#they can’t leave they’re all I’ve got

[fluentmoviequoter]

Skepticism

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!(NFL)football player!reader

Summary: Tim is skeptical about the first female NFL player. When he shares his opinion with you, he doesn't realize that you are the woman he's talking about.

Warnings: fluff, Tim gets embarrassed and apologizes a bunch, flirting

Word Count: 2.1k+ words

A/N: Bodyguard Tim👀 If this reads like Eric Winter talking about sports in He Said, Ella Dijo just remember that he's Tim Bradford. They're pretty much the same.

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

The history of the NFL has changed forever! The first female player has been drafted into the NFL, in the Los Angeles Rams’ 13th pick.

Since the moment your name was called at the NFL draft, your life has been turned upside down. Being the first female player in the league has resulted in unending news coverage, mixed praise and backlash, and unescapable attention. People know your name now, and as you prepare to change your life forever by putting on a Rams jersey, you can only hope that the skeptics are wrong about you and what you’ll do on the field.

“Dinner tomorrow!” Lucy yells at Tim. “Be there!”

“I will,” he replies. “Unfortunately.”

“Be nice,” Angela chides.

“You can always back out and stay home to watch the game,” Nolan points out.

“If they’ll start showing the games again,” a nearby officer interjects. “Everything on ESPN has been about the chick that got drafted. Even during the games, she’s all the commentators can talk about.”

“There’s a girl in the NFL?” Lucy asks. “Finally!”

“Wait, who?” Tim inquires. “I stopped watching the draft before it was over, but how’d I miss that?”

“You must’ve been very busy,” the officer replies. “She’s everywhere, man. Football got ruined. They can’t leave anything sacred.”

Tim doesn’t add to the misogynistic view of his colleague but knows that he has some research to do. Football history has certainly changed, but Tim won’t decide on how he feels about a woman playing professionally until he learns more for himself.

“The Rams, man,” the officer laments.

The moment Tim arrives home after his shift, he turns on ESPN. SportsCenter is on, and he’s unsurprised to see a woman’s name projected behind the men at the desk.

“No, John, what we’re failing to consider is her history,” Rocky Boiman points out. “Her college playing record is better than the twelve male drafts ahead of her.”

“The point remains that a historically male-dominant sport is supposed to be male-dominant,” John Anderson argues.

“If we take the gender out, the size difference, everything except how well these people play, she blends right in,” Tedy Bruschi states. “Regardless of whether or not she should play, she can play, and she does it very well.”

“I’ve been watching her in action since her senior year of high school,” Rocky adds. “If anybody has what it takes to be here, we’re looking at her.”

“Until she gets hit,” John comments. “There may not be regulations against female players, but statistically, she is more likely to be injured.”

“Then she would’ve been injured in college,” Tedy interrupts. “At the end of the day, this comes down to one of two things. Either you don’t think women should be in the NFL, for whatever reason, or you’re ignoring the facts and judging her prematurely. I will end with this, if you think this woman should quit before she starts, you’re going to be proved wrong.”

The SportsCenter logo appears on the screen before Sarah Barshop of the Rams and Matt Bowen, an analyst, begin reviewing your stats and playing history. You played in college, but your stature and your above average statistics alone don’t convince Tim. Not because you’re a woman, but because he’s seen better odds. He’ll never say that you don’t deserve a spot on the team, but he won’t believe that you can make a difference to the team until he sees it. If you can prove it at all.

“They’re talking about you again,” your friend says.

You look up from your playbook diagram and smile. The men on SportsCenter have been talking about you every chance they get. It’s not just them, though, everyone with a pulse and an ounce of interest in football has an opinion of you.

“Still arguing about if I’ll get my collarbone snapped in the first game?” you guess. “Or have they moved on to female hormones?”

“Most of them are defending you. Your stats are all they seem to care about,” your friend explains. “Maybe you will have a fan base bigger than me and my cats.”

“But you’re all I need.”

“That and a Rams paycheck.”

You laugh and return your attention to the book before you. You’re entering a new world with a lot to prove, so you’re going to be ready for anything.

“Hey, we should go to dinner tomorrow night. We haven’t had time to celebrate with all of the interviews and everything.”

“That sounds great. Just don’t pick a sports bar.”

Tim looks away from the football game to check his watch. He’s got half an hour until Angela, Wesley, Lucy, Nolan, Nyla, James, Wade, and Luna are supposed to be here for dinner. Although Tim doesn’t remember whose decision it was to meet for an “end of the hardest week this year” dinner, he agreed to come. When he arrived nearly an hour early because he had nothing better to do, he found a seat at the bar and got invested in a game.

The restaurant isn’t busy, but the bar is nearly at capacity. It seems that everyone who wasn’t arrested this past week is now here, watching football and listening to updates on you. Every chance the announcers and reporters get, they bring you up. Tim refuses to change his opinion until he sees you in action. Your highlight reel has become an hourly regular on ESPN, but you’ll have to get through training and into next season before any of it will truly matter.

“What do you think about it?” the bartender asks as he wipes the spot beside Tim.

“I think we won’t know until we see her play,” Tim answers. “If we see her play.”

“My boss is convinced she’ll lead them to the Super Bowl, but I don’t think it’ll be that straightforward.”

“It never is,” Tim agrees.

“I also think it’s a little strange they don’t show her face. She was at the draft, but everything since then has been her in her uniform or at least her helmet.”

Someone yells for the bartender, and he nods at Tim before he walks away. It is strange, but Tim assumes that they’re trying to maintain the public image of you as a football player, and not just a woman.

As you enter the restaurant, you receive a text from your friend. Running late, so don’t have fun until I get there. You shake your head at the short message and ask the hostess for a seat at the bar while you wait. She points you toward the entrance, and you focus on finding a seat and avoiding any unnecessary spills as you navigate the crowded area.

