#n. not tagging their players bc. anxiety

[fairene]

hello!! i LOVE your work you write the most interesting dynamics and your style always completely sucks me in! i saw you mentioned in the tags that requests were welcome and if it sounds fun, i'd love to read something with lando and a tennis player!reader, not just bc i love tennis lol but also bc it could be interesting to have him with someone who has experienced the same level of pressure. i'd love anything you wrote though!❤️

say less, my love.

pressure / ln4

a/n ⋯ a short pause from the one of your girls dual part. this was a beautiful request, and as a huge challengers enthusiast, i had to put it to paper. thank you so much for the request. also i am aware that the u.s. open takes place in new york, but for simplicity sake, we'll say its in miami.

music ⋯ link

warnings ⋯ no smut, fluff, angst, insecure thoughts, anxiety.

wordcount ⋯ 2.6k (unedited).

“you’re going to do amazing, my love.” lando’s words were soothing as he held you firmly against his chest. it was a saturday night in miami, both of you were dueling your own matches for the weekend. you were in the finals of your tournament held for the US open, whereas he was debuting in the miami grand prix the following afternoon. 

your head shifted into his chest, nose burrowing into the fabric of his shirt with a soft hum. you knew he was right, but the pressure waned on you. how could it not? your entire career balanced on your performance, and thousands of people would be watching you. not only were you lando norris’ girlfriend, but also an up and coming star in your own career. 

you kissed the fabric of his shirt, knowing the sentiment held little, but he appreciated the gesture regardless. his hand found the back of your head, threading his fingers through your hair. his touch was gentle, kind, one reserved only for you. it was moment’s like these that the pair of you found solitude in one another. 

“i know, i just…” you hesitated, lifting your head so your chin rested on the center of his torso. he tightened his hand around your hip, cradling you against the firm shape of his body. 

“what, baby?” he said with a soft tone, velvety to your ears. you couldn’t resist him. couldn’t hold anything back from him, despite wanting to spare him the worries you held. the last thing you wanted him to do was worry about you. especially when he had a huge event of his own.

but all he did was worry about you.

day and night he would dream both through the sun and beneath the moonlight of you. you. it was always you that he was concerned about. you, that he searched for atop his podiums. you, that he would attend all your matches when he could.

this was one of the rare events where they overlapped. he would only be there with you in the morning to see you off before your matches. then, you would reconcile with him in the evenings. post race, post tournament. it would be a tough day to manage on your own, but he felt the same way. you were the light to all of his races, the focal point of which he could relax. his anxiety roared in these conditions, but you somehow soothed him at every turn. 

he needed you. but you couldn’t be there. 

“i want you there.” 

his features softened. there was a cloud of guilt brewing a thunderstorm above his head, threatening to rain down tears in your obvious distress. he hated seeing you this way, and most of all, he hated being the one who caused it. 

“i know.” his thumb stroked across your cheek. “i would if i could.” you believe him. he was your number one fan, just as you were his. a match made in heaven, one might be able to jest. “‘nd i want you there, tomorrow, with me on the radio.” 

you blushed, letting your face drop into the fabric of his sweatshirt. you felt his chest bellow with a deep laugh, centered at his core, letting his lids flutter at your bashful expression. your teeth even went as far as biting at his sweatshirt, which had him grumbling and pulling your hair up into a makeshift ponytail, raising your head to meet his eyes. 

“you’ll be the death of me,” he uttered, saying with pure love. your relationship with him was full of complexities, but overall dominated by your fatuous love for one another. the pressures you both face in consequence of your performances…

“you’re going to win tomorrow.” you sat up on his lap, straddling his hips. you were both in your shared bed in the hotel, lounging in your sleepwear in the messed up sheets. tonight was between you two and no one else. lando slammed that ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door the minute the pair of you walked in for the evening. “i can feel it.” 

“you think so?” he gulped, both his hands coming to run up the skin of your thighs. you shivered at his touch, but you were determined to keep a clear mind. 

“i know so.” you watched his face relax with relief. your words of comfort meant ten times than anyone else's, and you would always give him the truth. its what he loved about you so much. your blatant honesty, your charisma, your ability to power through every obstacle in your life. but he knew just as much as you did that you wouldn’t be able to do any of it without each other. it was one of the many little beautiful things about your relationship.

lando’s anxiety would gnaw at him every chance it got. but since he’s entered a relationship with you, he feels like a fucking king, but he was nothing without his queen. 

“don’t know,” he said, breaking the silence. “you’re my lucky charm.”

you rolled your eyes. “you’ve scored points at every race this season,” you pointed out. it was a fact. he was one of the only contending drivers to have such a prosperous season. you were delighted for him. “with or without me there.” 

but he didn’t like your excuses. he squeezed your plush thighs beneath his calloused fingers, which had you gasping. 

“don’t do that.” 

you quirked a brow. “do what?”

“pretend like you don’t mean the world to me.” 

you blushed and fell forward on his chest, your head falling into his neck. you giggled against his skin, unable to contain your smile. “stop that,” you insisted, blushing fiercely. a hand of his came to hold the back of your neck in a comforting grip. 

“loving you?” you caught his gaze, bleary with love. “i don’t think i can.” 

you were up at 5:30 that morning getting ready. lando was still sound asleep, snores being heard from the ensuite bathroom as your brushed your teeth and fixed your appearance. you wore a white tennis dressed, sponsored by fila, and just left when you made your way to the bed.

your hand brushed over lando’s exposed hip, shirtless in the bed with only a pair of boxers. he moaned in his sleep, pulling a pillow closer. but he was wide awake when he realized the pillow was made of feathers, and not you. 

“come on, my love.” you said to him in the dark room, looming over him with your hair undone and bright white dress. he turned to face you, sitting up against the headboard. his hands came to rest over his head, stretching. 

then he leaned in for a kiss, his hand cupping your cheek. you met him half way, sucking on his lower lip. he groaned, and you felt yourself shift, but couldn’t fall into his trap of desire. 

“ah, ah.” you pulled away before his hand came to snatch you down into the bed. “you promised me breakfast.” 

he fell back into the bed with disappointment. you laughed to yourself and made your way to the foyeur. you didn’t have to wait long when you heard him shifting and getting ready for the day ahead. 

when you arrived to the courts that morning, lando was carrying most of your things. it had you smiling with appreciation, insisting that you could carry your wilson tennis bag. but he refused, saying that you worked too hard for this day to be carrying your own bag. let me help you, and you were sold. 

you caught on to how much the crowds began to fill in. you were a sensation. but the notion would consistently fly over your head. 

you were tense and lando could see that. 

“hey,” his hand came to rest on your back. you leaned into him. “you’re going to do great, baby.” 

you sucked in a tight breath. but what if you didn’t? what if, that these set of matches, would damn your career to near ruin? what if you could never be perfect? 

your breathing became erratic. lando’s eyes widened, jumping into swift action as he covered your body with his. he backed you into a corner where no one could see the pair of you, and wrapped his hands around your body tightly. 

“match me.” he said. the words were so familiar to you. the both of you had discovered a coping mechanism when things got too much, too overwhelming, and too over pressured. you’d fall into each other’s arms and hear one another breathe. 

your lip quivered with tears. but you did as you were told. 

with an ear pressed to his chest, you could hear the steady beat of his heart. the strength in his muscles. the blood rippling through his veins. most importantly, the rise and fall of his abdomen against your own. 

with your thummering heart, you found pace with him. “in and out,” he would soothe, saying into the top of your head where he left kisses in his wake. 

he stroked the small of your back, thumb running circles over you. you fell completely into him. 

“what if i’m not good enough?” 

the words broke him. 

“then the world is full of fuckheads, i’ll tell you that.” his tone was firm, but ebbed with softness as he spoke into your scalp. his attempt at humor had you breaking into a soft chuckle. you appreciated him in this moment. “i’d kill all those fuckers, you just tell me who–”

your head broke away with a smile, finger coming to shush him. 

“lando!” 

“what? it’s true.” 

you loved him. 

“maybe so,” you reached up to kiss both of his flushed cheeks. “but i want you here. with me.” 

his forehead connected with yours. 

“you’ll always have me.” he placed his hand over your heart, and you placed yours over his. 

“always?”

“always.” he promised. 

the matches were flawless. you played to your body’s ultimate limit. you were skating across the base line, the volley line, snapping your shoulder with everything you had for your serves. 

“love, all.” the announcer began. 

you were up serving first. 

this was it. 

the final match out of six. whoever won this, won the title. 

you thought about lando. you thought about his breath against your neck. the texture of his stubble. the pride in his eyes. sweat dribbled from your forehead as you let the tennis ball bounce a few times before you to get a feel for the clay courts. 

and with one fluent swing and leap, the ball was set into the air. 

the cockpit was hot. lando was sweating profusely in the miami air. the humidity had changed their course of strategy at mclaren, but he agreed with his engineers wholeheartedly. there had been a safety car, and he abused it. attack it. 

when he was rounding corner after corner, lap after lap, he only thought of you. he thought of you in your pretty tennis dresses. you and your bright smile. you and your comforting touches, kissing him goodnight. it had his racing heart relaxing, fingers flexing against the steering drive. 

you were perfect. his perfect fucking girl. you were all his– his soon to be championship winner. and he wanted to make you a promise that he would win. he would win this for you. 

‘you’re going to win tomorrow,’ you said idly from atop his hips. you looked towards him with such riveting devotion. such intimacy that he never imagined was possible for someone to convey. but with you, anything was possible. 

the two of you were not so different from one another. the pressures you both faced were immaculate. it’s what held you both so heavily bonded to one another. you needed each other’s comfort. the touch of your hands. the sweetness of your lips. he didn’t give a fuck about codependency. fuck who ever came up with that. 

he’s going to fucking win. he will win for you. whatever it takes, he will stand on that podium in the firelli hat, and dedicate it all to you.

the score was 40-40. 

your body shook with adrenaline, muscles pounding beneath your layer of skin. your body pumped with red hot blood, blood of a future champion. this title would be yours. you knew that the minute you walked onto this court with your opponent. 

he was a smug gentleman. too smug. you wanted to wipe that fucking look off of his face. bruise it black and blue if you could. 

though your anger could be taken out on the court. you let it. 

your strokes were harder. faster. your serve pace was up to 140mph. he couldn’t even get to most of them with how your body contorted mid air, slamming it down and leaving an indent into the clay. you were a powerhouse. a machine. a gauntlet of beauty. 

and when you scored the winning point after an intense rally, jumping high into the air for an ace, you rocked back into the balls of your feet. your hips swung, racket thwanging, and you cheered; “come on!” 

your anger for him was palpable. it blinded you enough to forget the crowds. the only thing you had on your mind was winning, and that you did. 

the stadium lit up and you were met with a flushing amount of cheers. you were handed a towel from one of the members of your team before being swarmed with paparazzi.

they all complimented you. congratulated you. asked about certain points, but there was one member that caught your eye. 

“lando’s in the lead!” a cameraman said from the back. your head raised, brows quirking.

“what did you say?” you forced a path for the man to walk forward. he accepted your invitation, holding up his phone screen in one hand.

sure enough, you saw the standings. lando was in first. your boy was in first. 

your eyes widened. “this is live, isn’t it?” you were panting, wiping the sweat from your forehead with the lemon-scented towel. 

the man nodded, holding a microphone to you. 

“how do you feel right now?” you kept watching. lap 55. 

you kept quiet, and the rest of the paparazzi did too.

lap 56.

your hands clasped together, raising them to your mouth. 

“come on, baby…” you said beneath your breath. this was the longest minute of your life, you were sure of it. 

and when he crossed the finish line, he was only thinking about you. 

lando norris, first time grand prix winner, shrieked with joy over the microphone. 

you did, too, jumping up and down from your place on the court. the paparazzi swarmed you again, anticipating what you had to say for the both of you. 

“he’s incredible, isn’t he?” you gushed with a smile on your face, tears dripping down your cheeks. 

“what a day for you two, isn’t it?” 

you couldn’t agree more. “i’ll cheers to that.” 

you practically ran through the paddock. your tennis dress was still on, your team was irritated that you didn’t stay for press. you didn’t give a fuck. you just wanted to see lando. you had the rest of your life to deal with the press, but he only had one maiden win. 

you were greeted with a plethora of congratulations from the mclaren team. zak brown even caught a glance at you, waving you over. 

“podiums just about to start.” perfect. you made it in time. 

and when you saw him there, standing idly as they played the national anthem, you were brought to the front. the camera panned on you and your weeping expression, hand covering your mouth from your sobs. 

he saw it from the distance and his head snapped down to find you. his own emotions couldn’t be contained, not with you there– you, here, looking beautiful in the sea of people– and the tears slid down his cheeks. 

your face broke into a smile when he saw you. he was yours. 

and you were his. and you were in this together. 

forever and always. 

[snapbackslide]

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get to know me

almost trilingual immigrant, still not over the 2021 glory days because i simply never move on ever 🤠

random facts, because why not:

i've interacted with my two favourite hockey players, side hugged nick suzuki, and made brendan gallagher & artturi lehkonen laugh. i already won at life.

haha jk i'm a curse to my faves... they score hat tricks when i'm not watching, get traded/waived/demoted or simply leave, retire before winning a championship, get injured when i have tickets to see them, and oh yeah, my teams lose in the finals, or in some other brutal way! ッ

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been a hockey fan since i moved to canada, but january 2016 is when the obsession started, thanks to brendan gallagher 😝 my first favourites were roberto luongo and carey price (had a thing for goalies lol)

[babblable]

MORE AJAXX DOODLES! Mostly peeps from movies! And also Charlie bc Charlie is Very Good And I Love Him.

[harlowhockeystick]

I Really Can't Stay - Josh Anderson

Y/N and Josh are tired of sneaking around, and during the holidays it’s even harder to keep their relationship a secret; especially at the annual habs christmas party.

contains: alcohol consumption, fem reader, reader anxiety

word count: 1,055

12 fics of christmas

tagging: @thecoldwind @puckbunnyforsway @drei-mrssvechii @snidneycrabby @multistann @theweightofstardust

⎯⎯⎯ also psa, i write things in a covid free world. so every fic i have it's for a world with no virus, bc i like to play pretend :) just wanted to clarify that!

You felt like everyone’s eyes on you. Like everyone knew this secret that you had with Josh. as you stood there in your holiday party dress, an emerald green color with some gold accents along the sleeves, sipping on champagne you felt like holes were being burned through you. Your stomach was in knots, you felt like the champagne you were consuming was going to come up any minute.

All because of Josh.

But he was in the same boat you were. He wants nothing more than to stride across the room and kiss you deeply. Then everyone will finally know that he’s dating the hottest girl in the world, and maybe then some of the rookies will keep their eyes off you, knowing that you’re dating him.

But for now, those are dreams. Dreams that might one day come true, if both of you have enough courage to show one another off. But it’s frowned upon, apparently. A player dating a member of the staff, some people would have a field day. Even though you had not heard of a player and a staff member getting together, you can still imagine the backlash both of you would receive. Oh, and the paperwork you would have to fill out.

For the past two and a half months, you’ve been able to keep things civil between you and josh. While you sit on the bench in practice, waiting in case someone needs medical attention or if they need a finger or two taped up, you would steal a couple of glances here and there with josh. Turn your head and catch him staring at you, or you would catch yourself staring at him for a little longer than you should have.

