#getting puppy cases and puppy snuggles is the highlight of my job | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pascalpanic · 3 years

Note

hi angel 🥺 i’ve had some time to think of what i want to request and i’ve finally come up with something ;-;

do you think you could write something comforting (doesn’t have to be long!) where maxwell is caring for a reader who is a little tipsy or drunk? the reader is the kind of drunk who’s giggly and playful. and he’s super sweet and gentle with her. maybe they already have a pre-established relationship? maybe some slimy guy is hitting on her and he gets all protective and takes her home? and i’d neverrrrr object to smut either. but i’m leaving it up to you to write whatever you think works the best. i just miss reading soft and protective maxwell yanno ;-;

Overdoing It (Maxwell Lord x f!Reader)

W/C: 1.5k

Warnings: alcohol obviously, sexual innuendo, Maxwell lifts reader so I know some ppl aren’t comfy with that

A/N: RACH MY LOVE I’m sorry this took so long but I’m glad I finally did it bc I love how it turned out! ALSO HAPPY WW84 DAY (July fourth) SO WHAT WONDERFUL TIMING!

You certainly had not intended to imbibe to the level you had tonight. The problem was Maxwell, really, although in the best possible way.

The man has a high tolerance; you, admittedly, have one considerably lower than his. You love seeing Maxwell when he’s tipsy. It’s rare that you get to see it and remember it. The times that he’s tipsy are the times where you’re next to vomiting.

But tonight was a celebration, and Maxwell spared no expense. You’d finally received a position in a job you’d dreamed of, one that caused the two of you to spend hours poring over applications and perfecting cover letters. It was a success for the both of you, you said, but Maxwell insisted that it was all you.

You’d said that takeout was just fine with you, so long as Maxwell was there, but he insisted that a bigger celebration was in order. You didn’t really mind; you love getting dressed up to go out. Max made a reservation at a nice place in downtown D.C. and kept the specific place a surprise from you until now.

As you walked inside, the gorgeous atmosphere made you lose your breath for a moment. Your eyes nearly watered as you looked at Maxwell, and he simply kissed your forehead. “You deserve it, my love. I’m so proud of you.”

The words aren’t exactly rare from Maxwell, but they mean the world to you. Having someone tell you that they love you is one thing, but having someone say they’re proud of you is a completely different one. “I love you,” you grinned and followed him to your table, lacing your fingers through his.

Dinner was wonderful, unsurprisingly. Maxwell had scanned the menu the last time he came here, with business cohorts, and been certain you would like it. The delight on your face as you scanned the menu confirmed it, and Maxwell mentally gave himself a little pat on the back.

You’d ordered appetizers and drinks, then more drinks with the main course (two to accompany the meal, to be exact), and then more with dessert. By then, you were starting to feel a little tipsy, but nothing you couldn’t handle. Slowly, as you left the restaurant, the alcohol sunk in. The drinks were stronger than they’d seemed.

Luckily, Maxwell has a chauffeur. He’d had as many drinks as you, but the man’s tolerance is quite high. He seems barely affected, if not slightly looser and more carefree. The two of you made your way outside, Maxwell holding his arm around your waist to ensure that you didn't stumble; just in case, he reminded you, but you didn’t believe him.

In the car, you snuggle into Maxwell’s side happily, resting your head on his shoulder. “Buckle please, love,” he insists and wraps an arm around you.

“No,” you whine, kissing the soft cologned skin of his neck. “You’re too cozy.”

Maxwell laughs and nestles into you. “I’ll excuse it this once, only because I trust Jeeves,” he teases you. “How are you feeling, love?”

“So happy,” you smile up at him, dazed but content. The alcohol has brought you to a state of bliss now; love for Maxwell, a full stomach from the wonderful dinner, pride in your achievement.

Maxwell nods. “Of course you are,” he murmurs, mostly to himself.

“Ooh, do we have wine at home?” You ask, sitting up and looking at him. “You need a few more.”

