#come on July! I have faith in you!

[happyheidi]

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ. July will bring blessings.

ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

[lovemewednesdays]

sag-aftra press conference.

In case you missed it, SAG-AFTRA just finished up a press conference where they talked to union members and the press about what's up.

Here are the big things (that I remember):

The deadline extension from June 30 to July 12 was made in good faith on SAG-AFTRA's part. They thought the AMPTP would utilize the extra time to come to the table with a fair deal. They did not. It is suspected that they wanted the extension to have more time to promote their summer blockbusters.

The studios wanted to be able to have AI scans of background actors. These actors would be paid once, and then the studios would be able to keep the actors' likeness, use the data for eternity without the actors' consent, and never pay them again. Keep in mind that only two percent of SAG-AFTRA members are big names. This proposal would've affected the other ninety-eight percent of members, many of whom are living paycheck to paycheck at the moment.

The AMPTP tried to turn union membership against Fran Drescher (current union president) by circulating a picture of her "living it up" in Italy with Kim Kardashian. This was a work obligation on Drescher's part. She's a brand ambassador for a fashion line, and whenever she wasn't on set, she was working with the negotiation committee via Zoom and text.

The video that was sent out to union members on June 28, in which they were told that the negotiations were going well, was filmed before the negotiations got to the core issues – AI, residuals, etc.

The AMPTP's deal was "disrespectful and egregious."

The other labor unions in the industry stand in solidarity with each other.

Fran Drescher called the AMPTP's plan to wait out the WGA until they were homeless "unnecessary evil."

While SAG-AFTRA is open to returning to the negotiating table at any time, leadership was signaled that the AMPTP was not interested; they believe the strike could last for a while.

[13uswntimagines]

13 Eras of Us Era 2: It’s The First Kiss, It’s Flawless, Really Something, It’s Fearless (Taylor Swift X Morgan!Reader)

13 Eras of us Era 1

This is the Era where R and Taylor finally get together. There is a little spice (very clearly marked). R and Alex start to work on their issues, and we learn a little bit more about R's past... situationships. The team learns about "burrito girl" and Kelley saves the day and keeps things on track.

August 2016

And isn’t it just so pretty to think 

All along there was some invisible string

While August was turning out slightly better than July, it was still weird. 

It was weird being at camp when you weren’t on the roster. Weird being around the people you called friends when most of them weren’t talking to you. 

But what made matters worse was that you had been called in hours before camp started. You had blindly thrown random clothing into a suitcase, rushing to not miss the flight Christen, Alyssa, and JJ were on, all while calling your teammates to find one willing to watch your dogs on such late notice. 

Part of you even considered calling Tony, the bodyguard who had strangely stayed in town despite Taylor’s departure, hoping that maybe he could at least check on them until you could guilt one of your teammates into taking them. 

The older couple that lived next to you would let him in, you knew. 

You had given Mr. And Mrs. Rossi keys two days after you had moved in when they brought over a pan of ravioli and introduced themselves. 

You were just lucky that Niki Stanton had answered you just before you boarded the plane with a yes, so you hadn’t had to ask. 

You didn’t want to bug Taylor more than you had to. You didn’t want to assume that Tony would want to help you. 

You sighed, tugging the special 3rd knot on your cleats to make sure it was tight. 

It wasn’t like you would actually be training with the team. You would be there to partner for drills. To make sure that everyone else was prepared to face Ireland. 

The only problem was that it seemed like no one wanted you to partner with them.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. 

Rose and Emily had sent you regretful smiles as Jill directed you to pair with one of the forwards for a passing drill. Alex had already been claimed by Lindsey and Tobin and Christen had chosen each other. 

It left you on the bench, trying to pretend like it didn’t hurt that the rest of the team had lost so much faith in your abilities that they wouldn’t even look in your direction. 

You blew out another breach, checking your left cleat again. 

“Can I partner with you?” Mal asked sheepishly, blocking the beating sun from your face. 

You squinted up at her, your lips twitched into a ghost of a smile. “Don’t know if you wanna risk my bad luck rubbing off on you,”

“You don’t have bad luck,” She said, her lips also lifting. “But I will take some of your magic if you’re offering,” 

“You never could get enough,” You wiggled your eyebrows. 

“You’re too much,” Mal chuckled, shaking her head. 

There was a glint in her eyes, one that reminded you of long summers at U15 camp flirting over ice cream cones, and talking about what the future held. It reminded you of an easier time before you had been crushed by expectations. Before there were any expectations. 

You weren’t sure if the feelings you had harbored were real, or just a figment created by excitement and feeling free for the first time. What you did know was that while your feelings had long since mellowed into platonic, the comfort her friendship brought you was still as strong as it ever had been. 

If you couldn’t be on the pitch, you would make damn sure she had the debut of her lifetime. 

She deserved that, and hopefully, you would prove yourself to the coaching staff and be allowed to rejoin the team. 

She grabbed your arm, and dragged you to your feet.“Come on, I don’t want to be late for my first practice,” 

You made a low noise of agreement, trudging after her. 

“Don’t look so glum,” Tobin said, nudging your arm as you stepped into line beside her, across from Mal. “It doesn’t suit your sunny personality,” 

You pulled a face at her, catching the ball with your right cleat as Mal sent it your way, and you tapped it to your left foot and sent it back. “I think a majority of my energy has been sapped by all of my friends hating me,” 

“They don’t,” Christen said simply, flicking her own ball back towards Tobin. 

“We could never hate you,” Alex chimed in, catching a pass from Lindsey. 

“Cause I’m really feeling the love,” You grumbled back, staring at the ball instead of meeting your sister's eyes. 

You could feel their gazes glued to you, and you could imagine the looks on their faces. 

You didn’t need to see it. 

“Alright ladies,” Jill clapped her hands, drawing the group's attention. “Let’s start with passing drills. Midfielders will pass to their forwards, and forwards will attempt to score while the defenders will try to stop you,” 

She gestured towards the line of waiting defenders on one side of the goalpost, and the 3 keepers waiting by the other. “If you score, you get to keep the point. If you don’t, the defense keeps it. The side with the most points at the end will get to skip 2 laps on the conditioning run at the end of practice,” 

Your eyebrows furrowed. 

Jill didn’t usually run drills like this. This was something reminiscent of one of Roary’s drills. 

She couldn’t have been talking to him, but if she was... If she listened to his opinion, then maybe what he said was true. 

Maybe he really did have the power to make or break you. 

It sent an unpleasant shiver down your spine. 

You didn’t want to think about the… thank you you might owe him. Or how his suggestion of extra sessions might actually help. 

“Likewise, the keepers will also try to stop you so select the best shot, not just the easiest,” Jill continued, and you blinked back to yourself. “Questions?”

You shook your head along with the group. 

It didn’t matter who had come up with it. All that mattered was that you showed Jill that you belonged on the roster. That you made her regret not including you. 

“Ready to put on a show?” Mal bumped you as Lindsey and Alex started the drill. 

Alex easily outpaced Becky to get into position, but Lindsey had a harder time faking out Kelley, taking an extra second to make the defender step before she sent a perfect through ball into Alex’s path. 

“Always,” You breathed out as the ball left Alex’s foot, sailing through the air before pinging off of the crossbar. She ran a frustrated hand through her hair, and you dragged your eyes away to look at Mal. “Don't miss,” 

A devilish grin took over Mal’s features. “Don’t worry Ducky, I can’t miss with your magic,” 

She winked at you, and you rolled your eyes. 

You hated that nickname. Not as much as others you had been given. Not enough to ask Mal to get rid of it, not when she liked it so much. 

You stepped up to the ball and focused on Emily across from you as Mal did the same with Abby. 

Nicknames could wait until after you had shown them all why you belonged. 

OoOoOoO

You let out a long breath, standing over the ball as you stared at goal. 

You could hear your teammates behind you, chatting as they packed up their gear, but you did your best to tune them out. 

It didn’t matter to you that practice had ended nearly 15 minutes ago. All that you cared about was scoring from the spot. All you cared about was making sure you never missed another penalty again.

You took three steps back, your eyes flickering to the ball and then back towards goal. The back netting fluttered gently in the wind, like waving hands in the stands. 

You blew out one more breath and leaned into your run, counting down in your head. 

Your eyes never left the net as you took your three-step run up and blasted the ball toward the top right corner. 

It hit the net with a satisfying woosh, sending ripples through the material and rattling the woodwork. 

“Not bad,” 

You blinked at the approaching voice, turning to face the new number-one keeper of the USWNT. 

“Oh, thanks,” You nodded, blushing slightly and running a hand through your hair. You headed towards the goal to collect your ball and shoot again. 

You didn’t really interact with Alyssa, even in Chicago. Her quiet confidence always intimidated you. 

“Mind if I stand in goal for you?” She asked, trailing after you. “I wanna get some reps in,”

You paused, blinking at her. “You don’t have to do that for me,” 

She sent you a small smile. “I know. I want to,” 

You swallowed, flicking the ball up to your hands and tossing it towards her. “If you really want to,” 

“I do,” Alyssa caught it easily, looking at you for a long second. “When you send balls to the top right corner, you tilt your hips to the left in your run-up. It gives you away,” 

Your eyebrows furrowed. You didn’t know you were doing that. 

“Try to stay square,” She continued. “It’ll make it harder to read you,” 

You hummed, biting the inside of your lip as you stepped back towards the spot. 

She rolled the ball towards you, and you carefully positioned it where you wanted it, and took three big steps back. 

You twisted your hips, trying to remember to keep them square as you did your run-up. 

Your eyes fell to the ball, and you let out a long breath, doing the countdown on your head as you dragged your gaze to meet Alyssa’s in goal. 

You leaned onto your toes, doing your run-up and forcing your hips to remain parallel. 

Now that you were in step, you could feel what Alyssa was talking back in the way you wanted to pull to your left for the windup. 

Your foot contacted the ball, and you watched as it flew much more slowly towards Alyssa’s outstretched fingertips. It brushed past her, landing in the net with a much less satisfying swish. 

“I just feel like I don’t have as much power,” You said, watching as Alyssa got back to her feet and fished the ball out of the back of the net. 

“I save goals, I don’t make them,” Alyssa shrugged, rolling the ball back in your direction. “You could ask maybe Pino or your sister,”

Your nose scrunched at the options. 

You would rather gargle thumbtacks than do either considering Pino was still pretending that you didn’t exist and Alex was… too much. 

She was trying too hard, pushing too much and it made you suspicious. Why did she care now when she hadn’t before? When she had been ignoring you since the ball left your foot in Rio? 

When the two of you had been at odds since she left for Berkeley?

“It was just a suggestion,” Alyssa said quickly as you tapped the ball back towards the spot. 

“I know,” You mumbled, repositioning the ball with your hands. “I’ll probably ask Mal later. She’s always been better at PKs anyway,” 

Alyssa hummed in agreement. She didn’t know you well enough to argue, and you seemed pretty close with the new striker. You had perked up considerably after partnering with her during practice, and the two of you had been unstoppable in the new set of drills Jill wanted to try(even if Jill made you sit the scrimmage out). 

She hoped that helping you with your PKs would only add to the good mood you had been riding. She hoped it would help to alleviate the dark cloud that had been following you since the Olympics. 

You were young and under more pressure than anyone your age should ever be placed under. As the captain of your club team, she felt it was her duty to actually do something about it. If that meant standing for a million of your PKs until you felt comfortable, then that’s exactly what she would do. 

You lined up behind the ball, squinting at it. She noticed how you tilted your hips back and forth trying to figure out the mechanics of your kick. 

It amazed her how easily you could adjust, and how smooth you made it look. 

If you could get rid of your little tells, you would be deadly in front of the net. Just as deadly as you were during normal play. 

She watched as you leaned forward on your toes, your feet shuffling as you prepared to kick. 

“Hey you two, we’re going to leave soon,” Alyssa blinked up at Kelley’s voice, just as the ball left your foot. 

She missed your kick, and the ball sailed easily into the net to her left. “We were just finishing up,”

Your shoulders rolled, and it looked like you wanted to argue, but no words left your lips. 

It worried her how much you sunk into yourself at Kelley’s appearance. How your good mood vanished in a second. 

She shared a look with Kelley over your shoulder, noting the worry in the defender's eyes. 

At least someone else saw it too. 

“Come on, you can sit by me at lunch,” Alyssa said, wrapping an arm over your shoulder and guiding you towards the bench with your gear. “We can talk more about ball placement,” 

You made a low noise and allowed her to pull you back towards the team. 

You would take any help you could get. 

 *****

“Where’s Ducky?” Mal asked as she set her plate down on the table beside Lindsey’s, leaving an empty chair on her other side for you. 

She thought practice had gone well, and the good mood you gained through practice stayed with you to the weight and film sessions that followed it. You seemed excited about dinner, hyping up Chef Teron’s cooking and promising that you would join her after you took a shower. 

“Ducky?” Kelley frowned, taking the seat opposite of her. 

“Y/n,” Mal said, glancing up at the defender.  “She found a baby duck at our first camp together,”

It was the truth, even if it wasn’t the entire story. Kelley didn’t need to know exactly how the nickname had been earned anyway. Mal was sure she wouldn’t want to know…

Lindsey shot her a look. A warning of sorts that while Kelley didn’t know the story, the full extent of Mal’s relationship with you, Lindsey definitely did. 

“Em’s not here either. I’m sure they’re just late. You know how they get when they’re together,” Lindsey said, dragging her eyes away from Mal to look at Kelley. 

Kelley shrugged. “It’s entirely possible,” 

You and Emily were known to get into trouble when the two of you were together. 

“What’s possible?” Emily asked, appearing through the meal room door alone. 

“That you and Y/n are late because you two are nuts when you’re together,” Lindsey said, stabbing a piece of her chicken. “It's why Paul banned it at u20 camp,” 

Mal rolled her eyes. “No. He stopped putting them together after Y/n was up for three nights straight because she lost a bet,” 

“That’s true,” Emily shrugged. “She was on the phone with the mysterious Taylor when I left. I didn’t want to wait for her anymore,” 

Kelley’s eyebrows furrowed. “Who?”

She had never heard of Taylor before. 

Emily's shoulders lifted and fell again. “The girl that Y/n isn’t dating but pretty much is,” 

“I’m not dating her,” You grumbled, finally joining the table. 

Mal frowned when you took the seat between Kelley and Emily instead of the seat she had saved for you. She slid the plate she had made for you across the table nonetheless, and you nodded in thanks. 

Emily rolled her eyes, ignoring the way you glared at the side of her head. “She flew to your apartment because she was worried about you, and then went to a shitty game that you only played in for 22 minutes,” 

“I scored a hat trick,” You muttered, stabbing at the pasta Mal had grabbed for you. “It wasn’t that shitty,” 

“I’m sorry, what?” Kelley blinked at you. 

She was usually the first person you told things to, despite how… strained things were between you and your sister at times. It felt very strange to her to be out of the loop. 

You let out a suffering sigh. “It’s nothing. Emily is just blowing everything out of proportion,” 

“Am I?” Emily asked incredulously. “Let me repeat, a girl flew across the country to see you because you were sad,” 

“She’s my friend,” You muttered. 

“Ok,” Kelley said, holding up her hand to stop whatever retort Emily was about to make. “It was very nice of your friend to visit,” 

You hummed, seemingly mollified. “It was. She got to try her first burrito,” 

“What kind of person has never had a burrito?” Lindsey snorted. 

And your shoulders lifted and fell. “She’s from Pennsylvania. I don’t think they’re popular there. Or in Nashville,” 

Emily opened her mouth like she was going to protest, but a sharp look from Kelley had her closing it again. 

The way to get information out of you was to drop the pressure, and let you share what you felt comfortable with, even if it wasn’t the juicy details that anyone really wanted. 

“Does she live in Nashville now?” Kelley asked, pretending like she wasn’t invested in the answer. 

Your nose scrunched, and you chewed your food thoughtfully. You had only visited her in Nashville so far, but you knew she spent a larger amount of time in New York. 

 “At least part-time,” You said, stabbing another set of noodles. “She splits her time between there, LA and New York,”  

“Nice, kid,” Kelley hummed. 

“It’s good to make friends,” Mal added, swallowing the sudden lump in her throat, as you smiled brilliantly at her. 

She would believe you when you said that this… Taylor was your friend. After all, she was just your friend too. 

“What about friends?” Alex asked, appearing at the table, and placing her plate down next to Mal. 

“We were just talking about Y/n’s new friend,” Emily said, waggling her eyebrows. “Apparently she never had a burrito before she met your sister,” 

A disgusted look crossed Alex's face. “If that’s a sex thing, then I really don’t want to know about it,” 

“It’s not,” You huffed. “I think about more than just sex you know,” 

“You do? I’m shocked,” Alex deadpanned, and the table burst into bemused laughter. 

“You forgot that she thinks about soccer,” Emily cackled, nudging you. “And the dogs,” 

“Ah yes, the pack of mythological creatures,” Alex said, rolling her eyes. 

“So dogs, soccer, and sex. Seems pretty reasonable to me,” Kelley flicked the side of your head, and you jerked away from her. 

“I fucking hate you guys,” You ground out, stabbing another piece of your chicken, more bitterness than you meant leaking into your tone.

Mal’s head tilted to the side, as the comment only earned more laughter from the table. She noticed something she couldn’t place in Alex’s expression as the giggles died down. 

“I think she thinks a lot about penalty kicks too,” Lindsey added, chuckling. “It was all her and Alyssa would talk about at lunch,” 

Your face twisted into a grimace, and Mal knew at once that you didn’t find it funny. She saw Kelley’s arm shift next to you like a hand was placed on your leg to keep you from pushing yourself out of your seat. 

Alex’s eyebrows furrowed at the comment, and she leaned forward in her chair. 

“Your hips twist to the left when you aim for the top right corner,” She said, her voice going oddly gentle. “If you twist your plant foot outward, it’ll counter it so you can keep your hips square and still have the same power,” 

You froze, your forks halfway to your lips, and your back went rigid. 

It was one thing for Alyssa to offer her help, and another for your sister to do it. 

You bit back your retort that Alex had missed her kick too, that she was no better than you, and forced your fork to your mouth. 

You weren’t in a position to deny help. Even if you didn’t really want it. 

“I can show you later if you want,” Alex continued, seeming unphased by your stiffness. 

“Sure,” Your voice squeaked as you agreed, your eyes dipping. 

Alex’s smile was blinding. “Awesome. We can do it after dinner and before movie night,” 

Your chin barely moved as you nodded in agreement, chewing on your bite. 

Taking pointers from Alex was not a top thing on your to-do list. 

*****

“I just feel like it cuts my power in half,” You sighed, running a frustrated hand through your hair and turning away from the little goal the staff had set up for you. 

“You just need to find the right foot angle so your hips can get around it,” Alex positioned her hands as she explained it. “Just play with it for a bit. I’m sure you’ll get it,” 

You could feel her eyes on you like you were a specimen under a microscope, but you didn’t look up to meet her eyes. 

You couldn’t meet her eyes. 

It reminded you too much of when you were young. Of the hours the two of you would spend in the backyard, critiquing each other play after play. Of the summers you spent under the hot sun, practicing skill after skill until you could take out every other player you faced. 

It reminded you that Alex was more than a teammate. And that was too much. 

“Y/n,” Alex said, her voice going very soft, her hand landing warm and grounding on your shoulder. 

You sucked in a shaky breath. The two of you hadn’t been this close since she left for college. You hadn’t let her this close to you. 

“I’m fine, Alex,” You muttered, trying to shrug her hand off, but she didn’t let you. 

“You’re not,” Her fingers tightened on your shoulder. “And part of that is my fault,” 

Your jaw clenched. “You didn’t sky your penalty,” 

While Alex’s kick hadn’t gone in, it hadn’t been taken nearly as badly as yours was. The keeper had beaten her, while you had simply beaten yourself. 

“No,” She agreed softly. “But I also didn’t make sure you were ok afterward,” 

No. Afterward, everyone split off into different directions to handle their grief. Alex didn’t even say goodbye to you before flying out of Rio. 

“You don’t need to worry about me. I’m an adult,” You said, finally looking up to meet her eyes. The eyes were a near-perfect replica of yours. “I’m fine. I’m playing well, and I’m showing everyone that I deserve to be here,” 

Alex nodded. 

She couldn’t disagree that you had been on fire since camp started. That the connection you and Mal had on the pitch was proving to be lethal, and that she was sure Jill regretted that you wouldn’t be eligible for the game against Australia. 

But she could see that you were not fine. 

She wished you trusted her enough to admit it. 

“You might be an adult, but you’re still my little sister,” Alex said, her voice still soft, but determined as she squeezed your shoulder again. “And I want to be there for you,” 

“Now you want to be here for me. Now that everyone is watching you care. Now when it’s convenient,” You muttered, finally pulling yourself free of her hand. 

Her eyes snapped towards you, and the bitterness in your tone. “What?”

You paced towards the ball, taking extra time to fish it out of the back of the net, watching it as you directed it back towards the penalty spot. 

“You care now because that’s what you think is expected of you,” You said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “You care because it’s convenient for you now that we’re in the same place. When I go back to Chicago, you’re going to go back to not giving a fuck,” 

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Alex growled, catching your wrist, and whipping you around to face her. “I have never not given a fuck,” 

Your jaw worked like you were contemplating the next words to come out of your mouth, and you slowly looked up to meet her eyes. 

They weren’t the icy stone that she expected or the cold blue that she had become accustomed to. 

They were a deep turquoise, vibrant, and… open. Vulnerable in a way they hadn’t been since you were 9 years old. 

“You just left me,” You said. “And then I was alone,”

Something dark lingered under your words. Something that she knew you weren’t saying. Something that she had a feeling was far deeper than what happened after the Olympics. 

“You have never been alone,” Alex grit out, the hand on your arm tightening. 

You rolled your eyes, ripping away from her grasp for the second time. “Whatever Alex,” 

Alex opened her mouth, a scathing retort on the tip of her tongue, but she didn’t let it fly. She paused, watching the way you focused back on the ball. You flicked it up onto your toe box, juggling it a few times before you let it fall perfectly on the penalty spot. 

She recognized the movement. It was the same one you used when you were young, and you felt too vulnerable to talk. When you needed to control your emotions. 

She let out a long breath, calming the agitation still simmering in her chest. 

You wouldn’t respond to anger and harsh retorts. No. She had to take a more gentle approach. One that wouldn’t threaten your vulnerability. 

“I shouldn’t have left right after the game in Rio,” She said softly, taking a very slow step toward you. “I’m sorry that I didn’t stay to make sure you were alright,” 

Your shoulders rolled, and you positioned yourself to take another kick. “I didn’t need you to stay,” 

“I also should have checked on you after we got back, instead of just assuming that you were fine,” She pushed on as if you hadn’t spoken.

A strange sort of grimace flashed across your features. One you tried to smother as you did your signature run-up, keeping your hips square (and turning your foot out slightly wider) as you took your kick.

The net swished as the ball made contact, banging into the top right corner with a satisfying rattle. 