When he would stay late after weights or practice and go to the training room so you could use the muscle gun, when actually he just wanted to see you and talk to you without someone else present. Eventually he found the courage to ask you on a date, in that very training room.

Ever since then it’s been secret kisses in private, a couple of extra glances on ice and in weight rooms, and if he was feeling brave enough he would brush his hand past yours when he sat on the bench in front of you.

So now here you both are, nearly three months deep into a relationship with Josh, and you’re standing fifty feet away from each other in the Price’s home. You’re making small talk with some other people there that you know, introducing yourself and being friendly. All the while Josh is counting down the hours until he gets to have you in his arms all night.

Somehow, someway, you get pulled into a conversation with Carey and his wife, along with Brendan and Shea along with his wife as well. You get lost in the conversation when Josh comes up to stand next to you- you feel lightheaded. The glass of champagne in your hand suddenly feels like it weighs fifty pounds and the heels you have on feel like they’re going to break at any second.

Which is when Carey and his wife get heckled into doing karaoke, making you feel ten times better. Now you feel like not everyone and their aunt is staring at you. Josh takes this opportunity to step closer to you and towards the back of the crowd in the Price home.

“You wanna go after them?” Josh jokes, noticing your anxiety he takes the glass out of your hand and sets it down on the counter behind him. You look up at him with wide eyes and he chuckles quietly, his cheeks a little red.

“Are you crazy?” you counter, your tone serious compared to his comedic one.

“Oh come on, I've heard you sing in the shower before. You, my lady, could win a grammy or two.” he whispered, leaning down so you could hear him better. Somehow his jokes made you feel better. That, or the fact that he was talking to you. “No but seriously, when are we gonna do something like that? In front of our friends?”

You sighed. You had the same question. You wanted to know when you would be able to hold hands in front of your friends, maybe even go as far as kiss each other on the cheek in front of people. Join some of the couples on their group dates and post about each other.

“‘Cause i don’t know how much longer i can take caulfield staring at your cleavage. If he’s not careful, he’s gonna be the one in your training room and not me.” you laugh and step closer to him, your arm now touching his. Even though it’s not much, it feels enough right now, at this moment.

The party goes on and now it’s nearing ten thirty. People are filing out and going home. You don’t know why you’re still here, honestly. “Good thing we don’t have to be at work tomorrow, I'm gonna have a slight headache in the morning.” you joked, pulling out your phone to order an uber.

“You don’t have to do that- here I'll drive you home.” Brendan offered when he noticed that you were ordering an uber. You were about to protest when Josh injected himself into the conversation, wanting the last thing for Brendan to do was to take you home.

“Actually I think I live closer to Y/N, isn’t that right?” Josh said, standing up and taking his keys out of his pocket. You took a sigh of relief quietly. You nodded your head in response and grabbed your purse, saying goodbye to everyone and exiting the home with josh.

The minute you got in his car he turned to give you a kiss, something he had been dying to do all evening long. You pulled away, not wanting to smother his lips in your lipgloss. He tried to reach in for another one but you stopped him, putting your hand on his mouth.

“Wait until I take my makeup off, then we can makeout.” josh giggled and turned the car on, backing out of the driveway and heading towards his place, where he could in fact, hold you and kiss you for as long as he wanted.

.・。♡.・゜✭・.・✫・゜✭・。. ♡・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜♡・。.✫

- thank you for reading! as always feedback and comments are welcome.

xo, j

[nugnthopkns]

i wish i could disappear

word count: 3.6k

warnings: explicit!fem reader, cursing, feelings of anxiety due to social media harassment, invasion of privacy that border on stalking

recommended listening: brutal | olivia rodrigo

series masterpost: here

a/n: and we're off to the races!! i love this album and olivia so much. there's a shoutout to goon by tobias jesso jr. in here bc it's my favourite album to cry to lmao (highly recommend giving it a listen!). i'm on the fence about this one but am posting it anyways because i don't think i can make it any better

How the fuck do people find your social media?

All of your accounts are private and Kevin makes sure to never tag you on the rare occasion he posts a picture of the two of you together. The wives and girlfriends who have public accounts make sure to never post about you, and you’re careful not to comment on posts often. You’re a private person and though you understand that due to the nature of your relationship with Kevin you intrigue some fans, you don’t want to give them more than you have to.

Despite making no attempt to open up to the public or media, every day you wake up with hundreds of follow requests from complete strangers. At first it was a little exciting knowing that people were curious about your life but after years of the same routine it’s become draining. It takes you nearly twenty minutes each day to weed through them and accept only the people you know personally. Kevin doesn’t actually know how many people want to catch a glimpse of your daily life because you do your best to keep it from him. Knowing would only bring him stress, and you want him to be able to focus on winning games and loving you with his entire heart.

☼☼☼☼

The phone on your desk rings loudly, pulling your attention away from the computer screen that has way too many numbers on it for your liking. The finance department needed someone to proof their audit before sending it away and since you’re the only one in human relations that has a business degree the job landed on your shoulders. Eager to take a break, you pick it up and press the receiver against your ear.

“Hello?”

The voice on the other side laughs gently, but you immediately know it’s Kevin. “Hi sweetheart,” he says warmly, “How’s work?”

“Fine I guess. It’s work, Kev. Nothing terribly exciting happens here,” you explain but continue to fill him in on all the coffee pot gossip you got this morning. Kevin listens as you complain about forgetting your lunch on the counter and chuckles at how upset the situation makes you.

“What if I told you I’m outside your window with a burrito bowl?”

Excited at the possibility of seeing your boyfriend before dinnertime, you whip towards the window and spot Kevin on the sidewalk, waving like an idiot despite knowing your office is on the fifth floor. You hang up quickly after telling him you’ll be down in two minutes and let the receptionist know you’re stepping out for lunch. There’s a line for the elevator so you head to the stairwell, taking them two at a time in your haste. You’re crossing the street to the small park where Kevin has set up a picnic before your co-workers are even out the door.

You plop down on the blanket beside Kevin and lean into him. He presses a sweet kiss to your forehead before passing you the food he brought. You take a bite, sighing at the taste. Kevin knows you better than you know yourself and knew exactly what to get that would satisfy your mounting hunger.

“Thanks babe,” you smile, holding up your fork and offering him a bite. He takes it graciously but makes a face. “What’s the matter?” you laugh as you take the utensil back.

“I fucking hate avocado.”

The two of you eat in relative silence, speaking only when you remember a detail from your morning. Kevin tells you about the drills he’s going to lead at practice in the afternoon and what he plans on cooking for dinner since he’ll be home before you. You insist you can whip something up when you get home but Kevin shakes his head. He reminds you that relationships are give and take, and that you’ve made dinner the past three nights because he had a string of games. You manage to reach a compromise that has you doing the dishes before you have to return to work.

Kevin insists on walking you back to your office even though you protest vehemently. Your relationship is far from secret, and has been the topic of workplace gossip more times than you can count, but after five years you’ve learned to ignore most of it. However, you don’t want your co-workers to think you flaunt your NHL player boyfriend to prove you’re better than them. They all love Kevin, and a couple of them congratulate him on last night’s goal as he follows you down the hall. A few of the newer hires stare in awe and shake his hand, completely blown away that one of Philadelphia’s biggest stars is asking how they like their jobs.

“Pretty soon they’re going to approach you to do PR for us,” you chuckle as you flip the light on and close the door of your office.

His laughter echoes off the walls as a pair of strong arms find a home around your waist. “It would be kind of fun to hear myself crush those radio commercials.”

“Since when do you listen to the radio?”

“Checkmate,” Kevin sighs, pulling you closer. He kisses you quickly, not wanting to give a show to anyone who could be walking past, but it still sends you reeling. You don’t want him to pull away and kiss him again.

You get your way for a few more moments and then Kevin’s leaving with a promise to not burn the house down and wishes for a good rest of the day. Focussed on giving the audit its final once-over you don’t bother pulling your phone from the drawer you had placed it in when you got to work that morning. You turn up the small radio at the corner of your desk and get to work scanning the document for errors. There’s a mistake halfway through that skews the rest of the data and fixing it takes a bit of time, but it isn’t a huge deal. You have nothing else to do except answer a few emails and organize meetings for after the weekend.

An hour or so later you’ve completed all your tasks and debate what to do. It’s too early to leave for the day, so you decide to kill time by checking your phone. You’re expecting a few notifications, perhaps two or three memes in the group chat you share with your friends, but not the hundreds that greet you.

The majority of them are instagram notifications, and assuming they’re just more fans requesting a follow you ignore them, instead heading to your text messages. There’s a picture from Kevin of a dog he found walking home and another from your mom asking why you haven’t called home in a few weeks. However the one from Claude’s wife is the one that piques your curiosity.

Just a heads up that someone posted a pic of you and Kev to one of those stupid wag pages. I filed a request for Instagram to take it down but it’s gotten a lot of traction. Sorry :((

Your heartbeat increases rapidly and a million thoughts fly through your head at a rapid speed. Fingers shaking, you respond with a thanks and open up the dreaded app. You don’t see it immediately, your feed being full of photos belonging to friends and family, but it’s in your messages almost two hundred times. Many of them have text attached and you know there will be a comment about your relationship regardless of which one you open.

Tapping on the most recent message you brace yourself for the worst. The new window opens a photo someone took of you and Kevin while eating lunch in the park across from your office not even three hours prior. It’s grainy and the camera angle is strange, but you’re eating and Kevin is looking somewhere out of frame. The accompanying caption reads Kev and his girlfriend out for lunch today! Follow @philllywagupdates for more :).

You let out a sigh of relief – it could have been a lot worse. Personal pictures of yourself have made it onto pages like that before and most of them they’re paired with mean-spirited captions about your appearance or other trivial matters. Assuming you’re in the clear, you head back to the page of the original message to thank the person for bringing the post to your attention. However, the message accompanying the post is anything but positive.

He can’t even fucking look at you. It’s only a matter of time before he leaves you

The blood in your veins runs cold. You know it’s not true – Kevin’s made it clear you’re the one and truthfully you’re just waiting for a ring – but it doesn’t stop the sting you feel. What could possess someone to say such horrible things? You decide not to respond despite, possibly opening another can of worms with the seen function, and close the app. Leaning back in your office chair you focus on anything but your phone, looking out the window at passersby while regaining your breath. It works for a while, but eventually not knowing what others said eats away at you. You go through every single message to see hundreds of similar comments to the first, with only a few saying they’re glad you’re happy or how posting the picture is a violation of your privacy.

By the time you’re finished your spirit has been crushed. However, it’s also an acceptable time to start the weekend – at least no one in the office will have to see you cry. Things are hastily packed into your bag and you wave a few quick goodbyes before once again taking the stairs. You curse yourself for deciding to walk to work that morning and set off in the direction of home wiping away tears. The last thing you need right now is for someone to recognize you, but you have to get home. Tobias Jesso Jr plays at much too loud a volume through your headphones and Kevin will most certainly remind you it’s bad for your hearing, but the melancholy piano riffs of Goon overpower the thoughts swirling around your head.

Do people really feel that way about me?

Are my friends just too nice to stop inviting me places?

Does Kevin really feel trapped?

Hundreds of similar sentiments and situations cross your mind as you stumble through the streets of downtown Philadelphia, but you force them as far back as possible before opening the door to the apartment you share with Kevin. Hoping to slip inside undetected, you take your shoes off slowly and throw your jacket on the end table instead of hanging it in the closet. Your plan fails somehow and Kevin hears you, greeting you in a goofy apron covered in flour.

“Hey sweetheart,” he smiles, but it drops once your eyes meet and he sees the hurt on your face. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s nothing,” you insist, trying to step around him in pursuit of the bathroom.

Kevin doesn’t buy it and sees right through your feeble words. “It’s not nothing if you’re this upset. If you don’t want to talk now that’s fine, but I think you should get it off your chest.”

You know he’s right, but you also know you can’t tell him the true cause of your despair. “Just some work stuff,” you sigh. “The audit got all fucked up and I had to fix it even though it’s not my job.”

It’s not technically a lie, which makes you feel better, and Kevin buys it. He presses a sweet kiss to your lips in sympathy. “Go take a shower and the gnocchi should be ready by the time you’re done. We can spend the night cuddling on the couch.”

“And watching Selling Sunset?”

“We can watch whatever you want sweetheart,” he chuckles. You part from him with a final kiss and head to the bathroom. Hopefully the steam from the water will carry away the negativity brought on by that damn post.

☼☼☼☼

Time passes but the hateful comments on social media don’t stop. In fact, you’re pretty sure they get worse. It’s so bad that you’ve deleted every app except facebook because you need it for work. Kevin doesn’t notice your abstinence from social media, but he picks up on how you spend more time criticizing yourself or staring off into space. When he pushes you either brush him off or feed some bullshit excuse about how work is getting you down. You know he doesn’t believe you but trusts you enough to come to him when you’re ready to talk.

You aren’t sure if you’ll ever be able to tell Kevin what’s been going on. There’s been scrutiny from social media before, when you first started dating, but it quieted down after the initial media frenzy. He helped you through that but it’s different this time around. Never before have you had strangers tell you your life is worthless or that your boyfriend should end your relationship. Some of the other wags notice your absence on instagram but chalk it up to you just taking a break. They reach out via the group chat and send wishes to see you at the next home game. It’s nice to know they care, but the voice in your head that has grown much larger in recent weeks tells you they don’t truly mean it. This leads you to decline the invite as politely as possible, citing extended work hours for your absence. In reality you’re too anxious to be anywhere that isn’t home or work, petrified someone is going to post something that will add fuel to the flames of those who interrogate you.

It’s another Friday afternoon, and you’re leaving the office early once again. There’s a small craft exhibition taking place around the corner from work and today is the last day it’s open. You had been meaning to go all week, hoping to find something small to add to Kevin’s birthday gift. As you step out of the building there’s a small group of young women, who don’t look old enough to have graduated college, standing off to the side. It fills you with dread, worried that somehow someone found out where you work and the insults are going to start occurring verbally, but you force yourself to be rational. You work fairly close to one of the artsier districts in the city and it’s more than likely they just want to find a cute mural to take pictures in front of.

You pass by and swear you hear them snicker, but you remind yourself you’ve just been jumpy lately. When they peel from their place on the wall and follow behind at a distance you think the coincidences are running out. It seems a little too strange how their movements line up with yours, and you go down a few winding side streets in an attempt to lose them. Part of you feels ridiculous because what group of barely legal girls would track a full-blown adult around a city of nearly two million people, but your life is currently strange enough you can’t be sure. They don’t follow you, and by the time you reach the market your heart rate has returned to normal.

The first few stalls have little to catch your eye, but a few rows in you find a leatherworker who makes adorable wallets. Kevin’s is ridiculously old and falling apart at the seams – his mom bought it for him before the two of you got together. You think a new one will make a perfect addition to the concert tickets you already bought and browse the table for something simple and elegant. A deep brown one with tan braiding around the edges catches your eye and you know it’s the one for Kevin. Checking the price to make sure you have enough cash in your wallet, you approach the shop owner to purchase. The older man has a kind smile that reaches his eyes as he thanks you for purchasing from him.

“No, thank you for making something so beautiful!” you gush. “My boyfriend is going to love it.”