“Excuse me?” you ask a man seated at the bar. “Can I sit here for just a few minutes?”

He turns toward you and nods, and your responding smile isn’t only gratitude. The man is incredibly attractive, you realize. As you sit on the stool beside him, you notice his attention is on the television screens over the bar. Several of them are broadcasting college football games, yet you see your name appear in the closed captions.

“Which game looks the best?” you ask him.

“Penn State and Missouri game isn’t bad,” he answers.

“Missouri’s better, I assume.”

“Aren’t they always?” he asks lightly.

Penn State’s coach calls a time out and you ask the bartender for a glass of water as the screen changes to the commentators. One of them mentions a play you made in college, and you roll your eyes. You don’t mind the attention, but they’re taking what should be about the players playing now and making it about you. The man beside you scoffs, and your smile grows.

“It never ends,” he mumbles under his breath, and he spins his bottle in one hand.

“Tired of hearing about her?” you ask.

“I mean, I don’t want to sound like every other man in this city, but, yeah, a little.”

“I get that. Skepticism isn’t a bad thing; you can have an opinion.”

“I’m just not sure I can have an opinion until she starts playing. Yeah, her college history was good, but she’s not in college anymore.”

“Right,” you agree.

“There’s a reason there hasn’t been a woman in a sport that intense. Injuries would be detrimental to her and the team,” he points out. “Not to mention the fact that we’ve only seen the good, every time someone tries to mention something she can’t do well, they get cut off with don’t judge her because she’s a woman.”

“Not that I don’t agree with the injury thing, but, I mean, women have been playing rugby for years and it’s just as intense.”

“Yeah, but that’s with other women. Seems like there’s just too much at stake for one girl to make history in the NFL. She hasn’t even proved anything yet other than the fact that women can be drafted.”

“And you don’t think she can prove more?” you ask. “Skeptical that she makes it through the next part?”

He lifts his glass and shrugs, which you take as a firm yes.

“I played football in high school,” he adds. “And I feel like I can see talent when it’s there. She has talent, I’m not arguing that, but I don’t see NFL-worthy talent yet.”

Someone says your name, and you turn. It’s a college-aged girl, and she smiles shyly as she asks for a picture. You immediately agree and slide out of your seat to hug her and take the picture.

As you pose with her, you notice that the man beside you is staring at his bottle with his lips pressed together. Maybe you should have introduced yourself the moment your name came up, but you wanted to hear the truth. And the fact that he didn’t just say no, she can’t do it gave you a boost of hope that you can. Skepticism is better than complete doubt.

“Sorry,” you tell him as you return to the stool beside him.

“No, I’m sorry,” he replies quickly. “I probably should have recognized you, but what I said- I mean, you’ve got talent, and I shouldn’t have said that you didn’t. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you interrupt with a laugh. “I needed someone to be honest to my face for once.”

“You’re getting plenty of direct negative opinions,” he points out. “And I’m sorry.”

“Now you’re apologizing for every other football fan. Seriously, it’s no problem, no hard feelings.”

“But I-“

“You’re a cop, right?” you interrupt, gesturing to the badge on his hip. He nods, and you answer, “Truth and justice is your thing. You made some good points, too. I’ll use ‘em in my training to prove all the other skeptics wrong.”

“Which I believe you can! Seriously, though, can I buy you a drink or something? Anything to make it up to you?”

“Make what up?” you question, smiling as you lay your hand over his forearm. “I forgive you if that’s what you need to hear, but you didn’t do anything worth apologizing for.”

You move your hand to offer a handshake and properly introduce yourself. He inhales deeply before he shakes your hand.

“I’m Tim Bradford,” he says.

“And you’re a cop, I play football,” you finish. “Now that we know each other, can I ask what you’re doing here alone?”

“Guy like me in a place like this?” he jokes. “I’m waiting to meet some friends from work.”

You nod and say, “I’m meeting a friend, too. A little celebration of sorts.”

“Can I ask a personal question?”

“Sure,” you agree.

“What made you get into football? Why it over any other sport?”

“Bear Bryant,” you answer seriously.

“Really?” Tim questions with his eyes narrowed.

“You’ll have to watch my ESPN special to find out. That or we could do this again another time, without the accidental meeting.”

“People are going to think you’re in this sport just to meet men,” Tim replies.

“Who says I’m not?” you tease. “But, seriously, you’re great, and I bet you could tell me how to win a Super Bowl.”

“You’re the football pro,” he points out. “I’m just a cop.”

You nod and look away, disappointed by his implied rejection. Suddenly, though, you remember what your agent told you.

“Well, if you don’t want to go on a date… I do need a bodyguard on my security team.”

Tim’s eyebrows raise as he turns in his seat to face you. “Are you serious?”

“I am.”

You look away when your friend calls your name, and you wave at her before you stand. Stalling at Tim’s side, you add, “Think about it. I’d love to flirt with a bodyguard.”

“I will,” Tim promises softly.

“Come find me if you decide tonight.”

You smile at Tim and grip his arm kindly in place of a farewell. Tim Bradford believes in you and is considering your offered position of bodyguard, so you know you can get a Super Bowl ring this year. No matter how skeptical everyone else is.

[lovingeddiediaz]

9-1-1 rant. I have a lot of mixed feelings about this season and a lot of them aren’t good. Love this show, I’ve been watching live since season 3 but yikes that finale was a mess imo definitely one of my least favorites for sure. Very underwhelming. The whole season in general was wacky.

I’ve been feeling this way for at least 2 seasons now. I feel like 911 has been trying to fit these LARGE stories that they don’t have time for or are failing to make time for in these episodes. I get that this season was shortened, but if they can’t properly flush out a story in time, they should figure something else out instead of simplifying it and cutting out so many parts that it loses the build up and the emotion and captivation.