It was still amazing to her how quickly you could make adjustments. How easy it was for you to figure out the body mechanics to make a slight change work. 

She took another step towards you. “I know I haven’t been there for you, but I want to be. Not because I think it’s what’s expected of me, but because you’re my sister and I love you,”

She wanted to reach out and catch your shoulder again. To force you to look at her, but she knew that wouldn’t help. 

All she could do was watch as the words filtered through your brain; as you worked them over in your head; as you realized that she wasn’t looking for a fight or defend herself and your posture very slowly relaxed. 

“There’s an app,” Alex continued, taking the last step towards you, getting so close that she was nearly brushing your back. “It tracks miles, and fitness, and calories, and I think it could help us reconnect if you want to try it,” 

She could see the way your jaw worked, as you stepped away from her to collect the ball from the net again like you were chewing on her both words and her offer. 

The offer she meant to make while the two of you were still in Rio. 

She waited as you rolled the ball out of the net, flipping it between your feet for a long minute before you finally looked up and met her eyes. “Ok,” 

She nodded, more to herself than to you, just thankful that you had responded at all. She hadn’t expected even that. 

“I love you,” She repeated softly, reaching out and catching your hand and squeezing in 3 slow pulses. 

You squeezed it in return. “I love you too,” 

The slight reluctance in your tone bothered her, but she would take what she could get with you. It was more than she had gotten in a very long time. 

You cleared your throat, breaking the comforting silence that stretched between you. “When I want to kick it left, would I just angle my plant foot in the opposite direction?”

She blinked, once, twice, 3 times. “Yeah. It’ll help you prevent your hips from telegraphing,” 

You hummed, turning away. 

She should have known that you wouldn’t comment further. That you would turn back to football as soon as you could. She knew it wasn’t personal. 

But she wished it didn’t sting as much. 

******

You glanced down at the new addition to your right wrist, shaking your hand and testing how much the little watch slid with the movement. You had been playing with it since Kelley passed it to you at breakfast. 

You didn’t know that Alex’s app required a stupid piece of jewelry, but you hadn’t had the heart to take it off yet. Not when she was actually trying. 

It was still irritating to you, and you worried that it would get in the way during your afternoon practice and lift session, even if you wouldn’t be allowed to join their walkthrough. 

You didn’t want to break it before you really got to use it. You didn’t think that your Red Stars salary would stretch enough to cover a new one. Not when you were planning extra trips to New York. 

You sighed, grabbing your cup of green juice and taking a large sip. 

You were probably going to have to budget more as it was. Flights weren’t cheap, and neither was food, or a hotel (even if Taylor insisted you could stay with her. As her best friend).

“Hey kid,” Jill said, knocking on the Hotel lobby table. “Got a second?”

You gulped down the liquid and gestured towards the empty couch across from you. “Always coach,”

She smiled and settled into the seat. You leaned forward in your own, your drink landing on the table with a thunk. 

“We’re placing you on the active roster for the game against Canada,” Jill said. “Roary said that you had been making slow improvements, but I wanted to see for myself. You’ve proven that you deserve the spot,” 

“I…-“ You blinked at her. “Thank you. I will not let you down,” 

She waved you off. “I’d like to see some nice linking with Mallory and your sister. I want to really push Trancredi and Chapman,” 

“I can do that,” You nodded seriously. You knew you could get balls to Alex and Mal. You knew you could stretch the defense. 

You were a menace on the pitch, especially when you had something to prove. 

You had everything to prove. 

“I know,” Her lips ticked up and she reached across the table to pat your knee as she stood. “Go eat. You’ll be joining full team practice after lunch, and dawn will have my head if you pass out,”

You matched her smile. “Yes, coach. Thank you,” 

“You’ve earned it,” She said, turning and heading off towards the meal room, but she paused before she exited the lobby. “And stop hiding from your friends,” 

You blushed but nodded in agreement anyway. She winked as she left, and you couldn’t help the bubbling laugh that left your lips, undeterred by her request to stop icing out the team. 

She invited you because she wanted to see your progress herself. She wanted to see if you were progressing as slowly as Roary said you were, and you had proven that you weren’t. You had proven you were an asset. 

You had proven them wrong. 

The elation filled your chest, like champagne in a shaken bottle and all you wanted was to let it out. You wanted to tell someone. 

Well, not someone. You wanted to tell Taylor. 

She was the one who convinced them that you could prove them wrong after all. The one who had been there for you, even before you took the penalty kick in Rio. 

You grabbed your green juice from the table and pushed yourself up from the armchair, pulling your phone out of your pocket as you hung a left down a side hallway by the meal room so you could have some privacy before you faced the rest of the team. 

You easily flicked through your contacts, pausing over the one you had recently changed from blondie to Athena after the goddess of wisdom, and pressing it gently. 

“Hey, what’s up,” Taylor’s smiling face met you after the second ring. “Everything ok?” 

“Better than ok,” You nodded excitedly, flashing her a brilliant grin. “Jill added me to the active squad, and I’m playing in the game on Saturday against Canada,” 

Her eyes lit up. “Oh my god! That’s amazing! I’m so proud of you!”

Red leaked into your cheeks. “Thanks,” 

She hummed, her smile shifting into something softer, silence stretching between you for a long second. 

“What time?” She asked, and your eyebrows pulled tightly together. “What?” 

“The game,” She said, the soft look never leaving her eyes. “What time is it on?”

“6ish I think?” Your voice tilted up in question. 

The truth was you didn’t actually know what time the game was on. You didn’t know what time you needed to be on the bus, or when warmups started. 

It was the nice thing about camp. 

You never had to think about a schedule. You just went with the flow.

“I’ll look on the USWNT website,” Taylor rolled her eyes affectionately at you. 

“Good plan,” You said, your head bobbing. 

You opened your mouth to add a quip, but the sound of your name interrupted you. 

You blinked up at the new voice, suddenly realizing that your side hallway wasn’t as private as you thought it was. 

“You’re going to miss lunch,” Mal said, and you wondered how long she had been standing there. How long had she listened in? 

You waved her off. “Just save me a plate,”

You could eat after you were finished with your call. 

“No,” Mal glared at the phone in your hand.  “come on,” 

“You’ve gotta go,” Taylor interjected softly before you could send whatever whippy retort was on your tongue towards Mal, pulling your attention back to the screen. “We’ll talk later, I promise,”  

“I’ll see you later,” You sighed, waving towards Taylor before hanging up, a millisecond before Mal peeked at the screen. 

“That was rude,” You grumbled, slapping her arm when she was close enough. “I was having a conversation,” 

“Well, you were late,” Mal said, rolling her eyes and hooking her arm through yours to pull you tightly to her as she dragged you towards the meal room. “And you get grumpy when you don’t eat,” 

You got more grumpy when you didn’t get to talk to Taylor, but you didn’t voice that thought. 

You didn’t need anyone else questioning your relationship with Taylor, not when she was very firmly your friend. 

OoOoOoO

September 2016

Is it cool that I said all that?

Is it too soon to do this yet?

Cause I know that it’s delicate

The craziness that was August simmered down considerably as soon as September started. It was like the sudden chill in the air was a balm to the insanity that always accompanied the stretch to the playoffs.

With Chicago at the very bottom of the table, well besides Orlando, you knew that your season would likely end in 4 games. It should have made you feel bad, but it didn’t. All you could muster was a strange sense of… blaséness. 

You didn't have it in you to care after the loss of the Olympics. Not in a league that didn’t matter. 

It wasn’t like you were playing for Arsenal. 

What you did care about was that you had earned your national team spot back. 

With 2 assists and a goal yourself against Canada, you had solidified why you deserved your callup. That was before you found out that Taylor was there. 

Things only got better when you got to see her after the game. When you got to hug her and hear her say how proud she was of you. When you got to solidify your plans to see her when you played against Sky Blue. 

Nothing could dampen your… excitement, not even Mal (drunkenly) hanging off of you during the post-game dinner celebration. 

That carried over into your upset win over Portland with Chicago, and the week of practice you had between them and your game in New York. 

And now, sitting in the back of a dark dive bar in Tribeca, trying to ignore your drunk friends (teammates and foes) celebrating, your excitement. Your happiness was nearly palpable. 

Taylor was going to swing by before you left, and the two of you were set to hang out tomorrow too.  

But still, you couldn’t get rid of the nagging feeling in the back of your mind. Of the butterflies that fluttered in your chest each time you so much as thought about Taylor. 

You tried to slam a lid on it. To shove it into a little box, because you knew that if you let it out, you would fuck up your friendship. 

It was how you saved your friendship with Mal after all wasn't it?

You had swallowed the lump in your throat, and taken the little piece of her that she gave you. You had even listened to her talk about him while the two of you cuddled. 

But it was different because you weren’t sleeping with Taylor. 

“Hey, sorry I’m kinda late,” Taylor said, just as a hand landed very gently on your shoulder. 

Your lips instantly ticked up at Taylor’s voice and you turned towards the back of the bar to greet her (slightly surprised she hadn’t come in the front). “Hey, no worries,”

You pushed yourself to your feet and pulled her into a tight hug. Your nose pressed against her neck, and you tried not to think about how the scent of lavender and something so innately Taylor put your swirling thoughts at ease. 

You leaned back with a genuine grin, and slid her the drink you had ordered for her “Old fashion right?”

She frowned but took the drink anyway. “How did you order this? You’re not 21 yet,” 

You shrugged and slid back onto your stool. “I didn’t have to order it,” 

She took the stool next to you, her eyebrows lifting. 

“Really I didn’t,” You said, reaching for your own glass. “The losing team always buys the first round at least,” 

She eyed it warily as you brought it to your lips, taking a sip of her own.

“It’s water,” You said before she could ask. “Because Kelley and Christen strongly disapprove of underage drinking,”

“I do too,” Taylor hummed, leaning closer to you so she could hear you over the bar noise. 

“I know,” You said, sending her a cheeky smile. “How was the studio? Cooking up something good?”

She took a sip of her drink. “I think so. I can show you some of them tomorrow,”

“That would be cool,” You nodded, your eyes flickering towards your teammates. “There’s also a cool little brunch spot in TriBeCa. It’s called the bus stop,”

“I’ve heard about it,” Taylor hummed. “It’s like two blocks from my apartment,” 

“I can pick you up tomorrow and we can go,” You said, watching Taylor carefully. “Roary gets upset when I skip out early,” 

You didn’t want to be too… forward. 

You didn’t want to tip the hand on your feelings when you knew she didn’t feel the same. 

“That should work,” Taylor agreed, without even blinking. “I’ll let Jason know you’re coming and I’ll text you directions to the back entrance,” 

“Jason?” You smirked, trying to keep your voice neutral, and wiggled your eyebrows to complete the effect. “Have a boyfriend you’re not telling me about?”

She was your friend you reminded yourself. You weren’t allowed to feel upset if she was dating someone. She probably wasn’t even interested. 

“No,” Taylor chuckled around a sip of her drink. “Jason is my head of security. He’ll let the team know that you’re not just some random fan,”

“Have many of them knock on your door?” You asked, your smirk widening into something that reminded her of a Cheshire Cat grin as you nudged her shoulder gently. 

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” She sighed heavily and a dark look crossed over her features (making you instantly regret the joking tone you had used). “It’s only gotten worse lately, especially since the video came out,”

You grimaced, your nose scrunching adorably. 

You thought the entire handling of the situation by Kanye’s camp was fucking disgusting. You thought he was a total narcissistic creeper and a douche. 

You had already gotten your national team teammates to agree not to listen to it. 

“If he’s ever at a game, I’ll put a price on who can peg him in the head more times,” You Promised with a short nod, and it earned you the desired effect of her giggle. “But seriously I think it’s fucking gross and that he needs to get a life,” 

“I appreciate that, but I don’t need you to fight for me,”  She said, laying a hand on your shoulder. 

“I know,” You nodded. “But I will anyway. A man should know how to treat people,” 

You would always be willing to defend her honor, just like you would defend Mal or any of your teammates. 

Well, maybe this wasn’t like Mal. You didn’t crave Mal’s soft smile or… praise like you did Taylor’s. You didn’t need Mal to acknowledge your bravery like you wanted Taylor to…

God you were really starting to lose the plot. 

Taylor was your friend. 

“I appreciate it,” She said, red coloring her cheeks. “Anyway, what are your other plans for tonight?”

“I’m going to help Christen drag the team back to the hotel, and then I’ll probably crash,” You shrugged, gesturing towards where Christen and Kelley were dancing with Huerta and Sam Kerr. “This way I’m actually awake to hang out with you tomorrow,” 

Taylor’s lips quirked up into a teasing grin. “I do prefer you conscious,” 

You wiggled your eyebrows, shifting on your stool to block Taylor from the view of your teammates when you caught Christen's eye. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust them, you just wanted to keep Taylor to yourself. You didn’t want to have to share her. 

“I didn’t know you owned anything other than sweatpants,” Taylor continued, gesturing towards the dark blue jeans you had accented with a pair of Batman Nikes.

You took a sip of your water to cover the light pink that dusted your cheeks. Maybe you had dressed up because you knew you were meeting her at the bar. “We won, so I had to wear something other than warm-up gear. Christen picked them,” 

Christen had helped you because you didn’t actually know how to put an outfit together. You wore sweats because they went with everything. You didn’t have to think about things matching. 

So by the 3rd try, the forward had taken pity on you. Picking a Manchester City jersey to go with your dark pants and your Nike kicks. 

Taylor hummed, smiling very gently at you like she was reading your mind. 

Really, she was fighting to keep her eyes from tracing your arms where you had rolled the jersey sleeves, and from dipping down to where your jeans hugged your ass. 

“Will you be back to your normal style tomorrow, or is she going to pick your outfit again?”

You rolled your eyes at the playful question. “Depends, do I get anything if I dress up?”

“I’ll buy you breakfast,” She smirked and you chuckled, more red bleeding into your cheeks. “Or brunch,” 

“I think that sounds like a fair trade,” You chuckled, nodding along. She giggled at you, and it was like music to your ears, even against the backdrop of the noisy bar. 

It made your smile broaden, just like it always did. It shouldn’t fill your chest with so much pride that you were the reason she was giggling. 

You really needed to get a handle on yourself before you did something stupid that pushed her away. 

You needed to make sure you wouldn’t ruin your friendship. 

You didn’t know what you would do if you lost Taylor. 

********

“I don’t think words can describe how adorable she is,” Taylor sighed towards her phone, taking a sip of her red wine. “I swear she blushes every time I so much as look at her,” 

It wasn’t her first glass of the night. It wasn’t even her second. 

She had opened the bottle as soon as she had gotten back from the bar, and now it was verging on halfway gone. 

She could feel the effects starting to take place, the way it loosened up her muscles and tongue. The way she couldn’t stop gushing about everything that had happened with you up to this point, not that her best friend was in the dark. She had been telling Selena about you for months, recounting each interaction the two of you had from the texting to the pillow fort cuddles. 

Selena hummed, taking a sip of her own wine on the other side of the phone. “I’m surprised considering how… fierce she was on the field. She almost murdered someone today,”

Taylor rolled her eyes. 

You had gotten in a defender's face after a bad tackle just outside of the box, turning angrily towards the reff when no yellow card followed the challenge. 

“That was a bad call and the reff knew it. The defender came in studs up and ruined a good through ball opportunity,” She said. 

Selena raised an eyebrow. “You know you sound like you’re speaking a different language right?”

It was something that had been happening more frequently. Taylor explaining soccer plays and referring to teams using phrases that Selena had never heard before. With all the time the singer had been spending with you, it shouldn’t have been surprising that Taylor would pick up on the dialect that was always on your lips. 

That didn’t mean that Taylor’s best friend couldn’t tease her for it. 

“Y/n was right to get upset. The defender could have hurt her,” Taylor reiterated seriously. 

“I’m sure,” Selena’s tone dripped with sarcasm as she studied her for a long moment. “When are you going to admit that your sudden interest in soccer is because you’re interested in her,”

Deep red immediately bled into Taylor’s cheeks, setting her face aflame.

 “I've already admitted that,” She muttered, hiding behind a sip. 

“Let me rephrase then,” Selena said, a trading smirk on her lips. “When are you going to admit it to her, because no offense, but she obviously hasn’t gotten the message yet, even after you continue to fly out to her games,”

Taylor choked on her wine, “I thought she finally understood tonight. She saved me a spot away from her teammates so we could have privacy, but then she said something about us being best friends when she walked me to the car,” 

“You’re going to have to be more direct,” Selena said, as Taylor took the last sip from her glass. 

“It’s just…” Taylor sighed, setting the empty glass down. “She’s still so young. She just turned 19. I don’t want to… I don’t know, pressure her into something,”

“I don’t think you are,” Selena said slowly, her lips pursing. “You’re both adults who can consent, and even though you’re older, I don’t think there's an unfair power dynamic happening. You’re her sister’s age right?”

“Yes,” Taylor nodded. 

Her and Alex were both born in 1989, and actually, your sister was older than her by almost 6 months, and you were very much an adult. She had made sure of that, refusing to even pursue a friendship until you were 18. 

“Then it’s not like you're some older woman trying to take advantage of her,” 

“No, I’m not. I would never,” Taylor immediately agreed. 

She would do anything to make sure you weren’t being taken advantage of. She knew how powerful existing dynamics could be, and she did her best to avoid their effects. 

You had to consent at every stage, even your friendship. 

“Then there you go,” Selena shrugged, wiggling her fingers at the screen. “Now can you please stop with the pining and make an actual move? It’s less fun than it was before,” 

Taylor threw her head back with a groan. “But how,” 

She had literary flown across the country because you had been added to the starting lineup for the national team and you still didn’t catch the message. 

Selena chuckled. “You’ve literally written a song about it,”

Taylor groaned again. 

She knew the song that Taylor was talking about. She could hear How you get the girl ringing in her head. 

But this was different. 

You didn’t even know about the pressure that had driven them apart. The demands that her management had of her. The complications of her… profession made it impossible for them to be together in the way that she wanted. 

And she hadn’t communicated that nearly as well as she wanted to. 

“That was different. I fucked up and Diana wouldn’t talk to me,” She said softly, 

“But you know the basics. It’s even raining,” Selena shrugged for a 3rd time, smiling impishly at her. “It doesn’t have to be complicated,” 

Taylor bit her lip. 

Selena made it sound simple, but maybe it was. 

“You’re right,” Taylor hummed, a plan forming in her mind. “I'll call you later. After,” 

Selena smirked. “Good luck with lover girl, but I don’t think you’ll need it,” 

“Thanks,” 

******

Taylor shouldn’t have been shocked by how easy it was to get into the hotel that the team was staying at. She shouldn’t have been surprised that the teenager behind the front desk gave her a room number with very little persuading. 

There also hadn’t been any security on the elevator. Or on the floor, your room was on. 

It was a little scary that she could get to you with literally no one stepping in, but considering your frequently snarky comments about how little people actually cared about you and the league, she should’ve expected it. 

If you said yes. If you started a relationship with her, she would have to do something to put a barrier between you and the fans. 

You probably wouldn’t like the idea of someone trailing you around, like Jason and her team trailed her, but it would be necessary. She would have to talk to Jason about it. Maybe Tony would be up for the job, you seemed to like him anyway. 

Finding your door was as easy as getting the number from the receptionist. 

But she paused in front of the ugly red door, her heart pounding on her chest. 

She swallowed hard, lifting her hand and knocking three times on the door. 

She had no reason to be nervous. You loved seeing her, and it wasn’t like you could bring one of your… conquests to a hotel room you shared with a teammate. 

It would just be your sleepy smile that would meet her. The one where your eyes crinkled and you ran a hand through your ever-unruly curls. 

But it wasn’t your tired smile that met her. 

Instead, it was Christen’s Press’ wide smirk, as the older forward opened the door. 

“So you’re the mystery girl from the bar,” Christen’s chin tilted towards her as she leaned against the doorframe. “I thought I recognized you,”

Taylor’s fingers wound into her cardigan, and she swallowed trying to get some moisture in her suddenly dry throat. 

“Is Y/n here?” 

Her voice came out shaky, horse. 

Christen bit her lip, watching Taylor closely like she was a specimen under a microscope. 

“She is not,” She said finally, her arms crossing over her chest, almost defensively. 

“Oh,” 

Taylor’s whole being deflated. 

If you weren’t here, then where were you? Who were you with?

Christen glanced into the room behind her. “She should be back soon though. Wicked started at 8, and she swore it was only a 3-hour show with a thirty-minute intermission,” 

Taylor’s eyebrows furrowed. “She’s on Broadway?” 

You insisted that you hated anything with a plot, but Broadway musicals had a plot. You had also told her that you were just going to hang out at the hotel with your friends. 

Why had you lied? 

Taylor could see the pity in her eyes, and she hated it. 

“Yeah,” Christen nodded once. “She sees at least one show every time she’s in New York. It’s like her 8th time seeing Wicked, but it’s her favorite,” 

“Oh,” Taylor breathed out. 

A pained look crossed Christen’s face, and she shifted on the door frame. 

“I’m sure you’ve heard about y/n’s reputation. I just…,” Christen’s voice was soft, hesitant even. “If… you woke up alone… or if she promised you something…”

Taylor frowned immediately shaking her head. “We didn’t-. She didn’t-. I wanted to talk to her about our plans for tomorrow,” 

Relief washed across Christen’s face. “Good. The two of you looked adorable in the bar, and she wouldn’t shut up about you. She has a habit of ruining things she thinks she doesn’t deserve,” 

Taylor’s eyebrows furrowed. 

What did Christen mean? What did you ruin? 

“You said she’s seeing Wicked tonight?” Taylor asked, her head tilting. 

Jason should be able to get her close to the theater before they let out. Maybe she could catch you. 

Christen nodded, sensing that Taylor was already forming another plan. “Yes. Jackie Burns is playing Elphaba and she’s one of y/n’s favorites,” 

“Thanks,” 

Taylor was already turning away from her, phone in hand. 

Christen caught her arm before she could retreat down the hall, and Taylor met her deep green eyes. “Just… treat her right, ok?”

“I will,” 

Both women felt the weight of the words. The promise. 

“There will be a hoard of angry footballers with a bounty on your head if you don’t,” Christen’s lips cracked into a smile as she released the singer. “Y/n doesn’t just let anyone close to her,”

“I know,” Taylor matched her grin. 

Taylor had already gotten close to you. Closer than you had let nearly everyone before her. Now she just had to actually get you to agree that your relationship was more.

She would, and then she would protect your relationship and you with everything she had. 

******

Sometimes, being a professional soccer player was… strange. 

Strange because you played on a well-known team, but that you could easily disappear into a crowd. Strange because strangers on the internet all so many opinions about you, but none of them actually knew you. 

They didn’t know how much you loved musicals because it let you escape the truth of your own reality for a few hours. They didn’t know how much you loved the way the skyscrapers were accented against the star-dotted sky. How the billboards lit up the sidewalk and the pedicabs and taxis when you stepped out of a show. 

How the rain made the lights twinkle like the street was covered in fairy dust. 

How the cool October air filled your lungs as you shoved your hands deeper into your pockets as you left the Gershwin Theater. 