It’s then you hear it – snickering accompanied by the click of a camera. You look over your shoulder to see the same group of girls from before laughing as they huddle over a cell phone, no doubt already starting to broadcast the photo across the internet. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes but you refuse to let them fall. Those girls don’t deserve to see their mission accomplished, but the longer they laugh at you the harder it is to swallow your feelings.

Head held high, you thank the owner one more time before holding your head high and walking past the group. The only way out is past them so you hold your breath and pray they don’t notice you. Unfortunately you aren’t that lucky, and one of them looks up just as you come into earshot.

“If Kevin doesn’t leave you after that sorry excuse for a gift I don’t know what’s wrong with him,” she sneers.

Another one chimes in, “You’re honestly so pathetic.” They all cackle in amusement, and you speed up. The tears flow freely now, and you call an uber even though it will be a ridiculous amount of money. You just want to get home.

The uber driver doesn’t say anything when you get in, though you know it’s strange to be bawling your eyes out at four in the afternoon. You can’t help it – weeks of keeping all the hate to yourself finally got to you and being followed with the sole intent of ridicule is the final straw. At one red light he silently passes you a box of tissues, which you accept gratefully.

Luckily the lobby of your apartment complex is empty and you manage to get to your floor without encountering a familiar face. There’s a few hours until Kevin gets home from his final roadtrip of the season, and if you play your cards right you can get all the tears out and be as normal as possible before he comes through the door. You don’t even bother to put anything away, just head straight to the bathroom to slump against the tub. Sobs rack your body and you lose all sense of time. All you can feel is the hurt you’ve been holding in releasing itself and soaking the material of your blouse.

Kevin finds you laying in the position hours later. He tripped over your shoes coming in the door and immediately knew something was wrong – you always place them neatly on the rack in the closet upon arriving home. Peering through the quiet house for a hint at where you are, he sees the bathroom light on and makes a beeline for the room. It breaks his heart to see you like this, and even more so because he doesn’t know what spurred it on.

“Sweetheart, hey,” he coos, maneuvering his body to sit beside you and pull you into his lap. “What’s the matter?”

You bury your head in his shoulder and clutch the material of his dress shirt as you cry harder at the sound of his voice. Kevin takes your reaction in stride, rubbing circles on your back and working on evening out your breath. He doesn’t pressure you to speak and provides the stability you desperately crave as the world around you spins. An unknown amount of time passes before your tears run out, but spend it all on the bathroom floor curled into Kevin.

“I guess I should have told you sooner,” you mumble, “But I didn’t want to bother you.”

Concern laces Kevin’s features and his eyebrows knit together. “Tell me what?”

“I, uh, have been the subject of some internet hate for the past little bit,” you say sheepishly. It feels stupid to not have told him now, but you can’t change that. “But you were really busy with the season and I wanted to make sure your head was completely focused on the game so I just dealt with it myself. I deleted the apps and tried my best to go about my life. And then today after work I was followed by some people and they said some really hurtful stuff and shit became a little too real.”

“I’m so fucking sorry.”

It’s your turn to be confused. “Why are you sorry Kev? You're Not the one sending me death threats.”

He tucks a loose strand of hair back into your ponytail. “Maybe not, but I still made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about what was going on. What kind of partner am I?”

“The best one,” you say confidently. “It’s okay, I’m okay. I just want to forget about it right now. Can we just disappear for a little bit?”

Kevin wraps his arms around you tighter, as if he can engulf you to protect from the cruel outside world. “We can do whatever you want. If you want to get out of the city for a bit if you want, or just spend the next few days here away from prying eyes.”

“I love you.”

You say it because you mean it, and if you could scream it from the rooftops you would. Kevin is incredibly easy to love, even when you make it difficult for him to love you back. You know another much longer conversation is coming about everything that has happened recently because communication is the only way to solve problems and Kevin deserves that, but you’re thankful he’s willing to put it to rest for a few more moments.

He cracks a smile for the first time since he’s been home and kisses the crown of your head. “I love you too sweetheart,” he whispers, “Always and forever.”

Things are far from over and though you still never want to show your face in public ever again, you know that Kevin is going to do whatever he can to make things better and that’s enough for you.

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @ricohenrique @tortito @boqvistsbabe @iwantahockeyhimbo @himbos-on-ice @2manytabsopen if you want to be added just shoot me an ask :)

[mrskurono]

a/n: Alright so I have baby feels (bc I’m ovulating, fucking hormones) and like all the kids I ever see are people giving the characters girls. Which, yeah its cute, but you know I want some hq headcanons with boys! So here we are me feeding myself content like a heathen :) tags: timeskip spoilers, fluff, parent!HQ characters, nothing that invovled its just kids headcanons, fem!reader involved  character(s): Kageyama Tobio (hq), Hanamaki Takahiro (hq), Kindaichi Yuutarou (hq), Suna Rintarou (hq)

Kageyama Tobio + Two Boys

;| You know what’s funny, these boys were both 100% planned but Kageyama is that idiot that forgets each time you end up pregnant

;| “It’s positive???”  “Love, you literally circled the ovulation day on the calendar so you could tell Fukuro you’d be late.”  “Oh....That’s right.”

;| They both look like Mini Tobios™

;| He’s exceptionally proud of that in fact, dresses them up in volleyball gear constantly and makes sure each kid has a volleyball

;| Closer in age than he and his sister were. The oldest is about three when the other is born

;| They’re exceptionally close simply by the fact you both do everything with them if Kageyama is working

;| But conversely when he’s not training or working this man has his kids with him everywhere

;| Schweiden group actually loves these two (and you) Romeo adores kids as does Fukuro. Toshiro and Tatsuto are like the best weird uncles they could have. Kourai is just a larger child. And Ushijima keeps crayons in his work locker for the kids (and draws with them)

;| Work takes up a lot of time but in honor of his grandfather Kageyama stresses the importance of family a lot

;| Be default his kids really get along and love each other as well as kinda being momma boys

;| But Kageyama is whipped for you anyways so it would make sense both his sons listen to mom without hesitation 

;| Often mistaken for twins even though ones older

;| Avid volleyball players as they grow up but Kageyama never pressures them to be as competitive as he was, constantly reminded of how bitter it was during middle school and high school to be alone, so Kageyama prioritizes fun before anything else

;| The oldest might follow in their father’s footsteps but both of them always keep interests in other faucets of life that Kageyama appreciates because he wants to see his kids happy how they want to be happy and not just because he’s a volleyball player

Hanamaki Takahiro + Three Boys

;| “Lets have another one.”  “Well, what’s one more.” 

;| Basically that’s how you end up with three kids

;| Makki adores kids and honestly he’s never had an issue with them and they listen to him really well (maybe it’s the deadpan stare)

;| One boy leads to another, then two lead to three, no you were never “trying” for a girl and honestly Makki is over the moon with three boys. Having had just sisters, he thinks it’s terrific

;| They’re close in age, like, 2, almost 4 and maybe 6, you guys wasted no time and really it paid off

;| All three of them are tight knit and at some point you had to worry if they were ever gonna make friends outside themselves (don’t worry they did)

;| While you might not have ended up with three mini Makki’s, they all three have “the stare” that sometimes you get all four of them sitting together and looking at you it feels like a judgement 

;| Really they’re just looking at you but it’s hard when they look so unenthused and judgey

;| Makki is super involved (whether he’s working or a stay at home parent is up to you) Regardless he puts other dad’s to shame 

;| This man adores each of them in their own way and never pushes the volleyball narrative on them

;| One or two of them might but none of them really make something of it. All of them though are incredibly smart and end up being Seijoh kids

;| Uncle Mattsun is their favorite because he has gross stories to tell but Uncle Iwa is a close second because apparently it’s genetic all three boys wanna beat him in something

;| Makki’s pissed because Iwa lets all three of them out do him in whatever sport it is they like

;| Makki is still trying to arm wrestle Iwa

;| All four of you men are incredibly soft and down to earth, Makki still makes time for you even with three kids and somehow makes you feel like the sexiest person alive

;| But no, a fourth kid is 200% off the table

Kindaichi Yuutarou + Two Boys

;| After Kindaichi gets through with his apprenticeship and is working, suddenly he’s found himself as a nervous first time parent

;| Not that it wasn’t planned, you both just stopped trying to prevent it

;| The first one was hard, neither of you will lie but Kindaichi’s dedication to mastering this baby stuff really sold you on another one when he asked if you son should have a sibling

;| A little bit more of an age gap, think four when the second is born, but honestly your first is as touchy and sensitive as their father so being a big brother comes naturally

;| Out of all three of them, Kindaichi’s kids end up the perfect blend of you both. Except the hair, both boys have widows peak and dark hair there was no avoiding it I’m sorry

;| Somehow having the second one was easier. Kindaichi kept them strapped to his chest or packed them around while big brother helped and suddenly you were way more free than the first time around

;| Both boys are incredibly smart and very personable 

;| You joke that at least they didn’t inherit their father’s anxiety

;| Kindaichi finds this less funny

;| Both boys though are avid learners, great at making friends and enjoy volleyball

;| Yeah they end up Seijoh kids again and they’re like class 6 and up, they’re smart its scary

;| Thankfully as adults Kindaichi’s been able to reconnect with or stay connected with everyone so the boys have a huge support net

;| Uncle Kunimi swears up and down he doesn’t like kids, but somehow knows these boys so well that their birthday and Christmas presents are amazingly thoughtful. 

;| The oldest actually ends up playing more professional volleyball while the other one either dips into another sport or works in the healthcare field 

;| They’re both huge momma’s boy’s though and do not be surprised that they still ask for your advice and approval no matter how old they get

Suna Rintarou + One Boy

;| This little shit looks exactly like their father

;| Middle part, black hair, unenthused look, what the hell was the point of carrying him for ten months for him to look exactly like Suna

;| Who obviously thinks its the best thing on earth and gloats about his Mini Me more than he will admit

;| Suna excels in the weirdest parenting aspects

;| Physical touch and comfort? Amazing, can get his son to stop crying instantly. Remembering to do things like point at colors and say the names? Kinda forgets that

;| Another one who packs his kid around but opts for a carrier so his hands are free

;| Does workout with his kid attached to him, Suna ends up being an avid walker/hiker afterwards because it was low impact for you after childbirth and your kid loves the outside

;| Will never allow the twins within twenty feet of his offspring

;| Komori and Washio though? Oh yeah no shows his kid off constantly to those too

;| Gets asked when you’re gonna have another one by the way Suna is so over the moon with the first one

;| Inherits the knack for volleyball like their father has and Suna won’t lie he kinda enjoys it

;| Sets up a net outside and the both of them play a lot

;| Though he won’t admit it, Suna really appreciates Kita’s and Aran’s interest in his kid and feels a little proud when his old senpais tell him what an amazing kid he has

;| Suna always deflects it and says it’s only because it’s your kid

;| Deep down though he’s screaming because seeing his kid toss a ball to another Japanese Olyimic player melts his heart to no end

;| Maybe one more....maybe

[fatesentangled]

hello  ,  and  welcome  to  my  multimuse  blog  !  i’m  kay  ,  i’m  24  years  old  ,  &&.  i  live  in  the  gmt-7  tz  !  i’m  a  community  college  graduate  w/  an  associate’s  degree  in  english  ,  i  love  disney  crossover  edits  /  amvs  ,  &&.  i’m  currently  single  as  a  pringle  .  ^w^ previous  urls  are  scmewhereibelcng  ,  melodichearts  ,  &&.  heartsfought  . revamped  blog  established  :  february  20th  ,  2022  . quick  psa  about  future  activity  :  i  am  starting  online  university  may  2nd  ,  so  activity  on  this  blog  will  slow  significantly  .  courses  are  8  weeks  long  ,  so  i  need  to  be  diligent  about  studying  and  getting  my  work  done  on  time  .

personal  /  non-rp  blogs  ,  do  not  interact  with  this  blog  in  any  way  .  i  will  block  you  with  no  hesitation  .

interest  checker  .

inbox  ;  005/015  . completed  drafts  ;  000  . inbox  status  ;  open  .

rules  +  muses  under  the  cut  !

unfollowing  ,  blocking  ,  &&.  follow-backs  ;

please  ,  please  ,  please  softblock  my  blog  before  you  deactivate  yours  !!  if  you  don’t  ,  tumblr  acts  like  i’m  still  following  you  and  will  royally  fuck  up  my  following-follower  count  ratio  ,  which  honestly  irritates  me  so  badly  .  softblocking  is  blocking  somebody  and  then  unblocking  them  so  that  you  break  mutuals  . please  also  keep  in  mind  that  i  do  not  follow  hub  blogs  /  sideblogs  ,  as  they  also  mess  up  my  following  count  .  if  you  wish  to  interact  with  me  without  following  me  ,  you  can  send  in  unprompted  asks  ,  but  memes  and  starter  calls  will  be  for  mutuals  only  (  unless  the  sideblog  is  attached  to  your  main  rp  blog  )  . please  only  follow  me  if  you’re  truly  interested  in  rping  with  me  !  this  is  a  relatively  new  rule  ,  but  a  lot  of  times  ,  some  people  follow  just  to  up  their  follower  numbers  and  don’t  end  up  reaching  out  to  interact  ,  and  to  me  ,  that  just  seems  a  bit  selfish  .  as  stated  before  ,  if  you’re  not  familiar  with  a  muse  ,  don’t  hesitate  to  ask  about  them  .  i  will  do  my  best  to  describe  their  personality  if  you’ve  never  seen  the  movie  /  tv  show  that  they’re  from  .

in-depth  unfollowing  &&.  softblocking  rules  ;

the  quickest  way  to  get  me  to  unfollow  /  softblock  you  is  if  :

you’re  rude  about  threads  not  being  answered  on  your  time

you  constantly  complain  about  not  receiving  any  attention  ,  but  don’t  make  an effort  to  reach  out  to  people  /  respond  to  threads  &&.  asks

you  harass  /  bash  other  players  about  their  characterizations  ,  thread  content  (  i  understand  if  it’s  not  tagged  ,  but  even  then  ,  speaking  privately  and  asking  is  better  than  vagueing  about  it  )  ,  or  rping  the  same  muse(s)  as  you  (  i  do  get  duplicate  anxiety  is  a  real  thing  in  the  rpc  ,  but  it’s  not  an  excuse  to  be  rude  to  those  who  rp  the  same  muses  as  you  do  )

you  post  excessive  ooc  stuff  despite  being  labeled  a  rp  blog

in-depth  hardblocking  rules  ;

the  quickest  way  to  get  me  to  hardblock  /  perma-block  you  is  if  :

you  roleplay  or  support  /  excuse  incest  ,  pedophilia  ,  necrophilia  ,  or  beastiality

you  are  pro-tr.ump  ,  excessively  conser.vative  ,  or  excuse  your  bigoted  behavior  /  views  by  using  rel.igion  /  pol.itics

you  are  trans.phobic  ,  homo.phobic  ,  ra.cist  ,  sex.ist  , able.ist  …  basically  ,  if your  behavior  can  be  summed  up  with  an  ‘ism’  or  ‘phobia’  attached  to  it  ,  expect  your  ass  to  be  blocked  immediately  and  to  stay  blocked  bc  i  don’t  want  anything  to  do  with  you  or  your  disgusting  views  and  behavior

you  reblog  callouts  without  proof  attached  /  badmouth  other  rpers  without  providing  evidence  of  their  behavior

muses  &&.  their  sexualities  ;

amelia  ;  pansexual  biromantic  .