So much happens off screen that I feel like should be SHOWN. like we didn’t get to see Chris upset in the moment when he saw the Shannon lookalike, the scene cut out after he said mom. All we see is just him in his bed telling Eddie to go away later. We didn’t see the confrontation with Marisol and Eddie and her leaving, just an offhand comment of her not coming back later. We didn’t see the phone call that had Buck rushing over. We didnt get to see Eddie at his house alone after Chris leaves, just him leaving with his grandparents and boom, cut scene. We didn’t get to see hen or Chim at Bobby’s bedside.

We don’t get to see the aftermath of ANYTHING. The show keeps cutting the scenes just short and it has been pissing me off so much. They’re missing out on so much depth bc they’re doing too goddamn much at once and too quick.

All action, no build up or payoff. Just one thing after another. You don’t even have time to let your emotions settle and follow the characters bc it’s over so soon. You don’t get to worry and grieve alongside the characters. Bobby almost died and then boom he’s fine again like nothing happened. Like what am I supposed to be emotional over? He almost died in the desert just a couple episodes before that and then he was fine, no mention of it again.

Idk it seems like this show has been doing a lot of telling instead of showing when it comes to what are supposed to be emotionally charged scenes, like Buck saying how he was worried he was gonna lose Bobby but we didn’t really see that. All we got was a teary eye when Buck told Eddie he was in the hospital. Didn’t get to see the team actually save bathena in the beginning, so seeing them get the medals held no weight, like cool we’re told they saved them but we didn’t see shit. We didn’t get to see any of the madney wedding buildup like picking flower arrangements and a venue and dress/tuxedo shopping or anything like that, just assume off screen obviously XD

Buck’s sexuality arc being reduced to background noise also sucks. He kissed a man and then they said ok cool good enough moving on now. Not even bothering to deepen/develop his relationship with Tommy (are they even together or are they still going on dates?? No fuckin clue lmao), instead of a meaningful conversation between them in the finale it’s turned into a sexual joke like come ON, besides the first kiss and the second kiss that Buck initiates, their scenes are meaningless imo and that’s sad bc I was so excited for this storyline in the beginning but again, there’s nothing there. No substance.

And don’t even get me started on henren’s storyline. How many times are they gonna recycle the ‘person gets in the way of henren expanding their family’ bullshit before they finally get creative and think of something new? What is that, 3 times now? It’s just annoying at this point lmao I’m over it.

Why is Tim so against happy storylines? I know he said something along the lines of people wouldn’t watch if the characters were happy, but I think that’s bullshit. If you can’t captivate an audience with positive stories then I think you have a skill issue. Big drama and angst doesn’t equal good story telling and writing. Couldn’t even give madney a nice wedding like wtf.

Idk. I hope next season is thought out better.

[purinfelix]

white ferrari ˚⟡˖ ࣪

pairing: joao felix x reader summary: you don’t really know how to respond when a familiar face shows up at your apartment doorstep, one you haven’t seen in almost half a year since a fated summer of both love and heartbreak. warnings: just a lot of angst <//3 w/c: 2.7k

a/n: okay i tried my hand at angst once more because I've been feeling unreasonably sad about joao leaving barca ... (this is all inspired by a singular white ferrari x joao edit i saw on tiktok) - hope you all enjoy!!

Get home, throw your keys onto the counter top and listen to the echo they make throughout your empty apartment. Kick your shoes off, undress, shower and then stare at yourself in the mirror for a little too long. If you’re feeling up to it, fix yourself something decent to eat, but most nights you go straight to throwing yourself into bed and scrolling on your phone in the dark until you feel tired enough to sleep, whenever that may be.

Sure, it’s a bit of a boring routine - some might even argue it’s sad - but it’s one you’ve grown far too use to to change up now. You’re just about to get to the latter steps of said routine when you hear a knock at your door - a sound that, at this time of night especially, is unusual.

Tentatively, you approach the door and crack it open just enough to whisper scream at whatever idiot is bothering you at this hour. That is, of course, before you realise it’s him.

He’s gotten a little tanner than the last time you say him, but of course that was last summer now, a bright memory in your mind that seems so far away you struggle to believe that he’s really here, in front of you. His hair’s the same, a little messier and longer albeit, and you really wish you could just get a look at his face but he’s trying his best to avoid eye contact with you, and you can’t help but pick up on the air of shame he’s giving off.

“Do you have any idea what time it is, Joao?” you scoff quietly through the tiny crack in your door, but he doesn’t do anything other than offer a smile that is somehow equal parts sad and apologetic. Immediately you feel awful for trying to lighten the mood, but you can’t help it, as bittersweet as it is you’re actually stupidly excited to see him here.

That is, until you open the door wider for him and notice the luggages surrounding him, waiting to be dragged in - so you’re just another pit stop after all, he really hasn’t changed. You shut the door without mentioning it though, following him through the dark as he trudges in. You don’t know how to feel about the fact that you don’t need to tell him to take his shoes off at the door, where to put his bags, or even where your bedroom is. It’d almost be sweet, if thinking of all the times he’d been to your place before didn’t feel like twisting a knife through an already bled-dry wound.

“So, are you going to tell me why you’re here?” you call out, following him through the darkness, worry brewing in the pit of your stomach.

“Have you been keeping up with me?” he says, his voice soft as he finally turns around to face you, having made it to your bedroom.

“You mean, at your new club? Yeah, I’ve been trying to here and there, but I do have my own life after all,” you reply, desperate to make him understand that you’ve been trying to move on.

He offers an understanding nod before glancing around your room, “you got new bedsheets.”

“Yeah, quite a while ago actually but, I guess you wouldn’t have known.”

You’re still standing in the doorway of your bedroom, your arms folded over your chest, not really knowing why you suddenly feel so defensive at having him in your house, after so long of not seeing each other.