You would stay and stand at the stage door, but it was already nearing midnight. You promised Christen you wouldn’t be back too late, and the dollar pizza guy around the corner from the hotel closed at 1. You would not be missing out on a greasy one-dollar slice. It was tradition after all, and you already had Jackie Burns’ signature on a framed shirt. 

Plus the rain made anything but finding the subway entrance something you wholeheartedly didn’t want to do. 

“Y/n,” 

You dipped your head at the call of your name, slipping further into the crowd and leaving the theater. 

You didn’t think that anyone would recognize you. They rarely ever did, but then again your face had been plastered all over the place since Rio. 

You weren’t in the mood to deal with fans anyway, even after a solid win over Sky Blue. Not while you were getting soaked. 

“Y/n, wait!” 

You pulled your hood over your head, ignoring the way it pressed into your damp curls, and hunched your shoulders in an attempt to make yourself disappear. 

You just needed to get around the corner of the Barclay building and cut between the hotdog cart and Juniors and you would be safe in the subway station. Away from prying eyes and the drenching rain, and back towards the team hotel in SoHo. 

“Y/n,” 

The voice was even closer, and a hand caught your arm just as you made it to the corner, pulling you to a dead stop. You let out a long, weary breath, painting a million-dollar smile on your face as you turned. 

Yelling at a fan wouldn’t go over well. 

But it melted as soon as you saw exactly who had grabbed you. 

“Taylor?” Her hair was plastered to her head, her dark gray cardigan soaked through, and her blue eyes accented by running makeup. “Where is your coat? What are you doing here?” 

“I need to talk to you,” 

“We need to get you out of this rain,” You muttered, ignoring her. You yanked your zipper down, and tugged your arms out of your jacket, tucking it around her shoulders and pulling the hood over her head. “You’re going to get sick,” 

You caught her hand after you zipped the coat around her and began to drag her towards the subway. 

At least the 51st station was heated. 

“Y/n wait,” 

Her slippery fingers tugged on yours, trying to slow you down. Trying to stop you. 

“No. It’s like 50 degrees out here and raining,” You grumbled, not even looking at her. 

How had she found you? Why was she out in the rain looking for you? What if she got Pneumonia because she chased after you without a coat?

You were trying to remember what Alex and Kelley always said about rain and cold, after rain games. You were trying to remember how Alex would get you warmed up when you were young. 

“Y/n, stop,” Taylor tugged at your hand again, and you glanced over your shoulder at her, still refusing to stop pulling her towards the subway. 

“What? I don’t want you to get sick and die,” You bit back, as the rain got harder, bouncing off Taylor’s hood in large, heavy drops. “Why would you come out here without a raincoat or an umbrella? Or-,”

Taylor jerked you towards her before you could finish, and before you could process what was happening, her lips met yours, stealing the end of your sentence. 

You blinked, your lips frozen for a long second, taking in the feeling of Taylor’s warm lips accented by the cool drops of rain. 

It was like your brain had short-circuited. 

You couldn’t kiss back, or pull away (even though you didn’t want you). All you could do was stand here, mouth halfway open, blinking owlishly at her. 

Her thumb brushed against your cheek as she leaned back, her eyebrows furrowed with worry that she had crossed a line. “Y/n,” 

You blinked again, water dripping off your lashes. 

Taylor kissed you. 

She kissed you in the rain. 

Taylor liked you. 

But she hadn’t said that. She hadn’t said anything. 

You blinked for a third time, tilting your chin up and leaning forward to connect your lips again.

 Taylor sucked in a breath before gently returning the kiss. 

Your lips moved together like they were made for each other. It was slow and warm, and… wet, accented by the rain dripping down your faces. 

Your hands found her waist, your fingers squeezing her hips, and hers tangled in the soaked baby hairs at the back of your neck. 

It was a perfect first kiss. Something out of a fairytale, or one of Taylor’s songs. 

You finally pulled away, breathing heavily through your nose, almost like you had run a full 90. 

“It’s raining, and I don’t want you to get sick,” You mumbled, leaning in and pecking her lips again. 

“Jason and the car are that way,” She said, gesturing back toward the theater.

You lifted your head in that direction, noting the sleek, black Escalade among the yellow cabs. You couldn’t see who was inside, but you knew that that would be true even if it wasn’t nighttime and pouring with the blacked-out windows. 

It had to be worth more than pretty much everything you owned, and you were soaked through. 

It would ruin the interior, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to afford fixing it.

Taylor shivered though, and you sighed, nodding. “Let’s get you warmed up,” 

“You need to get warm too,” Taylor hummed, trailing her hand down your bare arm and catching your fingers. “I have towels in the car,” 

You squeezed her hand, letting her lead you towards the car. The door was open by the time you got to it, the back seat already littered with black towels and a blanket. 

Taylor slid in first, and you followed after her, wiping your curls out of your eyes, and allowing her to wrap a towel around you, even though you didn’t feel cold. 

“Back to your apartment?” The bulky blonde man in the front seat asked, turning to look at Taylor. 

“I have to go back to the team hotel,” You said before she could answer him. “I’ll get in trouble with the coaching staff if I don’t go back, and it’ll upset my teammates,” 

Taylor’s hand landed on your thigh, squeezing gently like she was telling you that she would take care of it. 

“The hotel it is,” The man smiled, turning back towards the steering wheel, and flicking one of the buttons near the center console. More heat began to flood the car, as it inched forward. “Traffic is pretty bad with this rain, so it’ll be a bit,”

“Thanks, Jay,” Taylor sighed, grabbing the blanket and tossing it over the two of you. “We’re not in a hurry,” 

He glanced up at you in the rearview mirror. “Would you like me to put up the privacy curtain?”

Taylor’s lips curved into a playful smile, and she squeezed your thigh again. “No. Not tonight,” 

You raised an eyebrow at her. 

Did she do this often? This couldn’t have been the first time she was with someone in the back of the car. 

The thought made your stomach tumble.

Maybe the kiss wasn’t because she wanted something more, but because she wanted… sex. It wouldn’t be a shocker with your reputation. You were easy, always up for a lay. She just wanted to blow off some steam. 

You shut down that thought. 

It didn’t matter. 

“Are you warm enough?” Taylor asked, and your eyes snapped up to meet hers. 

“Hm?” your eyebrows furrowed deeper. 

You didn’t feel cold. 

She reached up very slowly, brushing a stray curl from your forehead and laying a thumb very gently on your lips. “Your lips are still trembling,” 

You leaned into the warmth of her hand, unable to stop yourself. “Oh, I’m ok. I’ve had to play in the rain before. This isn’t that bad,” 

She looked unconvinced, her other hand adjusting your towel so it covered more of your frame. “You shouldn’t have given me your jacket,”

“You shouldn’t have been out in that without one,” You shrugged, earning an eye roll. 

“I had important things to talk to you about,” She said, her thumb dragging from your lips to brush your cheek. 

Your lips tilted into a teasing smirk. “I don’t think we actually talked,”

“But I think you got the message,” She murmured, completing the circuit with her thumb back towards your lips. 

“Did I?” Your eyebrow quirked up at her. 

She tapped your lips, before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to them. You couldn’t help the way you leaned into her, and kissed back, even if it had warning sirens blaring in your head. 

You would ignore the gnawing feeling that this would ruin your friendship and that Taylor would leave when she was done with you 

“You did,” She hummed as she pulled away, her thumb gliding across your cheek again. 

She sounded so sure of herself. Far more sure than you felt. 

Maybe Emily was right. 

Maybe you should just go with it.

OoOoOoO

You let out a long breath, leaning your forehead against the cool, hotel room door, watching as little water droplets slid down the smooth, red surface. Your hand rested on the handle, but you had no intention of opening it.

Not yet. 

Not while your head still felt like it was in a blender. 

Not while you were still reeling from the feeling of Taylor’s soft lips pressed into yours. Of her thumb making circuits from your cheek to your lips and back. Of her blue eyes staring at you like she could see beneath your skin like she wanted you more than she wanted anything else. 

But she couldn’t want you. 

She probably just wanted to… experiment, and your reputation made you an easy choice. 

You blew out another breath, hoping that the feeling of it leaving your lungs would help steady the shakiness in your knees. 

It was embarrassing, but you had been fantasizing about what her lips would feel like, how she would taste, for a long time. And now that you had actually tasted them, well, it was a craving you weren’t sure you’d ever be able to satiate. It would be so much worse when she decided she didn’t want you. 

You watched a water droplet slide down the door, lazily making its way around a chip in the paint. 

But maybe she did want you. 

You had chased you down in the rain, without a jacket, after all, and kissed you in the street like she didn’t care who was looking. 

You let out one more breath, fishing the key card out of your back pocket and pressing it against the lock until it clicked. You let your forehead push the door open, only lifting it after you had stepped inside the hotel room. 

You weren’t surprised to see that the lights were still on, and Christen was still sitting up in bed a book in her hand and her reading glasses still firmly in place. 

“I was about to send out a search party,” She hummed, catching her bookmark from the nightstand and carefully placing it into the book. It was only then that she looked up at you, a frown pulling at her lips. “Why are you all wet? Where is your jacket?”

You had the decency to send her a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry. I got distracted and then Tony’s pizza stand was closed so I had to go to the corner slice in Tribeca. I lost my jacket somewhere along the way,” 

You pulled your sodden Manchester City jersey over your head. “Do you think it can be saved?” 

Christen rolled her eyes and pushed herself to stand, crossing the room to the small closet and pulling out a hanger. “Let’s hang dry it, and we’ll see,” 

You followed after her towards the bathroom, turning it the right way out and gingerly sliding it onto the hanger. “It has to be ok. Bronze is my favorite and my parents finally got a name right,” 

She took it from you and hooked it around the shower curtain rail. “A true miracle that I’m sure Alex had nothing to do with,” 

Alex couldn’t have had anything to do with it. You never told her that you liked Bronze. You had only told Rosie. 

Though you weren’t sure how your parents had picked the right one…

She turned back to you, her eyes flickering to the skin just above your lips. A smirk broke across her face and she reached up to brush her thumb over your cheek. “Is that lipstick?”

You jerked your head away from her. “No,” 

There was no way Taylor’s lipstick could be on your soaking-wet skin. Not with the way the rain had drenched the two of you. 

Except… 

your eyes closed. 

Taylor had kissed your cheek before you exited the car. You slipped out of the Escalade under the awning of the hotel, safe from the rain. 

“Let’s get the not lipstick off of you then,” Christen hummed noncommittally, pulling you closer to the sink. “How did you get so soaked?”

You waited until she turned away from you to dig into her makeup bag to answer, contemplating the words that you would say. 

Surely her advice would help too, but then her girlfriend would probably tell your sister. 

It would be easier if you just kept it all to yourself. If you just followed Emily’s advice and went with it. 

“I got distracted and the corner slice doesn’t have indoor seating,” you said, eying the bottles she was pulling from her bag, dabbing a cotton ball on the top. “What’s that?” 

“Makeup remover,” She hummed, her fingers catching your chin and tilting it so she had a better view of the offending red on your lips. “It must be waterproof, so this is the only thing that will get it off unless you want to dye the sheets red,”

Your nose scrunched at the acrid smell on the cotton ball as she very gently began to swipe it against your lips. You let your eyes slide closed, trying to ignore how small it made you feel. Trying to ignore how much it reminded you of when you were little. 

But it was too late.

You could feel the ghosts of her hands drawing across your cheeks in quick, practiced movements, and practically hear Alex’s “hold still little monkey,” ringing in your ears. You could see the soft smile that always played at her lips and the way her blue eyes focused as she helped you. 

“Hold still little monkey, I’ll be quick. I promise,” 

They were memories you didn’t want to remember. They brought a warm, protected feeling to your chest that you wanted to forget. 

The betrayal that followed would hurt less if you forgot if you didn’t remember the safety and care that had never been a question before it. The feelings that you were searching for in one bed or another. The feelings that you were convinced you would never feel again.

But then you met Taylor, and she made you want to believe you were wrong. 

“You’re good to go,” Christen said, pulling you back to reality. 

Your eyes blinked open, and you sent her a charming smile as you pulled away. “Thanks,”

She nodded back at you, watching you for a long minute like she wanted to say something she wasn’t sure about. 

“What?”

“Your hair is sticking up,” Christen quirked a small smile at you, and your eyes flickered toward the mirror, frowning.

You were sure that’s now what she was going to say, but you were grateful that she didn’t voice whatever thought she had.

But she was right. Amongst the mop of curls you had been letting grow since the undercut disaster of the 2015 World Cup, several were sticking up at strange angles. The one at the crown of your head standing straight up in a semi-hilarious impression of alfalfa from the little rascals. It was probably due to the water and wax that you always wore on game days to keep it out of your eyes mixing. 

They would be a bitch to fix in the morning if they dried like that. Maybe you would just wear a beanie over them instead of putting in the effort to fix them. Or maybe you would just chop them all off again.  

You reached for one of the small white hand towels, tossing it over your wild, tangled, soaked curls and dropping your pants with the other in a fluid motion. “I should dry off,”

Christen rolled her eyes, entirely used to your antics after spending a season in a locker room with you, and many more of being on the national team. She was just thankful you had a bra and boxers on. “And maybe get rid of the sex hair so the media doesn’t have a field day,” 

You wiggled your eyebrows at her, pushing her towards the bathroom door. “Well, what would they do with my reputation then,” 

Realize you’re not what you present yourself as Christen thought wryly. 

She wondered if Taylor had figured that out yet too. That you hid your sunshiney personality under a brash and untrusting exterior. 

The girl had gone chasing after you in the rain after all, so maybe, just maybe, she saw you for what you really were. And hopefully, she was prepared to give you what you needed. 

What you clearly didn’t feel you had the right to crave. 

******

November 2016

Windows flung right open, autumn air, 

Jacket ‘round my shoulders is yours

It was a strange feeling, being on the East Coast and it feeling like home. 

You had been raised on the West Coast. You spent the majority of your time in the center of the country, but somehow, you found yourself craving the crisp autumn air that only existed in the east. 

There was the possibility that you were just drawn to the city. That you were addicted to how into the game fans got, starting up chants for you even though you were on the opposing team. But there was also the slight chance that your new-found love of the city was directly tied to one of its most beloved inhabitants. 

You and Taylor had only grown impossibly closer in the time since the kiss. The flirty texts between the two of you were more frequent as were the half-dressed locker room photos and videos of you dancing at practice. The calls had also increased to the point where you almost always fell asleep listening to her slow breathing, and woke up to a good morning. 

But despite your increasing closeness, the two of you hadn’t defined what you were. And you had absolutely no clue where you stood. 

You pulled your knee closer to your chest, resting your cleat-covered foot on the bench next to you, and undoing the three special knots you always put in your custom red laces. 

You were thankful that camp was over. That you would get to spend some time in the city after the win. 

“Is there a reason you were terrorizing Colombia? Or was it just for fun?” Emily smirked, appearing on the bench next to you. 

You raised your eyebrows at her, a cocky smile pulling at your lips. “Do I need to have a reason to play well?”

“No,” Emily shrugged. 

It wasn’t your fault that their entire back line had crumbled under your and Alex’s pressure. It wasn’t your fault that Christen had cut through them collecting the balls you sent her way. 

It wasn’t your fault that the keeper had missed the chance to save 4 of your shots. 

“The crowd certainly enjoyed the display,” Rose added, sitting on your other side, effectively trapping you between them. “Just seems like your celebrations were a little too on the nose for you not to be… directing them at someone,” 

You rolled your eyes. Just because you blew a kiss towards a section of the stands after your 3rd goal, didn’t mean that it had been directed. And just because the chanting of your name only got louder after that didn’t mean it had been for them. 

Well, it didn’t have to mean it was directed, even if you did have a person in mind to receive it. 

No one else had to know that. 

“It was the section who did the Morgan magic chant,” You mumbled, pulling off your cleat and lining it next to the fancy pair of Vans you had chosen for tonight. 

“Got a hot date?” Emily asked, nudging your shoulder with her own as Rose turned from the two of you and became engrossed in a conversation with Sam. 

“Something like that,” You mumbled, moving on to your other cleat. “I’m still not sure… where I stand. With my friend.”

“The one you’ve been sending half-naked photos to?” Emily wiggled her eyebrows at you. 

You would never live down the after-training snapshots you had taken or the pictures from the weight room that you had sent off. 

You nodded reluctantly. “We’ve been more flirty since September,”

“Since the kiss?” She asked, watching as you shed your game shorts and grabbed a pair of jeans instead of your usual post-game sweats. 

“Yes,” You nodded, pausing for a second and biting your lip. “But I just… I’m going to fuck this up,” 

You ran a hand through your messy hair, still damp from the post-game shower. 

“You’re not,” Emily rolled her eyes, and she stole your shirt from your locker before you could pull it over your head, forcing you to look at her. “You’re doing pretty well so far. Just don’t make it complicated,” 

You met her eyes, swallowing hard. 

“Just go with it,” You repeated her own advice back to her. 

You were just having dinner and a movie night with Taylor. It would be familiar. Easy. 

It didn’t have to be complicated. 

“Exactly,” She agreed, tossing your shirt at you. “You seem to be going with the flow pretty well,” 

You pulled the green material over your head, reaching into your locker for your trusty hair wax, rubbing it between your hands, and trying to smooth out your hair. 

You glanced down at your phone when it buzzed. “Speaking of going with it, I’ve gotta go,” 

You slid the device into your pocket along with your wallet and hooked your fancy watch on your wrist. You shoved your feet into your Vans and sending a wink towards Sonnett. 

“I’ll make sure your bag makes it to Kelley. Tell Taylor I said hello,” She smirked, patting your back as you headed towards the locker room door. 

You looked over your shoulder at her. “No,” 

Before slamming the locker room door shut. 

You turned the corner, finding a quiet place in the hall, and leaned against the cool brick of the stadium, hoping no one would see you. 

Maybe you had directed your hat trick kiss towards where you knew a specific person was watching. 

You pulled your phone out of your pocket and opened your messages. 

You loved Emily, and Rose. You really did, but their propensity for butting in while you were texting had been particularly grating after they found out who you were sending messages to. 

They had already gotten a hold of your phone twice. Once they tried to call her and the second they sent a string of cryptic texts that had Taylor convinced you had gotten hurt at practice. It took you almost 3 hours to convince her that you were actually fine. You had even had to put her on the phone with Luke from the physical therapy staff to convince her that she didn’t need to fly in from Nashville early. After that, you stopped texting around them altogether and changed your password to a 37-digit code. 

Plus, Mal glared at you whenever you were on your phone. 

Athena 👸🏼: Tony and Jason are taking me to the back tunnel by the car. Do you want to meet us there, or do you want us to meet you somewhere else?

Your eyebrows pulled tightly together and you looked away from your phone and down the long hallway. 

You certainly didn’t want her to be anywhere near the locker room where your sister and your nosey teammates were. You weren’t ready to… share Taylor with them yet. You weren’t ready to answer questions when you weren’t even sure where you stood with her. 

Your relationship felt… fragile… and you weren’t ready to mess that up yet. 

Soccer hottie ⚽️: Stay put, I’ll meet you there. 

You pushed yourself off the wall, turning to your left and strolling down the maze of hallways. You didn’t need to look at the signs to know which way to go, you had been to Red Bull (and snuck out of it with company you wanted to keep away from prying eyes) enough that you had the layout memorized. 

“Hey hotshot,” 

“Hey,” You smiled widely as you rounded the corner and Tony came into view. 

You had been seeing him far more frequently since the kiss. Part of you thought it was because he just lived near you in Chicago. He liked the same smoothie place you did and frequented the same restaurants. 

But a smaller part of you wondered if Taylor had something to do with it. 

“I thought you would be waiting with Tay,” You said as he squeezed your arm, pulling your overnight bag from your shoulder and slinging it over his own. 

“She sent me to come find you,” Tony said, a teasing smirk pulling at his features. 

You knew it wasn’t you he was teasing. 

“I don’t need a babysitter,” You sighed, running a hand through your still-damp hair, brushing the unruly curls from in front of your eyes. 

“She was impatient,” He shrugged, unbothered by (or entirely used to) your protest, gesturing to the barely noticeable clear earpiece in his right ear. “I offered to find you and give her an eta,” 

The wire disappeared down the back of his shirt where you were sure it connected to a radio. You rolled your eyes. 

Maybe you should be flattered that she wanted live updates of your whereabouts, but you couldn’t help the sinking feeling in your chest that she didn’t think you were capable of making it to the car tunnel on your own. 

“I told her I was on my way like 2 minutes ago,” You huffed, glancing behind you. 

You hadn’t taken long after the game to exit the field. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. You finished the obligatory lap and then stayed to sign autographs for the fans that had cheered for you all game. 

You rushed through the showers after Vlatko’s post-game droning and changed quickly. 

“I know,” Tony agreed, falling into step beside you as you continued down the corridor. “She’s just excited to see you. You put on quite the show,” 

You wiggled your eyebrows. “The crowd got into it and that made scoring and setting up my friends more fun,” 

Tony made a low humming noise as he stepped in front of you, pushing open the double doors that led to the private car tunnel so you didn’t have to. 

You barely stepped through before a body collided with yours. 

Your hands caught Taylor’s hips as you stumbled, and she wrapped you in a very tight hug. 

“I missed you,” She mumbled, and you felt a hand on your back to steady the two of you. 

You hummed, tucking your nose into her collarbone and squeezing her. “I missed you too,” 

It was true. 

It had only been six weeks since the last time you saw her in person, and you talked at least once a day, but it was a feeling of longing that saturated your being. Her presence was a deep… need that seeped into your bones. 

It was a little alarming how… dependent you felt.

The two of you embraced for another long moment, and you let the smell of coconut and lavender from her perfume wash over your senses and soothe the post-game dip that always prickled your brain. 

“You played so so well,” She said, pulling away, a wide smile radiating off of her.

You let your own cocky grin pull across your features. “Thanks, I like to get the crowd fired up,” 

“They were electric,” She hummed, letting her hand trail down your arm and landing lightly on your stomach. 

You opened your mouth to respond, but Your stomach ruined the moment with a loud rumble. 

Taylor frowned. “Have you eaten today?” 

“Not really. I had lunch and then just a protein bar and a veggie shake,” You shrugged, sending a guilty look her way. “I don’t like to have a lot in my stomach during games,” 

It was a bad habit you had picked up in highschool after a very hot game in August ended up with your pasta lunch making a reappearance in a sideline trash can. 

“There’s a fantastic Italian place by mine?” Taylor offered, almost shyly as your stomach rumbled again against her hand. 

You leaned in and pressed a very sweet kiss to her lips, unable to resist, and enjoying the light red that dusted her cheeks. 

Your hand slipped into her back pocket, and you sent her a cheeky smile. “Lead the way then,”

OoOoOoO

Dinner with Taylor was absolutely incredible. Well, confusing for you, but amazing nonetheless. 

The restaurant she had chosen was small, intimate, and expensive. You looked through the entire menu, choosing the cheapest pasta you could find, even though you fucking hated pesto because it was the only dish that wouldn’t mean you would have to raid the Chicago locker room for snacks when you got back. 