current  ships  ;  n/a  .

jim  ;  bisexual  demiromantic  .

current  ships  ;  jim/melody  ,  jim/akima  (  w/  burglarlotus  )  ,  jim/mirabel  (  w/  miraclestitch  )  .

sarah  ;  bisexual  biromantic  .

current  ships  ;  n/a  .

ariel  ;  pansexual  panromantic  .

current  ships  ;  n/a  .

melody  ;  bisexual  demiromantic  .

current  ships  ;  n/a  .

eric  ;  bisexual  panromantic  .

current  ships  ;  n/a  .

aladdin  ;  bisexual  panromantic  .

current  ships  ;  n/a  .

belle  ;  pansexual  panromantic  .

current  ships  ;  n/a  .

rapunzel  ;  asexual  biromantic  .

current  ships  ;  n/a  .

anna  ;  bisexual  panromantic  .

current  ships  ;  n/a  .

hiro  ;  asexual  biromantic  .

current  ships  ;  hiro/penny  (  w/  pompedia  )  .

tadashi  ;  pansexual  panromantic  .

current  ships  ;  n/a  .

cass  ;  asexual  aromantic  .

current  ships  ;  n/a  .

gogo  ;  asexual  biromantic  .

current  ships  ;  n/a  .

mirabel  ;  bisexual  demiromantic  .

current  ships  ;  n/a  .

julieta  ;  demisexual  heteroromantic  .

current  ships  ;  n/a  .

pepa  ;  bisexual  panromantic  .

current  ships  ;  n/a  .

ming  ;  heterosexual  heteroromantic  .

current  ships  ;  n/a  .

miriam  ;  bisexual  panromantic  .

current  ships  ;  n/a  .

dimitri  ;  bisexual  biromantic  .

current  ships  ;  dimitri/anya  (  w/  pompedia  )  ,  dimitri/jim  (  w/  chartedstars  )  ,  dimitri/erika  (  w/  erikapauperr  )  .

anya  ;  bisexual  biromantic  .

current  ships  ;  n/a  .

akima  ;  bisexual  panromantic  .

current  ships  ;  n/a  .

cale  ;  bisexual panromantic  .

current  ships  ;  cale/jim  ,  cale/akima  (  w/  burglarlotus  )  .

korso  ;  bisexual  biromantic  .

current  ships  ;  n/a  .

sinbad  ;  pansexual  panromantic  .

current  ships  ; sinbad/cinderella  ,  sinbad/chel  (  w/  burglarlotus  )  ,  sinbad/anya  (  w/  pompedia  )  .

marina  ;  bisexual  biromantic  .

current  ships  ;  marina/anya  (  w/  pompedia  )  .

sam  ;  demisexual  demiromantic  .

current  ships  ;  n/a  .

alex  ;  bisexual  panromantic  .

current  ships  ;  n/a  .

chloe  ;  bisexual  homoromantic  .

current  ships  ;  n/a  .

sean  ;  bisexual  biromantic  .

current  ships  ;  n/a  .

overall  views  on  shipping  ;

i  will  absolutely  NOT  tolerate  people  pushing  their  personal  ships  onto  me  .  just  because  you  ship  ,  say  ,  jim/ariel  ,  it  doesn’t  mean  that  my  jim  or  ariel  will  jump  on  board  with  it  if  you  rp  it  (  not  to  mention  that  i  see  that  pairing  EVERYWHERE  in  the  disney  crossover  community  ,  and  it  gets  a  bit  tiring  )  . i  do  have  a  select  few  ships  that  i  like  with  my  muses  ,  and  some  will  probably  make  others  uncomfortable  ,  so  i  will  always  ,  always  try  and  tag  the  ship  name  if  i  do  a  thread  that  revolves  around  that  ship  .

aus  ;

i  love  aus  !  throw  any  universe  at  me  ,  and  we’ll  plot  out  everything  ,  down  to  the  nitty  gritty  . there  are  a  very  select  few  movies  ,  shows  ,  books  ,  &&.  games  that  i  am  familiar  with  .  even  then  ,  i’m  open  to  exploring  other  aus  !!  please  just  be  sure  to  tell  me  about  what  fandom  you’re  interested  in  creating  an  au  for  with  our muses  .

nsfw  &&.  triggering  topics  ;

i  refuse  to  do  smut  .  absolutely  refuse  to  .  i  am  highly  uncomfortable  with  it  . other  nsfw  topics  -  blood  ,  gore  ,  violence  ,  torture  ,  etc.  -  i  am  100%  okay  with  .  in  fact  ,  i  love  writing  that  type  of  stuff  .  the  angstier  ,  the  better  . i  will  be  tagging  triggers  with  ‘tw’  (  e.g.  ‘blood  tw’  )  .

memes  ;

i  LOVE  receiving  memes  !!  prompts  are  an  excellent  way  to  kickstart  our  muses’  interactions  or  further  their  connections  ! the  limit  for  memes  to  be  sent  ,  however  ,  will  be  fifteen  ,  and  i  know  people  have  their  faves  ,  but  i’d  like  for  other  muses  of  mine  to  get  some  attention  so  that  i  don’t  lose  that  muse  .  if  you  see  a  muse  of  mine  that  catches  your  eye  ,  but  you  don’t  really  know  anything  about  them  or  the  movie  /  tv  show  they’re  from  ,  send  in  an  ask  /  meme  anyways  . if  you  have  further  questions  ,  you  can  send  an  im  or  ask  ! i  do  reserve  the  right  to  delete  an  ask  if  i  feel  it’s  just  not  working  out  for  me  .

plotting  ;

i  love  plotting  out  threads  ,  but  asks  i  prefer  to  be  spontaneous  unless  it’s  referring  to  a  plot  we’ve  discussed  .  in  that  case  ,  i  ask  that  you  be  specific  by  attaching  a  ‘*’  to  the  end  or  beginning  . as  of  now  ,  though  ,  i’m  not  looking  to  plot  unless  it’s  plotting  out  a  ship  .

please  give  this  post  a  like  if  you’ve  read  thru  all  the  way  !

total  ;  033  .

disney  ;

amelia  smollett  ;  treasure  planet  (  primary  )

jim  hawkins  ;  treasure  planet  (  primary  )  -  moved  to  single  blog  ;  will  still  do  threads  here  !

sarah  hawkins  ;  treasure  planet  (  primary  )

ariel  nielsen  ;  the  little  mermaid  (  primary  )

melody  nielsen  ;  the  little  mermaid  (  primary  )

eric  nielsen  ;  the  little  mermaid  (  secondary  )

aladdin  amari  ;  aladdin  (  primary  )

belle  dumont  ;  beauty  and  the  beast  (  primary  )

rapunzel  hanover  ;  tangled  (  primary  )

anna  olsen  ;  frozen  (  primary  )

hiro  hamada  ;  big  hero  six  (  primary  )

tadashi  hamada  ;  big  hero  six  (  primary  )

cass  hamada  ;  big  hero  six  (  secondary  )

gogo  tomago  ;  big  hero  six  (  secondary  )

mirabel  madrigal  ;  encanto  (  primary  )

julieta  madrigal  ;  encanto  (  primary  )

pepa  madrigal  ;  encanto  (  primary  )

ming  lee  ;  turning  red  (  primary  )

miriam  wexler  ;  turning  red  (  secondary  )

lady  ;  lady  and  the  tramp  (  primary  )

scamp  ;  lady  and  the  tramp  (  secondary  )

angel  ;  lady  and  the  tramp  (  secondary  )

twentieth  century  fox  ;

dimitri  sudayev  ;  anastasia  (  primary  )

anya  romanova  ;  anastasia  (  primary  )

akima  kunimoto  ;  titan  a.e.  (  primary  )

cale  tucker  ;  titan  a.e.  (  primary  )

joseph  korso  ;  titan  a.e.  (  secondary  )

dreamworks  ;

sinbad  anvari  ;  sinbad  :  legend  of  the  seven  seas  (  primary  )

marina  kamali  ;  sinbad  :  legend  of  the  seven  seas  (  primary  )

video  games  ;

alex  chen  ;  life  is  strange  :  true  colors  (  primary  )

chloe  price  ;  life  is  strange  /  lis  :  bts  (  primary  )

sean  diaz  ;  life  is  strange  2  (  secondary  )

sam  giddings  ;  until  dawn  (  secondary  )

[daveeddiggsit]

Broken, but Not Shattered

WIDEOUT MASTERLIST

Series: WIDEOUT (chpt vii)

Note: This took me so long to write. Partly bc I kept getting distracted from other projects, but partly bc it’s a hella long chapter. ANYWAYS, i really hope you enjoy. To me, it feels like a movie, but let me know your thoughts! Enjoy :)

Word Count: 10.1k

Pairing: Football Player!Thomas Jefferson x Reader

Warnings: injury. T has a panic attack at some point. poor T, he just needs a hug :( implied sex. angst. cursing. smooches. mental health struggle in wake of an incident. anxiety.

Summary: During your Senior year of high school, an unfortunate event happens during Thomas’ last football game of the regular season. Thomas gets pushed to his limits mentally and physically. How does your relationship fare in the wake of his injury?

Tagging: @coololdsoulpoetlove @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @lilangeldevil006 @pana-ce-a​ @merrahonthawall @katierpblogg @thespianbooks @a-hopeless-fan @uniquelystarchildthedragon @wcreech @sabbrriiinnaa @imperial-martian @harpersmariano @icanneverbesatisfied @underthewillowtreerycb @i-know-i-can​

ELEVEN MONTHS LATER...

Your high school holds an annual tailgate before the final home football game of each season. This is the first time you are motivated (and excited) to attend the tailgate. The past three years, you’d decided to skip out, but due to this year being your Senior year (Thomas also may or may not have something to do with it), you partake in this year’s festivities along with the rest of the student body.

After the bell rings, dismissing everybody from their last class of the day, a sea of students migrates down to the football stadium. There, you and Maria discover food vendors of all sorts along with party games that are scattered around the perimeter of the stadium and in the parking lot. It almost feels like a carnival in a way, except there are no rides and you’re surrounded by a bunch of kids with a copious amount of school pride. 

You and your best friend have fun and roam around for some time, getting a bite to eat at a vendor here and there. Everyone around you is having a blast, whether they’re walking around in their friend groups or playing games.

Eventually, you and Maria go to get some ice cream, but on the way you run into Ellie, a cheerleader who also happens to be a Senior. You’ve gotten to know her well due to your now frequent presence at Panther Football games and because she’s in your English class. You also hear a lot about her from Maria, who probably spends more time photographing the cheerleader than the actual football games now since they’ve met. You notice that she speaks of Ellie while gushing about her beauty and intelligence extremely often; it’s safe to say that Maria has an immense crush on her.

“Oh, hey, guys! Nice to see you.” Ellie says with a smile, causing you and your best friend to stop walking.

Although the cheerleader has greeted you both, her gaze barely wavers from Maria, and suddenly you feel like you are intruding. That’s when you decide that it’s time to become Maria’s wingwoman.

“Hey!” You grin widely, looking between her and Maria. “Ellie! Maria was actually just talking about you.” Your best friend’s eyes widen at your lack of subtlety. 

“Really?” Ellie asks, her eyes brightening up as she turns her full attention to Maria who blushes slightly. 

She coughs lightly to try and cover it up before her eyes quickly flit over to you in a panic. You raise your eyebrows and use your hand to gesture her to go on.

“Oh, um…” Maria starts, pulling your gaze away from you and towards Ellie. “Yeah, El, I uh was…” She glances up at you again over Ellie’s shoulder and you point to the ice cream truck next to you and mouth, ‘get ice cream.’ “...wondering if you wanted to come and get some ice cream with me? Us. At the truck.”

You have never ever, in your seven years of best friendship, seen Maria act this nervous around a girl… let alone need your help to talk to someone she likes. There’s something about this Ellie girl that has turned Maria completely shy and you can’t help but gush at how cute the both of them are.

“Oh, yeah! I’d really like that.” Ellie says happily, causing Maria to grin. They both turn around to walk towards the ice-cream truck and Maria stops for a second, noticing that you’re not with them anymore.

“Y/N, are you coming?” She asks, slightly more comfortable now that Ellie’s accepted her offer. 

“No, you guys go. I just uh…” You try to think of an excuse when suddenly your phone vibrates, luckily giving you one. You glance down at it, seeing a text pop up from your boyfriend. “I just got a text from Thomas, so I should probably go meet him. You guys have fun, though!”

Ellie nods, saying, “We will! See you around, Y/N,” before gently grabbing Maria’s arm to lead her away. 

Beaming, Maria turns her head towards you and mouths, “thanks, love you.” You send her a wink and blow her a kiss, watching her walk away with her soon-to-be beau. This is the happiest you’ve seen her in a long time and you’re beyond excited to see her finally want to start dating someone again after her last breakup with her lying ex-boyfriend, Alexander.

Satisfied with your work, you turn to walk through the crowds of students and towards the underneath of the bleachers: the breathtakingly romantic spot Thomas has chosen for you to meet.

When you arrive, you don’t spot him for a second before you feel a pair of arms snake around your waist from behind. A familiar voice sounds next to your ear, causing you to shiver unintentionally. “You’re looking mighty cute today, princess. You come here often?”

You relax against the warm body behind you once you realize who the voice belongs to. A small smile spreads across your cheeks as you respond. “Under the bleachers? Nah. I’m only here because I’m waiting for my boyfriend.”

“Oh?” You can hear the smile in his voice as his arms wrap more snuggly around you. “Well, he must be a very lucky guy.”

You lean your head back against Thomas’ shoulder. “Yep. Extremely lucky, considering the fact that we’re both standing in the space where people do God knows what during games.”

He just laughs and nuzzles his face into your neck, his warm breath fanning out against you. He presses a few kisses there before his lips trail up to your cheek to press a chaste peck there as well. “I was wonderin’ how long it was gonna take for you to show up.” Thomas murmurs against your skin and your eyes flutter shut at the contact.

You muster up the strength to turn your body in his arms so that you can face him. Thomas is breathtakingly handsome as always, sporting his charcoal football jersey over a dark hoodie and a pair of black ripped jeans. He’s beaming and smiling down at you like you’re his whole world. 

“It wasn’t that long.” You roll your eyes with a lazy grin tugging at your lips. “I was hanging with Maria until we ran into Ellie, so I left them alone to come meet you.”

“Yeah? They together yet? They keep dancin’ around each other; one of them needs to make a move.”

You laugh at Thomas’ words. “Hey, you make it sound like it’s easy.”

“They’re so obviously into each other! They need to just confess their feelings and get together. Can’t be that difficult.” Thomas shrugs, looking down at you.

You just give him a pointed look. “You’re one to talk, Jefferson. Do you remember how nervous you were before our first kiss? Your hands were literally shaking…”

Thomas withdraws his touch from your waist and crosses his arms over his chest. He licks his lips and looks away for a second before he speaks. “Alright, alright, come on, now.” His deadpanned gaze shifts back to you, but the glint in his eyes is playful. “You still gonna hold that over me? It’s almost been a year.”