“Right,” he says, sitting at the edge of your bed a little awkwardly, as if it’s his first time doing so - and you both know it isn’t.

“Joao, what’s going o-”

“They’re letting me go,” he interrupts you, his eyes glued to the floor as he does.

“Wh- like the club? They’re not signing you again? But why? I thought you were doing well?” The questions pour out of your mouth before you realise it’s probably best not to pry, at least given the glimpse of his defeated expression you’re offered.

“I really wish I knew,” he sighs, “my old club is demanding a crazy amount of money for me though, so it might be that.”

Your heart softens a bit seeing him like this, and it suddenly occurs to you that perhaps the reason he came over tonight had less to do with the fact that he was seeing you and more with the fact he had to see someone. If you’re being honest, you know you should shrug and tell him ‘too bad’ and there’s a tiny part of you that wants to ask him why he never called after that one night, but you don’t.

Instead, you walk over to your bed, sit next to him and bring your hand up to cup his face. You let your thumb graze over it gently, trying to ignore the ache you feel in your heart when he looks up at you with such a gentleness in his eyes you feel like you might fall in love with him - again.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come over tonight, I just, wanted to see you,” he mumbles into the palm of your hand, and it’s only now you notice he’s leaning in closer.

“It’s okay, I’ve been wanting to see you too,” you hear yourself admit, and it’s not until the words leave your lips do you realise how much you actually mean them. Your hand moves to stroking his hair, and you can visibly see him melt under your touch.

It makes you think of all those nights the two of you spent together, and how they were a little over half a year ago now. When he was the bright-eyed and bushy-tailed new loan to one of Spain’s biggest football clubs that you met at a beachside bar one summer night. How he almost seemed to glow in the sunset when he walked you home, telling you about how he was fitting in with his new teammates, how much better this club was than his old one, how much happier he was. And how happy you were to just listen to him, watch his beaming smile and the adoration in his eyes, to get a taste of his life.

Because, a taste was really all you ever got. It’s not like you were expecting the two of you to get married and live happily ever after but it tugged at your heart whenever he would show up at your doorstep or happen to bump into you at the farmers market he always knew you went to. He would show up almost every second day, and love you like it was breathing, only to slink away the next morning with whispers of “Just don’t tell anyone,” and “You understand, right?”. Since he was a big footballer, and a younger one at that, he couldn’t have anything damaging his chances right now, which was why the two of you could only meet in privacy. You hated it, and the sour feeling it left in your gut every time you watched him close your apartment door at early hours of the morning, but it wasn’t like you had any other option than to believe him - since your only other choice was to lose him, and that was out of the question.

But still, you managed to mess it up - that one warm evening when the two of you were walking side by side along the beach, as you so often seemed to do. Walking close enough that people knew you were friendly, but far enough so that no one would suspect anything more. You can remember looking down at his arms, which he show proudly showed off by rolling up the sleeves of the button up he was wearing, and wanting nothing more than to hold his hand - if not for the physical contact, then to show everyone on this beach and beyond that he was yours. But you knew you couldn’t, so instead you resigned to asking slightly uncomfortable questions, all to make him think a little bit more about your relationship - and by extension, you.

“So,” you hummed, eyes looking down at the imprints of your feet in the sand, “do you think we’ll ever be like, a proper couple?” You cringe a little at how childish your wording sounds, but you’d be lying if you said you knew any other way to word it.

Out of the corner of your eye you see him glance up at you, a little taken aback by the suddenly confrontational question. “Uh, I thought we spoke about this,” he begins, and you immediately feel stupid for even asking, “I can’t really do relationships at the moment.”

“Well, we didn’t really speak about it, it was more you telling me, but I guess yeah,” you mumble, and you don’t know why you’re suddenly feeling so snarky about this.

“I mean, this is fun, right? What we’re doing now? I don’t really have any problem with it.”

Of course he doesn’t*.*

“Right, I mean I don’t really either,” you’re lying through your teeth at this point, “but I mean, wouldn’t it be nice to do all the things couples do?”

“Sure,” he quips, and you can tell he hasn’t even give this, or you, a second thought before.

“So don’t you think there’ll be a day when we actually get to, you know, hold hands and stuff?”

“Maybe,” he hums, and you don’t miss the nonchalant, almost bored, tone in his voice and how he isn’t even bothering to look at you. “You know, I’m just really busy with training and games now so.”

”Right, I get that, I mean once this summer’s over I’ll have to get on with things too,” you say, giving him exactly the response you know he’s expecting.

He turns to look at you finally, giving you a proud smile at your words. “Well, I’ve got to get going now,” he says abruptly.

“Oh, okay,” you utter, “Call me, alright?”

“Yeah, sure!” he calls out, but he’s already halfway up the beach and you’re sure he’s barely heard you. And you stood there for a while, watching him jog away, your heart sinking further with every step he took in the opposite direction.

And of course, he never did call - and you’d be lying if you said you were totally surprised. Days turned into weeks and weeks into months, and all you were left with were those memories. Echoes of his laughter, the taste of his kisses, the ghost of his touch, all haunted your apartment which now felt hollow and empty. Of course, you managed to get on with it somehow, move past him and whatever had happened between you two.

And yet, here he was, again. You were still trying to shake the surprise that crept through you, but as you continued running your fingers through his hair in a soothing manner you can’t help but feel a sickening sense of deja vu. At seeing him here, at touching him like this, at him being here at all. Still, you think you could stay like this forever - but of course, you can’t and the heaviness in your heart urges you to break the silence before you do something you’re going to regret.

“So, what does this mean for you then?” It’s an awkward question, you can admit, and it shows on Joao’s face when he finally looks up at you - a little dazed and confused. You scoot a little bit away from him to lie down and he takes this as his sign to do the same.