It hadn’t mattered because Taylor paid anyway. 

Conversation flowed between the two of you like water. It was so easy to talk to Taylor, and you were slowly growing addicted to making her laugh. 

It was exactly like it had been before the two of you shared the kiss(s) until you got back into the car. 

She had been very… handsey in the ride back. And you had been handsey too, your fingers dipping past her skirt to squeeze her ass at every opportunity. 

Things hadn't slowed down in the elevator, and you had attacked her neck as she fished out the key to her apartment. 

You were growing addicted to the taste of her skin as well. 

She pressed you into the island, her lips dragging down your neck and towards your collarbone as soon as you were through the door. 

That’s when the anxiety clenched in your stomach, thinking of the way your heart pounded in your ears when you walked out of the tunnel and into a stadium, your eyes trained on the jersey numbers in front of you. 

You needed a way to slow her down. To… delay the inevitable. 

You saw your pale, terrified face in the reflection of her sliding glass door, and it felt like a lightbulb flashing in your brain. 

“Want to go swimming?” You asked suddenly, and her hands paused on your waist as her lips ghosting just over your pulse point. 

“What?”

You felt her lips curl into a frown against your skin.  

“I didn’t take my post-game ice bath,” You said, pulling away, so you could meet her eyes and gesturing towards the city lights glinting off of her infinity pool. “and your pool should be cold enough,” 

Her eyebrows knitted tightly together. “You want to go swimming in October, in New York? Wouldn’t you rather continue this?”

You shrugged, painting a charming smile across your face (hoping she wouldn’t see through it).  “When else will we be able to enjoy a view like this,”

Her lips turned even further down, and your heart beat a little bit faster. 

You didn’t want her to think you were rejecting her. You weren’t. You just…

“You don’t even have a bathing suit,” She said softly, and you could hear the hesitation in her voice. The concern. 

You needed to redirect her. To make her think that everything was ok so you didn’t lose her. 

“I don’t need one,” You wiggled your eyebrows and caught her fingers, tugging her towards the sliding glass door. “Come on,”

The view was even better from outside, the lights of the city twinkling in time with the stars and reflecting off of the pool back at you. 

“Let me at least turn on the pool lights,” She grumbled, reaching for a small remote on one of the lounge chairs. “Wouldn’t want you to miss the edge and get hurt before the end of the season,” 

You smirked, releasing her while she squinted at the clicker. 

***SECTION CONTAINING SLIGHT SMUT***

You easily slipped out of your shorts and pulled your shirt over your head, leaving you in a pair of boxers and your sports bra as you stepped towards the infinity pool. “Don’t mess with it for too long,” 

You didn’t wait for her to respond before diving into the icy water. 

It immediately prickled at your skin like a million tiny needles, pulling the air from your lungs and giving you the sensation of the world's worst brain freeze. You kept your eyes closed, forcing yourself to relax against the painful assault, letting yourself sink to the glacial blue tiles on the bottom of her pool. 

You could visualize the heat seeping out of you and into the shimmering floor, and you allowed yourself to give in to the sensation. To imagine it was the tension in your muscles, the aches that always came after a game, slowly leaching into your frigid surroundings. 

Letting the water numb your anxious mind until all that was left was a serene sense of calm. 

It felt familiar. Good in a masochistic sort of way that you couldn’t accurately put into words. 

Your brain absentmindedly reached its countdown from 45, and you pushed yourself off of the bottom. 

You let out a long breath as your head broke the surface, wiping your curls out of your eyes, and turning towards Taylor. 

She was at the edge of the pool, the remote hanging loosely in her hand, her wide eyes glinting off of the fairy lights strung along the balcony and over the pool. 

“You coming?” You asked, plastering a playful smirk across your lips. “Or are you just going to stare?”

Her mouth opened and closed, reminding you of a fish. 

You rolled your eyes, gilded towards her, stopping at her feet and looking up at her through your lashes. 

You dragged your fingers along the seam in the tiles and gently laid your hand on her foot, trying not to smirk at the shiver that ran down her spine. “It’s kinda lonely in here,” 

She blinked at you, slowly pulling her shirt over her head and dropping it behind her. 

You couldn’t help the way your eyes dragged down the newly exposed skin of her collarbone, between her breasts, and down to the waistband of her jeans where she was thumbing the button there. 

All of your attention was glued to her as she slid the material down her long legs, revealing creamy skin that made your mouth water accented by the deep blue material of her underwear. 

It stirred butterflies in your chest like the sight of no other woman had. You wanted her like you had never wanted anyone. 

Not even Mal. 

“It’s unfair how hot you are,” Taylor mumbled, settling on the edge of the pool, her legs bracketing you as she slid them into the frigid water. 

You ran your fingers up her calves and onto her thighs. “You’re not bad yourself,” 

She rolled her eyes, reaching down and smoothing your curls off of your forehead, dragging her hands down your face to cup your cheeks. Her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth. “It’s criminal how much you show your abs during games,” 

You shrugged, floating closer to her and letting your thumb toy with the elastic on her underwear. “Sweat burns when it’s in my eyes. Plus the fans like it, and so do you,”

Taylor made a low noise, drawing you closer to her, so you could feel her breath on your lips. “You’re a tease you know?” 

“You dig it,” You smirked, leaning in the final centimeter to connect your lips in a slow kiss. 

You couldn’t help the low sound that came out of the back of your throat as her tongue gently pressed against your lips, and you opened them to meet her. 

She tasted like red wine and strawberries and something that was so… Taylor. 

It was sweet and spicy and addictive. 

And it made you want her. 

You pulled away when air became an issue, trailing down her cheek to her neck, under her chin, and lavishing the skin you found down by her pulse point with your tongue. You enjoyed the way you could feel her heartbeat, how you could feel it quicken under your ministrations. 

You tried to keep your mind focused as you made your way down her neck, to her chest. You tried to focus on the softness of her skin and to memorize the way it tasted. To imprint in your mind how your tongue glided in velvet skin. 

You tried not to let your thoughts drift towards how a soccer ball felt at your feet. How you were still working on how to twist your hips to not give away which direction you were going to kick. How you needed to point your toes to perform the newest trick you were learning. 

Her fingers tangled in your hair, weaving through the wet curls close to your scalp and pulling you impossibly closer. 

You mouthed the edge of her bra, placing feather light kisses in a line between her breasts (paying special attention to the barely visible freckle you found there), ghosting down her stomach, and landing on the elastic of her underwear, letting her hand guide you where she wanted you. 

You looked up at her, meeting her hazy blue eyes. “Are you sure?” 

Her fingers tightened, pleasantly scratching your scalp. “I’ve never been more sure,” 

Your lips tilted into a devilish grin, your body sipping lower into the frigid water. “As you wish,” 

*****

Taylor panted heavily against you, each breath warming your neck as you spun in slow circles in the cold water. Her legs wrapped tightly around your waist, and your hand worked slowly between your bodies, bringing her down from her orgasm. 

You had lost track of what number she was on. Actually, you had lost track of pretty much everything after her underwear came off. 

It didn’t matter how hard you fought to stay present, you couldn’t help the way your brain slipped away. How your thoughts slid from Taylor the second you were level with her center. How the all-encompassing butterflies in your stomach fluttered away and you faded into familiar sensations and your thoughts turned to soccer. 

You knew it was weird to be working through a double-pivot formation while you were having sex. It was weird for you to be thinking about ball rotations and through passes or lineups for upcoming games while you were getting a girl off. 

Except it’s where your mind always went. 

Taylor made a low noise against your throat, and your fingers stopped gliding through her velvety folds. Your other arm tightened around her as you pulled your hand away, bringing it to your lips and lightly sucking your fingers. 

You sighed at the taste, sweet, salty, and a little tangy, happy that Taylor's pool was salt water instead of chlorine. It would have made this entire experience much less enjoyable. 

“Don’t do that,” Taylor said, her nose nudging the space under your chin. 

“Hm?” You hummed around your finger, your abs flexing as she shifted. 

She reached for your wrist, pulling your finger from your lips. “I need a minute before I can go again, and you make it hard to wait,”

You leaned in and connected your lips, your tongue probing at her bottom lip and gently slid your tongue in when she parted her lips. Her hips rolled and you flexed your abs to give her a better surface. 

“I can’t help it,” You smirked as you pulled away. “You just taste so good,”

She shivered against you, but you weren’t sure if it was from overstimulation or the cold. 

“Come on, let’s get cleaned up,” You said, walking towards the pool stairs. “And you can recover,” 

Her legs tightened around you as you carried her up the steps, and her head rested on your shoulder. “I forgot how strong you are,” 

You made a low noise, focusing on your feet so you didn’t slip and send you both back into the freezing pool. 

“Where is your bathroom?” You asked, carefully sliding her glass door open and stepping into her apartment. “I don’t want to get water everywhere,” 

“Down the hall to the left,” She said, lifting an arm to gesture down the hallway, but not moving her head from its safe space between your neck and shoulder. “It’s through my bedroom,”

You nodded, easily making your way through the hallway, across the dark carpet of her bedroom, and into the massive master bathroom. 

You set her down on the Marble counter you found there, placing a light kiss on her head before you turned away towards the giant bathtub, and began fiddling with the golden faucets. 

It took you a second to make the water a good temperature and to flick the drain plug before you returned to her, slotting between her legs again.

“Do you want a drink or something?” You asked as she pulled you back in for another kiss.

“I’d love one,” She breathed against your lips. “I have wine in the fridge,” 

“I’ll go get it,” You hummed. “You just stay here and look pretty,” 

Her mouth curved against yours, and you finally pulled away, kissing her nose before you padded off toward the kitchen (ignoring how she tapped your ass as you left). 

It felt like a weight left your chest as you exited her bedroom, and you took a long breath as you made it to the kitchen. 

There had to be something fucking wrong with you. 

You had a naked woman two rooms over. A woman who had gone skinny dipping with you. A woman who was recovering so you could give her another orgasm. And here you were, doing your best to stall. Trying to quell the growing dread in your stomach. 

You shook your head, going to the wine fridge and pulling out the half-full bottle of red you were sure was the one Taylor wanted. You also grabbed two water bottles and found a wine glass in the cabinet. 

Just because you had hooked up with her… were actively hooking up with her… didn’t mean that she wanted your relationship to change. 

You took another deep breath. 

Being weird about any of this would just make it worse. 

You could be normal. 

You could save your friendship. 

You turned from the kitchen, slowly making your way back to the bathroom. 

Taylor smiled softly at you when you returned, holding out her arms to you. “I can’t believe you never took your clothing off,” 

You painted an easy smirk on your lips, setting the bottles and glass down on the counter before, letting her wrap her arms around you. “You were distracted,” 

She hummed. “You’re… very good with your hands,” 

You wiggled your eyebrows, leaning in to peck her lips before you turned away. You turned off the water in the tub and held your hand out for her. “Get in first. I’ll pour you some wine and join you. This way I can show you the other things my hands are good at,” 

She rolled her eyes, but let you guide her into the tub, sighing as she immersed herself in the warm water. 

You waited for her to get settled before you poured her half a glass of wine and passed it her way, and you grabbed a bottle of water for yourself, cracking it open and taking a very long sip. 

Taylor made another low sound, and you felt her eyes on you, following every movement. You flexed your arm and abs for effect as you finished off the bottle. 

You smirked at her as you pulled it away from your Lips, setting it on the counter. “Lean forward so I can get into the tub,” 

She eyed you, shaking her head. “This is a clothing-free zone,” 

“Is it?” You asked, cocking your head to the side. 

She hummed. “It is. I can’t believe you still have boxers and a bra on,” 

“You were distracted,” You shrugged smirking devilishly at her, placing the bottle on the counter and easily slipping out of your soaked boxers. “Something about the water being too cold,” 

“Try freezing,” She huffed, her eyes tracing the newly exposed skin of your thighs (your muscles standing out because of the cold), up towards your hips, taking a large sip of her wine. “But you warmed me up,”

“I’m good at that,” You murmured, pulling your bra over your head and stepping towards the tub. “Please lean forward so I can get in,” you 

“You are,” She breathed out as you slid into the tub behind her. She shifted so your thighs could encapsulate hers. 

Your arms wrapped gently around her middle, your palm laying flat on her stomach and your chin resting on her shoulder. 

You would have laughed at Taylor being the little spoon (because you were the shorter of the two of you), but you liked holding her. You also liked that the only places she could reach were your arms and legs. 

Safe territory. 

Territory that put you in control of the pace. 

“It’s unfair how you look so good, and how good you are,” She let out another breath, wiggling so her back was pressed more tightly against your front. 

You made a low sound, rubbing your hand up and down her stomach, your fingers just barely brushing her pelvic bone on each pass. 

You didn’t like how… pronounced they were. It was something you knew you would have to address at some point but now did not feel like the right time. 

“You’re pretty gorgeous yourself,” You murmured into her neck, kissing behind her ear, and letting your lips travel lower to the special spot you had found near her pulse point. 

Her head tilted to give you more room, and her hands fell to where your knees were bracketing hers just below the steamy water. She pressed very gently into a dark bruise forming on your calf from a mistimed tackle. “You have no idea what you do to me. How much those stupid videos your teammates are always taking make me want you,”

You smirked against the soft skin of her neck, letting your tongue linger for a long second as your left hand dipped even lower on her stomach. 

You knew the videos she was talking about. The ones that always seemed to catch you with your shirt off because you preferred to train that way. You hated when the damp material of your training top clung to you, so you normally forgoed one unless the media team was filming some behind-the-scenes stuff. 

“I’ll have to send you my own videos now that I know you like them,” You said, dragging your lips up her neck towards her ear, and very gently letting your teeth close around the soft tissue. 

She released a shakier breath as your fingers found her clit, and began rubbing very gentle circles. “I’d like that,” 

“You got it,” You hummed, pressing a little harder, and dipping down towards the heat that had nothing to do with the bath water while your other hand sliding up to her chest to toy with her nipple 

You smirked when her wine glass shook dangerously, the red liquid tipping out of the top as your fingers curled, pressing into the very special patch inside her. 

It reminded you of when a ball tipped off of a keeper's fingers. How it bobbled before landing back on the grass. How you always held your breath to see if it would land on the right side of the goal line. 

It was the perk of playing in Chicago, you supposed, that you had Alyssa as your starting keeper. You always felt like the ball was safe in her hands. You felt comfortable taking chances because you knew she was capable of cleaning up any messes you made. That her and JJ would protect the goal well enough that you could push forward. 

Taylor tensed around your fingers, and the glass finally fell, landing thankfully in the water instead of crashing to the ground outside of the tub. 

You kept your pace as she rode out her orgasm, your eyes focused on the red dissipating into the water until she finally relaxed against you. You finally pulled away when you were sure she was finished, kissing behind her ear and listening to her labored breathing as she came down. 

Her head turned, and you laid a kiss on her cheek. “You made me spill my wine,” 

“Oops,” You chuckled, not at all sorry, tweaking her nipple again before letting go and resting your hands on her stomach. 

She giggled in response, swatting your knee and then soothing her hand over a large bruise forming just below it. “Behave,” 

“I’m not known for behaving,” You said as she reached over and grabbed the fallen glass before either of you could accidentally break it. “It’s why the equipment staff are always following me around with extra shirts,” 

“Try for me?” She asked, her lips curving into a smile you hadn’t seen her send to anyone else, making you melt. “I don’t think I have any more orgasms into me tonight,” 

“Whatever you want,” You agreed, laying another kiss on her cheek. 

She hummed, leaning back into you, and you tightened your arms around her. 

You wondered if you should suggest that the two of you clean up and get ready for bed, but you didn’t even know if she wanted you to stay. You didn’t know if you would be welcome now that the two of you were done. 

You had never not snuck out after. You didn’t know how any of this worked, and you were too afraid to ask. 

“Just give me a few minutes and I’ll return the favor,” She mumbled. “You deserve it,” 

You shook your head, tucking your nose in the space between her neck and shoulder. “I’m good. I got enough watching you,” 

She sucked in a breath.“Are you sure?” 

You hummed, kissing the junction where her neck and shoulder met. “I’m good. I’m with you,” 

It was the truth. 

It was easier this way. You knew how to deal with things this way. 

She made a low noise of agreement. “Let’s just sit for a bit then, and then we can get cleaned up and go to bed,”

“Whatever you want,” You placed another kiss on her velvety skin, content to follow her lead. 

Maybe you would get to keep your friendship after all. 

***END OF SLIGHT SMUT***

OoOoOoO

Mornings were always your favorite. 

You loved the way soft light fluttered through curtains, casting a candle-like glow on the room around you. The way the oranges and yellows melted into brilliant white, chasing away the darkness like lanterns in a cavern.

It reminded you of when you were little, cuddled up to Alex after a nightmare. She would run a hand through your hair, and tell you stories into the early hours of the morning, insisting that tales of Knights and Princesses could chase away the monsters that haunted your dreams. 

“Just close your eyes monkey. I’ll protect you. Always,”

She made you feel safe. The rise and fall of her chest allowing your restless mind to relax.

It was no different here in Taylor’s bed, wrapped in perfect white sheets, her arm draped around your middle, her head resting on your shoulders, and her soft breaths tickling your neck at each exhale. Your bodies were pressed together, and you could feel her bare legs tangled with yours. 

She made you feel safe and warm and like you mattered and that fucking terrified you. 

It kept you up long after Taylor’s breathing turned deep and heavy, staring at the ceiling like it would give you the answers you were searching for. 

You kept your arm wrapped around her, your fingers playing with the very tips of her hair and drawing shapes on the skin of her bare back. 

You had to fight the urge to flee as soon as you were sure she was asleep. The urge that you had always indulged with your hookups. The one that meant you would never have to face the consequences of a hookup. 

But Taylor wasn’t a hookup. 

Even if she didn’t want a relationship, if you got to hold her like this, then you would accept whatever little part of herself she was willing to give you. And that terrified you too. 

You promised yourself you wouldn’t do this again after-. 

You let out a long breath from your nose. 

It wasn’t fair for you to think about that… relationship. If you could call it that. 

You should go before Taylor woke up. Escape before you ruined this like you ruined that. 

“I can feel you thinking,” Taylor mumbled against your neck, her lips tickling your skin. 

“Sorry,” You murmured, running your fingers very gently over the skin of her back and laying a kiss on the top of her head. “Go back to sleep, it’s still early,” 

She shifted against your shoulder, tired blue eyes peering up at you. “What time is it?”

You squinted at the clock on her bedside table. “Just after 6,” 

She groaned. “Why are you awake?”

“Habit,” You said, looking back up at her ceiling, ending the debate in your brain. “I have to go to team recovery?”

It wasn’t a total lie. You did have to pick up your kit bag from the hotel, and you liked to do morning jogs after games to work out your muscles, but really, you needed… separation to quell the monster threatening to rip your lungs into pieces. 

You didn’t know how to not ruin your friendship. How to navigate your feelings without losing her. 

You needed to go for a run, to feel the ache in your chest and your legs to help you figure out what the fuck you were supposed to do. But at the same time, you didn’t want to leave. 

You refused to let her become another hookup. You would just run for a few hours and then return. 

You weren’t running like you did with the others. You were just… catching your breath. You were just getting your head straight. 

“The cold plunge you took last night wasn’t recovery enough?” Taylor asked, smirking up at you. 

You let your lips pull to match her expression. “Unfortunately no, but I can bring lunch back here when I’m done?” 

“I think that sounds like a fair trade,” She said, leaning up on her arm and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. 

“Does it?” You wiggled your eyebrows at her. 

“Hmm,” She made a low sound, connecting your lips again. “Do you have time for a shower before you go?”

You chased her lips with a teasing smirk as she pulled away. “I think that can be arranged,” 

OoOoOoO

“Is there a reason you’re running a one-woman marathon, or are you just trying to make it impossible for Al to beat you this week?” Kelley’s voice cut through the running commentary in your head, and you blinked up at her from where she stood on the steps next to a big Chelsea market sign. 

You glanced down at the smartwatch on your wrist. You didn’t remember putting it on. It had become such a normal part of your morning routine that you didn’t think about putting it on anymore. You had honestly forgotten that Alex was getting alerts about your run until Kelley mentioned it. 

You tried not to think about the connection it had to your sister. You only paid attention to the stupid app when it alerted you that you were losing anyway. 

“Is that why you decided to join me?”

“I know you like the Chelsea market and running the high line,” Kelley said too casually, falling into step beside you. “I joined you because you and your sister only run long distances when something is bothering you, and I thought you would prefer me over Alex,”

You glanced at her, but she adamantly kept her eyes ahead of her. It felt purposeful like she didn’t want you to know she was watching you. 

You were very glad that Alex hadn’t decided to come herself, or that she had been talked out of it. 

“And you thought I’d want to talk,” 

Kelley shook her head. “No, but I do have a way with Morgan women, and I figured I’d support you,”

“Hmm,” You hummed, unable to stop the slight smile that cracked across your face. 

She would never let it go that she was basically your celebrity crush before you met her. You had been obsessed with college soccer when you were young, and Stanford had always been your favorite team. 

While things had changed significantly since her and your sister started dating (and you actually met her), she thought it was hilarious that both of you had been in love with her at some point. She also thought it was hilarious that she was you quote-unquote gay awakening, but you really didn’t like to think about that. 

You let out a long breath as the two of you jogged another few blocks, enjoying the sounds of the city around you. It was strange, but you already associated the city with Taylor. 

“There’s a girl that I really like,” You mumbled, as you both passed a dumpling stand. “I stayed the night,”

Kelley made a low sound next to you. They all knew you met up with someone, but no one knew exactly how that night turned out. And you staying was kind of unheard of. “And you two slept together?” 

You opened your mouth to answer but closed it quickly. Did it count if you never took your clothes off? Did it count if you didn’t let her touch you?

“You got her off like with the others?” Kelley amended, after a quick glance your way. 

“Yes. Then I stayed, and we cuddled,” You admitted, your voice going very soft. “All night,” 

You felt like you were in a weird dichotomy. Sex with Taylor was supposed to feel different because you felt so deeply for her. 

You thought it would because the before was so romantic. You thought it would because you wanted her like you had never wanted anyone before. 

But the act itself had felt… almost routine. It was like you were on autopilot. It was the same as it had been with every other girl you had been with. 

Her body responded the same way theirs had, and it had been so easy to get lost in your own head. 

It was only when she pulled you to her chest afterward. When she kissed your cheek and let you wash her hair before you got out of the bath. When she held you for the entire night, you ran your fingers down the line of her spine. 

It proved that she wasn’t like the others, and you let yourself enjoy the intimacy. It was why you stayed. 

She was still your friend. 

You spat the word in your mind. 

You didn’t want to end up in the no man’s land between friend and more than friend. Not again, the first time nearly ended in disaster, saved only by your mutual love of soccer and the goal of winning the World Cup.

You and Taylor didn’t share the same… uniting factor. 

And with the feelings bubbling in your chest, you knew you would never have the strength to walk away if that's what she asked of you. 

