when he's completely still.
and right now, neil wasn't moving at all.
andrew reached around the back of neil and flicked matt hard on the side of his head. matt was about to protest loudly until he caught sight of andrew. andrew gestured a cutting motion, pointed at the tv and then at neil. it took him half a second to get it, but he looked at neil and saw exactly what andrew meant. the movie was triggering him, and matt had learned like andrew that a still neil was not good.
with his hand back underneath the blanket, andrew blindly searched for neil's and tapped twice on the top of his hand, "yes," the tapping meant. he didn't expect a reply, but neil, despite his gaze firmly on the TV (looking through it rather than at it), neil tapped twice back on andrews hand, "yes." neil turned his hand over and andrew interlocked their fingers and gave it a gentle squeeze.
matt leaned over dan, who had been sitting in front of him between his legs, and grabbed the tv remote. "alright, this is boring," he said nonchalantly as he tapped buttons to eject the dvd. the foxes groaned and protested at him, nicky being particularly loud. andrew notices dan turn to protest, but her eyes lock on neil's still frame and andrew sees the understanding settle in her eyes.
"agreed," dan said. "nicky's banned from choosing movies, let's watch something else."
"it was getting good!" nicky protested, so matt threw a pillow at his face.
"put him on the bench too," matt said, "awful movie choices don't deserve court time."
next to andrew, neil snorted. andrew didn't think he was listening, but he finally tore his gaze from the now blank tv to acknowledge the argument brewing between dan, matt and nicky. kevin chimed up at that point, a cutting remark about how they'd all be better if they didn't waste time on movie nights and the foxes booed him collectively, multiple pillows ending up in his face. andrew could only watch as the stillness slowly left neil's body, as tiny elements of amusement crossed his features, as he settled back to andrew's side instead of sitting stiffly forward.
"let renee choose," andrew said, the only words that had come out of his mouth. matt sent him a disapproving look. renee was banned from movie choices too. but andrew knew that whatever she picked would be lighthearted enough not to trigger that stillness again. and no one argued with andrew and renee's bright smile was telling enough that she understood the assignment, and no one protested when she chose a musical movie that too many of the foxes shamefully knew the lyrics too.
#i was going to write the fic#but truly i just need to get the idea out of my mind#so have whatever this is#aftg#all for the game#neil josten#andrew minyard#andreil#i have a lot of thoughts about Neil post AFTG#and the way he deals with the trauma now that he finally can#but thats another post#the foxes#psu foxes#dan wilds#matt boyd#mattneil bestiesisms#kevin day#nicky hemmick#renee walker#allison reynolds#aaron minyard#the foxhole court#all for the gay
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¡vamos! II Laia Codina x Arsenal!Reader
GIF by idontknowwfc
romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | word count: 1528
summary: amid the joy and chaos after the final whistle in Lyon, Laia wasn’t just capturing the moment with her camera—she was capturing your love too. requested
author's note: hi everyone, this video was our inspiration for the fanfic. We can't wait to hear what you think ! 🥰🥰
disclaimer: everything in this fanfiction is purely fictional and nothing corresponds to reality.
Excited, Laia turned the film camera towards herself, her grip steady as she smirked at the lens, promising: “I’m going to film everything. Don’t worry.”
“Who gave you a camera?”, Katie raised an eyebrow, half-amused, half-bewildered. The Irish woman hadn’t noticed when one of the staff had handed the Spanish defender the small, portable device.
The atmosphere was electric. Arsenal had done what few believed possible at their chaotic start of the season. Now, as the final whistle pierced the air of the Lyon stadium, the players seated on the elevated bench began to rise, one by one, drawn to the pitch by sheer disbelief and joy.
Laia didn’t so much as blink at Katie’s question. She was already on her feet, swept up in the tide of teammates spilling down the steps.
“¡Vamos!”, she cried, beaming as the spring sun which bathed the pitch in golden light.
“Did she just fucking ignore me?”, Katie shook her head.
Chloe, hearing her, turned with a lifted brow and a flicker of amusement dancing in her eyes: “She really does film everything, doesn’t she?”
“She doesn’t even know what she’s filming anymore. Laia’s just carrying that cam like it’s glued to her hand.”, Katie observed.
Up ahead, players surged towards their coach. Renée stood on the touchline, arms wide open, her face lit with pride and wonder. They vaulted the barrier in a blur of movement, laughter spilling out, boots thudding softly against the green grass, tears mingling with shouts of triumph.