“No, no more drinks,” he chuckles and pulls you back into his side. “I think we’re both done for the night, don’t you?” His hands slide over your shoulders, smoothing the bare skin that’s cold to the touch.

You pout at him and Maxwell turns his face away, smiling. “No, I can’t look at that. I won’t be able to say no.”

“Please, baby?” You plead with big eyes.

“We have wine at home,” Maxwell tells you, even though he’s unsure whether or not it’s true. Either way, he won’t be allowing you to drink any of it.

Sighing, you snuggle into his side, shivering. “Car’s cold,” you murmur.

Maxwell removes his suit jacket and drapes it around your shoulders, kissing your head and smiling down at you warmly. “How’s that?”

“Smells like your cologne,” you practically purr like a satisfied cat as you wrap yourself in the expensive fabric. “I love you so much, Maxie-poo.”

“I love you too, darling,” he chuckles. The chauffeur brings you to his house not long after, and Maxwell offers you a hand when you get out of the car.

Sitting in the seat, you frown up at him. “I’m fine, Max.” Standing in your high heels, your wobbly legs thanks to the alcohol send you falling into Maxwell, who catches you.

“Fine, yes,” he chuckles and lifts you back to standing. “Take off your shoes and let me help you inside.”

Sighing and crossing your arms, you step out of your shoes, calves screaming a thank you for removing them from those torture devices. He reaches down and picks them up, ass straining in his suit, and you can’t help but give it a smack, giggling.

“Oh, no, little miss,” Maxwell playfully chides and grabs your arm. “Let’s get you inside, tiger.”

Your legs lead your brain without any thought, drunkenly stumbling your way inside. Maxwell’s arms are your support, really the only thing to keep you from falling. He purposely steers you away from the path leading to the kitchen, knowing you’ll ask for more alcohol should you see it. When you reach the foot of the stairs, you groan and look at Maxwell with puppy eyes. You know his back has been bad lately, his joints ache when the humidity rises, but you can’t do this without him. “Can you carry me? Please?” You ask him.

Maxwell chuckles and kisses your head tenderly. “I suppose. Climb on my back.” He stands with his palms the wall, squatting for you to jump up on him.

The formal dress makes it difficult, but you hop up, both of you groaning as you latch onto him. “I love you so goddamn much,” you babble happily, kissing along the skin behind his ears.

“You’re lucky I love you too,” he grunts as he makes his way up the stairs, his knees aching from the weight of carrying absolutely anything on his back.

When he reaches the top, you get down and sigh, kissing him sloppily. “You’re the best.”

“I’m wonderful,” he sighs and rolls his eyes, leading you to the bedroom and letting you plop down on his plush California king bed.

You strip off his suit jacket and toss it at him, and he catches it without even looking. “Don’t even think about seducing me tonight, darling. You’re too far gone,” he chuckles.

His words make you frown and stop in the middle of unzipping your dress slowly. “I wasn’t gonna,” you grumble and stand, slipping out of the dress and getting under the thick covers of the bed.

“Sure,” Maxwell smiles and retreats into his large closet. He returns in pajama pants and the white tee he wore under his button-up.

He looks so soft like this, and even drunk, you recognize what a privilege it is to see him like this. His large suits hide his frame, but you can see the soft curve of his tummy, his broad shoulders and narrow torso. “We should get married,” you blurt to him, your heart-eyes penetrating through to his center.

“You’re drunk,” he shakes his head as he wanders to the bathroom. He returns with his thick-rimmed glasses on, and it completes the look, his highlighted hair messy and beginning to curl.

He sits on his side of the bed and hands you a glass of water and some painkillers. “You’re going to feel like shit in the morning, and you’re not allowed to blame me.”

“I won’t,” you pout and take the pills, rolling onto your side to face him. His legs are beneath the covers, and one of yours snakes to his and wraps your ankle around his.