“So this is more than a one-nighter?” Kelley asked though she was already sure of the answer. 

“I think?” You nodded. “I’ve never…I don’t know how to do this, so I called Emily for advice,” 

Kelley’s nose scrunched. She knew how close you and the blonde defender were, especially since the two of you had been going to youth camps together since she could remember. She also knew that Emily knew more about the mysterious Taylor than she did. 

“This is the hypothetical friend that you didn’t think you were dating who had never had a burrito?” 

You hummed again, smiling at one of the dollar slice guys as you passed his little alcove. “I don't want to fuck this up, and I thought Emily would help. She didn’t,” 

“What did Emily say?” Kelley pushed. 

Your shoulders lifted and fell. “To just go with it,” 

Kelley couldn’t help her frown. That had to be the worst advice known to man, and Sonnett should have known. “So you slept with her, even when you weren’t sure you wanted to?”

“I wanted to,” You said, your voice going very soft. “I just…-“

You didn’t know how to explain that you got so caught up in your head that the experience felt like every other. That it was robotic and routine and expected. 

“It felt… generic…when I did it to her. It’s not supposed to be routine when I do it to her.” 

Kelley caught your arm and pulled you to a stop. 

“Sex isn’t something you do to someone. It’s something you do with them,” She said seriously, brown eyes boring into yours like she was trying to read your mind. “It’s a mutual activity,” 

It was a terrifying prospect that you didn’t know that, and it sent red flags twirling in Kelley’s head, especially when you shrugged it off. 

“I like her, so it was supposed to feel different,” You muttered, pulling your arm out of her grasp when the crosswalk sign came on. 

It was supposed to be emotional and you were supposed to feel connected. You should have been so hyper-focused on every movement, every twitch of her body that the world faded into nonexistence. 

You shouldn’t have had to stop yourself from running through lineups in your head halfway through. You shouldn’t have felt like the only important part of the experience was the finish. 

What the fuck was wrong with you?

She sighed but followed after you as you jogged across the street. “And it didn’t?”

“Before did,” You said, keeping your eyes focused on the sidewalk in front of you. “And so did after,” 

“But the middle?” She asked. 

You shook your head, unwilling to put into words that you were too defective for it to be anything more than a quick fuck. 

Taylor deserved better, especially since the way she held you made you feel so… safe. The way she cuddled into you made you feel loved. More loved than your tongue could ever make her feel. 

“And that freaked you out?” Kelley asked, as you finally slowed your jog to a walk. 

You scratched the back of your neck, noting the annoying way your hair rubbed against the skin there. You really needed to get it cut. 

It wasn’t the connection that freaked you out, it was the prospect that you could now lose it. That you were fumbling around with no clue how to move forward, liable to fuck up something that had just started. 

You weren’t even sure if it was something. You had no clue where you stood. 

She looked at you like you weren’t a broken toy, and one misstep could prove her wrong and send her running. 

“I don’t know how to do this. It’s why I avoided sleeping with her in the first place. I was doing the friend thing well, and now… I have no idea what’s next,” You murmured, barely above a whisper. So quietly that you weren’t sure if Kelley heard you until her hand found your arm and gently pulled you to a stop yet again. 

“I think we can agree that Emily’s advice wasn’t great,” She started, making eye contact with you, and squeezing your arm gently. “I think what you should focus on are the things you do like to do with this girl. Do those take slow steps, and communicate with her. It’s a relationship, not a race,” 

“Slow steps,” You repeated, turning the words over in your mind. 

“Yes, and communication about what you like or don’t like and what you want or don’t want. Figuring out if you’re friends or more than friends would be a good place to start too,” The defender reiterated with a nod, emphasizing the back half of her sentence. 

She knew how much of a people pleaser you were, and how often you set aside your own feelings to make other people happy. If it happened with simple things like you refusing to stop Emily, Rose, and Lindsey’s teasing when it became too much because they were “still having fun” then she feared what other things you were willing to let go. 

You swallowed hard and matched her nod. 

You could do slow steps. 

You ran a hand through your sweaty hair, glancing around you. At least your slight crisis had landed you in Mulberry Street. 

“Do you wanna grab a snack before I head back? I told her I would bring her something for lunch after team recovery,” You asked, gesturing towards one of the many Italian restaurants surrounding you. 

Kelley raised an eyebrow at you. “You told this girl that you had training the day after a game and she believed you?” 

“I don’t think she knows that much about footy,” You shrugged. “She’s more of an American football fan,” 

Even if Taylor had played when she was young, you knew her knowledge was pretty limited. 

Kelley cracked a smile at you and nodded toward the restaurant you had pointed out. “As long as she’s not an Eagles fan, we’ll be fine then,”

You made a low sound of agreement knowing Kelley wasn’t as serious about Football teams as she was about premier league teams. Her main concern was that you were treated well after all anyway. 

OoOoOoO

You had calmed down significantly by the time you made it back to Taylor’s apartment, but Kelley had always had that effect on you. 

She had been the one who helped you breathe before your first cap (along with Alex, though you hated talking about it). She was the one who talked you down after you tore your Achilles during the World Cup. 

She always knew exactly what to say, and this was no different. She made you laugh and slipped in little pieces of advice without forcing you to ruminate on the situation. She made you believe that you could talk to Taylor and it would work. 

And as you sat across from Taylor while she snacked on the penne à la vodka you had picked up for her, your confidence didn’t waver. 

Kelley swore it would only take 5 seconds of bravery. 

“Are we dating now?”

Taylor paused, chewing her bite and swallowing as a perfect eyebrow arched in amusement. “Do you want us to be dating?”

You frowned, you hadn’t been expecting a question back. You thought it would be just a simple yes or no. 

“I think so,” You said slowly, meeting her eyes.  “I don’t know how to date,”

Her head cocked to the side. “You’ve never dated?” 

“Not really,” You shook your head, scratching the newly shortened hair at the back of your neck. “Besides a weird situationship, it’s all been one-nighters, so I’m not sure how any of this is supposed to work,” 

Taylor put her fork down, and she leaned a little closer to you, frowning. “Hold on, your realest relationship was a situationship?” 

“Yes,” You said sheepishly, your fingers digging more harshly into the back of your neck as you felt heat crawl up your cheeks all the way to your ears. 

“Why?”

It was asked with a giggle, but it didn’t rub you the wrong way. Taylor wasn’t making fun of you. 

You cleared your throat, eyes flickering away from her and back. “She was straight, and one of my friends,” 

It was a hard thing to admit, that you had fallen into a friends-with-benefits relationship with one of your closest friends, and that you hadn’t been able to keep your feelings locked away in a little box. You let things go too far. You let yourself believe that your favorite striker would leave her perfect boyfriend. 

You let yourself believe that she would return your feelings and pick you. 

She didn’t, and you had sworn off relationships after that. 

Why would you get involved when everyone always left?

“We were under a lot of pressure in the U20s and it was a good way to blow off steam,” You continued, your voice going soft. “Things just… went too far and ended messily,”

“Situationships usually do,” Taylor said gently, reaching across the island to place a careful hand on your arm. 

“We stayed friends though. We had to, because of the team” You murmured. “Eventually I just got over it,” 

Taylor hummed, her thumb lingering on a thick scar on the inside of your elbow. 

It seemed to her that a lot of your stories ended with you just getting over things. She wondered if you ever actually processed them, or if you just enjoyed pretending it never happened. 

“And now we link up really well,” You finished with a shrug, an easy smile returning to your features. “Anyway, back to the question. Are we dating?” 

Taylor felt her lips tilt up in return. “Again I’ll ask, do you want to be?”

“We’re going in circles,” You sighed, dragging your hand from the back of your neck up through your newly trimmed curls, thankful Kelley had stopped with you to get it cut on the way back to Taylor’s apartment. 

Taylor rolled her eyes. “Just answer the question,” 

Your nose scrunched. Had you not just explained that you didn’t know how to date? You didn’t even know what it entailed. 

How would things change? What would she expect? 

But she was looking at you with so much softness, so much… understanding. It made something tug in your chest. 

If you were going to try dating anyone, you wanted it to be her. 

“Yes,” You breathed out, fighting to keep your voice even and steady. 

“Then we’re dating,” Taylor shrugged, picking up her fork. “Easy,” 

“Easy,” You mimicked, trying to ignore Emily’s voice ringing in your head. 

It didn’t have to be complicated. 

[gfhunklescalendar]

Reblogs greatly encouraged!

What's this? A little calendar teaser and update for everyone??

You betcha! We're getting close, so here are the facts so far:

Calendars will likely be up for pre-order in June/July.

Since they are for 24 months, they will likely be $20-$30 USD.

The charity we'll be donating to this year is A New Way of Life Reentry Project, who provide housing, case management, pro bono legal services, advocacy, and leadership development for people rebuilding their lives after incarceration.

I'm hoping to do a run of 500 calendars!

I'm basing that number off the previous poll I did about the mullet!Stan calendar, so I'm hoping there will actually be that many folks purchasing it. But that's where you come in. YES YOU! In order to make this calendar a success (and to ensure I don't end up with 300 of them taking up space in my house), I need all of you to be sure you reblog this post, share links on other social media sites, and generally do whatever you can to spread the word.

I have faith we can make this happen!

Preview pics by: @dragon-tidbits @gruvu @devisopod

[luveline]

𝐚 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

You're not sure you're ready to come back. Hotch has total faith in you. Or, your transition back into the team after your abduction doesn't go as smoothly as you'd hoped. 

6k words, fem!reader, bau!reader, some mutual pining, reader is suffering from effects of ptsd, allusions to kidnapping + torture, hurt/comfort, hotch has a soft spot for you (as do most of the team)

༺༻

Reid was abducted, once. 

You can remember the anxiety of it like a hand around your throat. It feels cruel to say that his abduction and torture had effected you more than if it had been a stranger, but you meet so many people, so many victims of cruelty, that the fear starts to blunt. 

Though it doesn't blur. You find it impossible to forget the people that you've failed, and failing a team mate? That had been excruciating. 

Only when you'd been taken yourself had you realised it wasn't a failure at all. 

You wish the others would understand that. 

"Are you feeling okay?" Prentiss asks as you sit down. 

You suppose you had gone down a bit hard. "Mm?" you hum in question, pulling a copy of the initial case file toward you. 

"You looked a little wobbly." 

"Long night?" Morgan asks.

There's both sympathy and mirth in his voice. If you did have a long night, it wouldn’t be from anything fun. He knows that. Everybody knows that. That's why they're treating you like glass. 

"I actually slept really well," you say softly, returning his smile with one that's entirely genuine. 

"That's good, considering," he says, bracing his forearm against the conference table. 

He's been your number one supporter since you came back. Probably because he feels very guilty about what happened. You'd been paired up at the time. 

"Actually, it's common for people who've been abducted to sleep incredibly well for a long period afterward. It's similar to the leisure sickness phenomena- Your body would have been in defence mode, and-" 

"Reid," Hotch says firmly, stepping into the room with his usual lowbrow. 

"Sorry." 

And the spiel begins. JJ lays out the details of the case she's triaged and the team gives their first input. The barest beginnings of a working theory. You try to contribute and find your tongue a leaden weight in your mouth. Ever since you got back, you've been useless. 

You can't do your job, but thank god you can sleep at night, right? 

You miss the start of his sentence, your focus latching onto Hotch's conclusive, "Wheels up in thirty." 

Your team are standing in seconds, trained in the art of quick departures. You used to be good at this part. You're a good agent, even when you're a mediocre profiler. 

"L/N?" 

You blink. "Mm?" you hum, meeting your unit chief's concerned look with a perfected blasé. 

You've come to a stand in front of the table, and everyone else has left. It's you and Hotch alone. 

"If you're not ready to go back into the field, that's okay." 

If you were Reid, or Prentiss, or especially Morgan, you'd get defensive here, and you would lie well, but you’re a bad liar and Hotch is a great detector for them, so you tell the truth. 

"I'm not sure that I'm ready, but I'd like to go. I won't be a burden. I can work effectively." 

"I know you won't be a burden." 

You tilt your head to one side and feel your hair shift over your thick sweater. You haven't felt like showing much skin, lately. Everybody has noticed, because they notice everything, and nobody has made you feel bad about it. In fact, your fellow agents have made numerous comments about the chilly weather. It's July. 

Hotch's eyes fall to your long sleeves for a split-second. 

"Do you think he's alive?" you ask.

"Sorry?" 

You nod your head toward the board, where the portrait of your kidnapping victim hangs in full colour. "Do you think he's alive?" 

"Unless there's evidence that would suggest otherwise, we shouldn't assume. You know that." 

"I know that that's the answer you're used to giving." 

His voice goes too soft, like he's talking to somebody in grief. "I think he is." 

You honestly can't stand it when he talks to you like this. You tilt your head a little further and see him the way he'd been that morning, his tenderness, his fear. He'd opened the door and suddenly you'd known you were safe. 

He hasn't looked at you right since he found you.

"I have all my best clothes in my go-bag," you offer. 

"Well, go get it. This might be a long one." 

—

The jet is a really nice jet. 

It's hard not to feel impressed by it. It's a vehicle that can take you from one crime scene to another, and it's a necessary expense, but it feels lavish. The clean smells, the comfort, the kitchenette. It has a full-sized toilet. 

"Missed this?" Morgan asks knowingly. 

You wheedle your way into one of the four seats surrounding the main table and smile when he drops down next to you. "Missed using you as my personal pillow, maybe," you tease. 

"Table hogs," Prentiss complains, sitting on the armrest of the couch in defeat. 

You laugh under your breath. Morgan pulls out his laptop and turns the screen so everyone can see Garcia, and as soon as the jet's taken off the second round of speculation begins. 

You regret sitting where you had quickly. You can feel Hotch's analysing gaze where he sits opposite. He doesn't believe you're ready to come back. 

You lick your lips.

"Why would she cut him open just to kill him straight afterward?" JJ asks. "I mean, if she didn't assault him?" 

"It's unlikely that she's a sadist," Reid infers. 

"Disembowelment is a pretty painful, horrific way to die. Maybe she realised that and killed him," Morgan suggests. 

"Remorse?" you murmur. "Could mean she's… younger. And revenge killers don't always see it through." 

"Why take another one if you can't commit to the first?" Prentiss asks. 

"Maybe that's why she took him. She wants time to work herself up," you mutter. 

You hide your hands under the table. It's hard to ignore the similarities with the current case and the one you're investigating. The unsub who'd taken you had been narcissistic and self-righteous, punishing the BAU for stopping her second murder — you'd predicted her next victim and moved him before she could take him. 

So her victimology had changed, and she'd stolen you. 

She couldn't commit to her first session of torture: hesitant cuts, loose ligatures. By your turn she'd improved, but her tentative resolve had remained and she'd run after three days. It's the worst thing she could've done, buying herself less than a week on the run and leaving you with no outside communication. 

You'd almost died of dehydration. 

"She's choosing from a specific group," Reid says. He holds up a photograph of the first victim. He'd been murdered in his bedroom, and the walls are plastered in playboy. Kill all men has been written across his forehead in red lipstick. "Our abductee, he was wearing a t-shirt featuring popular bikini model Miss Olympia. In a state of undress." 

“Is that specific?” Prentiss asks wryly.

"She's angry," you say. 

Hotch leans forward and clicks Garcia's call button. "Garcia?"  

"Sir." 

"Are there any prolific feminist groups in the area? Radicals?" 

They fall into conversation, a pulling and pushing of information. Something about online forums, flame wars, political arguments. 

It's not the strongest theory in the world but they can make it work. You should be making it work with them. 

The flight is an early morning longhaul to Idaho and you work the case the entire time you're in the air. There's an abundance of coffee that you reject because you're worried it'll rehash your on-again off-again migraine, and while your teammates are offering theories, intertwining details with bright eyes and bushy tails, you struggle to keep up. 

There's a lull before landing where everybody parts ways. JJ moves to sit with Prentiss where they talk in hushed but conspicuous giggles. You hear the words Will and dishes and back rub and decide to stop listening for your own sake. 

Morgan laughs, having heard what you just heard and liking it a far deal more, and stands. "Coffee?" he asks as you yawn.

You shake your head sluggishly. "Be quick, we'll be landing soon." 

"I know, sweetheart, I heard the same announcement as you." He takes your empty water glass with a supportive squint. "Let me get you another." 

"Thanks." 

You'd regretted your seat as soon as you'd taken it, the feeling of being boxed in having grown and grown over the course of the journey, and Morgan’s brief departure gives you some much needed space.

You squeeze your hands together until your knuckles ache. 

"L/N?" 

Hotch is looking at you. You know exactly what he sees. Someone who isn't ready to be back in the field. Someone who isn't being effective, as you'd promised. 

"You okay?" 

"Just warm,” you lie, pushing your hair away from your neck. 

You're a bad liar. He gets up to turn on the air conditioning anyway. 

You slouch down in your chair and pretend to nap for the rest of the flight. 

—

Crime scenes where people died smell bad. It's a fact. They smell like pee, the sharp stick of ammonia, and the metallic aftertaste of blood. You're trying hard not to fall into your own memories of the two. 

You need to move past what happened. The only way you're gonna be able to do that is to re-desensitise yourself, and that includes volunteering for the nasty stuff when Hotch tries to relegate you to questioning witnesses. 

"I'm not good at interviews," you'd said plainly. 

And he'd taken it for what it was and let you do what you usually do: you look for clues. If anybody could hear you think that you'd be ridiculed, but they can't. You enjoy yourself. 

Let's Scooby Doo this bitch. 

"Careful," Hotch says, holding a hand near your hip. You'd almost stepped into the largest puddle of blood still wet in the very middle. 

Right. He'd let you take the gross job but now you're being babysat. 

What did she do in this room? Why did she kill him here but abduct the second man? 

"If it weren't for the photos, I'd never link this victimology," you confess. 

The photos. The unsub had sent pictures of her abductee with Kill all men written across his forehead. In lipstick. 

What changed the MO? Why kill the first at home and steal the second? 

The political theory feels more plausible. 

"I think you would've." Hotch casts his gaze over the desk. "This is a messy one. Opportunistic but personal. Our unsub, she…" His voice turns to a mutter, as it tends to do when he hits a roadblock. "She wants attention, because the first murder didn't do what she'd hoped." 

"What is she hoping for?" 

He picks up a piece of coloured paper and holds it up to his chest so you can see it. It's a flyer for speed dating at a Café Martini, every Friday at 6PM. 

"Where was Paul last seen?" you ask. 

"Good question." 

He takes his phone from his pocket to call Garcia. 

You listen to their conversation for a while, his serious questions and her flirtatious answers. 

You look back to the floor and push the white toe of your tennis shoe into the rug until the rubber's red with blood. It's not good practice. You're now a walking biohazard. Why is the blood still wet? It should've sunk into the carpeting hours ago. How much did he bleed? 

When you'd been abducted your unsub hadn't been keen on torture. She'd made small, quick cuts over your upper arms, more to punish you than because she truly enjoyed it, and she'd hit something important by accident. 

The blood had pooled in the crook of your elbow. It had stayed wet for a long time. You remember trying to clean yourself up with your t-shirt, too drugged up to move right, and eventually the drugs had worn off and it had really, really hurt. 

This boy had been cut from hip to hip. 

"Maybe you should go sit in the car," Hotch says. 

"Why?" 

"I've been talking to you."

"I've been listening." 

"Don't lie." Hotch takes a step forward, black shoe close to your white. "Look at me." 

You look up, eyebrows raised as you try to blink yourself awake. His eye contact is something you've always struggled to hold, knowing he's learning a lot more from your expression than you are from his. You press the backs of your hands to your cheeks and find them hot with embarrassment. 

"I'm really sorry," you apologise, eyes aching. Not burning, just aching. Like a bruise. 

Hotch nods, expression impassive. "It's okay. Go sit in the car." 

He outranks you as an SSA, he's your boss for every intent and purpose. He's your friend, sometimes, and you've yet to see him make a bad call. You listen and go back out and down to the car. You've already broken your promise not to be a burden. 

Best to play along and play well. You don't want a desk job. You don't want to lose the team. 

In the car, things feel better. It smells like new and you take some time to breathe it in with slow, deep breaths. The pine tree air freshener hanging from the rear view mirror is still soft and wet to touch. You rub it between two fingers, pensive, until Hotch appears from the house. He looks severe and solemn as usual when he opens the car door and climbs inside. 

"Tell me if you can't do this," he says. He never beats around the bush. You wish that he would. 

"I don't know." 

"I need a yes or no." 

You're screaming at yourself to say yes. Hotch stalls with his hand poised at the ignition, waiting for your answer before he turns the key. If you say no, I can't do this, he'll take you back to the room. You know he won't hold it against you because he'd tried to persuade you to take more time off, as much as you needed. 

Being alone reminds you too much of your abduction. You hate how you can't stop thinking about it. At work, at home. What if this is it? This is the only thing you're going to think of for the rest of your life. 

Unless you can get some new memories. 

"I can do this." 

"I know that. Do you know that?" he asks firmly. 

You lean your head back against the headrest and turn your face to look at him fully. You hadn't been expecting any praise, any softness. You're fucking up on a time-sensitive case — he should be reprimanding you. He should send you packing to Virginia. 

"I'm sorry," you say softly.

"For what?" he asks. His eyebrows pinch up at the starts, his lips curve into a frown. 

It's startling to see so much emotion on his face on the job; Aaron Hotchner has a switch. He comes to work and he turns off everything that doesn't help the case. Only on rare occasions do you get to see him as a friend — his laughter over group dinner dates, his gentle smiles when he'd kept you company in the hospital. 

"For being- For being disorganised," you explain choppily. It is not the right word. 

He turns the key and reverses out of the parking space before speaking. "You are an asset to this team. If you can't be an asset right now, that's fine. If you need to go home-" 

"I don't need to go home." 

He doesn't seem offended at being interrupted. "Your wellbeing is more important than your effectiveness as a profiler. But you can't get in the way." 

"I won't." 

"I know you won't. Just…" He pulls his phone out of his pocket, dials a number. He's not looking at you when he finishes, "Calm down. Stay present. We need you with us." 

You turn your face to the window so he can't see your smile. He hasn't been this nice to you since your birthday. 

—

The thirty six hour mark comes to pass quickly and you find yourselves no closer to a positive ID on the unsub or their location. Any leads you follow dry up, witnesses won't cooperate, nobody has slept properly (besides yourself), and the boy's parents are hysterical. Hysterical and an irritant. 

You can hear them arguing with Hotch and the police chief in the other room. 

"You look amazing," JJ says tiredly. You can't tell if her annoyance is genuine or not. 

"Did you sleep?" you ask. 

JJ looks amazing herself despite what she might say, all perfect skin and lovely blonde hair like a moving sheet of silver-gold. You revere her pretty thin sweater with poorly hidden envy as she yawns and stretches against her straight-backed chair. 

"I slept. Bed was about as comfy as this chair," she says ruefully. 

"Ninety percent of all abduction victims are killed within the first thirty-six hours," Hotch says as he enters the room, in what Morgan would call his drill sergeant's drawl. "Every hour past that point, the percentage increases." 