“Hm? Oh, right,” he leans in a little closer as he lies down and for a split second you think he’s going to kiss you, but instead he just lays his head down on your chest as he continues to talk, “I guess I’ll have to go back to my old club, I mean I’ve got no choice.”

“Right,” you say curtly, caught off guard by the suddenly affectionate gesture - and what might be disappointment at the fact he didn’t kiss you. You don’t push him off though, instead you continue to stroke his hair, looking down at him as he talks.

“I just,” he sighs, “I just thought I was doing well you know?” You nod understandingly and you can hear the frustrated disappointment in his tone, one you recognise from the times he’d lost games before and come over to rant all about them.

“I’m sure you were amazing,” you try your best to reassure him, and it seems to work as he nods against your chest. There’s a beat of silence, you feel his breathing slow and it’s only then you realise how tired he is - from how slow his movements have been this entire evening. You’re about to give in and let him fall asleep on you, but it’s his turn to break the silence this time.

“Today was actually the last game of the season,” his words aren’t the clearest, and you can tell he’s basically half asleep, “the rest of the team wanted to go out to celebrate but I just couldn’t go. Seeing them all smiling and laughing while knowing they’ve got a place at that club next season while I don’t, I just couldn’t do it, you know?”

You wish you could tell him how much you understand that feeling, but instead you just hum in agreement.

“I wanted to see you instead,” and for about the billionth time that night you find yourself taken aback by his words. “I’m sorry I never called.”

“I really wish you had, I missed you,” you respond, a little weary of how honest you’re being suddenly. But he needs to hear this, needs to know how he made you feel when he suddenly disappeared after weeks of loving you like nothing else mattered.

That is of course, before you recognise the soft rising and falling of his chest - he’s fallen asleep. Your heart aches a little at the sight, and you let out a sigh when you realise you’ve got no choice other than to lay there, arms wrapped around him, until you fall asleep too. You reach over to switch off your singular lamp, drowning the two of you in darkness. Staring out your window at the cool evening sky, you think about how much has changed since the two of you last lay together like this. How with the changing of the seasons you two became such different people, and moved on to different parts of your lives - but through it all, your feelings for him never seemed to fade, and for the first time in months it felt like you were being gifted some reciprocity. You could only hope Joao had changed enough to not repeat his morning routines, slipping away and leaving you alone once more. But until then, you were content with this - this small moment, that might not have mattered at all in the grand scheme of things, but was enough for you and your aching heart. If nothing more, to lay here with him in the darkness, the rhythm of his soft breathing lulling you to sleep, was enough.

[steviescrystals]

i seriously need to get a new job and start making money again asap bc i cannot keep living at home much longer it’s driving me insane

(wrote an entire essay in the tags without meaning to oops)

[szczylpierdolony]

life is falling through my fingers more that usually

[pebblezone]

I love the Pokemon that we’re created just for double battles like not even a tatsugiri dondozo situation where it’s like solely battle strats but like a plusle minun or volbeat illumise situation like you give those to a duo and it’s like Yeah. Those are Partners

[mewnia]

I feel a lot better now <3

[branchiopod]

can’t sleep. keep making myself mad about shit

[exopelagic]

actually tiny thing this time that I would just like to complain about so I can go to bed :/

[j-esbian]

i keep finding Lore Discrepancies and i’m like. boy i hope they explain this one, but judging from the number of mistakes the game has already made, idk if they’re ever going to address it!

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

Anyone else feel like everyone else is moving on in life and ur just kinda around

[sizzlingsandwichperfection-blog]

john green quit tumblr because of the cock monologue

No, he didn’t.

This all happened a long time ago, and my memory is imperfect, but here’s my memory: The cock monologue certainly hurt my feelings! But when people are trying to force someone out of a virtual space, they sometimes resort to behavior that is similar to bullying except it’s not completely identical to bullying because the person they’re making fun of has a lot of power. (As someone who got bullied a lot in school, the feeling was similar in 2014 but it wasn’t identical--because I was aware of the fact that I was okay, that what was in danger was certain aspects of my identity/self-value that I treasured but not my entire personhood itself.)

Anyway, it hurt my feelings, and still hurts my feelings when I see it shared (it feels to me like a joke about my sexuality, although I understand other people don’t see it that way; but yeah, you don’t know much about my sexuality and I don’t really want you to but it feels like a joke about that to me, which just bums me out). 

But all of that stuff is a side effect of my job and having been successful at it, and I like my job. It is a great job. All jobs have aspects that suck. My job has fewer such aspects than other jobs I’ve had.

So yeah, I did not quit tumblr because of the cock monologue. (I also did not ask tumblr to make reblogs un-editable.) .

I quit tumblr because a few people started to make extremely specific threats. One might, for instance, send me an ask that featured a google streetview screenshot of my home alongside a plan for breaking into it.

I was super scared of these people (or possible person pretending to be a few people?) because they seemed to have a lot of knowledge about me and my family. We lived in a normal middle-class neighborhood in Indianapolis and I felt very exposed and nervous all the time in my real life, and eventually the freaked-out feeling just got too big and that’s why I quit tumblr.

(Edited to add: I am aware that prominent people sometimes use death threats against them to portray themselves as victims and protect themselves against justified criticism for their bigotry or abusive behavior or whatever. I don’t want to do that; it’s important to note that I have a lot of resources and power and so was able to, for instance, move to decrease the threat, which a lot of people can’t do. But I also feel like not talking about the experience honestly has not really helped me or anyone.)

I SHOULD’VE quit tumblr much earlier--I needed to realize that people weren’t comfortable with me in their virtual spaces and that to them I came across as cringey or even creepy, but at the time, I wasn’t nearly self-aware enough to leave for any of those reasons, and plus there was a lot of pressure from movie studios etc to stay on the social Internet so I could continue to promote my books and the stuff around them. So I didn’t quit when I should’ve, and as a result had and caused quite a few negative experiences for people. I’m sorry about the role I had in causing those negative experiences. I should’ve had a better understanding of not just how I experienced myself but also how other people might experience me. That’s something i’ve worked on over the years but still come up short on sometimes.