You splay your arms out innocently as your mouth falls open with a smile. “It was cute!”

“I was vulnerable, Y/N!” He responds dramatically with wide eyes. “I didn’t know what you were feeling. What if you’d rejected me?”

“Well, I didn’t.” You take a step closer to him, reaching your hands up to wrap around his forearms to pull his arms back down around you, but he doesn’t budge. Instead, you’re just standing there with your hands on his forearms as you two stare at each other. “T, I obviously didn’t reject you.”

“I know that now.” Thomas finally unfolds his arms and brushes his hands up your arms and down your body before they come to a stop at your waist again. He hugs you close to him before he speaks again. “But I wasn’t sure if you were even into me like that back then.”

You grin, looking up at him and settling your hands on his chest. “Exactly, so don’t blame El and M for not rushing things. Let them figure it out on their own.”

“Alright, point made, sweetheart, point made.” He laughs, rolling his eyes before staring down at you with a gaze that you can’t quite describe. It makes your breath catch in your throat and your heart swell. You can’t put your finger on it, but it’s soft but firm at the same time and it has a certain fondness to it that you can’t decipher — it’s like he’s sure of something, but doesn’t want to voice it. 

The comfortable silence between you stretches on as he continues to stare unabashedly. 

You grab a hold of the black polyester material of his jersey to pull him closer. “What?” You ask, breathing out a nervous laugh.

Thomas snaps out of his gaze by releasing a chuckle before he leans down, causing his face to near yours. His smile reaches his eyes and causes your heart to soar. “Nothin’... just—” His eyes flicker down to your lips for a split second. “You’re a good friend, baby.”

“Yeah?” You whisper, grinning as your noses brush against each other.

“Mhm.” He hums before he leans in to sweetly press his mouth to yours.

The kiss warms you up as his hands leave your waist to hold your face gently. Your fingers clutch his jersey tightly, pulling him against you as his lips slowly capture yours again and again, leaving you breathless.

Kissing Thomas never gets old; it’s always like a breath of fresh air. You revel in the sense of presence he creates every time you’re close to him. It’s relaxing, giving you a feeling of home and familiarity that only he can provide.

You two just stay there for a bit, hugging each other closely as the sounds of music and chatter from students can be heard in the distance. You’re content in his warm embrace, and he’s the only thing keeping you warm in the chilly Autumn weather.

Some time later, Thomas leads you out from under the bleachers to walk to the topside of them. You two sit at the front row towards the bottom of the vacant seats. Leaning your head against Thomas’ shoulder, you look out to the empty football field.

“So, a scout for W&M Football is gonna be at the game today.” Thomas voices softly, causing you to pull back enough to look him in the eye. “Coach said he’s been talking to him about me, so he flew out to watch me play in person.”

“Really? Holy shit, Thomas, that’s amazing.” You say, grinning and reaching a hand up to tenderly hold his cheek. “I’m proud of you, babe.”

He smiles and looks down bashfully before he gazes back at you. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself, sweetheart. Haven’t impressed the guy enough to get a scholarship yet.”

“Exactly. ‘Yet.’ You will, you know that.” You say, moving your hand back down to lightly nudge his arm. “You’re the most ‘confident’ guy I know.” You put air quotes around confident because that’s what Thomas dubs himself instead of letting himself get called cocky.

He laughs, shaking his head before he looks back out, squinting his eyes in the bright sunlight. The golden rays bring out the brown in his curls and eyes, making them a more honey shade. “That I am, I suppose.”

“You nervous?” You ask, watching him closely. As much as Thomas pegs himself the confident (and sometimes arrogant by others) one on the outside, you know that he’s still human and experiences times of unsureness.

“For the game or the scout?”

“Both.” You answer, shrugging, watching a golf cart fly by on the track in front of you.

Thomas glances back at you and momentarily admires the way the sunlight illuminates your face. A smile spreads across his lips before he responds. “To be honest? Not really.” He says, causing you to look at him with a raised eyebrow. “For the game? Not nervous at all. We beat Easton by 30 points last time we played them. And as far as the W&M scout goes, I am a bit nervous, but I know I should be fine as long as I play like I normally do.”

You chuckle, rolling your eyes. “Wow… and here I was thinking that Thomas Jefferson was turning a little modest on me.”

He just laughs, his gaze playful as he looks at you. “Never, darlin’. Can’t be unsure of myself when I got my girl on the sideline as my good luck charm.”

You grin and shake your head at him. “Well, for what it’s worth and not that you need any more words of encouragement — because you seem to have it all figured out,” You give him a pointed look that’s more teasing than anything serious. “I think you’re gonna be great today, T.” You say sweetly, perching your chin on his shoulder. 

Thomas’ grin brightens and he moves to place his lips gently on your forehead before he wraps an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer. He rests his head on top of yours as you both turn to watch the white lines on the turf get freshly painted over in preparation for the game later.

“Your words will always mean more to me than you think, sweetheart.” He says softly. 

⋆﹥ ━━━━━━━   ♛   ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Maria shows up later than usual to the sideline to start setting up her gear. You can’t help but be slightly suspicious about her previous whereabouts and you wonder if it has to do with a certain cheerleader.

“Sooo…” You start off, the corner of your mouth twisting up into a knowing grin. “Where were you? Why’re you late?”

Maria just smiles bashfully as she starts to unpack her camera bag. “I’m getting some real Deja Vu from last year when you and Thomas got together, except now I’m in your shoes.”

You laugh, watching her as she blushes slightly and pauses her actions. “So, I’m guessing that you were with Ellie?” Maria nods, causing you to grin wider. “Are you guys official yet?”

You wait in anticipation as you stare at Maria who purses her lips before she looks away for a second. “I don’t know.” She mumbles.

“What?” You ask, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion. 

“I don’t know.” Maria repeats, looking back at you, shrugging her shoulders. 

“What do you mean you don’t know, Maria?”

“I mean, she kissed me… and then we got interrupted by something, and then we didn’t really talk about labeling ourselves or anything, but she said to meet her after the game, so… I don’t know.”

You think for a second. “Well, if she wants you to meet her after the game, that means she wants to talk to you, right? So, just ask her then.”

“Ask her what?”

“Are you serious?” You give her a pointed look, a small grin pulling at your lips. “Ask her to be your girlfriend, dummy. That’s what you want, right?”

Maria busies herself by cleaning the lens of her camera with a rag. “I just… don’t wanna mess this up, Y/N. That’s why I get so nervous around her. All my past relationships have been shitty and… I don’t want her to turn into another one. You get what I mean?”

You nod in understanding. “Yeah. Yeah, I get that, but hey,” you put a hand on her arm, causing her to look at you. “She’s different, though. You’ve said it before, and I can see it. I have a good feeling about this one… and I’m sure you do, too. I say go for it, M. I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time. You deserve to be happy.”

You pause for a second before you ramble on. “Not that being in a relationship solely constitutes happiness, but… you know what I mean.”

Maria just smiles and looks down for a second before she puts her camera down and hugs you tightly. “Thanks, Y/N. Really, it means a lot.” She mumbles against your shoulder and you squeeze her back just as tightly.

“Any time, M. It’s what I’m here for.” You say softly, rubbing her back. “You give me advice all the time, now it’s my turn. It’s a two-way street. We gotta support each other.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Maria sighs when she pulls back from the hug. “Okay, I’m gonna ask her. After the game. If you’re cool with waiting around a little bit, I know I’m your ride home, so—”

You dismiss her worries with a wave of your hand. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll get T to drive me. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“Yeah, but tonight was supposed to be Girls’ Night…”

“Don’t worry about it, Maria.” You stress with a smile. “We’ll reschedule. Promise. When the game ends, you go get your girl. Win or lose… no matter what, okay?”

Maria nods and takes in a deep breath.

“Okay. Promise.”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━   ♛   ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Thomas was right earlier. Easton High School’s football team is not a great team. The game is a complete blowout with your home team beating their opponent 38-7 at halftime. You can tell that the other team is salty from some things you can hear them yelling on the opposite side of the field, but they really have no grounds to talk because of the fact that they’re getting beat so badly by Thomas’ team.

You were also right earlier. Thomas has been having a phenomenal game. It’s one of the best games you’ve seen him play thus far — he has three touchdowns and it’s only the beginning of the third quarter. 

Although Easton has the ball currently as they try to score, Thomas, Aaron, James, and the rest of his teammates standing on the sideline don’t seem fazed or worried at all. They’re all goofing around by laughing and making jokes with each other. At some point, Thomas even goes over to his position coach to ask for some Skittles and he gives him a handful.

You don’t even raise an eyebrow when you spot him with a handful of candy during games anymore. You’ve noticed him, James, and Aaron with them throughout the season and you have no desire to ask anymore.

It isn’t long before the Panthers’ defense stops Easton’s drive with an interception, allowing the ball to go back to the Panthers offense’s possession. You watch as Thomas scrambles to get on the field with his teammates after finishing the last of his candy. He’s lucky that his coach doesn’t see him chewing when he puts his helmet back on.

There’s still plenty of game left, and it looks like Coach Washington isn’t planning on backing down his offense just yet when he yells at them to score. He doesn’t plan on showing any mercy to the visiting team.

Thomas is on the side of the field closest to you, but he doesn’t notice because his focus is locked into the game now. You can hear him jawing off with his defender as they both line up at the line of scrimmage. If Thomas Jefferson is known for one thing on the field, it’s trash talking — especially if someone on the opposing team initiates it.

Jefferson keeps his composure as he riles his opponent up, enough for you to notice that the other guy is heated.

The ball is snapped, starting play and Thomas sprints ahead of his defender. The quarterback throws the ball in his direction and Thomas jumps up to catch it when suddenly he is tackled by his opponent before his fingers can even graze the football. It’s a dirty play to say the least, and this causes the home side of the stadium to erupt in massive boos. 

You yell in disgust at the hit along with Maria who stands besides you, but luckily Thomas is up on his feet in no time and yelling in the face of his defender. James runs up to separate him so that he doesn’t get a personal foul.

The refs throw their flags and call a ‘pass interference’ penalty, which satisfies the home team and their fans. It’s not long before both teams go to the new line of scrimmage, which is much closer to the end zone now.

Play starts again and Thomas swiftly runs towards the end zone while faking out his defender once again. He’s able to catch the ball this time and sprints far ahead of the opponents of the other team. He slows down right before he gets to the end zone and tauntingly waves at the defender who tackled him in the previous play.

Next, everything feels like it’s slow motion. 

Right before Thomas crosses the goal line, two of the defenders from the other team dive to tackle him from behind and you can hear the impact of their bodies hitting him from your position on the sideline. One of the tacklers comes up short and lands on Thomas’ left ankle, causing it to buckle while Thomas falls down along with it in the end zone. 

The entire stadium erupt into cheers at the touchdown, unaware of the damage done to the star wide receiver. The defenders stand up and are pushed back by their teammates. Seconds pass by and gradually, the cheers start to die down as Thomas still lies face-down on the turf, his left hand weakly reaching towards his left ankle. 

He’s not getting up.

Your heart begins to beat rapidly in your chest as panic starts to rise. Oh… oh no.

“Come on, baby. Come on. Get up.” You whisper under your breath. “You’re okay, Tommy. Please get up.”

Slowly, Thomas is able to get himself on his hands and knees, but it’s not without him yelping in pain. Your heart breaks for him.

James sprints and is crouched on the ground by Thomas’ side in no time. He puts a comforting hand on his back and you can see him talking to him, asking him if he’s okay. After a few seconds, James turns towards the sideline and signals for a trainer to go to them. Thomas slowly turns over so that he lies on his back with help from James and you can see his body writhe in pain as he reaches for his lower left leg again.

There’s an eerie quiet that blankets the stadium now. You don’t like it. You hate how a place filled with sounds of happiness and joy could morph into a space almost completely stripped of sound period — filled with emptiness and despair instead at the drop of a dime.

Now all the players on the field take a knee for Thomas as he’s slowly helped up by his teammates and the team trainers. They lead him to a golf cart where he sits, clutching at his left ankle. His helmet is still on, and you can’t see his face through his visor, but you know that he’s hurting beneath the mask as he hangs his head.

One of the defenders who tackled him has his helmet off now as he goes to apologize to Thomas. The guilt and regret is evident in his face that he caused something so detrimental to happen to a fellow athlete — because that’s all they are at the end of the day: athletes. They all play the same sport; ultimately, it doesn’t matter which team they play for. They’re all just doing what they love: playing football. And nobody deserves to have that be stripped away from them at the blink of an eye.

The forever silence is now broken as claps can be heard from everyone, showing sportsmanship and solidarity for Thomas and his injury as he’s driven off the field and towards the main building where the locker rooms are.

“Y/N…” Maria says softly next to you, and you finally notice that your hand has been placed over your mouth in shock for the past five minutes. “I’m so sorry.”

“I…” You start out, but your voice is wobbly. A single tear runs down your cheek and you wipe it away and sniffle as you try to stay strong. “What do I do?”

You have to stay strong for Thomas, but you feel helpless. You don’t know where to go, who to talk to. Are you allowed to go and see him in the locker room or do you wait until the game ends? Do you call his parents or will his coach take care of that? How bad is the injury? Is Thomas going to be okay?

You’re interrupted from your thoughts when the rest of the Panthers offense comes off the field. James stops when he reaches you.

“He needs you, Y/N.” He says, taking off his helmet. James looks just as worried as you feel. “It’s not looking good… and he’s gonna need someone to lean on. I know him, and with his parents gone in LA and the team still playing out the rest of the game… he shouldn’t be alone right now. He may act big and tough on the field in front of everyone, but you know how T is. He needs support.”

You nod slowly and sniffle before taking a deep breath. You look towards Maria and she nods at you, saying, “Go to him, Y/N.”

“Okay.” You whisper, looking between the two of them. “Okay.”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━   ♛   ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Your mind races as you wait outside the trainer’s room where Thomas is getting treated by the team doctor. On your way inside, you went to the locker room to retrieve Thomas’ backpack per the request of one of the trainers standing in the hallway outside the medical room.

Despite it feeling like hours, it isn’t long before the team physician comes out of the room, causing you to perk up as you lean against the wall. The doctor whispers to the trainer and you pick up snippets of their conversation from your position next to the door.

“...has to go to the hospital for an x-ray… lots of swelling… unclear whether it’s fractured or a ruptured achilles.”

After they finish speaking, you ask if you can go in. They nod, and the doctor tells you that Thomas is being unresponsive to any questions that are being asked of him. The doctor asks you to break the news of a hospital visit being necessary tonight, and just like that you feel like you have a huge weight on your shoulders. But you don’t care because right now, you just want to see Thomas and make sure that he’s okay, so you just nod before you enter the room quickly with Thomas’ bag in your hands.

When you enter, you see Thomas on an exam table in a corner of the room. He’s just sitting there, both of his legs hanging off the table, his newly injured ankle out of his cleat and wrapped in ice to reduce the swelling. He still has his shoulder pads on and grass stains are evident on his dark uniform. He doesn’t notice you come in because his head is buried in his gloved hands.

You set his bag down, next to the door entrance and carefully make your way towards him. As you get closer, you can see his shoulders rise and fall with each shaky breath he takes. Gently, you place a hand on his arm, causing him to jump slightly.