Everybody in the room knows that statistic. His passive aggressive reminder serves to electrify a dozing Reid and a slumped Prentiss, both of which sit up in their chairs and pretend to be busier than they are as he makes his way into the room.

"Actually," Reid whispers to you, voice rough with fatigue, "the math isn't that simple." 

"Do you want to explain it to me?" you whisper back. 

You can't admit to really truly listening to Reid's explanation. You want him to feel heard even when you don't have the capacity for it, so you nod and hum as he explains, heads bent together as the rest of the team trade new theories. He talks surprisingly quickly for all his fatigue, and before you've realised it he's talking about something new. 

"Reid," you intrerupt gently, "can I ask you a question?" 

"Go ahead." 

You look up. Everyone seems too busy to be listening to you. You take what semblance of privacy you can and push your chair an inch closer. 

"Do you think I've been an efficient agent these last two days?" 

He juts his head forward. "You've been distracted. Tired, unfocused. But your insight on the unsub's age and what you said about her propensity for regret are both incomparable parts of the profile." 

"But easily something someone else would've suggested?" 

"Not necessarily." He smiles at you, a mirthful quirk. "Psychologically, the effect that working a case so close to your own trauma," — you bite your tongue in surprise — "would render the average person prone with memory. It also gives you a thought pattern that not everybody else would have." 

"You have it." 

"Let's focus on the behaviour pattern," Hotch says. 

You'd agreed to run point today. Or rather, Hotch had said, "L/N, you'll run point," and you hadn't argued. After all, yesterday had been telling on how much you can handle. Crime scenes are a no go. 

Not that there's any crime scene left to analyse. Your team have spent hours and hours trying to draw blood from stone. The case hadn't felt so impossible on the jet, and now… 

"I'm benched," you murmur. 

"You're not benched," Morgan says, which is irksome because you'd been talking to Reid. "If you were benched you'd be back in Virginia typing up my paperwork." 

"She doesn't care about the crime scene, she doesn't care about the crime itself. There's nothing in it for her besides making a statement. So why take a hostage with no ransom, no instruction? Why tell us you have a hostage and cut communication?" 

You rub your eyes at Reid's questions and find you have no theories to offer. You have nothing. 

"Work the problem," you mumble to yourself. "Work the problem. Where would she go?" 

She cut that boy from hip to hip. She killed him quickly after rather than leave him in pain, but she disembowelled him for the statement it would make. For the… mess? 

You feel off-kilter enough to stand. You weave through people and hesitate in front of Hotch where he's reading over the timeline, waiting for his face to turn before you talk. 

"Hotch," you say tentatively, "what if she's like… an arsonist? Disemboweling is messy. The blood was still wet when we got here two days later, and it ruined the floor." 

He thinks for a second. "Her escalation from a private mess to a public one would make sense."

"We thought the pathway from murder to taking a hostage was a step backwards, but what if it's not about the murder at all, it's about the blood?"

"It's common for arsonists to suffer paternal violence," Reid chimes in. "Could explain the unsub targeting men with outward misogynistic attitudes." 

You turn to find the whole team looking at you, a familiar drive on each of their faces. 

They rebuild the profile. Reid fiddles with what you've said, they specify, they redirect. 

Your moment of clarity dissolves quickly but you try to help as they move on to possible locations. If the unsub wants to make a scene, light a metaphorical fire, there are plenty of places she can do it this weekend. 

Surprise surprise, Garcia confirms a 'men's rights' rally happening in around two hours, and suddenly everybody's in motion. Hotch lists instructions and the team disperses. You've done it all a hundred times before, Hotch quadruple that, Rossi octuple.

"L/N," Hotch says. 

You lift your face to his. 

He's really quite close. 

"Do you want to stay here?"

You take note of his wording. Do you want to stay here? 

His phone is already in his hand. You don't wanna waste anymore of his time. You're pretty useless during movements anyways. 

"Is that okay?" you ask. 

He doesn't say yes or no, his head doesn't give the slightest nod or shake. His eyebrows remain in their usual pushed down position. "Expand the profile. Make sure we haven't missed anything." In case the unsub isn't where you think. 

And then he leaves. 

You take your seat at a now hastily vacated table and spend an hour on the laptop with Garcia. She's mostly at the beck and call of the rest of the team, but it's nice to listen to her clicking away. 

She hangs up when the team are about to storm the rally venue and things get difficult. 

You'd passed all your psych evaluations to return. You can be an effective agent. You can work. 

You know all of this. 

It won't stick. 

You don't have a clue how long you spend staring at the table when your phone starts to ring. "Morgan?" you ask, pressing the screen to your cheek. 

"Hey, sweetheart, we got her. And Paul, safe and sound. You ready to go home?" 

"Uh," you say, trying to understand what he's said. "I'm not sure." Your migraine is coming back. 

When a person gets dehydrated your head starts to pound. It's like a heartbeat, a pulsing ache at the base of your skull and your temples. 

You know that it's all in your head, but ever since you got back you've been victim to what feels like a hundred headaches. 

Your head hurts, and you look at the floor and suddenly the floor isn't the dull blue carpeting of the police station, but the plywood of your unsub's warehouse. 

"Are you there?" 

"Morgan, I don't feel well," you say. Your mouth is full of cotton. 

"What?" 

You cast your gaze around the room. 

You leave your phone on the table, unsure if you've hung up, and make your way out of the conference room they've delegated to the BAU. You're in two minds. You know where you are, and who you are, but you feel like you're back there. The walls look like the police station walls but the floor looks like the base plywood of the warehouse. 

I'm just thirsty, you think. When you'd been kidnapped you'd become dehydrated somewhere between the fourth and fifth day, and that had come with some minor auditory and visual hallucinations. Dark spots in your peripherals shaped mildly like people, murmurings that could've been the cicadas. Right now, there's a low pitched ringing in your ears. I'm dehydrated. I'm fine. I need a drink, and I'll be okay. 

You don't have the facilities to smile at the people you pass, easing your way through officers and into an empty break room. There's nobody here. 

You round the table in the middle of the room and move to the cabinets and the sink basin. You take a mug into shaking hands and turn the faucet on. 

The water is frigid and soon your fingers are like ice. You part them in the stream, watching the water worm down your palms and wet the cuffs of your sleeves. 

"Agent L/N, is everything okay?" 

You turn with a smile, ready to assuage any fears, but it's her. 

It's obviously not her. It's not her, but she looks like her. Same face, same hair. You turn back to sink and fill your mug. 

"Agent L/N?" 

"Please," you say quietly. 

"Agent L/N?" 

"Detective, would you excuse us?" 

His voice. Your shoulders relax just enough to ease the ache in your neck. You hear the woman depart, but you're disorientated enough to ask, "Is she still here?" 

"She's not here." 

“She looked-“ like her. You press your wet hands to the bottom of the sink. It's silver and covered in scratches, a thousand scratches that glow white with the fluorescents. "I don't think I should be here," you mumble. 

"I think you're overwhelmed." 

"I am." You cringe at the numbness spreading up your arms. "I don't know how to make it go away." 

Hotch isn't just your boss. He's a father. He was a husband. He knows how to comfort somebody and he's proven that to you already, but you're still surprised when he pulls your hands out of the sink. He holds both in one palm while he turns off the faucet, and then he tears off a wad of paper towels and starts to dry your fingers. 

"You're not in any danger here," he says, turning your hands palm up. "There are a wall of people out there who would stand in front of you. Nothing is going to happen to you." 

Despite his careful reassurances you're curling in on yourself, trying to hide. You don't want to be here. You're not sure where you want to be. You have the self-awareness to know you're being awful, that this is embarrassing, and you've put Hotch in a position he likely doesn't want to be in, too.  

You blink at his chest. "Where's your suit jacket?" you ask. Your voice sounds far away in one ear and too loud in the other. 

"I left it in the car," he says lightly. "We just got back from the rally. You were waiting for us here." 

"I didn't go." 

"No. You haven't been at your best." 

"I'm trying." 

"I know," he says softly, thumbs rubbing over your warming fingers. "I know you are. You're doing really well. Why don't we sit down?" 

You let him lead you backward into a hard-backed chair. He doesn't sit with you, but he doesn't let go of your hands. They're limp in his and smaller, colder. 

You think he might be the only thing keeping you here. 

"I've never been that scared before. I've had a… gun to my head and… it wasn't even her-" You choke on it. "Her. She hurt me and it wasn't even the worst part." 

He frowns down at you. "What was the worst part?" 

You let your fingers unfurl across his open palm. He pulls your hands to his chest, sandwiches them between his own hands and his crisp white shirt. His tie feels silky soft. 

"I didn't want to be alone. I," — you close your eyes and press your chin to your chest, hiding, always hiding — "knew I wasn't going to last long by myself. I could see that bottle of water on the table and I couldn't reach it and I just kept waiting for somebody to open the door and pass it to me, and I was so scared that nobody was ever going to do that.

"I close my eyes and- and I see it. I see the wood flooring, and I see the table. I can't remember anything that she said to me anymore, but I remember thinking you weren't ever coming to get me." 

You can see the way the light from a crack in the corrugated roof had lit the water bottle up like a lamp. You barely have to think about it and the image of it is there. Your mouth had ached.

You can see him if you try a little harder. The door flying open. Hotch in his vest with his hair falling onto his forehead, a gun in one hand and a flashlight held high in the other. His broad, quick sweep, and then the way he'd leapt for you. His voice, shouting, screaming instructions. You can feel his hand behind your head, his fingers pushed roughly into your hair. 

"You're okay," he'd said. 

You trust him with your life. You've never had cause to doubt him. But you hadn't believed him then, and you're not sure you do now. 

His expression changes slowly. He moves both of your hands into one of his own and squeezes them reassuringly as he cups your cheek. It's a quick touch, a half-second of contact. 

"You made a mistake, in that case," he says, hand moving from your cheek to the hill of your shoulder. 

You tamp down a wince. "Yeah." He's being generous. You'd made hundreds of mistakes. Every opportunity to save yourself wasted. 

"Your mistake," he says, holding your eye, his voice gritty with severity, "was thinking I wouldn't find you.”

He turns to a blur the longer you stare at him, panicked tears welling up with nowhere to go. You tip your head forward so he can't see them, and he steps closer in turn, ushering your face into his abdomen. 

His hand falls to your trembling back. 

"That was your only error. You did everything else right." 

Your tears come thick and fast. Hotch doesn't baulk. 

—

You agree to take some more time off. 

Realistically, you can't be an effective agent or a reliable member of the team whilst smothered in memories as you are. You don't take it personally when Hotch insists, as he takes great care to explain to you what's happening. 

This isn't a punishment. You need more time. 

You're a safety risk. Not that your consultation isn't valuable, it is, you're still a good profiler — an amazing profiler, if your team are to be believed — but you're in the aftershocks of a traumatic event. 

A wound can't heal if it's being picked at. 

"He said that?" you ask quietly, bed sheets upto your chin. 

Hotch's voice rings scratchy with tiredness down the line, "He said you can have all of the blue ones." 

"He's generous. He gets that from his dad." 

"He's much kinder than I am." You hear a small voice on the other end, and then a muffled, "Yeah, g-man, I'll tell her. I'll tell her right now. Okay. Y/N?" 

"Yeah, still here." 

"Jack says," he recounts, parent tone in play that tells you his son is nearby, "that you can have all the blue and all of the green band-aids, if you need them." 

You stare up at the white plaster ceiling of your apartment, a tiny smile playing on your lips. 

"Tell him I said thank you. I'm sure they'll make me all better in no time." 

He tells Jack what you've said. You hear his lovely voice saying something too quiet. "What was that?" Hotch asks him. 

"I said," Jack says, voice close to the receiver, "she just needs a kiss because they always make me feel better." 

"I've been getting lots of kisses!" you promise him, turning to look at your nightstand. 

Propped up proudly is a picture of you and your team in that restaurant in Las Vegas, where Reid hadn't been able to use his chopsticks, and where Hotch had laughed so loudly you'd felt your heart skip twice. It's surrounded by a sea of 'Get Well Soon' cards, and backdropped by a small bouquet of sweetpeas. 

Tell me when they wilt, Reid had said. And I'll get you another bunch. It's been proven that flowers have a long term positive effect on moods. People who received flowers regularly reported less agitation, less depression, and an overall sense of satisfaction. 

Beside the sweetpeas, in pride of place, is a handmade card from none other than Jack himself, though the message inside was penned by an older hand. 

"I'm well looked after," you say, smiling softly. 

"You're well loved," Hotch adds. 

That, too. 

༺༻

again, im not that used to writing hotch so despite my character study he may feel a little ooc that's my bad, hard to show him pining bc he's such a professional at work. thanks so much for reading!! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging i promise it means so much to me ♡

[harrysfolklore]

ALSO, i would 100% eat up the blurb ab bandmate!by releasing an album with a harry feature🩷🩷

FIRST BLURB OF OUR TWO YEAR ANNIVERSARY CELEBRATION <333 i really hope you like everything i’ll post this week, as usual let me know your thoughts 💗

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

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yourinstagram countdown till love on tour is over has begun and i’m crying already

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harryfan1 FELT THIS

paulithepsm legend

harryfan2 crazy to think that this tour basically gave him a relationship with THEE harry styles

annetwist ❤️

harrystyles 😢

↳ harryfan3 SAME HARRY SAME

liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 9,927 others

bassrry I MET HARRY AND YN TODAY IN MUNICH !! i told them that they’re like my parents and yn said “well when are the signing the adoptions papers” and harry only laughed and kissed her heard THEY’RE SO IN LOOVEEE

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harryfan1 OMFGGGG

harryfan2 CONGRATS IM SO JELOUS

harryfan3 i love how yn is bold and harry acts shy my fairytale couple

bassrry OH AND ALSO i told yn that i was going to miss her on stage and she said that she was going to miss it too but we might see her on stage again very soon and harry was like “shhh love that’s a secret” THEY DEF HAVE SOMETHING UP THEIR SLEEVES

↳ harryfan1 OMFG

↳ harryfan2 LOVE ON TOUR IS FOREVER

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harrystyles Love On Tour. Warsaw. July, 2023.

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harryfan1 BABYYYYYYYYYY

harris_reed Our little canary 💛

yourinstagram i’ll be dreaming about this crowd for the rest of forever

↳ harryfan2 AHH THEY LOVED US

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fullstopmgmt YN. Welcome to the Full Stop & Erskine family.

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harryfan1 OMG SLAYYY

harryfan2 she’s officially signed as an artist that’s so dope

harryfan3 harry’s first nepo baby

↳ yourinstagram nepo girlfriend so true

harrystyles 🙌🏻

harryfan4 I CANT WAIT TO HEAR HER MUSIC

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yourinstagram WET DREAM. THE DEBUT SINGLE OUT THIS FRIDAY.

RUSH! THE DEBUT ALBUM. OUT SEPTEMBER 25TH.

I CANT BELIEVE I’M TYPING THIS

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harryfan1 OMFGGGGG

jefezoff 🐐

harryfan2 THIS IS SO SLAY

harryfan3 wait does this mean she’s leaving the love band ???

annetwist Congratulations dear ❤️

harrystyles I’m insanely proud, bandmate x

↳ harryfan1 she’s basically harry’s first nepo baby awww

tayrussell 🤍

↳ harryfan2 SLAY

HARRY VIA INSTAGRAM STORIES

//

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harrystyles My bandmate just released her debut single. She’s pretty cool and talented, and she’s also the love of my life. Listen to ‘Wet Dream’ now x

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harryfan1 AHHHHHHH

pillowpersonpp 🥺💕

harryfan2 THE SONG IS SO GOOOOOD

yourinstagram couldn’t have done this without you, boss man. ily 😢

harryfan3 i’ll be streaming yessir

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harryupdates HARRY AND YN PERFORMING HER SONG WET DREAM IN LISBON TONIGHT !!

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harryfan1 OMFG

harryfan2 THEY WON SO HARD

harryfan3 MY PARENTS ACTUALLY

harryfan4 IM GOING TO MISS THEM SO MUCH

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harrystyles Love On Tour. Lisbon. July, 2023.

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harryfan1 ONE MORE SHOW IM NOT OKAY

gemmastyles ❤️

harryfan2 DONT LEAVEEEEE

yourinstagram look at us being rockstars together

harryfan3 SOBBING IM SOBBING

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yourinstagram the world of harry styles and LOT ruled and changed mine, and I wanted to take a moment to thank you all from the absolute bottom of my heart. I’m very much having all the complex feels that could ever possibly come with closing this chapter, but I have some weird faith that the next one is going to be incredible, as long as you're by my side @harrystyles. I hope I’ll see you all somewhere out there along the way…we’ll be alright.

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harryfan1 AWEEEE

harryfan2 IM CRYING

harrystyles Thank you for coming into my life, bandmate, and giving me all of those little gay skirts. I love you.

paulithepsm ❤️

harryfan3 I LOVE THEM SO BAD

FANS VIA TWITTER

//

liked by harrystyles, estehaim and 1,002,017 others

yourinstagram RUSH! COVER AND TRACKLIST IS HERE

AHHHH i'm over the moon about this! thank you to everyone who helped my vision come to life, i can't wait for you to hear it

and the rumors are true, we got mr @harrystyles on a track and you're going to love it

OUT SEPTEMBER 25TH

view all 26,098 comments

harryfan1 OMFGGGGG

jefezoff 🙌🏻

harryfan2 HARRY'S FIRST COLLAB EVER IS WITH YN !!!!! HOW ICONIC OMG

mitchrowland Legends.

harryfan3 THIS IS GOING TO BE SOOOO GOOD

harrystyles Thank you for having me x

↳ harryfan4 AHHHHH

liked by yourinstagram, spaceykacey and 6,094,389 others

harrystyles RUSH! is out. I'm beyond proud of everything that you are, and I feel tremendously honored to be part of this @yourinstagram. Listen to the debut album by YN now.

view all 79,389 comments

harryfan1 OMFGGGGGG

pillowpersonpp Congratulations buddies ❤

mtv We're not crying you are

harryfan2 UMM THE RIVER IS THE SONG OF THE YEAR WTFFFF THEIR VOICES SOUND AMAZING TOGETHER

yourinstagram thank you for letting be your first nepo baby. ily

↳ harryfan3 PLEASEEE I LOVE HER

↳ harryfan4 she embraces it

liked by harrystyles, haimtheband and 1,003,389 others

yourinstagram !!!!!! SEE YOU THERE. A LOT OF SURPRISES COMING

view all 31,008 comments

harryfan1 SO ICONIC

haimtheband We're ready 🤘🏻

harryfan2 harry's first ever gig as a solo artist was there too HOW BEAUTIFUL

jefezoff 👀

harryfan3 YALL WHAT IF HARRY SHOWS UP ON STAGE

↳ harryfan4 I WAS THINKING ABOUT THE SAME THING

harrystyles I'll definitely see you there x

↳ harryfan1 HIS ASS IS SO PERFORMING

liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 7,098 others

harryupdates HARRY PERFORMING THE RIVER WITH YN TONIGHT AT THE TROUBADOUR !!

view all 1,076 comments

harryfan1 AHHHH

harryfan2 I WAS THERE IT WAS AMAZING

harryfan3 OH MY FUCKING GOD

harryfan4 i still cant belive harry's first ever and propably only collab was with yn

harryfan5 ROCKSTARS

liked by harrystyles, sabrinacarpenter and 1,012,065 comments

yourinstagram ofc im getting a RUSH! tattoo because this project has changed my life and i can't believe it's the #1 album in the world right now

THANK YOU

view all 32,098 comments

harryfan1 SO HAPPY FOR HER

pillowpersonpp ❤❤

harryfan2 i can say i was here since she flirted with harry on stage

↳ damianodvd same

↳ harryfan3 HEEEELP HI DAMIANO

harrystyles So proud of you, bandmate x

harryfan4 she's going to win a grammy mark my words

taglist: @lightsoutstyles @willowpains @straightontilmornin @sleutherclaw @gimsaysay @hazzassmirk @platinumbarbie143 @musicforcinemas @celesteblack08 @scntfrhs @eleanordaisy @lomlolivia @iceebabies @iloveshawn @be-with-me-so-happily @watermelonsugacry @rayisthehoe @drewrry

[sitp-recs]

My AO3 Wrapped: 16 Drarry Recs

This year I’ve embraced a change of pace and read way less than I intended to. This made me feel a bit disconnected from fandom but also allowed me to put this list together in record time so let’s not complain too much 😂 this is shorter and lacking my usual commentary but I didn’t want to break the tradition of sharing my fave reads of the year! Be it for their creativity or peak romance, these 16 amazing fics made my heart beat faster and got me even more in love with Drarry. I’ve read most of them in the first half of the year and it was interesting to see so many fics over 40k, as my usual sweet spot is 10k - 20k. I love the mix of tropes featured here and am very excited to rec authors I’m reading for the first time. ps: I haven’t included any Erised fics since the fest is still ongoing.

Thank you dear creators for sharing so many brilliant works with us this year! 2023 wasn’t my best year fandom-wise, but life has been so generous in other areas that I can’t help but feel humbled today. I wish everyone a lovely start to the new year! As always, please mind the tags and take some time to shower these authors with the appreciation they deserve. Oh, and stay tuned for a rare pair list sometime soon ;)

🍆 Snug by @moonflower-rose (E, 6k)

8th year | touch-starved Harry | soft cock kink

Potter can't keep his hands off himself. Draco can't look away.

🧩 Muscle Memory by @corvuscrowned (E, 8k)

curse breaking | partners to lovers | memory magic

There's something just beneath the surface, just at the periphery of Harry's mind. They've been here before — they've done this before. If only he could remember it.

👹 draco malfoy's substitute murder service by @oknowkiss (E, 10k)

odd jobs | D/s undertones | open ending

When Harry joins the Curse Breakers shortly after his twenty-fifth birthday, he’s surprised to find himself assigned to the Department of Creatures, Cryptids, and Associated Calamities.

🏰 the earth from a distance by spqr (E, 15k)

time travel | Wizarding history | only one bed

“Well,” Harry said gamely, once they’d managed to find the Leaky Cauldron – still under construction but mercifully open for business – and he’d turned up a few knuts from his pockets, enough to get them a room for the night, “it could be worse.”

🎚️ O Come, All Ye Faithful by toomuchplor (E, 20k)

vicar Draco | established relationship | Church of England

Aunt Petunia died, that was what began everything. Or rather, Aunt Petunia was dying. In the act of dying. In which Draco finds faith in the church, and Harry finds faith in Draco.

🎄 Waking Up Slow by @sweet-s0rr0w and @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm (E, 22k)

shop owner Draco | summer romance | light angst

'Twas the night before Christmas, although it’s July / Draco’s a shopkeeper, no-one knows why / There’s hiking and witch caves, freak snowfalls and more / Bad Christmas jumpers, nosy neighbours galore / Narcissa’s here too, but… something’s amiss / And what’s in those chocolates that’s making them kiss?