At any rate, I might delete this later because it makes me feel a bit like all my nerves are exposed to the air but I did just want to clarify that the, like, Tumblr Legend of this whole thing is at minimum a bit over simplified. 

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[povlnfour]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ CRASH LANDING (LN4)

pairing: lando norris x f!reader

summary: lando accidentally hits a stranger with his car — the internet can’t stop referring to it as a meet cute. (un)fortunately for lando, mclaren agree.

genre: comedy, fluffy

authors note: a continuation of the ending to beached! you don’t need to have read that to understand this, however it will give some insight to the mclaren matchmaker jokes <3 also in light of that, this is set a few races in the future! *oscarsgf user refers to the character in beached!

*faceclaim: keeahwah on ig (but please imagine her as you see fit!)

landonorris posted a tweet ੈ✩‧₊˚

tmz posted a tweet ੈ✩‧₊˚

landonorris posted tweets ੈ✩‧₊˚

lando’s texts with y/n ੈ✩‧₊˚

landonorris just posted ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by carlossainz55 and 203,488 others

landonorris practicing safe driving

view all comments

user you are so unserious sir

user SOOOO IS THAT THE GIRL HE HIT BC

user no clue but she’s CUTE

oscarpiastri @/fia look here

landonorris i will literally remind your girlfriend of your murder attempts when you first met

user it’s giving meet cute

user i’d read a fic on it

yourusername you literally drove off BEFORE I WAS EVEN IN THE CAR

landonorris IT WAS AN ACCIDENT I WAS DISTRACTED

user ASSUMING THIS IS HER???

user @/user CLICKING ON HER ACCOUNT IT DEFINITELY IS

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by bestfriend, landonorris and 3,907 others

yourusername monaco recap🇲🇨 successfully didn’t get hit by too many cars!

view all comments

user AS IF LANDO HIT THE HOTTEST PERSON IVE EVER SEEN

user nah this is actually a full meet cute i’m sorry this is the shit you see in romcoms

bestfriend still can’t believe you didn’t take compensation but accepted a lunch date instead

yourusername can you blame me

user @/yourusername oh girl no one can you are so real for that

friend1 wait till everyone finds out you’re only there for another 4 days

user WHAT. i can’t have them separated already😶

user parasocial relationship with lando ended y/n is my new idol now

twitter reacts ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted stories ੈ✩‧₊˚

[captions:

photo 1: lando paid for me to get my nails done !!!

photo 2: :D

photo 3: ur all romanticizing my life rn but this is my view in a fancy ass restaurant]

texts with your best friend ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by landonorris and 11,276 others

yourusername final days in heaven. i’ll miss so much about this place

👤 tagged bestfriend, landonorris

view all comments

user wait she doesn’t live in monaco?? she’s leaving??? just after i’ve gotten attached to her and lando???

bestfriend please come back to visit asap i cannot go too long without my y/n cuddles

landonorris seconded

user um lando sir,,, seconded the whole thing? cuddles included?

user this cannot be the end of the meet cute i refuse to

landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by oscarpiastri and 286,425 others

landonorris safe to say i’ve had a pretty good break between races

view all comments

user a whole post dedicated to her with THAT caption? oh yep they’re whipped

user please tell me y’all are going to stay in contact?

user my heart is shattering already

mclaren 🧡

user MCLAREN PLEASE YOU’VE DONE IT ONCE BEFORE

texts with lando ੈ✩‧₊˚

mclaren interview ੈ✩‧₊˚

[transcript:

o: safe to say you’ve had a pretty interesting break before this race

l: hey let me remind you what happened for you over winter break!

o: okay but i didn’t literally hit my girlfriend with my car!

l: oh so you finally asked her out officially?

o: stop deflecting!

l: okay okay! yeah safe to say i had a nice time. always need a bit of a change in life!

o: so how are things going now?

l: (awkwardly) well you know how it’s… yeah

o: ah i get it. quite literally been there done that got the t shirt. but hey you did say all that when i got my big moment about mclaren—

l: no no no don’t give them any ideas! they’re listening!]

mclaren just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by 203,467 people

mclaren the boys are back! don’t forget to check out the new interview on our channel where lando and oscar talk all things hopes for the second half of the season, workouts and… girls?

view all comments

user mclaren. mclaren look at me. you know what you have to do

mclaren 👀

user when oscar asked him about y/n… i wanted to cry he looked so sad are things over between them?

oscarsgf @/oscarpiastri you’re such a gossip

oscarpiastri you love me for it

oscarsgf @/oscarpiastri you know what i’m thinking?

oscarpiastri @/oscarsgf plotting?

oscarsgf @/oscarpiastri plotting!

user what on earth is going on…

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by oscarsgf and 29,481 others

yourusername lately :)

view all comments

user you are so ! gorgeous !

user i can see why lando is obsessed

user speaking of… where is our favorite brit in the likes☹️

oscarsgf pretty girl!!!

yourusername oh?!? thank u cutie!!!

user ^ oh their plotting is in progress???

mclaren you’d look good in orange👀🧡

landonorris posted a tweet ੈ✩‧₊˚

an email from mclaren ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted stories ੈ✩‧₊˚

mclaren just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by 287,456 people

mclaren it’s race day🫡

view all comments

user WHO IS THE GIRL

user IS THAT WHO I THINK IT IS

user PLEASE TELL ME THATS Y/N

user LOOK AT HER STORIES ITS DEFINITELY HER

user SOMEONE WHO IS THERE KEEP US UPDATED PLEASE

user just posted a thread ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 106,544 others

yourusername i don’t know guys, do you think he’s cute?