“Laia!”, Mariona’s voice rang out, trying to flag her down, remind her, maybe, of what the camera might catch.
But Laia didn’t hear her. She had turned already, her eyes scanning, searching—until they landed on you.
The camera hung loosely now, forgotten at her side. Her whole face lit up, transformed by that unmistakable smile, the kind only meant for you.
You were standing with Alessia and Leah, all three of you suspended in that strange, shimmering moment after victory.
“Hi.”, Laia said, simply.
Mirroring her smile, your cheeks still flushed from the match, you answered softly: “Oh, hey.”
“You were great.”, she whispered into your ear, her voice low, proud.
Your face turned redder, but you smiled wider: “Thank you.”
“Y/n, they want to do a double interview with you and Lessi.”, Renée’s voice cut gently through the moment.
“Coming.”, you assured her, then turned to Laia, ready to say goodbye, but before you could move, she reached for you, tugging you in. Her arms wrapped around you.
And then she kissed you fiercely, without hesitation, like it was the only thing in the world that mattered.
Laia stood there for a second after your lips separated, a huge grin plastered across her face. She just nodded and said, “Okay, cool.”
You winked at her one last time before heading to your interview.
While you mentally prepared what to say, Laia continued across the pitch. joy radiating from her as she made her way to Arsenal’s captain.
“Kimmy!”, she called out, pulling the smaller woman into a tight hug.
Kims eyes widened with surprise. “Did you just kiss her on the mouth while recording?”, she asked, half incredulous, half scolding, as she pointed to the camera still in Laia’s hand.
Laia followed her gaze and flinched: “What? Shit!”
“It’s fine. I’m sure they can cut it out before posting.“, Lotte said calmly as she joined them. Then, with a crooked smirk, she added, “Unless you want to go public with it.”
Laia shrugged: “I guess I’ll have to talk to her about it.”
“You should.”, Kim agreed with a firm nod.
“I will. But first I have to make more videos.”, the defender said, already raising the camera again and heading off to film more celebrations.
Meanwhile, you and Alessia were standing side by side at the interview area. Multiple microphones and a camera were pointed at you both, but you could barely take any of it seriously. You were still exhilarated from the game, the performance and the end result. It all felt like a dream.
So when Alessia was asked how she felt after the game and replied: “Yeah, we’re obviously buzzing.“, you couldn’t hold it together anymore. Her go-to word even made an appearance after such an important game. You had to fight to keep from bursting out laughing, though a little snort still escaped.
Alessia elbowed you in the side: “Y/n, stop laughing.”
“Sorry, Lessi.”, you coughed to cover your smile and trying to compose yourself
Alessia professionally ignored you and continued to reply to the question: “Everyone was just incredibly today.”
“Agreed, it was truly a masterclass from the team on and off the pitch.”, you added, pride clear in your voice.
“It really was.”
Just as the young journalist opened his mouth to ask another question, Katie appeared out of nowhere, grabbing both of you by the arms.
“Time to party!”, she announced as she dragged you off.
The reporter could only watch one as you were swept away and you almost felt bad for him. But celebrating this milestone with your teammates seemed much more important than answering a few more boring questions.
“Follow us, we’re celebrating.”, you called out as soon as you spotted your girlfriend.
Nervously, Laia cleared her throat and pulled you into a quieter corner. “Amor? Can we talk?”
“Of course.”, you replied, though her sudden seriousness left you puzzled. Where had the cheerful Spaniard gone?
“So... I accidentally filmed our kiss and unfortunately, we look very cute on camera.”, the defender confessed, offering a charmingly shy smile.
It was clearly not the explanation you had expected; a disbelieving laugh escaped your lips: “Wait, you did what?”
“Yes?”, the brunette replied, her chocolate-brown eyes sparkling with amusement.
You both jumped slightly as Daphne’s voice chimed in: “I told you, you two look great on film. I still have those photos from our last day out.”
For a moment, you closed your eyes, recalling the picnic the goalkeeper had mentioned, one of those first warm days in a London park when everything felt lighter, the sun warming the grass beneath you. It had been clear then that you and Laia were in love. The memory brought you a sense of calm.
“What do you think, amor? Should we post Daphne’s pictures of us before the video comes out? No more hiding.”, you proposed your idea.
Your girlfriend agreed: “I think we should.”
On the flight home, night had already fallen, and the lights below twinkled like stars. You settled into your seat beside Laia, who was rewatching the video she’d recorded earlier.
“We have to save this, so our future children can see how cool we were.”, the Spaniard suggested with a grin.