🚬 Sun Thief by @floydig and BlackRose532 (E, 28k)

slice of life | fast sexual burn | dark humour

It’s 2005, and Draco Malfoy says, “Fuck the Ministry,” Harry works as a handyman in muggle London, and Draco should really stop pissing off the Squib gangs.

🍷 Winner Takes It All by @skeptiquewrites (E, 41k)

break up make up | down & out Draco | hurt/comfort

As with all his friends’ wagers, it starts small. Fifty Galleons for one kiss from Harry Potter is easily done.

🏖️ LA, Who Am I To Love You? by @epitomereally (E, 42k)

Draco in the Muggle World | pining Harry | recreational drug use

Harry’s summer in LA is not going as expected. Pansy Parkinson keeps inviting him to parties in the Hollywood Hills and harassing him to finally go to the physical therapist, Blaise Zabini keeps slipping new strains of his company’s magical weed into Harry’s pockets in hopes of an endorsement, and Draco Malfoy keeps having sex with everyone but Harry.

🫃Shine On, You Crazy Diamond by @lagerloutfic (E, 42k)

fwb to lovers | gay awakening (Harry) | mpreg (Draco)

Harry has probably always wanted Draco, it just took him a few years to figure that out. A story about the joy of discovering exactly who you are and how easy it can be once you do.

🚣‍♀️ Our Objective Remains Unchanged by @citrusses (E, 46k)

rowing AU | enemies to lovers | university setting

Harry Potter, returning member of the Oxford University Boat Club, has two goals for the spring of 2005: beat Cambridge, and beat Draco Malfoy. Perhaps not in that order.

🧶 Polar Night/Midnight Sun by toomuchplor (E, 54k)

cabin fic | wintery vibes | only one bed

Harry travels to arctic Norway on the trail of dragon egg poachers, only to find he's been assigned to work alongside the only NorMagPol Auror north of sixty: one Draco Malfoy.

🎩 Nights With You by @the-sinking-ship (E, 58k)

holiday fic | fake relationship | mutual pining

Draco is mortified when moments prior to departing for the most anticipated destination wedding of the year, he is cruelly dumped. But when he learns that Harry Potter has, at long last, split with his horrible boyfriend, Draco is certain his luck has changed.

👮🏻‍♂️Rookie Moves by peu_a_peu (E, 75k)

auror partners | slow burn | humour

Aurors Potter and Malfoy crack the case.

🖼️ where all the veins meet by @saxamophone (E, 146k)

sad bois | Grimmauld Place | found family | 8th year

It's the summer of 1998. The battle is over, and Voldemort is dead, but Harry still has more questions than answers. Who is he without a piece of Voldemort's soul in his head? What is he supposed to do now?

📼 Always Already by @aibidil (E, 170k)

time travel | forced proximity | mutual pining

Harry and Draco are perfectly fine, separately minding their business in 2004, when the Unspeakables conscript them into service... in the First War against Voldemort.

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Why We Never See Elendira's Story

In a story that emphasizes the human or otherwise sympathetic aspects to its focal characters, it’s very intriguing that Elendira remains an enigma right up until the very end of her story.

We receive some tantalizing hints that there is much, much more to Elendira than what we’re explicitly shown – asides from her apparent sole interest in witnessing the end of the world (to which she'd prefer to see Knives' chosen ending, but is prepared to act herself if he fails), she looks somewhat resigned when saying that nice men “die so easily”, that no matter what Vash does, humans will “ruin it”, and so on and so forth.

[ID: Two screenshots from Trigun Maximum Volume 11. In the first, over a rocky ground, Elendira says "I liked you better when you had nothing to lose. What a shame." She looks down, somewhat resigned, and continues "I don't like nice men. They die so easily." In the second, she stands, frowning and saying "No matter what Vash the Stampede does... there will always be those..." On a close up of her right eye, she says "...who ruin it." End ID.]

Elendira seems to have little to no faith in humanity, and in that sense, she seems a lot like Knives. Knives, who aims to become more and more powerful, and in the process, severing all meaningful ties he has with others on his quest to ensure no one can take advantage of him or use him. We know, of course, that Knives doesn't quite succeed here... but Elendira has. She is the peak of human (or part human? We never get an answer to her unexplained abilities) capability in speed, skill, and strength. The only reason Livio stood any chance in that fight was due to his incredible regeneration.

(As an interesting aside, she also has an interesting commonality with Vash - what comes to mind is her telling the kids to bury Livio because he "died" trying to protect them. Why does she care about that? Why does it matter? None of the other GHGs do this. This is not important to the point I'm making here but it's just interesting to me. There's very few characters who explicitly make a point of burying the dead.)

The point being, Elendira is the height of strength... and at the top, she is alone.

[ID: A panel from Trigun Maximum Volume 13. Elendira is in the action of dropping her white coat, which she has taken off to reveal an underarmour suit that is almost skeletal in appearance. She looks confident. End ID.]

In a story where characters' motives and pasts are told through their connections with others, through their memories with people they cared for, and through the eyes of the people who care for them...

Vash's story is eventually told in pieces to humanity through Meryl, through Luida, and through his sisters. Rem survives in Vash's memories, and we see the part of her story that young Vash saw, just as we also see his own past from this recollection of her.

Milly is a clarifier and communicator who sees so strongly the sides of Meryl and Vash that they suppress, all that grief and fear, for the sake of remaining steadfast. She is the one whose eyes we see through. It had to be seen to be told. Wolfwood does this too.

The rest of GHGs get some elaboration also. Hoppered is defined through his loss of the woman he cared for in July. Midvalley is defined by his fear and contention with Knives. They also have a dynamic between them that few of the other GHGs shared - and it's likely for this reason we received more elaboration on the two of them than many of the others. But even characters like Rai-Dei, for whom we don't get very much at all, has at least his sunk-cost fallacy explained through the memories of the people he's killed to get to that point.

Chronica's story, though largely removed from the people of No Man's Land, is given definition and stakes through the loss of Domina, and we are told about her incredible determination and strategy she has through her reputation with the Earth fleet.

Legato, desperate to play a singularly important role in Knives' story, tells his own through that lens and that lens only. The moment his life changed was the moment Knives entered it, and that is likely the most important memory to him - Knives is the only meaningful bond he has (sadly for him, this was not reciprocated). Well, an argument can be made for the contentious dynamic he builds with Vash too.

Even Knives, for all that he tried to separate himself from others, is known and seen through his connection with Vash - and his acceptance and unwillingness to fully lose this connection is not only what eventually saves him, but also the reason we, as the audience, know his story so well.

We see characters' stories in Trigun mainly through the bonds they share with others - never the whole story, but the sides that others knew of them.

So, who does Elendira have? Every interaction she has is shallow, dismissive, and exceedingly temporary. Through her dislike of Legato, we get that she may be somewhat bitter about his important status to Knives... but there is no elaboration, because it goes no further than that. Knives calls her directly on the phone, and she is very invested in his vision for the end of the world and intrigued by him... but it goes no further than that. He does not really seem to care about her beyond her effectiveness, and she does not offer any information about herself. Even her allegiance is kind of flimsy. She's only there because she wants to be.

During their final fight, Wolfwood lives on through Livio, through his actions and resolve. It is the teamwork between him and Razlo, in the spirit of Wolfwood, that eventually overpowers Elendira. Amusingly (at least to me), Livio is quite literally never alone, because he always has Razlo - and now, Wolfwood too.

"Yer too strong... and that's why yer gonna lose."

[ID: A screenshot from Trigun Maximum Volume 13. Livio narrates over a shot of his eye, Razlo's eye, and finally, his whole face, with Wolfwood's final vial of serum between his teeth. "...to me... to Razlo... and to him." End ID.]

Elendira has succeeded in separating herself from everyone – she is the most powerful of the GHG, and every battle with her is basically one-sided – but she’s alone, and that’s not only why she loses… it’s also why we never get to know her in any meaningful way.

Because no one knows her. She has no personal connection with anyone. Her motivations never get any clarity. We don’t even know who did her modifications or how she gained her power. Even if she did have someone she cared for in the past, she apparently does not hold onto their memory. And maybe that's the reason she told the kids to bury Livio - not out of respect, but because to her, that is where the past belongs - dead and buried, soon to be joined by the rest of the world and humanity as it all comes to an end.

We never see Elendira’s story… because there is no one from whose eyes we can see it in any capacity.

[romanarose]

Banner by @winniethewife

Oscar Issac/Pedro Pascal Fan Art and Fiction Pride Event 2024

Hello friends!

Let's try this again and I'll try to be more clear to not invoke discourse. That being said, it is *my* event and if you'd like to run one a certain way, go nuts. However, this is how I'm doing it.

I had a lot of fun doing Dead Dove December and the Triple Frontier Anniversary Event so I decided I wanted to do an event for pride this year! I know it seems far away right now, especially given how many of us in north America are still cold af, but I wanna give everyone time!

Each week of pride will have a theme to write or draw for (you don't have to do all of them! Think of it like kinktober.) at the end, I will put out a masterlist (or multiple depending how many)so we can all share each other's work.

Why?

Oscar Isaac and Pedro Pascal are both allies to LGBT people, Pedro having played multiple queer rolls and having likened his sexuality to that of Prince Oberyn. Despite none of the characters being canon queer, Triple Frontier specifically lends itself to queer stories. Recently, theres been a rise in stories of Oscar characters in relationships or Pedro characters in relationships which I love.

What I'd really like to do is encourage people to think past x fem!reader or canon presentation of characters. I want to encourage gay, lesbian, bisexual relationships, trans readers, trans interpretations of characters etc. More content guidelines will be in the what section.

Where?

Primarily tumblr.com, our very own shithole hellsight. However, especially given tumblr's censorship vs. twitter, I am encouraging posting on twitter or wherever you'd like. If you post something elsewhere, send me a link or send me a post you made about it on tumblr and I'll promote the link.

Additionally if you only write on ao3, I'd love for you to participate too! Once again, just send the link!

When?

in order to do the week by week themes and hold all of June, there will be 6 weeks from May 26th-July 6th

Each week will have themes. I won't be policing the weeks and these so if you do the 1st week on july 3rd, that's fine. The themes are keeping in mind both artists and writers. I only got one artist for DDD, a great piece and I've love to see more! Ideas are just for spit balling, do your own take!

May 26th-June 1st: Coming out. Ideas: Coming out to family, lover, friend. Finding gender affirming clothes/hair, first pride

June 2nd-8th: Transitioning Ideas: Surgary, surgery scars, starting T or E, binding (safely!!!)

June 9th-15th: Sex/kissing First time together, first time with certain biology or the same sex, sweet kisses, smut showing scars,

June 16th-22nd: Food, fashion, fun

All things queer culture and culture of different religions, racial or country backgrounds, queer fashion, gender affirming clothes, Keshet (קשת), listening to Lady Gaga or Bruce Springsteen, watching a queer movie

June 23rd-29th: Struggles Rejection, reconciling faith and identity, missing family that rejected one, comfort, candlelight vigil, day of remembrance.

June 30th- July 6th:Strength Asserting ones or a partner/friend/family's pronouns, standing up against hate, being loudly and proudly yourself, pride events

Who?

Writers and artists in any form are welcome. I also want to encourage working with each other, writers and artists together!

For characters: Any Oscar Isaac or Pedro Pascal character has to at least be in the relationship. Other characters in universes can be done, such as FishBen.

Reader can be anyone, just properly tag! If you want to come out to Marc Spector as bisexual, do it!!! If you want Joel to take care of you after top surgery, do it!

YOU DO NOT NEED TO BE QUEER TO PARTICIPATE!

However! Please do your research if writing or drawing an identity not yours. There are trans, nonbinary, gay, lebian etc bloggers all over tumblr who write about their experience, please divert to first person testimonies rather than assumptions.

What?

A few rules

MUST contain more than male character x fem!reader. Male character x fem!reader x male character does not count unless the two male characters are romantically or sexually involved or one or the reader is trans. Any Q's, dm me!

This is not a dark event. I'm not going to be policing the content matter but I really want to primarily focus on the pride. However, as a bisexual, gender non-conforming person I know a lot of pain can still be involved. What we are not doing is suicide, death, self-harm, or non consensual activity. If you have questions or would like to make a case for something, just dm me!

This is not inherently NSFW, but there is absolutely NSFW allowed. Always tag everything properly.

The usual no's like bestiality, incest, underage nsfw etc

As far as minor characters, SFW MINOR CHARACTERS IS ALLOWED. You can write or draw lgbt themes because being LGBT is not inherently sexual. For example, teenage Santi coming out as trans to Frankie or your own version of Ellie and Joel's talk about Ellie and Dina kiss. That being said, I'd prefer to reserve this to teens. Again, any questions or ideas that don' quite fit into parameters, just ask!

As always, I am allowed to use my discretion. If I do not want to include something, I won't. However, I know that there are rifts in the fandom. I won't be excluding you out of personal bias. As long as I don't have you blocked and you haven't plagerized or done something really bad to people, you'll be included. I'm not letting petty beefs get in the way. Harmful actions will, however. I need to protect my peace and keep

NO REAL PERSON FANFICTION. Do not write about Oscar Isaac or Pedro pascal being gay or trans and do not make any assumptions about their sexuality or gender identity. Oscar is happily married to a woman and Pedro has expressed his sexuality is like that of Oberyn Martell but has not elaborated much further, nor should he have to. Just leave ‘em be. You can speculate elsewhere but that’s not what this event is for.

How?

Simply tag me, @romanarose and use the #OscarPedroPrideEvent2024 please please please use BOTH so it's easier for me to find!!!

When the event is over, much like DDD I will compiled them into a masterlist and posted. This is a chance for every blog, big and small, to get a moment in the sun and to share each others works! Remember, reblogging, comments, and interacting is what makes this a community! I want to create an environment that is welcoming and we all help each other.

Please feel free to reach out to me for any questions or clarification!

However, if you go issues with me writing men kissing, chracters being trans, queer readers etc, I'm not really open to debate.

~A nonbinary bisexual <3

[phantom-of-the-memes]

And just the parallels these people are drawing, trying to insult me, an Irish person, when I’m talking about freeing Palestine. They’re sooo telling.

All these people demanding Palestinian activists tell them whether or not they “condemn Hamas”, which is just such bullshit and a bad faith question. I highly recommend watching the interview the Palestinian ambassador gave on the bbc, just completely obliterating this question. But yes these people will then turn around to me as soon as I speak on Palestine, and ask “do you condemn the IRA!?!?!”.

Once again asked by people without a shred of knowledge on the history of Ireland or Palestine.

First, on the IRA. The IRA (Irish Republican Army) was formed in 1917 from the members of the Irish Volunteers and the Irish Citizen Army. Notice the key words “volunteers” and “citizen”. It was never an army, just a volunteer resistance force of Irish citizens. They didn’t even have weapons at the start. They would train in the woods holding hurls to substitute guns. It wasn’t until the risings when they received weapons donated by other nations supporting the Irish gaining freedom.

More Irish people (who didn’t have the army training the British forces had) were killed and imprisoned by the British, than they killed the British. Various risings and civil wars continued until the Republic came to be in 1948. The six counties of the North are still of course under British rule.

My point is, people (*cough cough* Americans) who “love” Ireland and are so happy that Ireland gained freedom, then turn around and ask us to “condemn the IRA/ Hamas”…

I’m not even going to go into the fact that the IRA has since splintered off into a million different factions and some of them are involved in organised crime, blah, blah. Because again, “condemning the IRA” for gaining freedom for the republic because of the later actions of SOME of them, is just bad faith!

People looovvvee Ireland and Irish culture and are glad the republic exists and are “sad” for the North, but don’t want to acknowledge that we’ve only come this far by violent resistance! If we could’ve just asked real nice for England to fuck off, in the 700 years they occupied us, we would’ve! Peace talks don’t do shit when one side is a colonising power that doesn’t want to leave the other alone!

And again, it’s assuming that colonisation and apartheid states aren’t violent themselves. In both Palestine and Ireland, our oppressors subjugated and forced us into unimaginable conditions for so fucking long. Then when people try to oppose them, they’re called terrorists?

I mean shit, you Americans even have your 4th of July where you celebrate how you guys violently overthrew the English and gained independence. Do we condemn those soldiers for killing British soldiers? I mean every Independence Day of every country involves form of violent rebellion… that’s how shit gets done.

Hamas is a small resistance group. The IDF is a literal army with actual training and the world’s best weapons provided by the biggest powers of the world. EVEN IF somehow Hamas was a big scary terrorist organisation with military grade weapons, what Israel is doing has nothing to do with Hamas. They are bombing fucking children, hospitals, refugee camps, journalists!! All of which are fucking war crimes.

Israel is flooding social media with propaganda about how the hospitals were “Hamas headquarters”. Taking pictures of a board with the days of the week in Arabic and claiming it’s “Hamas terrorist plans”.

This is what the English depicted us as, and it’s what Israel will depict Palestine as. Of course we’re going to support them.

A great quote from on of my favourite films (Pride, 2014) is: “I don’t believe the papers when they talk about us, why should I believe it when they talk about them?”.

[mcytblraufest]

MCYTBLR AU Fest: General Rules and FAQ

TIMELINE: May 13: Writer creation starts, Discord opens. May 13-15: Writers seeking Beta Readers can sign up (having a Beta Reader is optional) May 17: Beta Readers can claim stories and be assigned to Teams (having a Beta Reader is optional) May 29-30: Team Check-in #1 June 12-15: Writer seeking Artists can sign up June 17-18: Artists can claim stories and be assigned to Teams July 1-2: Team Check-in #2 July 10: Podficcer creation start. If you are working with a podficcer, this is your creation end date, and their start date. July 17: Main creation end. Unless you have an extension, you should both be ready to post at this point. July 17-23: Posting Week

MCYTBLR AU Fest is a mini big-bang event where artists and writers work together in teams to make stories and art inspired by MCYT and set in an Alternate Universe.

Expectation: Writers must deliver a story of at least 5k words. Artists must deliver a finished piece of art inspired by the story they signed up for. Dark or triggering topics or themes must be tagged for.

Rules:

You must be a member of the discord, for team matching.

Because of Tumblr, Ao3 and Discord TOS, you must be 13 to participate.

Make a good-faith effort to respect streamer boundaries

You agree to work together with your teammate(s) to make a piece of art and a fic together.

All works must be MCYT-centric and set in an AU— no canon-compliance.

No AI-Generated content.

Links:

Discord: Here

FAQ:

What is MCYTBLR AU Fest? MCYTBLR AU Fest is a minibang-type event where writers and artists come together to create fanworks centred on MCYT and set in an alternate universe from canon.

How does it work? Writers will have a month to start work on a draft. After a month, at the half-way mark of their draft, they create a short summary/synopsis of their fic, which is posted anonymously for artists to view and claim. Teams are assigned by mods, and then teams will then have another month of creation time. Artists will create art based on the story they chose, and writers will finish their fic (minimum 5k words).

What type of MCYT is included? We welcome creations based on any SMP, whether or not they have a canon tag on Ao3. Mianite, DSMP, Hermitcraft, 3rd Life, Lifesteal, Witchcraft SMP— it's all welcome.

Can I join if my Art is a Playlist/Web Weave? You can particpate as an artist if your art is:

Digital/Traditional Art

Podfic

Playlist

Web Weave

What are the requirements for art? The requirements for different forms of art are:

Digital or Traditional art: a minimum of one piece, finished, inspired by the author's work.

Podfic: a podfic of the author's work, edited to whatever a baseline level of editing is for you.

Playlists: a minimum of one playlist inspired by the author's work per 5k, rounding up, to a limit of three required playlists. Playlists must be a minimum of an hour each.

Web Weaves: a minimum of one web weave inspired by the author's work per 5 k, rounding up, to a limit of two required web weaves, with at least ten elements each.

Other Art Form: other art forms such as fan games, original songs, would fall under this category. If you wanted to sign up with an Other art form, you need to contact the mod team and work out what minimum expectations would be for your art.

If I want to make more web weaves, can I? You can make as many pieces of art as you wish, the limit is just on what is required/expected by the mod team. For example, if your writer wrote a 10k work, you would be required to make two web weaves– but you could do as many as you want. If your writer wrote a 50k work, you would still only be required to make two web weaves, but you can do as many as you want.

Is anything required from me if I'm working with a particular type of artist? In general the requirement is just to be collaborative and communicative with your artist, but the one exception is if you are working with a podficcer. A podficcer can't start work until your work is complete (including editing), so to make sure they actually have time to record, anyone working with a podficcer will be required to finish a week early (so your writing completion deadline would be to finish by the 10th of July, instead of the 17th). In addition, podficcers will be generally expected to post near the end of posting week, so that they have two weeks to do the recording.

I heard there was web weaves, can I sign up for web weaves only? To increase matching opportunities, as a creator you must opt in to at least two types of art.

Is shipping allowed? Yes. For the comfort of the greatest number of participants, we ask that participants make a good-faith effort to ensure that any shipping is boundary-respecting, but because there is no broad fandom-wide consensus about how that is defined in specific cases (whether it's okay to write beeduo as /r or /p is an obvious case) or between specific fandoms (lifesteal approach to shipping is different from HBG is different from DSMP), the mods will not be policing any specific understanding of boundaries across the event. The event will operate on Don't Like Don't Read, in that everyone will have the chance to pick for themself if they are comfortable working with any specific ship, romantic or platonic, and it will not be permitted to change the nature of a relationship to /r after teams are assigned.

Is NSFW allowed? Yes, nsfw is permitted as long as it respects creator boundaries. When pitching a work, it must be clearly stated that the work contains NSFW content. To sign up to create an NSFW work everyone on the team must be 18+, and adding NSFW to a work after teams have been assigned is not permitted, even if everyone on the team is 18+. For the comfort of the greatest number of people in the exchange and the mod team, nothing that would warrant the tags Underage, Rape/Noncon, Dubcon, or Incest would be permitted.

If noncon isn't permitted, is non-consentual touching (platonic) allowed? As technically a punch in the face counts as non-consensual touching, and pvp is a classic part of most MCYT canons, we find banning all nonconsensual contact to be unnecessarily restrictive. As long as nonconsensual contact is not sexual in nature, it is permitted, however, it must be tagged for adequately along with any other potentially triggering content.

Do you allow dark or violent content? Yes. The lore of many mcyt servers includes death games, abuse, cannibalism, murder-for-hire, and other dark or violent themes. However, all potentially triggering content must be tagged for and those tags must be part of the sign-up, so collaboraters can make an informed choice to get infolved or not. Moreover, if your fic is rated E for any reason (including violence or gore), your team must be 18+.

How can I get involved? You can participate in this event as a:

Author

Artist

Pinch Hitter (Artist)

Pinch Hitter (Writer)

Beta Reader

You can even sign up for multiple roles, as long as you're very sure you can make your deadlines!

What is a Pinch Hitter? A pinch hitter is a person who saves the day and steps in when the original creator is unable to deliver their work for whatever reason, making a new work on an accelerated timeline. In case of pinch hitting a fanfic, you will will be asked to either write using the original writer's outline, or pitch a new story for the artist to pick among. If you are an artist, you will step in to make a new piece of art for a writer whose original artist dropped out.