“Hey, T. It’s okay, baby, it’s just me.” You say softly, tilting your head a little bit to make eye contact with him through his fingers. Slowly, he drops both of his hands to his lap, revealing his face to you. He looks like a ghost of his normal confident, cheery self. There are bags under his red eyes and you can tell that he is utterly exhausted.

But still, at the sight of you, Thomas’ lips twinge up into a sad smile (he doesn’t hide his distress as well as he thinks) as he reaches out to graze his fingers against your cheek. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” He says, half-heartedly. He’s happy to see you, he really is, but his tone is dampened by the pain he is feeling. “What’re you doin’ in here? You should be out cheerin’ and havin’ fun with everyone else.” His voice is quiet, and you wonder if it’s because he’s afraid it will break if he speaks any louder.

“T, if you think I come to these games to hang with the rest of the team, you’re wrong. I come for you because I… I wanna support you.” You say earnestly, searching both of his eyes with yours.

At your words, he sends you a half-smile that turns into a grimace when his ankle throbs again. Thomas pats the space next to him, signaling for you to sit. You do, and immediately you notice his fidgeting and trembling hands that lay in his lap, still gloved from the game.

“Let’s get these off, yeah?” You say quietly, carefully reaching for his palms to place them in your lap. Your fingers gingerly undo the strap to each of his gloves and you peel them off his hands one by one before you place them neatly next to you.

When you’re done, Thomas’ right hand gently grabs one of yours and wordlessly laces your fingers together. He presses a warm kiss to the back of your hand as a silent thank you. Silence stretches between you two for a little while as you just sit there, your thumb rubbing reassuring circles on the back of his hand.

“How’re you feeling?” You ask softly. You’re sure he has a million thoughts running through his mind, but you’re not sure how much more of this he can take before it finally sinks in and hits him.

“It hurts...” He says, releasing a shaky breath. You squeeze his hand in reassurance, letting him know your support wordlessly. While he’s been quiet since you’d walked into the room, your question unintentionally prompts Thomas to start pouring out his thoughts at rapid speed. 

“And… an— and I don’t know if it’s broken or not. Or if I’ll be able to play football this season, or ever again for that matter. I… I do think it’s broken, though. I’ve had sprains and they’ve never hurt like this.”

You can hear his breathing start to quicken as he continues to ramble.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do. What if this ends my career, Y/N? I can’t end my high school career like this. All my plans for the future: gone. What about scholarships? I wanted to be in the NFL like my dad. How am I supposed to get drafted by the Giants if I can’t— if I can’t play college ball?” He shakes his head at the mention of his father as his voice darkens slightly. “And speaking of my dad, why aren’t my parents here when I fucking need them? I fucking do everything for them and they can’t be here when I actually need them? They went to a charity event in LA instead of my last regular season game when they knew a scout would be watching tonight. Oh my god, the scout. What if—”

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s gonna be okay, T. Just breathe. You’re not alone in this.” You bring your other hand up to his cheek to turn his face towards you to make eye contact with him. You look at him firmly and tell him, “You’re going to be okay, babe. Let’s just take it one step at a time, one play at a time, just like Coach says, right?”

You vaguely remember Thomas telling you one night that Coach Washington lives by the ‘one play at a time’ code, which basically means taking things, in life and in football, one step at a time. 

Fortunately, you see Thomas visibly begin to calm down from your words. It’s heartbreaking to see him have a panic attack like this; all you want is for him to feel better, so you continue to talk, letting your voice soothe him.

“Let’s just stay positive and focus on the next step right now, babe. And right now, that next step is getting you to a hospital so that we can get that ankle x-rayed. Okay? We can do that, right?”

Thomas takes in deep breaths, his breathing slowly turning back to normal. After searching your eyes, he exhales heavily and drops his head before he squeezes his eyes shut. 

“Yeah, we can do that.” He murmurs, so soft you can barely hear it. He starts to shake his head before he speaks again. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I don’t want you seein’ me like this. I’m a fucking mess. And I know this isn’t how we planned today would go.”

“T, you’re allowed to have emotions. I don’t care if you’re a mess, I want to know that you’re okay. I’m your girlfriend. I’m here for you always. Not just when you win games.”

Thomas licks his lips and nods before he looks at you; his gaze is full of gratefulness and admiration, but the sorrow is still clearly evident. His mouth opens as if he’s going to say something, but hesitates and thinks better of it. Instead, he leans over to hug you closely against his side (as best as he can with his shoulder pads still on).

“Thank you, baby. You have no idea how much that means to me… how much you being here means to me.”

With the way Thomas has always treated you and the way he’s acting now, you feel like you do have an idea, though. He’s always shown you so much care and expressed how grateful he is through his actions every day. You know that you mean as much to him as he does to you… and that’s saying something.

You two stay like that for some time, but you know that you eventually have to pull away to follow the team physician’s orders and get him to the hospital. Slowly and gently, you pull back from his embrace and reach up to give Thomas a chaste kiss, it’s quick but reassuring at the same time.

“Okay, Tommy, let’s get these shoulder pads off you and get you to the hospital, yeah?”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━   ♛   ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Fractured.

That is the word that sticks out most amidst the countless thoughts that swirl around Thomas’ head.

The hospital visit was surprisingly quick — in and out, resulting in Thomas leaving with crutches and a magenta cast on his left ankle. 

His parents had called while he was in the waiting room with you and Danté, his trainer from the team (some adult supervision had to be involved even though you and Thomas are 18). His father had told him that they’d be on the first flight out of LAX and back home first thing tomorrow morning. Both of his parents are worried about him (his mother is more vocal about it than his father) especially after Thomas called them back up to tell them the results of his x-rays. 

While he had felt his anxiety ignite again and spread throughout his chest at the news of his fractured ankle, he’d stayed strong in front of his family, the doctor, his trainer, and you. He took the news like a champ on the outside, but on the inside, he kept feeling like he could barely keep it together.

That’s where he is now: sitting silently in the passenger seat of his Mustang, trying to keep his emotions in check as you drive him home from the hospital. It’s not the first time you’ve driven his car, and while he’d normally make a charming comment about you looking extremely attractive driving the Mustang, he stays quiet. The repetitions of the doctor’s words still ring in Thomas’ mind, hindering him from acting anything like his usual self… and he hates it. He hates the effect that one word has on him.

Fractured. Fractured. Fractured.

“As you can see, your fibula is fractured right here above the lateral malleolus. Luckily, the bone isn’t displaced, so we’re gonna treat this as a…” 

After hearing the word he’s dreaded most, Thomas zones out and gets lost in thought as he mindlessly watches the doctor point to various areas on the x-ray.

“...don’t think surgery will be necessary; however, we do believe a cast is imperative. This does mean that there will be no physical activity, of any sort, for at least six to eight weeks. Do I make myself clear?”

Thomas doesn’t respond, staring blankly at the man in the white coat in front of him.

“Did you hear what I said, Mr. Jefferson?” The doctor asks more sternly, and Thomas snaps out of it. He stares up at the physician, his eyes more alert. 

“Yeah, Doc.” He says halfheartedly. He sounds so drained of energy, so unlike his usual self. “Loud and clear.”

Everything the doctor had told him at the hospital hadn’t exactly been a surprise; in fact, it’s exactly what Thomas had predicted. His ankle is broken and he won’t be able to play football for six to eight weeks… and that terrifies him. 

His high school football career is officially over… and he won’t get to finish out the playoff season with his teammates.

The silence in the car stretches on and when you get to the familiar road that leads to Thomas’ house, you sneak a glance over at him. He’s staring out the window and you are aware of the fact that he hasn’t spoken since he was released from the hospital. You can only imagine the whirlwind of thoughts going through his mind right now and your heart once again breaks for him.

You take your right hand off the steering wheel to gently lace your fingers with his, giving him a comforting squeeze to signify your reassurance. He squeezes back weakly, giving you a good indication at where he is mentally. You don’t want to poke or prod him, so you allow the silence to linger in the space between you two until you finally reach his home.

Once you pull into his garage and close it behind you, you go to release Thomas’ hand and get out of the car, but he tightens his hold on your fingers, preventing you from going anywhere. 

“T, babe, you gotta let me go so I can grab your stuff.” You say gently, letting the driver's side door fall shut after having already opened it. He’s still blankly staring out the side window when you turn to him. Thomas reluctantly lets go of your hand and you take that as an okay for you to get out. 

You walk over to the passenger's side of the car to grab his crutches out of the back seat. With his crutches in your grasp, you go to open his door. He quickly wipes at his left eye before he slowly turns his body and swings his legs so that he faces your direction. His magenta wrapped ankle rests carefully against the concrete floor of the garage. Thomas eventually looks up at you, revealing his red eyes and tear-filled gaze.

“Hey…” You murmur, jumping to quickly take action, seeing Thomas clearly in a state of distress. You lean the crutches against the side of the Mustang before you move to caress his cheek. 

Thomas just looks down and wipes at his eyes before clearing his throat. “I’m fine.” He croaks, his voice breaking and wavering as he sucks in a shaky deep breath.

He moves to stand up, but your hands go to press down firmly on his shoulders. Thomas doesn’t seem to protest or resist against your touch as he stays seated with his feet still planted on the concrete. You shake your head at him as you try to catch his teary gaze.

“You’re clearly not fine, T.” You voice softly as you step into the open space between his legs. You bring your hands up to hold his face gently. “Look, we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but please, Tommy, don’t…” You pause, searching for the right words, “don’t hold it all in. You don’t need to be a big tough guy in front of me. I know you.” 

A single tear rolls down his cheek as his resolve starts to slowly break. You tenderly wipe it away with your thumb as you gaze into his watering eyes. 

“It’s okay to cry, babe.”

And then, the last of his walls come tumbling down. Thomas lets his tears fall freely now as his face contorts into a sob. Your eyebrows furrow in concern as his composure crumples. You pull him to you as he ducks his head to bury his face in the material of your sweater.

It’s the first time you’ve seen Thomas cry and all you want to do is be there for him and comfort him to make him feel better — to make all his pain disappear.

You just stand there, one hand holding his head to you and the other rubbing comforting circles on his back to soothe him. You can feel his body shake with each sob as you try your best to console him and work him through it, occasionally murmuring reassuring words to him.

It pains you to see him like this. All you can do is embrace him and let the torrent of his tears soak through your sweater. You could feel him clutch at the fabric from the back of your sweater as he hugs you tightly to him, like he’s grasping at the only thing — the only person — keeping him above water at the moment. He holds onto you because you’re the one saving him from sinking into the depths of his negative thoughts and anxiety.

Thomas clenches his fists again and again, not knowing whether to be angry (at his parents, at the guy who tackled him, at himself) or to give up all hope. You can hear his irregular breathing as he whimpers against you. Gently, you run your hand over his curls, time and time again, in an attempt to calm the silent war within his mind. 

You stay like that for a while, soothing him as he lets out all of his pent up emotions. Over time, he gradually calms down, his breathing slowly returning back to a normal rhythm. Only the sounds of your and Thomas’ breathing can be heard as a tranquil quiet blankets the room.

Eventually, Thomas finally pulls back from you, eyes closed and he takes in a deep breath. It’s still slightly shaky, but he’s much better than the state he was in before.

You use your sleeve to gingerly wipe up the leftover tears that had wet his face. When you're done, both of your hands cup his cheeks as his eyes flutter back open. You send him a soft smile when you catch his gaze.

“There he is.” You whisper, letting your thumbs lightly caress his skin. “Hi, babe.”

He purses his lips before he responds, noticing the huge wet stain on the front of your sweater. “Shit, sweetheart. Sorry for fucking up your shirt.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, T. Just means that I can steal another one of your hoodies.” 

That causes Thomas to crack a watery grin, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him smile in hours. Unfortunately, it doesn’t last long because his expression returns to a serious one in a matter of just a few seconds.

“Thank you, Y/N.” He murmurs before sniffing; his gratefulness is evident in his gaze, but it’s accompanied by a hint of fatigue as well. “Really. Thank you so much, baby. For being here. Supporting me. I… I needed that.”

“Of course, I’m here, T. I’ll always be here, okay?” You say, watching him slowly nod. After a few moments you speak again. “How’re you feeling? Better?”

He shrugs, looking up at you tiredly. “A little. I still feel like shit, but at least I don’t feel like I’m about to explode.” 

“Yeah, please don’t hold your feelings in like that, anymore. I really don’t wanna see my boyfriend explode because he’s ‘too manly to cry.’” You drop your hands from his face to form air quotes on the tail end of your sentence.

“Noted.” He breathes out a small laugh. Warmth blossoms in your chest as you watch him slowly turn back into his normal self. “Also, I feel gross and I’m in desperate need of a shower, so that’s not helping my mood right now, either.”

You grin at him. “Well, that can definitely be arranged once we get you outta this car.”

The small smile returns on Thomas’ face as you open the car door a little further, so that it’s open as wide as it can go. “That’s usually my job.” He says, causing you to raise an eyebrow as you grab ahold of his crutches once again.

“What?” You ask, watching Thomas rise as he slowly gets out of his car.

He grunts as he balances on his right foot and you hand him his crutches. When he situates himself and regains balance, he responds, nodding at the car door. “You opened the door for me earlier. That’s supposed to be my job, princess.”

You grin and roll your eyes, shutting the car door behind him as he moves forward towards the door to his house. “Yeah, well now it’s my turn to return the favor and treat you like a prince… especially given the current situation.”

You grab his backpack from the trunk of the Mustang as Thomas throws the door to his home open.

“Oh, you already do, darling.” He says over his shoulder before you follow him in.

When you get inside the house, you leave his bag by the door at Thomas’ request and drop his keys on the counter in the kitchen. Before Thomas goes to shower, he joins you in the kitchen and heats up (he insists on being the one to do it because he’s ‘not completely helpless’) some leftover macaroni in the microwave for you both as a late dinner. He’s starving after having played a game and gone through as much emotional and physical trauma as he did.

Halfway through your meal, you feel your phone vibrate repeatedly in your pocket. You realize you’ve forgotten about it for hours, having been worrying constantly about your boyfriend’s mental and physical health. You dig your phone out of your jeans to see your brother Erik calling you.

You glance over at Thomas who is nose deep in his dinner before you accept the call.

“Hello?”

“Y/N, finally, Jesus. Where are you? Why weren’t you responding to my texts?”

“I’ve been busy, tonight’s been a crazy night, okay?” You glance over at Thomas who’s now looking up at you from his food with an eyebrow raised. You mouth ‘Erik’ and he nods, returning to eat. “Thomas got injured at the game today. It was bad. Had to drive him to the hospital and everything.”

“Shit, man.” Erik says on the other line, sounding worried. He and Thomas had surprisingly gotten along well with each other since you two started dating. They play Madden with each other occasionally when Erik’s back in town, so you know they’ve created some sort of friendship/brotherly bond. “Are you still there? At the hospital?”

“No, we’re at his place now. Just got here. Eating dinner.” You say before you glance at Thomas who’s staring down at his food now. There’s no way you’re leaving him alone here overnight. “Listen, E, can you please do me a huge favor and cover for me? Just tell Mom and Dad I’m staying at Maria’s for the night. I can’t just leave T alone in an empty house when he just broke his ankle.”

“Broken ankle — Jesus, that’s rough.” Erik is quick to respond. “But, yeah, sis, I got you. You’ve covered for me plenty of times.”