Mariona, seated directly behind you, immediately protested: “You two might have been together longer than Lia and me, but you’re far too young to be thinking about kids!”
Her Swiss girlfriend nodded in agreement, chuckling: “Yes—no baby talk on this flight.”
“Alright, alright, we hear you. Katie, hand us the drink.”, you requested with a mischievous smile, glancing over at the Irish defender.
She shook her head and protectively covered her champagne bottle. “Nope, it’s mine.” “Katie.” “You girls can have it, she’s clearly had enough already.”, Caitlin cut in, smoothly taking the bottle from her girlfriend’s grasp.
“Rude.”, Katie muttered, pouting.
“Gracias.”, Laia said brightly as you both took a sip of the golden liquid.
Smiling, Mariona raised her own glass:” Cheers, chicas.”
“Cheers,” Laia replied.
Suddenly, you stood up, your voice thick with emotion as you lifted your glass for a toast: “To a day we’ll hopefully never forget.”
“We won’t! This is historic!”, Leah yelled. Earlier, in the post-match huddle, she’d reminded everyone just how special this moment was for Arsenal.
Kim’s eyes glistened once more. She had given nearly seventeen years to the club when the midfielder first arrived, memories of their last European Cup win were still vivid. And now, they’d done it again.
“We made history today.”, she murmured softly.
Beth quickly pulled her into a hug.
“Don’t start crying again.”, she laughed.
“Shut up, Beffy. I’m not crying but you and Leah are.”, the captain protested, pointing at the two players.
Beth didn’t respond, just wiped at her glazed-over eyes.
Katie interrupted, raising her glass solemnly.
“Now it’s my turn. Tonight, we won through the power of friendship and lesbianism!”
It was such a ridiculous toast that the whole team burst into giggles. “You can’t say that!” Kim scolded with a smile. “Yes, I can,” Katie shot back, completely unfazed.
You knew they’d be bickering about this for a while, so you turned to Laia.
Her face was soft and full of love as she watched the other players.
“Our team…”, she whispered.
You smiled at her: “Yeah, I know. I love them too.”
“Yes,” Laia said, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your lips. “But I love you the most of all of them.”
You smiled against her lips, knowing this night would live in your heart forever, not just for the history you made, but for the people you made it with.
#laia codina#laia codina imagine#laia codina x reader#woso x reader#woso x y/n#woso community#woso#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso blurbs#arsenal wfc x reader#arsenal wfc imagine#arsenal wfc#awfc x reader#awfc imagine#awfc#katie mccabe#mariona caldentey#chloe kelly#renee slegers#kim little#lotte wubben moy#alessia russo#leah williamson#daphne van domselaar#caitlin foord#woso appreciation#lia walti#wlw writing#woso oneshot
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R.GEORGE
THE CRUSH 2
part one here
Two weeks later, Regina’s fingers brush mine under the lunch table for half a second—just enough to send a chill up my spine—before she leans back, eyes half-lidded, and throws her attention toward Gretchen’s dramatic retelling of a breakup that, apparently, lasted 11 hours.
“Tragic,” Regina drawls, sipping from her iced coffee. “He probably left when he realized your love language is ‘texting forty-seven times in a row.’”
Everyone laughs. Gretchen scowls, but even she knows Regina’s claws are part of the deal.
Across the table, Cady glances at me—just a flick of the eyes. She knows. Janis and Damien, too. But no one else does, and that’s how Regina wants it.
I agreed, just happy I get to be with her now.
When she’s in front of the Plastics, Regina is Regina—flippant, razor-edged, untouchable. But when it’s just us... it’s different. She’s different.
After school when we meet behind the gym she grabs my wrist and yanks me around the corner, the click of her heels fast and intentional. The moment we’re out of sight, she presses me against the brick wall and kisses me hard, like she’s been holding her breath all day.
I laugh against her lips. “Hi to you, too.”
“Do you have any idea how boring Karen is?” she mutters, dragging her fingers under the hem of my shirt like she’s checking if I’m still real. “I had to sit through her ten-minute monologue about glitter lotion.”
I grin. “And this is my reward for your suffering?”
Her lips curl into a half-smile. “Obviously.”
She kisses me again, slower this time, and when she pulls back, she just rests her forehead against mine for a second.
“This is my favorite part of the day,” she whispers.
“Mine too.”
At school, later that week, it’s the middle of chemistry, and Regina’s sitting on the lab table infront of mine. She doesn’t look at me—not directly. But her foot taps mine under the desk. Tap-tap-pause. Tap. Our secret code. I glance up, and her eyes flick to the hallway for half a second.