Max smiles softly at the gesture. He recognizes it. You need his touch, want to snuggle tonight rather than keep to your own in his spacious bed. He lies down and you quickly scoot over to him, resting your head and a palm on his chest.

“I love you, dear,” he murmurs and kisses your forehead, his hand stroking your back lovingly. “You sleep now. Please.”

“I want to cuddle a little longer,” you frown and look up at him, face barely peeking out from the covers.

Max laughs. “Of course. We’ll stay like this, but at least make an effort to fall asleep. Your headache in the morning will be better if you sleep more.”

“Fine,” you sigh and scoot your body as close to his as possible, kissing his chest through the plain white t-shirt. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he repeats and sets his glasses to the side, letting himself sink into the squishy bed. He’ll surely have to care for you in the morning too, but he doesn’t mind. It’s worth it.

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @princess76179 @deltadebelleza @tacticalsparkles @queridopascal @wintermuteway @maievdenoir @dobbyjen @beskarboobs @sharkbait77 @day-off-inkyoto @darnitdraco @iamskyereads

#maxwell lord ww84 #maxwell lorenzano x reader #maxwell lorenzano #maxwell lord x you #maxwell lord headcanons #maxwell lord fanfic #maxwell lord #maxwell lord x reader #ww1984 #ww84 #ww84 fanfiction #wonder woman 84 #wonder woman 1984

136 notes · View notes

coeurdastronaute · 7 years

Text

Essays in Existentialism: Footie II

MORE lexa soccer player please and thank you!

Previously on Footie

The ride home after a game was one of the best times on the planet. Coming down from the high of playing, from the adrenaline of winning, from the pressure of the team and herself, from that glorious feeling of her muscles twitching with built up lactic acid from leaving every ounce of sweat and preparation on the field. It was an almost sacred time.

On the flight, most slept. Lexa usually read or relaxed, maybe snuck in a movie or something to numb the very excited and antsy part of her that came with the coming down she adored. It wasn’t often that she kept up on her phone, but something about the flight and her boredom and the antsiness made her scroll.

They were nearly home by the time she found a certain remark that made her pause. Fate did not disappoint her once again.

Anxiously, Lexa sat up as soon as she found the girl. She looked around as if she were about to do something illegal, as if at any moment someone would catch her, though deep down she knew there was nothing wrong about looking, she felt… she felt the tiny jokes and hard time her team would give her.

Satisfied that she was alone,she snuggled deeper into her sweatshirt and plane seat. Outside, the world passed, the night grew darker. The striker rubbed the soreness on her knee though it was not because it was worse than normal, but merely out of nerves.

For a moment she reconsidered, putting the phone into her pocket and clenching her jaw. Her foot tapped at the bottom of the seat in front of her before she sighed, long and heavy and gave up to herself.

When she was a child, her mother often joked that Lexa was her own babysitter. She had a strict moral code, and a police state-like vigilance over herself. While Anya was prone to sneaking out and being generally difficult and rebellious, Lexa was the opposite. NO one knew why. Her father certainly wasn’t like that, according to her mother. And her mother, well she was the one telling Lexa to sneak out with her sister just so she could have something to yell about sometimes. But Lexa was cursed with her own kind of conscious that she was only slowly learning to trick.

For instance, she could now lie to herself about this girl because it was just looking, right? It wasn’t like she was waiting around, and so there was no harm, no risk of getting more attached, no real risk at all.

It was the part of her that wanted to be attached that scared her.

The first few tweets were just silly, random things. One was an innocent retweet of a little video of Lexa’s goals from the game, and that made her smile into her collar. A bit deeper down were videos of songs, a few jokes and replies, some education-based government initiatives and politically motivated snide comments.

And then came the pictures.

Nervously, Lexa looked around again like she’d get caught with porn.

But from the overview, none looked to be that, just colorful squares and a pretty blonde peppered throughout.

She should stop, she argued with herself. But she was too deep.

Instead, she grinned when the first picture appeared. Twirling the end of her drawstring between her fingers, she bit at it a second later.