You let out a sigh of relief, happy that you’ll have your parents off your back now. “Thanks, Erik.”

“So, how’s Thomas taking the news? Is he good to talk?”

You pull the phone away from your ear to ask Thomas if he wants to speak to your brother on the phone. You say Erik’s worried about him and he nods. You hand the phone to him and watch him as he holds it up to his ear.

“Yo, what’s up, E?” Thomas greets; his voice sounds tired, but he sounds more like himself now. “I’ve been better. Hanging in there, I guess.”

You continue to eat the rest of your dinner as Thomas and Erik talk.

“Yeah, fractured actually. Doc said a bunch of scientific stuff, but I wasn’t really listening. I just know that I can’t finish out the season.” Thomas is quiet, staring down at the kitchen counter until he chuckles at something Erik says. “Yeah, there’ll always be Madden, bro. Just bummed because I wanna be on the cover one day and I can’t do that when I’m injured and at risk of losing scholarship opportunities.”

He listens to Erik’s words before he looks over at you, a small smile pulls at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, I know. She’s been with me all night since it happened. Honestly, I don’t know what’d I’d be doing right now without her. You’re sister’s a real one, bro. Y/N’s a life saver.”

You smile at him sweetly as he watches you with a soft glint in his eyes.

“Yeah, no, you won’t have to worry about that, trust me.” He breathes out a short laugh. “Alright, bro, I’ll catch you later.” He’s quiet for a few seconds as Erik responds. “I will. You, too. Alright, bye.”

Thomas hangs up and hands the phone back to you.

“You guys good?” You ask, putting your phone back in your pocket.

Thomas nods, finishing up the last of his dinner. “We’re good. Erik’s a good dude.”

“You sure, bro?” You tease, a grin tugging at your lips. “Why do you say ‘bro’ every other sentence when you’re talking to my bro, bro?” 

By now, you know that Thomas code switches when he talks to his friends versus when he’s with you, but you can’t help but try to cheer him up by poking fun at him.

“Leave me alone, bro. That’s just the way I talk to all the bros, you wouldn’t understand.” He rolls eyes, a hint of a grin showing up on his face.

You laugh, shaking your head. You pick up your and Thomas’ plates and walk them over to the sink. “Just messin’ around, T. Givin’ you a hard time.” 

“Yeah, bro, give the injured guy a hard time, because that’s a good idea.” Thomas deadpans. As put off as Thomas tries to act, he can’t stay pretend mad at you for long. After all, your attempt at lifting his mood and pushing him back towards his normal self is working.

“Okay, alright, lesson learned. Don’t make me feel guilty.” You voice before you walk back over to Thomas, chuckling in the process. “And stop calling me ‘bro.’ I like ‘sweetheart’ more.”

You send him a smile before you give him a quick peck on the lips.

“Alright. Noted, sweetheart.” Thomas murmurs with a lazy grin when you pull back.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━   ♛   ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Thomas doesn’t shower without making an offhand joke about you joining him. This time, he blames it on the fact that he’s ‘damaged goods’ and needs help undressing and that you’re really talented at that.

And although you roll your eyes and shove a trash bag at him so that he can cover his cast, you’re genuinely happy to see him bantering with you and joking around like he does normally. You know this injury is going to impact him immensely in the long run, both physically and mentally, but seeing him smile and joke around after pouring his heart out to you earlier in the garage really makes you extremely proud that he is holding his head high.

When you make sure that Thomas is all set to shower, you tell him to yell if he is actually in genuine need of your help. He says that he’ll be fine.

You make your way back to his room and get yourself comfortable. Although the tear stains on your sweater are now dry, you still go to Thomas’ closet to pick out one of his hoodies to sleep in. You also slip on some pajama shorts you’d left there from the last time you stayed over. It’s not your first time spending the night at Thomas’; the night of homecoming was… a lot of fun to say the least. And Thomas makes it a habit to sneak you into his room almost weekly, so you’ve resorted to leaving an extra change of clothes in his room just in case.

Finally comfortable in your new change of clothes, you fall back onto Thomas’ bed with a tired sigh before you grab your phone to check your messages. You see that you have a bunch of unread texts from Erik, Maria, and James.

Dismissing the texts from Erik because you just talked to him on the phone, you open the texts from James. He tells you that the Panthers won the game and that he and the rest of the team are worried about T. He also asks how Thomas is doing because he’s not answering his texts.

You respond, telling him about the fracture and that Thomas is taking it hard, but he’s staying strong and doing better now.

Then, you open the texts from Maria.

Maria (8:35pm): Hey, hope T’s doing okay

Maria (8:36pm): Hope YOU’RE okay too

Maria (9:07pm): Game’s over. Gonna go do the thing we talked about bc I made a promise, wish me luck

Y/N (11:13pm): hey, sorry M. haven’t really been checking my phone all night. T’s okay. broken ankle and he’s really bummed, but he’ll be okay. i’m doing okay too. being with T and seeing that he’s gonna be ok makes me worry a bit less

Y/N (11:13pm): but how’d the thing go?? please tell me it went well. u and ellie would b so cute together

Maria (11:15pm): No worries luv. Glad you and thomas are alright. Whole team was pretty shaken on the sideline after yall left. it was mad quiet even tho we were winning. And ellie was worried too.

Maria (11:16pm): Speaking of… the thing went well and I have a girlfriend now. Her name is ellie.

Y/N (11:16pm): omg congrats! beyond happy for u guys.

Y/N (11:16pm): T’s gonna be happy af lol when he finds out

Maria (11:18pm): Yeah now he can leave me tf alone about it every time he sees me

Y/N (11:19pm): lmao he was just tired of seeing yall circle around each other even tho u clearly had feelings for each other. i was too tbh

Y/N (11:19pm): but glad you guys are official now. you guys are ADORABLE together. i want all the details next time i see you, k?

Maria (11:20pm): I’ll give ALL the details on Monday lol. Promise.

Y/N (11:20pm): can’t wait 

You grin at your phone, genuinely happy for Maria and Ellie. Then, you hear the bathroom door open and Thomas’ crutches sound from down the hall, each sound getting louder as he nears the bedroom.

When Thomas gets to the doorway, you sit up, directing your gaze to him. “I’m guessing you didn’t need help showering after all?” You ask, giving him a once over. He’s wearing shorts and no shirt. Some water droplets still linger on the muscles of his biceps and toned torso, like he was lazy to fully dry himself with his towel.

“Guess not.” He says with a shrug, making his way over to the bed. He sits down on his side, making himself comfortable by laying down, sighing in content as he does so. “Would have definitely been more entertaining had you joined, though.”

“I’m sure it would have.” You muse with a grin, sitting up crossing your feet under you. You decide to tell Thomas the news Maria texted you. “So, Maria and Ellie are dating now.”

Thomas smiles as he laces his fingers behind his head as he relaxes back on his pillow. “Yeah? ‘Bout time.”

“Yep. Also, James texted me. He said that y’all won the game and that he and the team wish you well. He wants you to text him back.”

“Eh, I’ll text him back tomorrow morning. I’m too exhausted right now.” He says, closing his eyes for a second. “But thanks for relaying the message, baby. Glad we won.”

You nod at him before moving off the bed to close his door and turn off the lights. When you get back in bed, Thomas speaks again.

“You know? On the phone, Erik said ‘no funny business,’ but honestly? Not like we haven’t done anythin’ in this bed already…”

Your jaw drops at his suggestive words and although they’re true, you push his shoulder lightly anyway. “Thomas!”

He chuckles softly, looking at you as you slip under the blankets with him. “It’s the truth.”

“I know but doesn’t mean you should say it like that.”

He smiles, but it doesn’t fully reach his eyes. You can tell he’s still hurting deep inside. Thomas being alone with his thoughts in the shower must have gotten to him. You shift closer to him and he rests his head on your chest as you gently thread your fingers into his hair to massage his scalp.

“Are you okay?” You ask softly as you feel him rise and fall with every breath.

It’s an honest question that you’ve been wanting to know the answer to all night. His breathing is even and calm as he ponders his next words. 

“You want the truth?” Thomas asks after a minute of silence. 

“Always, T.”

Thomas wedges his arms under you to wrap them around your torso. He’s quiet for a few more seconds until he speaks again, his voice small. 

“I’m scared, baby.”

You think about your next words carefully before you speak. “I think that’s normal, T. It’s okay to be scared.”

“Do you know how many careers end after an injury like mine?” He asks quietly, the vibrations of his voice reverberating on your chest. “I mean, I know the doc said I’d be better in six to eight weeks, but… who knows if I’ll be the same player? If I’ll be good enough again.”

“You will be.”

“What about college offers? What if no team wants me because of this fracture? Then, I won’t be able to market myself enough to go pro like my dad and I... I don’t think I could live with that, Y/N.”

“Hey, remember what I said in the locker room? One step at a time, baby. The NFL is a long way in the future, okay? Right now? Focus on healing yourself. Offers will come, but give them time. It’s still the beginning of the school year; you have time. You’re gonna get through this and you’re gonna be playing football again in no time. It’s probably gonna be a little difficult, but I know you can do it.”

You pull back to hold his face gently and look into his eyes which hold confliction within them once more. You can see the fear in them, the worry, and the flurry of emotions that he’s going through every second.

“You know why, T?” When Thomas shakes his head slightly, you continue. “Because you are Thomas Jefferson: the strongest guy I know. And I know that you won’t let anything get in the way of you achieving your goals.”

Silence stretches in the air for a few moments as your words sink in.

“And, T?” You start again before you give him a gaze that lets him know that you are absolutely sure of the next words you’re about to say. “Just know that I’ll be proud of you no matter what. I’m already proud of you and the person you are.”

He purses his lips, holding himself together as he closes his eyes and leans forward to press his forehead to yours tenderly. His grip around your waist shakes slightly as he holds you tightly to him, as if he’s afraid you’ll let go.

Thomas cherishes moments like these with you — the fleeting moments where being with you gives him a sense of calm and peace. It’s night and day compared to the chaos he has to endure during practices and games with yelling coaches, teammates, and fans. 

He loves football, though — he truly does. It’s been a constant in his life since the day he was brought into the world. Football has always been like his third parent; it’s taught him discipline, perseverance, and the importance of teamwork/family. Most of his crowning achievements thus far have been attributed to football and it’s something that he wants to stay in his life for the long-term future. Despite the fact that the sport has put him through more physical and mental pain than anything else, he’s still found a place for it in his heart.

But with you… with you Thomas has come to discover a different type of love. One that’s unconditional, unbreaking, and unforgiving. It’s the type of love that has him watching you with admiration at the most random moments. A certain kind of love that has him leaving home earlier in the mornings to pick you up from your house on his way to school just so he can spend a few extra minutes with you. It’s a love where he has completely, willingly given you his heart to do with as you please without him even really noticing. 

So when you show Thomas your unconditional support by telling him that you believe in him, he cherishes that more than he would any compliment from a coach or recruiter.

As he sits here, with your hands in his hair and his forehead pressed against yours, feeling the warmest and most comfort he’s ever felt (despite the fact that he’s injured) — three little words pop up in his mind for what seems like the millionth time today amidst all the bad things he went through.

Not wanting to succumb to the stereotypes of teenage relationships where those three little words are thrown around like nothing, you and Thomas had elected early in your relationship that neither of you would say it until one is absolutely sure of it. Right now, Thomas has never been more sure of anything in his life. That’s when those three little words finally make their way to the tip of his tongue. And before he knows it, those words come tumbling out as a soft, breathless whisper.

“I love you.” He says, his eyes fluttering open so that he can firmly hold your gaze to let you know that he genuinely means it.

Thomas brings his slightly shaking hands up to gently press them against your cheeks so he can hold your face. He pulls back slightly and his eyes search yours. His voice is the most confident it’s been all night, but he doesn’t let it get louder than a murmur. “You don’t have to say it back. You don’t have to say anything, actually. I just want you to know that—”

“I love you, too, Thomas.” You whisper, cutting him off. “If it wasn’t obvious from my little speech before.”

Your words cause both you and Thomas to breathe out a quiet laugh as you hold one another. After a few moments, he leans in to press his warm lips to yours in a soft kiss.

When he pulls away, he hugs you close to him and the sound of each of your deep breaths soothe each other as you both edge closer towards sleep. This is the most tranquil Thomas has felt in a long time and he embraces the feeling fully. He doesn’t think about anything else for once. Just you and your presence and the sound of your even breathing.

It’s not long before both of you fall asleep in each other’s arms.

[silly-ghostz]

Can I have a hp ship Marauders and Golden era? I am 5’5 with dark super curly hair and dark brown eyes and a hufflepuff. I am an emotional esfp but I’m still pretty introverted and an enneagram 9w8. I come off more extroverted then I am and my love language is physical touch I need hugs to feel loved lol. I am sarcastic, outspoken, a little disorganized, and reckless. I’m a true romantic. I like sports and people reading out loud to me. I love summer storms, music (mostly indie) and naps. My favorite colors are dark blue and sage green. I’m a softie deep down and teasing my friends is my love language. I have depression and anxiety(fun times) which makes first impressions hard for me I come off as intimidating bc I’m scared of others lol. I consider myself an empathetic and understanding person :) thank u so much! :))

MARAUDERS SHIP IS REGULUS BLACK

A/n: I don’t know much about our boy reg but I’ll try my best

Requested by @imafann

Reg always had this stigma around him

That’s he evil or up to something

But that couldn’t be farther from the truth

Sure he was quiet and intimidating at times but he really was a soft guy

You’d often tag along during his study session much to your dismay

But he’d promise he’d read to you

And who would say no to that

Though you might not be great at school reg makes it entertaining

He’s not a big touchy guy but he know you are

So for every right answer a kiss {where ever you want ;) }

Reg admired how care free you were

You’d often drag him with you to do stuff like dance in the rain

“Isn’t this fun”

“Darling where gonna get sick”

“Buzzkill”

he always knew how to calm you down when you were panicking

He’d try to ground you with hugs and kisses

He’s a really big softy just for you

Golden trio Era is Ron Weasley

A/n: I wrote this hella late so it might be a bit cringy sorry :(

You and Ron go way back

You meet each other at around second year

He was always a close friend to you

But you want more

So you decide to show him

Because you were a Hufflepuff Quidditch player you spent a long time in the air

You thought it would be perfect to write it in the sky right after you won the latest Quidditch game

You were hyped on adrenaline but the rest of your  team wasn't as hyped

You lost a few points short you were quite upset

It didn't even cross your mind you'd forgot to ask Ron

Ron on the other hand didn't forget

Ron isn't the most outgoing Gryffindor

But he tries

He'd come up to after the game and drag you into a corner

“Hi... Ugh good game out there”

“We lost Ron why I'm I here”

“Oh yeah well I was wondering if you'd like to go out sometime”

Written may 24 and Posted the 25

[killmytyme]

you can tell a lot about someone by the type of music they listen to !!

rules: hit shuffle on your media player and write down the first 20 songs, then tag 10 people. no skipping!

first of all i love @escapesos for tagging me in this bc yes one of my favourite things to do is talk about music i like and yes i am following your lead and talking about every single song, thank u for giving me a chance to do so

1. Flicker by Niall Horan and RTE Concert Orchestra - absolutely beautiful song, the orchestra gives it so much more, niall really came for my throat releasing a folky acoustic album and we love to see it

2. This City by Sam Fischer - i am absolutely positive i found this song from tiktok but i did go through a few week period where it was the only thing I listened to so take from that what you will

3. Can’t Take My Eyes Off You by Craymer & AIIVAWN - this is another tiktok song. yes i hate myself. 

4. If I Ain’t Got You by Alicia Keys - i have a video of me and my former housemates drunkenly screaming this song in our kitchen together. i like to think that’s what Alicia Keys would have wanted for this song. 