Got it.
When the bell rings, I’m “going to the janitor's closet.”
She’s already waiting in the janitor’s closet at the end of the hall, arms crossed, expression blank until she sees me. Then she lets out a breath and pulls me into her. It’s dark, barely enough light to see her smirk.
“You were almost late,” she says.
“I live dangerously.”
Regina rolls her eyes and kisses me like I’m the only real thing in the world. But even here, hidden away, she still keeps one hand by the door. Always ready to pull back, to shield, to pretend this isn’t happening if someone finds us.
---
With the group, later that night we’re all in Karen’s basement watching some trashy horror movie. Regina sits on the opposite couch, wedged between Gretchen and Cady, tossing popcorn at the screen like she’s too cool to care.
She doesn’t look at me.
Not once.
But when Gretchen gets up to go to the bathroom, I see it—Regina’s hand slides into her bag. A text vibrates on my phone seconds later.
REGINA: “Kitchen. Two minutes.”
I wait three, just to keep the illusion.
She’s already there when I walk in, leaning against the counter, backlit by the fridge light. Her arms are crossed as soon as she sees me, but not like she’s mad—more like she’s bracing herself. For me. For this.
“Three minutes,” she says. “You trying to get me caught?”
“I like to keep things spicy,” I tease, stepping closer.
Her mouth twitches into something between a smirk and a sigh, and she uncrosses her arms just enough to hook two fingers through my belt loop. She pulls me toward her like it’s second nature.
I land soft against her, our hips just brushing, the quiet hum of the fridge the only sound between us. Her eyes scan my face with that same sharp focus she usually saves for opponents—not lovers. Like she’s still trying to figure out what I am to her.
“I hate this,” she mutters.
I blink. “What, this?” I gesture vaguely to the space between us. “Or the janitor closets and midnight kitchen rendezvous?”
“No,” she says, eyes flicking away like it hurts to admit it. “I hate hiding you.”
That stills me.
“I thought you liked it this way,” I say gently. “Safe. Controlled. Plastic-approved.”
“I did,” she says, her voice quieter now. “But today, when Karen called me ‘single’ during lunch, and you didn’t even flinch... it made me want to scream.”
I step even closer, hands finding her waist, grounding her.
“I flinched,” I whisper. “Just on the inside.”
She lets out a breath that sounds like it’s been stuck in her chest all day. “I don’t know how to be this and that at the same time.”
“You don’t have to figure it out right now.”
Regina looks up at me. “But what if I never do? What if I can only be real when we’re alone?”
“Then we keep stealing kitchen and janitor closets,” I murmur, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “And I keep waiting. Until you’re ready to make this public.”
She leans forward, pressing her forehead to mine. “I don’t deserve you.”
I kiss the corner of her mouth. “You do.”
The kiss she gives me then is slower—quieter than usual. No rush. No heat. Just two mouths, softly meeting like a secret they want to savor.
But just as we fall into it, the sound of footsteps overhead makes us freeze.
Regina pulls back first, straightens her shirt, wipes her lips with the back of her hand like muscle memory. When I step back, the space between us suddenly feels so much colder.
She’s slipping into her mask again. I see it happen. The walls come back up like an instinct.
Regina stands there for a second—still, guarded, perfect. I almost reach for her hand, but I know better. She’s already stepped back into Regina George mode, where affection is ammunition and softness is saved for shadows.
She opens the fridge—not because she needs anything, but because pretending to look for something gives her exactly 30 seconds to reset. The glow outlines her sharp features, casting her in light and cold all at once.
“I should get back,” she says, voice flat, fingers curling around a bottle of water like it’s armor.
I nod, slow. “Yeah. Me too.”
But neither of us moves.
Then, just before she turns to leave, she says quietly, “Don’t text me tonight. I’ll call you.”
I know what that means. She needs to choose the terms. Stay in control. Stay untouchable… even if it hurts her.
“Okay,” I say. “I’ll wait.”
She nods once, sharp and quick, and disappears back into the basement.
Later that night, I lie in bed with my phone on my chest, screen glowing in the dark. It’s almost midnight when it finally rings.
Her name lights up.
I answer before the second buzz.
“I’m sorry,” she says before I can speak. Her voice is small—Regina George doesn't do small. “I didn’t want to leave like that. I just… I didn’t want anyone to see it on my face.”
“What?”
“That I’m in love with you.”