Can I participate as a beta reader? Yes! Matching with a Beta Reader will be optional, but creators will have the opportunity to sign up to have a Beta Reader join their team for brainstorming, accountability, spellcheck, editing, or whatever else they need. Matching beta readers will be first come first serve.

What kind of a summary will I provide as a writer? How long or detailed? We ask that you keep your summary to two paragraphs or shorter, about as long as the AO3 Summary + Author's Note boxes. When you write out this summary, you should be about halfway through your draft, so you will have a general sense of how the story goes. In addition to a description of your fic, we'll ask that you list out the Server it takes place on, what type of AU it is, any ships (romantic or platonic), the expected word count, what age group of people you are okay working with, and any trigger tags that you expect to take place in the story.

When do I have to join the discord? You have the option to join the dicord and hang out as soon as creation starts on May 13, and if you are signing up either as a Beta Reader or wanting to be matched with a Beta Reader, you need to join the discord before signups close on May 15. If you don't need a beta reader or you already have someone you normally work with, you only have to join the discord before author sign ups close for artist matching, which is June 15.

Why do authors have to be halfway through their draft to sign up? How are you checking this? This is both to decrease the number of people who drop out halfway through, and to make sure that the artist definitely has something to work with. If you write your entire fic in the weekend before the posting deadline, that means the artist has a matter of days or hours for them to do their work, which isn't fair. Writers will be expected to submit a google doc with their half-draft in it at sign-up, for mods to verify word count.

How does team assignment work? We will release a document with all the summaries in it, and shortly afterwards we will release a sign-up form. Artists will be expected to list out out a top-five of stories they want to work with, and mods will match artists with stories on a first-come-first-served basis.

What happens if there are more artists than authors, or more authors than artists? If there are more artists, some fics will be assigned multiple artists. If there are more authors, we will put in place a question where artists can specify that they'd be willing to make multiple pieces, and a (hopefully small) number of artists would be assigned multiple teams.

What if all the fics I list have already been assigned? If artists outnumber authors, mods will set your list aside for later. Once every fic has one artist, we will assign you as a secondary artist to one of your chosen fics. If authors outnumber artists, you will need to submit another claim. While mods will update the form throughout the claiming period and remove fully claimed fics, there may be some delay with removing fics if we are unavailable.

I’m in [insert time zone here]. What if I’m not awake when claims open? There will be a spot to input your time zone in the discord. Mods will try to open the claims at a time that works for as many artists as possible. The fic summaries will also be available for 24 hours before claims so that everyone can read the summaries and pick out the ones that sound most interesting to them. We will aim for claims to open between 7 a.m. and 1 a.m. for as many artists as possible across all time zones. If claims fall outside that zone for you, you'll be able to contact a mod and we'll work out an alternative method for claims for you.

I don't know what time zone I'm in? Go to timeanddate.com and enter the nearest major city, and it will tell you your current time zone.

What's a check-in and how do they work? Check-ins are there to make sure everyone is on track to finish their piece in time, and to communicate any issues with the mods! If you know that you won’t be able to check in on a specific date (lack of internet, etc), please contact the mods in advance.

How long should my fic be? The minimum word count is 5,000 words! There is no maximum word count, but we ask you to be mindful of how much you can actually create in these two months.

If I wrote a multi-chapter work, do I have to have it all posted by the end of Posting Week? You must complete your work by the end of posting week, but in the cases of longer works, you may want to stretch out posting. In cases where you want to extend posting, you will be able to send in your draft to be verified by the mods, and then post just 40% of the draft during posting week.

What does AU mean in this context? AU stands for Alternate Universe and in this case means anything that would make the work not able to be tagged as canon compliant. Alternate endings, role reversals, complete setting or plot swaps, and crossovers all count. As this is a fest specifically to celebrate AUs, we ask that the AU be a significant and celebrated part of the work, not something that could be skipped if you aren't paying attention.

Can I create two pieces of art? Absolutely! There is no maximum for number of pieces you want to create, but again, be mindful of not biting off more than you can chew in a month of creation time.

Can I sign up with two fics? You are welcome to sign up as part of the fest with multiple fics, especially given that the word count is reasonably achievable for many people. However, if you do so, we will ask that you prioritize which fic you want to be matched on first, and you will only receive a match to your secondary fic after everyone else has an artist. We're going to proritize every particpant getting a team before we prioritize every story getting a team.

Can I sign up with a writing buddy— as part of a collab team? You are welcome to sign up as a collaborative team! We ask that you make sure you work together well, and when you sign up for an artist, you must declare that you're a team, so people know that they'll be getting multiple writers and not one.

Can I submit a fic that is part of a larger story? All stories must stand alone, you can't have it so that your artist has to read other works to understand your existing work. The fic also must be written specifically for the event. We ask that you not submit a summary for a fic that was already written prior to the start of the event. Brainstorming or outlining starting early is fine.

What if I need to drop out? It is your responsibility to communicate with us if you need to drop out of the event for any reason, and we do need that communication. We know that life is no respecter of fic and art deadlines, so no hard feelings if something happens. However, we would hate for any writer to end up having no art for their fic, so please think about this if you are thinking of dropping out close to reveals. Likewise, it would suck if an artist put a lot of effort into creating art for a fic that ends up not being written, so authors, please inform us in advance if you must drop out or think you will not be able to complete your fic on time. Dropping out after the last check-in without informing the mods will result in not being permitted to take part in further events run by this mod team.

I have a question not answered here? Send us an ask on tumblr, contact @antimony-medusa on tumblr or discord!

[seventies-arcana]

PAC: what blessings are coming for you this upcoming august?

welcome! in this pick a card (it's really a pick a pile), you will find out what potential blessings are coming to you this august, 2023. gentle reminder that because this is a pick a pile reading, it is meant for many people, so take what resonates and leave what doesn't.

politely call upon your guides/higher self to guide you to what pile/photo you should pick, then read the corresponding message.

pick a picture to begin ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

pile one (the island): ace of pentacles, four of wands, the empress

there's a sense of new prosperity entering your life, likely with some sort of relationship, whether its romantic or platonic. theres so much happy-go-lucky energy with this pile, meaning that you'll be feeling really good. you've met someone who makes you feel empowered, who respects you and understands your worth, allowing for a great duality between the two of you. theres a lot of fun energy with this relationship, and im seeing imagery of two people enjoying social events. this can be going to amusement parks, town fairs, lunch dates, beach days, overall doing things together in public. your vibing, going with the flow, and most importantly, enjoying yourself. this relationship carries no expectations or stress, something your very thankful for-- perhaps independence is important to you this month.

pile two (the water): ten of swords, five of swords, queen of cups

something happened at the end of july or the beginning of august that left you feeling lost, hurt, and/or saddened. don't be fearful though-- emotional healing is coming. this month is one of selfcare and reflection. your prioritizing yourself and reflecting back on your emotions. im seeing the possibility of you journaling, perhaps this could be a great outlet for yourself to get any unsaid feelings out of your system. once you reflect on what happened that hurt you, you will feel physically lighter and mentally cleansed. overall, your taking time to yourself, resting and relaxing, and of course, no longer beating yourself up for things that happened in the past. im also seeing a lot of water imagery, perhaps your spending time by the poolside, on a boat, or maybe even spending time in the bath. being with water is something that you'll be enjoying this month.

pile three (the table): the emperor, ace of wands, nine of cups

i am feeling a lot of passion with this pile, especially in a creative sense. your set in what you want, possibly something related to a new buisness venture, a spontaneous trip, or even a new relationship with someone (if this is the case, im sensing a lot of physical chemistry and playful enjoyment). either way, this is something you have been wanting that has finally come into fruition, and now its time to go ahead and physically start what you have been wanting to do! you've gained the materials to do so, and a leap of faith is required to get going. trust yourself, remain enthusiastic, and enjoy what has finally come your way. its extremely possible that this is something you have been manifesting, and august is definitely the month of when youre getting the beginnings of it in your physical reality. your going to be having fun and shamelessly indulging yourself (which is totally worth it). the go ahead is present, the green flags are waving, this is the chance you have been waiting for to do whatever your passionate about!

please like, follow, comment, and reblog! i appreciate it a lot ♡

[drchucktingle]

Hi! Chucked the first Tingler, but it was Straight so it was more pulse than pound. Anyway, I enjoyed it, thank you! Do you have any plans for future horror or sci fi novellas?

I AM GLAD YOU ENJOYED STRAIGHT thank you very much buckaroo.

yes chuck will have two simultaneous writing outputs i will continue to self publish romance and erotica and also traditionally publish queer horror with macmillan imprint NIGHTFIRE who are just wonderful. as part of contract chuck signed it was very important that i was allowed to keep making erotic tingler art at same time, and nightfire buds said 'heck yeah buckaroo' which i think says a lot about their faith in my trot

this summer (july 18 on this timeline) CAMP DAMASCUS will come out in hardcover. this is a queer horror novel about a conversation therapy camp that i am sure you will enjoy and will also rile up conservative scoundrels everywhere. i am very excited about that one, and fact that lead character is autistic like chuck also means a lot to me.

after that is BURY YOUR GAYS (this will come out 2024 this timeline i think) which is the next horror novel. it is not directly connected to camp damascus but as you can tell from camp damascus and straight CHUCK HAS A STYLE OF USING QUEER HORROR TO TACKLE SOCIAL ISSUES. i think tumblr buckaroos ESPECIALLY will like bury your gays.

anyway if you would love to support chuck and my trot PRE-ORDERS are very important to these traditional publishing big timers, so pre-ordering camp damascus would be dang wonderful if that is your way

[queerprayers]

update <3

I've been procrastinating this (as if that could make it all less real), but so many people have sent prayers and well wishes that I wouldn't feel right not letting you know how grateful I am for your words and also letting you know this: My beloved grandfather died last week.

I honor the faithful service he gave to countless churches and communities, the children he helped raise, the grandchildren he sang to, the children he baptized, the couples (including my parents) he married, the people he buried, the music and faith that never left him even when so much of him did.

I will pass on the last thing he ever said to me, in July, after a busy and joyful weekend celebrating his fiftieth wedding anniversary, as he got in bed for his nap, taking seconds in between words to think: "It's not all hard. Not all the time." This is so hard. But it's also part of loving someone: promising to mourn them when the time comes. Promising to keep going. Love is hard, but it's not all hard. Not all the time.

His funeral will be Catholic, but he used to be a Lutheran, and he presided over many funerals from the worship book I still use, so here are some words I've been saying from there:

O God of grace and glory, we remember before you today our brother. We thank you for giving him to us to know and to love as a companion in our pilgrimage on earth. In your boundless compassion, console us who mourn. Give us your aid, so we may see in death the gate to eternal life, that we may continue our course on earth in confidence until, by your call, we are reunited with those who have gone before us; through your Son, Jesus Christ our Lord.

Into your hands, O merciful Savior, we commend your servant. Acknowledge, we humbly beseech you, a sheep of your own fold, a lamb of your own flock, a sinner of your own redeeming. Receive him into the arms of your mercy, into the blessed rest of everlasting peace, and into the glorious company of the saints in light.

The generations rise and pass away before you. You are the strength of those who labor; you are the rest of the blessed dead. We rejoice in the company of your saints. We remember all who have lived in faith, all who have peacefully died, and especially those most dear to us who rest in you. Give us in time our portion with those who have trusted in you and have striven to do your holy will. To your name, with the Church on earth and the Church in heaven, we ascribe all honor and glory, now and forever. Amen.

O death, where is thy sting? O grave, thy victory? The strife is o'er, the battle done. Love will come again like wheat arising green. The Lord bless and keep him. The Lord make his face to shine upon him and be gracious to him. The Lord look upon him with favor and grant him peace.

I'm not a Catholic, and was never really taught to pray for souls, but I think I get it a bit now. He was, though, and if that's something you do, I'm sure he would have welcomed that. (And if you know any good saints to throw in the mix, go for it.) My grandmother could also use your prayers.

Thank you for reading this, and holding for a moment the love I have for him. It's heavy right now, and easier to carry with others' prayers beside me. I am praying beside you as well, especially with the many people who have sent me asks that have gone unanswered for ages now. And God holds all of us, more than we could ever imagine. I don't claim to understand death, but I am in the palm of the universe's hand, and my granddad is too, reunited with all that left him in his sickness, and united with a God who knows death intimately. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, love to love.

<3 Johanna

[the1975attheirverybest]

Malaysia, July 21st, 2023

DISCLAIMER: Here is the requested piece in support of the boys' decision today. I decided it needed to be a one shot cuz I couldn't do it justice in just a few words. I've based the conversations in this piece on similar things Matty has said about gender. GENDER AND SEXUALITY ARE NOT THE SAME THING, THOUGH. So, if any of it comes off in bad faith, erroneous, or in any way harmful, its not my intention to do so, and PLEASE feel free to let me know INSTANTLY!

Warning: nothing. but idk how i feel about the writing quality given that it was written on the spot. I mean, I'm not necessarily aiming for ART here. just an appreciation for today and a gesture of support to LGBTQ+ Fans everywhere.

----

She could feel her phone buzzing in her pocket all throughout her 3 pm meeting. It was distracting, but not necessarily out of the ordinary. With time zone differences, it wasn't unusual for Matty to be texting her while she was at work, asleep in the middle of the night, or early in the morning before her coffee. Even when she'd finally wrapped up her meeting and left the conference room, the messages on screen weren't cause for concern. Receiving texts from her friends and colleagues like "omg your boyfriend," "Matty sure loves the drama, lol." and "PUT A LEASH ON HIM HES INSANE" just came with the territory of being Matty's partner. She didn't mind it at all. In fact, sometimes she found it funny.

She scrolled past several texts from her friends, spotting Denise's name "two countries now. Bets on which one's next?' with several confusing emojis. she frowned, her heart sinking slightly. Was this more serious than a regular Matty rant? a fan kiss? a polarizing meme? with apprehension, she reluctantly checked the news, whispering "oh fuck," under her breath when she saw the headlines.

She tossed her laptop and meeting notes at her desk, rushing outside as quickly as possible, and scrolling through her call log to find Matty's number. She clicked the elevator button, willing it to arrive faster by repeating "c'mon, c'mon, c'mon." knowing that it wouldn't help, she still gave into the urge to click the button repeatedly and curse when the elevator failed to bend to her will. Finally, she decided to just take the fire exit, using the stairs instead.

She clicked Matty's name on her screen as she made it down the stairs, bringing the phone to her ears.

An overly cheerful female robotic voice announced in her ear that "The number you have dialed is disconnected."

"fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuckkkk!"

she paused in the middle of the staircase, leaning against the wall and attempting to calm her mind with several deep breaths. She knew the only person who could help her right now would be Denise.

***

"No, I get that, but- like- so, you haven't heard from him directly?" she bit her lower lip.

"Not yet, no. But I wouldn't worry about it, love. this isn't his first foreign government ban, you know." Denise giggled, sounding as proud as a mother of a child who just learned to take their first steps. "doesn't that sound impressive? He's like a less secretive James Bond."

Impressive wasn't exactly her first thought, but she knew that if Matty is safe right now, he's probably impressed with himself. The thought made her crack a smile. "Knowing Matty, he'd probably say that he'd love to be a super secret spy who gets pussy, but he's anti government espionage, so he can't be James Bond."

***

All she could really do in the moment was send a barrage of messages that covered the entire spectrum of human emotions: from expressing concern for Matty's safety, to accusing him of messing with her heart, to begging him to give her a sign that he's alright, she found herself unable to think about anything else for the rest of the afternoon.

Just as she'd walked through the door of their shared home, she nearly jumped out of her skin at the feeling of her phone vibrating in her hand.

Matty: Call rn? ❤️

She instantly hit the "Video Call" icon on her FaceTime screen.

The line rang once, twice, and then "yo!!" Matty attempted to greet her before being interrupted by someone off-screen. She could faintly tell that it was Ross. "No, no. I'm just on FaceTime with her- yeah- it's fine....sorry, Darlin.' I'm just-"

"Next time you plan a government rebellion give me a courtesy warning in advance, will you??" she interrupted him. All the feelings and worries she'd been attempting to repress came pouring out of her. "I had no idea where you were for, like, all day. And- why was your phone turned off, anyway! We have a deal. You promised-"

"oi! it wasn't off! Breathe, baby. It wasn't off. Just...no reception at the venue, and then at the airport. Breathe! I love you, yeah? I'm fine. Look. Look at me, I'm fine. I promise.' He flashed her that boyish smile of his and cut through the haze of spiraling thoughts in her mind. Finally, she looked directly into his eyes on screen, smiling at him.

"Hi! There she is." He giggled.

"So, where are you now? is everyone with you? are you all safe?"

"Airport. Yeah, we're all good. They've just got us in some room while they process some documents or some shit. I don't know. I don't care." She watched him walk over to the other side of the room and take a seat on an uncomfortable leather couch.

"Is everyone else with you as well? Ross okay? the band? Polly and Gabi?"

Matty smiled at her insistent questioning. "We're all here. let's do a head count, shall we?" He hit the "Flip Camera" button so she was no longer seeing him, but had a view of the rest of the room. "Here's George, sleepy as always. John's playin' a game on his phone. Say 'hi' John...over here we have Hann. right next to the trash, where he belongs....Here's Ross. Jamie's here I promise, he's just looking for a toilet. Say 'hello' to Polly, who's on the hunt for granola or some hippie shit." Matty giggled when Polly brushed the hair out of her eyesight to give him a look. "And last but by no means least" He cover the camera lens for a dramatic reveal, "it's Gabi! see? everyone's here and we're all okay. Happy?" He turned the camera back to him, returning to his spot on the couch.

"...for the time being." She couldn't help but break character and laugh when she saw him roll his eyes. "Seriously, though, I'm proud of you.'

"but?"

"there's no but!' She rebutted a bit too eagerly.

"I know you. There's a 'but.' Let me hear it. Go on."

"I had just wondered if....maybe it would've been safer for everyone if you guys just pulled out....you know?"

"Pulled out of the lineup, you mean? like just not done the show?" Matty's demeanor shifted. He straightened his posture, taking a deep breath and running a hand through his hair.

"Yeah, you could've returned the money. Made some kind of....statement about how, after learning of the governments laws, you found it morally repugnant, and refuse to perform there. Safer for you guys, the fans, and less costly."

Matty always respected and valued her opinion, but he was also always honest with her. "I suppose it would- I suppose it would've been but thats not the point." He could feel his bandmates eyes shift towards him. They were all invested in the conversation now. "Because then they'd have just replaced us. Found another artist to perform that slot and our so-called 'stance' wouldn't have done anything. Maybe lasted 5 seconds online, and then everyone would have moved on. The point here wasn't to morally congratulate ourselves or make ourselves feel good. It's about actually doing something. sometimes discomfort is necessary."

She could do nothing but smile, in awe of him. Their relationship meant a lot to both of them, but one of her favorite things about it was that she never had a chance to forget why she fell in love with Matty in the first place. "That's why I'm proud of you." she simply stated.

"well don't be."

"Matty, stop that. I kn-"

"No because I'm not ACTUALLY gay. I'm not ACTUALLY Malaysian. Okay? I get to make out with my mate, make a little speech, and then jet set, off to some other country by the time that everyone's made him home from the show. And- sure, I'll get banned, but my job and my life is entirely unaffected. I'll go on doing what I do, it's no skin off my back. Why be proud of ME? hmmm? there are people, activists, all over the world, who ARE gay, ARE outcasts, ARE fighting for their rights. How about we pay attention to them instead? you know what I mean?"

George got up from his seat to retrieve a water bottle from one of the bags, patting Matty on the shoulder and mumbling "exactly." as he passed by.

"why'd you do it then?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"Well, I'm everyone's favorite villain at the moment. Lots of eyes on me. Figured I'd make it mean something."

"all things considered, you happy?"

She saw a smile flash across his face as he considered her question. "Yeah," he nodded slowly as he made up his mind 'Yeah, I checked online and....seems like fans made it out okay, so...yeah, I'm happy." He looked into her eyes through the camera. "I do miss you, though."

"I miss you, too. Oh, speaking of which! Put Ross on the phone, would you?"

Matty smiled knowingly and handed the phone over to Ross. "You deal with this one. I'm out."

Ross's face lit up, ready for the challenge. 'Hey, mate!"

"Ross, I want you to know; message received. Loud and clear. You make out with MY boyfriend? In front of the whole world? AND you do it for a good cause? I see you, mate. I get it. This ain't over, though. I'll be the better kisser in the end."

[ivesambrose]

𝐽𝑢𝑙𝑦 𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑖 𝑀𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑠

1. 2. 3.

Damn .... July already.

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Gif 1

A month of clearing out everything that's been making you feel cluttered. This could be literal objects, old electronics that no longer work, empty bottles etc, health (taking care of your gut health mostly) people, mindsets, the unecessary ever growing screenshots on your phone, all of that. Clear everything out so something new can come in. The only reason you feel stuck is said clutter.

You'll also find hidden resources out of the blue that will aid you in your endeavours.

You'll see what you've achieved with discipline in your work as well as yoir mindset even if circumstances or what you were witnessing seemed like the opposite. Any conflict you face will also have a quick solution and resolution this in turn will make you sharper and smarter when it comes to dealing with people, yourself and situations ahead.

The desire to travel, learn, be independent and be adventurous will be highlighted this month. You'll feel like you're on your way towards something and even if it's a solo journey you have luck on your side.

Gif 2

A month of ideas, curiousity, awareness and analysis. You might be in your head a lot so please take a moment to simply breathe and/or touch grass in simple terms.

You'll be writing and reading a lot. If you're in sales, marketting, copywriting, content creation, translating, any work that requires interpretation, astrologer, tarot reader etc this is an eventful as well as progressive month for you. You'll be busy!

You might feel like there's an information overload sometimes so be mindful of what you consume. Take breaks from social media especially from time to time.

If you're applying for visa this month things will go smoothly, alternatively you may start making travel and relocation plans as well or get an opportunity as such. If you're planning for higher studies things will go well too. Some of you may also feel more spiritual and connected to your faith this month.

The desire to change your Outlook as well as your appearance and the way you present yourself will also be significant this month. You may not see the changes yourself at first but those around you or those who view you, will. So don't be surprised if you're catching people's attention a lot in July.

Gif 3

A month of surrendering to the divine and going with the flow. Strengthening your subconscious and your spiritual gifts. You'll likely realize that the compassion, forgiveness and understanding you have extended to others for the longest time, you haven't really extended the same to yourself.

You'll be trusting in the unseen a lot this month. Because eventually things will start falling in place. I believe you have been physically and mentally exhausted so you have stopped trying to make things happen and once you do, things start happening for you.

You'll be blessed with good health this month. More vitality, vigor and confidence. Not being afraid or shy to let yourself be seen.

The desire to be a little more of an idealist and even a little more choosy will be high this month. You may also communicate a lot with a sibling or friend and connect with them more. Will likely pick up a hobby of some sorts. Would want to photograph moments and memories more, romantize the simple moments of your life and travel short distances finding your favourite spots.