5. Motion by Khalid - Khalid’s voice sounds like the exact opposite of the way anxiety feels

6. Dumb Stuff by LANY - i would die for this song. the ONLY thing that is wrong with this song is how short it is. the line “you know our love is like a movie and i’m not above a good cliche” makes me lose my mind every time. this is the song that made me fall in love with LANY

7. The Quiet by Troye Sivan - this isn’t my fave from this album but the Blue Neighbourhood album is one of my all time favourite albums

8. Anaheim by Nicole Zefanya - my go-to sad song. i have an elaborate daydream fic that i haven’t ever written down and exclusively lives in my mind to this song bc i love the atmosphere, the lyrics, the heartbreak. 

9. Is There Somewhere by Halsey - funfact: in 2014/2015 I listened to this song so often that no matter what I do I cannot get it out of the top spot on my top 25 most played on iTunes

10. Talk Up by Drake and Jay-Z - I’m Canadian and if you didn’t know we are actually legally obligated to be Drake fans

11. everytime by Ariana Grande - the best song ariana has ever made is actually goodnight n go but this song comes in a very close second

12. Wish You Were Here by Marianas Trench - this song slaps even though Phantoms is my least favourite trench album, sigh

13. Getaway by Parachute - any other Olds on this site remember the forever and always/she is love/kiss me slowly days of Parachute, before there were official lyric videos for anything, and you would find music on youtube and it was just a weird windows movie maker slideshow of emo photos? those were the days

14. Dancing Under Red Skies by Dermot Kennedy - I’m a dermot kennedy stan first and a person second

15. Don’t Be a Fool by Shawn Mendes - first of all I love this song second and I stanned this album so hard that I once travelled all the way to Ohio for a Shawn Mendes concert which was one of the dumbest moves I’ve made, but now I go to Cleveland all the time as a result bc I made friends in the city and love it there so thanks to Shawn for that

16. Come Away With Me by Norah Jones - I grew up on this song and I am obsessed with it and it reminds me so much of fall

17. Black by Pale Waves - okay every time i hear the lyrics “and i know i’m argumentative/why did i make you feel so wrong/all i ever seem to do is ache for you/i love you but i know that it’s overdue” i do have a crisis. will be laying on the floor and staring at the ceiling for the next 3-5 business days. don’t text.

18. Lost & Found by Lianne La Havas - i swear we’re not in my sad playlist but god this song gets me emotional

19. Stay (Spotify Single) by 5SOS - best cover they’ve ever done and coincidentally also the best cover ever done by anyone. facts only. 

20. Sinning With You by Sam Hunt - i hate country but i love sam hunt and this song is........everything. 

okay sorry i Do Not Stop Talking thank you again for tagging me!! I am technically “at work” on my couch while doing this but if you want to do this, consider this your tag, go for it

[tayegi]

The new chapter of “New Rules” is soo good! I can’t get the mental image of the oc in a hotdog costume out of my head :D I really liked that Kookie and Y/N are getting closer in a platonic kind of way (?) and don’t get me started with the rest of your Bts characterisation. Yoongi was on point and Hobi... Let’s just say I‘m looking forward to future interactions with the oc... ( and maybe some jealous Jungcock 👀) Anyway, I’m so excited to see what comes next and please stay healthy!❤️

ahahahahhaa thank youuuuu. im so glad that you think the characterizations are on point! this makes me so happy and i hope you stay healthy too

Anonymous said:EEP I AM SO EXCITED FOR HOBI BEING IN NEW RULES! HE WILL BE THE LIGHT TO THE O/C's GLOOMY LIFE (not gloomy, but seems like some shitty things happened to her and she needs & deserves joy in her life and the perfect person for that is hobi)!!!! J-HOPEEEEEE!

LOL everyone is so excited for hobi! u will see what his deal is soon :) 

Anonymous said:I’m dying because of the ending for chapter 4 of New Rules. I relate so hard

;) ;) ;) me too 

Anonymous said:Hi Lu! I just want to say I love the new chapter. It was so much fun to read!! Thank you so much for creating these wonderful stories for all of us readers ♡ please continue to be the wonderful you 😄

awwww thank you so much bb

Anonymous said:just got home from work and poured a glass of wine and ready to relax by myself the rest of the night, and seriously seeing that new rules ch 4 came out made it so much better!!!!

LOL that is my dream night and hope u enjoy :) 

Anonymous said:I really appreciate how you write the oc & jungkook's relationship & how they're slowly getting more comfortable with each other (lowkey excited for hobi's role even if he's the bad guy here. sucker for soccer players 💜)

haha thank you so much! and me too D: while everyone thirsted over football players, i was always a soccer hoe so i couldnt resist making hobi and jk soccer players lololol

Anonymous said:I love u so so much omg everything about the new chapter for new rules is absolutely amazing. I loved the point on feminism, the cute drunk scenes, and the intro of hobi as captain! Tae should tag along and go to those away games to get some photos of hobi’s ass ;)) Ill be elated if tae and hobi end up hooking up or dating (esp since the way u portrayed tae during the feminist scene made me so fond of him! He deserves some good dick!). Thanks so much for giving us another great update :)

eeep thank you!!!! and lol a lot of ppl ship vhope and i love me!!! me too lowkey! and tae is just soft. hes like the gay best friend to the OC except not exactly gay and i love their dynamic :) thanks so much for ur message! 

Anonymous said:"we'll see what's his deal soon" "well they are good friends, for now" not only I can feel ur smirk but also it's making me start theories and I'm dying bc I'm so bad at this but will it stop me? HELL NAH —❄️🐰Anonymous said:I really love how friendly Taetae is in the last chapter HE'S SERIOUSLY THE CUTESTT and yoongi being yoongi xD but I can't help but think about all the shit that's about to happen after y/n told Mijoo and Jimin that "it's complicated" and yoongi straight ass calling her jk's girlfriend, what if her red-head friend hears about that and comes for her ass bc she told her to stay away and let her tame the junkcock.. I mean what could she even do about that but it still gives me anxiety —❄️🐰

hahahahaha yessss. tbh i think tae is my fave character!!! and yessss. guys dont forget about hyejin! she’s an important character, even tho she wasnt in ch 4 haha. You will see what happens soon! *cue evil smirk*

Anonymous said:I loved how you described mijoo's concern for OC after hot dog nite. omg Im so soft for OC and mijoo's friendship and how much they care for each other TT FORGET JK AND JM IM SHIPPING OCXMIJOO

omg youre the first person to mention that! yes, i really dont think mijoo is fake like ppl say bc it’s hard to fake that amount of concern :/ AND ME TOO!!! CHICKS OVER DICKS!!!

[rookiewithachance]

tag gameeee

i was tagged by the ever so lovely @theyugiohtrashcan <3 A- age: 19! B- birthplace: fukin Florida C- current time: 11:55 D- drink you had last: water bb! I had to take my meds this morning lol E- easiest person to talk to: back atcha @theyugiohtrashcan​ F- favorite song: kdsjsalkdsga fuckin idk man. I love music. Probably something from Be More Chill or Hamilton right now. I’ll put it as a tie between Michael in the Bathroom, Two Player Game, One Last Time, and Wait For It bc i cant decide  G- grossest memory: yikes uh...... idk I tend to block out most of the gross things but I remember all too vividly when I got my wisdom teeth removed they gave me a pain medication that had sulfur in it, which I was allergic to but didn’t know?? So Kat was over keeping me company while I whined about my mouth hurting when I got really sick. Like, throwing up then sitting on the bathroom floor with a cool washcloth on your forehead waiting for the next wave to hit you level of sick. She was htg a real trooper and a sweet heart, and stayed with me until the worst of it passed, and I couldn’t sleep, eat, or take any pain medication for the next... idk like twelve hours or so??? while we waited for the stuff to get out of my system H- horror yes or horror no: No but lowkey a little yes. I’ve been watching less of it recently which helps my mental health but I still get that little thrill from horror even though it gives me nightmares and only feeds into my anxiety????? its a mess lol J- jealous of people: Ya dude. I’ve had a jealousy problem for years, that I think stems from my anxiety K- killed someone: it was the summer of 1963........................... L- love at first sight or should i walk by again?: Kat seems to have stolen my views on this: No, but I can be drawn to someone at first sight, usually because of what they’re doing or what they’re saying that I happen to overhear but I’m not really attracted to... looks?? If that makes sense?? I mean I have a “type” bc literally every girl i’ve dated has been kinda similar (primarily short and chubby.............. ehehe), but I won’t date someone or be attracted to them just because of that?? If that makes sense?? M- middle name: Ann. boring i know N- number of siblings: none bb oNLY CHILD SWAG O- one wish: uh?? i guess to not have to worry about money. while it would be nice to magically become neurotypical, i don���t feel like??? I would be the same person??? not that my mental illnesses are part of my personality, but they’ve taught me a lot and those lessons are a huge part of who i am today so.... yeah, probably the money thing. either always having enough money for what i need or just. living in a post-currency society. either is good P- person you called last: the last person who called me was my mother, but the last person I myself called.....? I think it was my manager Q- question you’re always asked: does Kelli is gay? or just stuff about my sexuality in general, especially being a gray ace lesbian. that confuses a lot of people in the south.......... part of the reason i’m going to college somewhere a little less southern tbh R- reason to smile: FUCKIN LIFE DUDE. LISTEN OK IM A PHILOSOPHY MAJOR AND I GET H*CKED UP ABOUT HTIS. LIFE IS A GODDAMN ANOMALY AND THERES NO REASON THAT ANY OF US SHOULD BE OR ARE HERE AND YET W E F U C K I N A R E. THATS SHITTIN AWESOME DUDE. IM HERE HAVIN A GOOD TIME WITH A GOOD FRIEND CHILLIN OUT AND WERE BOTH HERE AND ALIVE AND WE EXIST EXACTLY THE WAY WE ARE THAT HTATS HELLA GUYS S- song you sang last: ksjafldkjalksgje it was probably something Hamilton, Kat’s right. was it Take a Break??? probablu T- top 3 fictional characters: i cant choose........................ uhhh i guess Michael Mell from Be More Chill (Jeremy and Christine are close seconds, but i need my Nerdy Depressed Anxious Chubby Son) probably tops the charts right now, Humbee from MINIBOSS (an excellent comic on dA, i suggest it to everyone), aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand Nightcrawler/Kurt Wagner from X-Men! U- underwear color: //has to check// ok yeah i was right, they’re blue with bright yellow lacey trim V- vacation: uh..........................??? im not sure what this question means, but Kat answered it like her ideal vacation so... idk probably going to a big city like NYC or Seattle (which is on my bucket list to visit) with money to throw around and just. go see shows and explore. W- when’s your birthday: June 15! It just happened lol X- x-rays: uhhhhhhhhhhh. the last one I had was earlier this year when I was really really sick and I had to get checked for pneumonia??? i didnt have pneumonia but i had strep that i didn’t take care of properly which could have turned into pneumonia but turned into bronchitis instead Y- your favorite food: fuckin. idk man. i like food. Z- zodiac sign: im a mf gemini

and can i get uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh i’ll tag @ifyoujustbelieveinme, @sorry--imfangirling, @sonofdysonsphere, @kaiju-genital-thunderstorm, @fangirltothefullest, @fanofallthingsadorkable, and @consistant-screaming-to-the-void! Plus anyone else who wants to do this, if you’re looking for a reason to do one of these, this is it!! IM TAGGING YOU BITCH, just put me as the person who tagged you bc i wanna see it :3

[miamstix]

Alphabet Tags

Tagged by @avikat​

A) Age: 16 
B) Biggest fear: Hammer head sharks.  Why are their eyes so far apart 
C) Current time: 1:08 am uhh 
D) Drink you last had: Sprite 
E) Everyday starts with: A single tear 
F) Favorite song: Too many but maybe Rainbow wine by The Buttertones?  I love that song 
G) Ghost: Those awesome ghosts from OFF 
H) Hometown: TA Florida ;( 
I) In love with: My cat 
J) Jealous of: idk man 
K) Killed someone: Do bugs count 
L) Last time you cried: Dude I’m crying right now its really hard to see the screen 
M) Middle name: Cyann (my mother is a poor fool but so am I) 
N) Number of siblings: 7?  At least? 
O) One wish: I wish I had 3 arms and was 10 feet tall and the best player on the football team 
P) Person you last talked to: Aron 
Q) Question you are always asked: “Why is your dog so ugly” 
R) Reason to smile:  That one scene in Vampire’s Kiss where Nicolas Cage eats an actual live roach 
S) Song you last sung: Keep Me under your Arms by Modern Vices 
T) Time you woke up: like 10?  I don’t have a job rip 
U) Underwear color: What are you talking about how could you forget you idiot we’re matching today  
V) Verse of a song you like: 

A mask of my own face I'd wear that I'd wear that mask of my own face I'd wear that I'd wear it to a hoedown, and I'd dance with all the belles And none of them would know that I was secretly myself I'd rob my apartment and I wouldn't give a damn I'd blame it on the person that nobody knows I am I look into my eyeholes, what do I see? Look into my eyeholes, what do you see? I look into my eyeholes and what do I see? A handsome motherfucker motherfucking looking back at me


W) Worst habit: Nail chewing 
X) X rays you’ve had: My wrist 
Y) Your favorite food: asparagus or instant fried rice 
Z) Zodiac: Aries

Not tagging anyone bc social anxiety and it’s 1 AM

[klanceinspace]

Chapters: 9/? Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron), Allura/Shiro (Voltron), Hunk/Shay (Voltron), Pidge/Sarcastic Remarks Characters: Keith (Voltron), Lance (Voltron), Shiro (Voltron), Allura (Voltron), Hunk (Voltron), Pidge (Voltron), Matt Holt, Coran (Voltron), Shay (Voltron), Nyma (Voltron), Rolo (Voltron) Additional Tags: figure skating AU, sports AU, Slow Burn, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Sports, idek we just started chatting about it one day and now its THIS, also i write a lot so it's gonna be like 200k words i stg, i'll just add tags as we go along, Anxiety, (all anxiety attacks have trigger warnings!), Pining, Mutual Pining, gay skating, is that a tag?, can now add: hockey!, i'm gonna reiterate this one bc people are currently realizing just how true it is, S L O W B U R N, Ice Skating, Friends to Lovers Summary:

Once upon a time, two Canadian nerds decided to start a figure skating au about their two space sons and their wonderful misfit friends. Ten pages of headcanons later we finally put electronic pen to electronic paper and created this monstrosity. This multi-chapter fic chronicles the lives of a hockey player named Keith who gets forcibly enlisted into figure skating lessons by his brother, Shiro, to "work on his footwork". There he meets a pompous - yet talented - figure skater named Lance and gets swept away by both the sport and the skater.

Enjoy the ride because it's only just started.