view all comments

user OH MY GOD FINALLY

landonorris i will hit you with my car again

yourusername is that a challenge mr. norris?

landonorris @/yourusername oh you better run fast

yourusername @/landonorris well duh cause you don’t know how to do the speed limit

user i love them. i love them so much.

oscarsgf omg can we force the boys to do mclaren double dates

landonorris leave this comment section now

yourusername @/landonorris too late we’re already texting

landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by yourusername, mclaren and 300,091 others

landonorris we are successful victims of mclarens matchmaking services

view all comments

user THEYVE DONE IT AGAINNN

user new fav couple fr

oscarpiastri oh how quickly you all forget me

user @/oscarpiastri WE COULD NEVER

user clearly i need to work for mclaren to get a cute gf

oscarpiastri @/oscarsgf is the second photo giving you flashbacks as well

oscarsgf they’re stealing our thing

yourusername thank you for posting the nice park date photo of me

landonorris well in all the others you’re mid cartwheel

mclaren glad to be of service🧡 anyone else? @/patriciooward how are you doing?

landonorris i’m gonna stop you right there

———————

a/n: WELL. hello friends. i said i wasn’t gonna post a one shot for a while, then this happened. i just hope its up to standard! i’m a little rusty in my writing considering everything!

in regards to new works, gonna be working on getting my wips out soon, and maybe popping some new smaus out at the same time as they’re easy and quick-ish for me to work on considering everything going on! do forgive me if i do some random family orientated stuff — pregnancy hormones are giving me baby fever for everything (is it still baby fever if you’re having a baby?)

let me know your thoughts in the comments/reblogs/asks — i’ve missed talking to you all sm! i have anon emojis available if people wanna chat too🤍

for the first time in a very long time,,, love, giselle xx

taglist (found here): @idkiwantchocolatee @vellicora @alessioayla @bborra @crimeshowjunkie @minkyungseokie @paolexsstuff @celestialpato @champagnelovers101 @loxbbg @hobiismyhopeu @tsukishitm-a @moonypixel @champagneproblems17 @ironmaiden1313 @lqvesoph @sunflower-golden-vol6 @six-call @skatingiswalkingincursive @peqch-pie @m0cha-bunny @woozarts @he6rtshaker @iluvvmeeee @goldenalbon @izzy-marvel @lucyysthings @lichterfee @tallrock35 @treehouse-house @iloveyou3000morgan @scopeiguess @amaranthineghost @gwginnyweasley @hetfieldd @sweetbabygirlsworld @wittywhispers @dark-night-sky-99 @namgification @casperlikej @marshmummy @geniusalpaca

tags for this post: @the-untamed-soul @itsprashimusic @purplephantomwolf @jasminesacademia

[cock-holliday]

I’m trying not to be a huge dick about it but I got a “but what about us q-slurs who are traumatized by the bad words?” on my slur reclaimation post and so I’ve made a handy guide

1. You are being called the slur.

A. If it is with malice, I am sorry for this experience, however, this situation is not at all what I was talking about.

B. If it is with affection or as a joke from other LGBTs, and it makes you uncomfortable, ask them to stop. If they don’t, they’re a dick for not respecting your boundaries.

2. You are being “forced” to see other people use the word for a larger community

A. If it bothers you then you are probably not the “fag community” to which they are referring, then. In a post? Block. Blacklist words. Block tags. Walk away. Avert your eyes. You don’t vibe with “queer community” then refer to it as LGBT. You make it sound like a “someone saying Happy Holidays means I can’t say Merry Christmas anymore” situation. You don’t have to use any words you don’t vibe with. Hate to say Dyke March or Dykes on Bikes? Don’t go to the march. Avoid the bikes.

3. You are being “forced” to hear other people use the word for themselves

A. I mean this with love and respect…suck it up. If it is so deeply triggering, remove yourself. Leave the situation. Block. Blacklist words. Block tags.

In a conversation about reclaimation, I am sorry, but you only get to decide how people refer to you, no one else. If someone else’s use upsets you, YOU have to do something about it, not them. You do not, under ANY circumstances, get to ask someone not to use dyke or fag or queer or tranny for themselves. You don’t get to ask someone not to use it/its. You don’t get to tell someone to tuck or bind because it gives you second-hand dysphoria. You do not get to decide how someone else is queer.

If being around them is that debilitating, you need to take steps to insulate yourself.

On the curate your own experience website, you should know how to do just that. There are so many guides out there. And to the complaint that “now” Pride uses all these slurs which has made Pride hostile to you, I’d invite you to crack open a book, but perhaps what you find will be too upsetting

[emmyrosee]

Sukuna hates how petty you can get when you’re fighting.

There is a part of him that loves your stubbornness, sure, like when you huff at him and make him work for your affection, but right now, you’re on day three of the silent treatment, and he’s losing it.

You enter a room and he’s already in it, you leave. You’re talking to yuuji and he comes in, you stop talking immediately. You haven’t been staying the night anymore, and you haven’t given him a kiss goodbye any time you’ve left. Even his ma is questioning what he did wrong, and he can’t give her a concrete answer.

He’s losing it.

Hes spammed texted you, he’s been trapping you in rooms by leaning in the doorframe, he’s been trying to get yuuji to be his messenger, but nothings working. You’re not biting.

“You’re over complicating this,” yuuji shakes his head and thumbing through channels. “Literally just apologize.”

“At this point I don’t even know what I’m apologizing for!”

“Well they’re on their way over, thinking you’re going to apologize, so you’d better figure it out.”

“You’ve been an immense help, thank you, asshole.”

As if on cue, there’s a knock at the door, and when Sukuna takes a deep breath and answers it, you nearly spin on your heel to leave.

“Oh I don’t think so,” he snips, grabbing your hand and pulling you in the house and trying not to focus on how you’re not even fighting against him, and that’s how indifferent you are to him. “We’re talking. Like it.”