The words hit me like the air’s been pulled from the room. My mouth opens, then closes again. She’s never said anything close to that before. Not even when we’re alone.
“…Say it again,” I whisper.
“I’m in love with you,” she repeats, slower this time. “And I hate that I can’t just scream it like Karen screams about lip gloss.”
I close my eyes. My chest aches with how much I want to hold her. “Then let’s do it your way. Once were both ready. Dont feel the need to rush, im not going anywhere, my love.”
There’s silence on the line. But it’s not the bad kind. It’s the kind where someone’s choosing to stay. Regina breathes out softly before speaking again.
There’s silence on the line. But it’s the kind that feels full—not empty. Like she’s sorting through every sharp, tender thought she’s ever had and trying to decide which ones she’s brave enough to say out loud.
Then she exhales, quiet but shaky. “Are your parents home?”
I blink at the ceiling, heart skipping. “No. They’re gone for the weekend.”
Another pause. Then:
“Can I come over?”
My voice is barely a whisper. “Yes.”
---
Twenty minutes later, there’s a soft knock at the back door.
I open it and there she is—hoodie pulled up, makeup wiped off, clutching her phone and a small overnight bag like she’s unsure if this counts as running away or running toward something.
She steps inside wordlessly, and I lock the door behind her. We just stand there for a second in the dim light of the kitchen. Her eyes scan my face like she’s trying to memorize me all over again.
Then she says, “Hi.”
I smile. “Hi.”
Regina sets her bag down and walks straight into my arms like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like she didn’t just spend all day pretending I’m invisible. Like this—us—is the only thing that makes sense.
She holds on tight, face pressed to my neck. I feel her breath warm against my skin.
“I needed to see you without having to hide.”
“You are always welcome here,” I whisper. “No pretending. No masks.”
She nods, and I feel it more than see it.
---
Later, we’re curled up in my bed. Her legs tangled with mine, hoodie exchanged for one of my old T-shirts. She smells like vanilla shampoo and something warmer—something that’s just her.
We’re facing each other in the dark, a single lamp casting soft light over the room. Her hand traces the shape of my collarbone like it’s an act of reverence.
“I feel like I’m living two lives,” she murmurs. “One where I’m Regina George, and one where I’m... yours.”
“You can be both,” I say gently. “They’re not at war with each other. They just haven’t met yet.”
She gives a small, amused huff. “God, you sound like a therapist.”
“You love it.”
She leans in, nose brushing mine. “Yeah. I do.”
We kiss slowly. No rush. No hidden door or countdown clock. Just warmth and softness and the safety of being seen.
---
Sometime around 2 a.m., I wake up and find her still awake, lying on her back, eyes on the ceiling.
“What are you thinking about?” I ask sleepily.
She glances at me, and for once, she doesn’t lie.
“I’m thinking about what it’ll feel like when I stop hiding. When I walk into school and hold your hand, and don’t give a single damn who’s watching.”
My heart catches. “You want that?”
“I’m not ready yet,” she says honestly. “But I’m starting to want it more than I’m afraid of it.”
I reach for her hand under the blanket, interlace our fingers. “Then when that day comes, I’ll be right there. Hand out. Waiting.”
She squeezes once. “You always are.”
---
In the morning, she’s the first to wake up. I find her sitting on the edge of my bed, staring at a photo on my dresser—one of me and my family at the beach. The real kind of smiling. The kind she almost never does.
When she hears me stir, she doesn’t turn around right away. Just says, “I want to be brave.”
“You already are,” I murmur.
She looks over her shoulder, eyes softer than I’ve ever seen them. “Will you help me keep being brave?”
I get up, walk over, wrap my arms around her from behind. “Always.”
---
Back at school that Monday, she doesn’t hold my hand.
Not yet.
But when Gretchen calls her “single” again in passing, Regina doesn’t let it slide.
Instead, she glances at me across the table, smirks, and says,
“Who said I’m single?”
Gretchen freezes mid-bite. “Wait, what?”
Regina just sips her iced coffee like it’s nothing. “I’m just saying. Maybe there’s more going on than you think.”
And under the table, her foot finds mine again.
Tap-tap-pause. Tap.
But this time?
She doesn’t look away.
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We can’t go backward. There are too many regrets. Please just move forward with me?
Renee Carlino, Swear on This Life: A Novel
#Renee Carlino#motivation#quotes#poetry#literature#relationship quotes#writing#original#words#love#relationship#thoughts#lit#prose#spilled ink#inspiring quotes#life quotes#quoteoftheday#love quotes#poem#aesthetic
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