“Hey dawg!” Yuuji cheers, clicking off the tv and waving. You wave back, your streak of not talking in front of Sukuna continuing. The younger chuckles, “I’ll let the adults duke it out. See ya!”

The room fills with silence as yuuji leaves, making Sukuna immensely uncomfortable. The way you’re looking at him has him uncomfortable, you’re making him so uncomfortable, and he just wishes you’d toss your pride to the side and talk to him and cuss him out or something.

“You look… good.”

Nothing.

“I’ve missed you.”

Nada.

“I made out with someone else because I got sick of you ignoring me.”

You scowl at him.

“Okay, I was lying. I was hoping you’d cuss me out.”

No dice.

“You’re acting like a fucking child!” He takes a deep breath in to try and ground himself, and you merely watch him with a hurt expression.

Okay. That didn’t help his situation.

“Fucks sake,” he grumbles, making a move to guide you backwards. He’s got you backed into a wall, hands on your shoulders while your arms stay nonchalantly crossed.

“I don’t get why you’re so mad at me; what did I even do?” He snaps, leaning close to your face threateningly.

You blink unamused.

Oh.

You’re gonna speak alright. He’s gonna make sure of it.

“Speak.”

You merely look him up and down and turn your head.

“Talk! Now!”

You let a tired exhale through your nose pass.

“I said i was sorry, and i know you know that was hard for me, why am i still being punished by you?” It’s bait to make you mad and talk, he knows he hasn’t apologized to the most sincere of his ability, but he hasn’t done anything wrong.

“Maybe I’ll tickle ya, how about that?”

That, does, have your eyes widening but you still don’t spare him a breath. He smirks, “I’d bet you’d hate that, huh? Holding in all that laughter and begs for me to stop, knowing I’m not going to until you talk to me… and I’ll do it too. You know that.”

You merely cross your arms over your chest tighter.

He shrugs, “you asked for it.”

And he’s gotta say, he’s impressed with how little you’re fighting back from him scooping you in his arms and tossing you on the couch, straddling you, even taking your two wrists in his massive paw and holding them above your head. Your lips wobble in anticipation, and he’s got you booked now. “Any last words? A quick ‘I hate you,’ maybe?”

You blink, bored, almost calling his bluff, and he comes up to smack his face in frustration. He wasn’t actually bluffing, he did have full intentions of making you scream, but he was so sure you’d crack under his gaze, even a quick kick to him as he was adjusting your body.

No dice.

With a shrug, hands come down quickly to tickle the meat of your ribs, settling in the dips and scratching at the bones maddeningly. He sees your lip become wobblier, and he smirks down at you. “Nothing? Not even a giggle? You must be pissed at me.”

You screw your eyes shut to ignore him and he clicks his tongue, “now you can’t even look at me? That sucks.”

He leans down to nibble at your neck and ear, whispering little words against your skin to make you squeak. But it isn’t until he cheats and uses his mouth to blow a raspberry on your sensitive neck, an area he’s so used to pressing loving kisses to, that you finally crack.

“YOURE SO CHEAP!” You scream, followed by a flurry of laughter and struggling from his tight hold. Your laugh is whiny and desperate, feet digging into the couch while his fingers merely slither up and under your arms.

He smirks against your skin, “gotcha.”

“Fuck off!” You squeal, tugging as hard as you can in his grasp. “Stohop it!”

“Are you gonna keep ignoring me?” He asks. You shake your head back and forth, but he cocks a brow. “Is that a no? Are we going to talk about your issues with me, or am I going to have to tickle you for the next few hours?”

“HOURS?!” You howl.

He shrugs, “you ignored me for three days, least I deserve is to tickle you until you sob.”

“I wasn’t-“ you’re cut off by a flurry of your own giggles. “This isn’t-“ a few more yowls of your laughter when he digs in more. “FUCK OFF!”

“Nah,” he snickers. “This is more fun.” He does, however, stop his torment and pulls back, but he does look down at you impatiently. “Speak,” he echos from earlier.

You let out a few more titters slip past your lips, but you do sober up slightly, “you don’t even care that I was mad at you.”

“Uh, I was about to tickle you until you died, I think I cared too much-“

“No, Sukuna. You just didn’t want me to be mad. You never apologized and you never even bothered to try and make it better…”

This, oddly, has Sukuna’s heart twisting, squeezed with emotions and realization that he did mess up, pride couldn’t save him now and if he wanted to fix this, he’d have to prove it.

He sighs in truce, “I’m sorry, babe.”

“….”

“What?”

“That’s it?”

He rolls his eyes, “what else do you want me to say?”

“I want you to care that I was hurt!” You whine, raising on your elbows. “I want you to understand I was hurt, that you messed up! Not be so prideful and not admit it!”

“Alright, alright, jeez,” he groans. He locks eyes with you, and he knows you’re not going to like it, but he leans down to kiss you, using his two hands to cup your jaw, letting his thumbs stroke your bone lovingly. “I’m sorry. It must’ve sucked having to deal with my shitty ass apologies before. I never should’ve pulled that shit, and I hated not having you by my side.”

This, has you softening.

He presses another kiss to you, “I missed your laughter. I missed you scolding me. I missed you being sarcastic… don’t pull that silent treatment shit again, will ya?”

You hum happily, “don’t piss me off and I won’t have to.”

He blinks unamused, and as the thought of tickling you again crosses his mind, you lean up to kiss his lips giggling softly in the warmth. “I’m kidding. You and I both know you’re not going to stop pissing me off.”

“Love when you answer your own demands,” he chuckles.

The tightness in his soul loosens as you submit to his affections, and he does make a mental note to never piss you off so bad again where you go back to happy to never talk to him again. He hates it more than even he knows, drags him down and he feels like he’s missing a crucial part of himself.

But it is good to know he can get you back out of that funk.