There was Clarke at a graduation for what looked like elementary students in miniature caps and gowns. There was a picture of freshly baked cookies. There were friends at a cookout. There were little words inked on pale skin, made visible by a slightly lifted shirt. There were car trips and books and music and lots of pictures in an apron at some restaurant. The more she scrolled, the more she grinned.

She stopped at the one of Clarke at a charity race. She stared at the girl who beamed with a medal beside her cheek, and she read the caption about her father

Of course she was, Lexa sighed. She had to be the daughter of one of the best football coaches in all of history, and Lexa’s all-around hero for most of her life.

“Fate,” she groaned and let her head loll back against the seat.

The little restaurant was nothing at all. It had enough tables for the regulars. It had good enough food and cheap enough drinks that it filled and emptied onto the patio. The atmosphere was always genial and calm and quiet. Clarke knew it better than she knew herself. It’d been her first job, her support through college, and even in the summer months, it was a nice reprieve from teaching and stress. It was a quiet slice of familiar for her.

Still, she caught the score and highlights and shook her head at the girl who lead the league in goals. Still, she couldn’t believe she almost thought fate would push her toward a soccer player.

It must have been comical.

“We’re closed,” she hummed as the bell rang and she finished stacking silverware on the side.

“Sorry. I just… I was in the neighborhood.”

As soon as she heard the voice, she knew and sighed before looking at the ceiling and asking the entire will of the world why this was so enjoyable for the forces at work to watch. Soccer players were bad news. It was that simple.

“I thought you were in Germany.”

“Poland,” Lexa shrugged, hands deep in the pockets of her shorts. “But you did figure it out then?”

“Okay, it only took me a little longer than embarrassing,” Clarke shrugged as she resumed her task of cleaning up behind the bar. “Honestly, had I not stopped by to see my dad, I wouldn’t have known. He’s a huge fan. He coaches.”

“An understatement,” the intruder mumbled. “So fate brought us together again?”

There was a bashful kind of grin there as they stood, strangers and nothing more.

“You literally had a game tonight. How are you here?” the waitress shook her head. “Wait. How are you here?”

“I’m running off of that post-game adrenaline.”

“Right.”

“I saw your comment a few days ago. I’ve been trying to usher fate along a bit. I’ve run past this place every day this week, but no luck.”

She had this air about her, this quiet, this calm, this strength, this worry, these thoughts that were impossible to not be endeared by. For a complete stranger, Clarke understood some of it, at least more than she thought she should.

“Isn’t that a sign?”

“I just don’t have the patience,” she shrugged again. “There was a little bit of fate. I took a little bit of circumstance and made my own luck.”

“But how did you know I was here?”

“I, uh, you know. Um. Internet.”

Clarke shook her head and untied her apron. Perhaps it was pointless to fight fate, perhaps this was the moment, the one where everything changed and nothing stayed the same. Perhaps all she had in front of her was a very bored soccer player who would break her heart like the last. Perhaps it was magic.

“So, what now?”

“I thought of a lot of really cool lines, like if we bumped into each other and stuff. I honestly hadn’t planned this part. You know, with the--”

“Adrenaline, yeah,” Clarke chuckled as she clicked off the lights in the back. “Well, what are they then, champ?”

“Huh?”

“What were you going to say?”

Clarke was distracted by the slope of her nose. The slight Roman tilt to the bridge of it, high and noble. The gentle part of her jaw. The way she dug her thumb into her palm to lessen the nerves.

“Marry me,” Lexa grinned.

“Right for the kill, huh?”

“I can’t think of any of them right now. Just. There’s a bit of fate here, isn’t there?”

Hopeful and eager, Clarke was certain she was party puppy herself. Lexa swallowed and watched the waitress move toward her.

“Do you want to go get a drink before the whole proposal thing?” Clarke ventured, turning off the final light.

“I don’t drink.”

“At all?”

“I like ginger ale.”

With a heavy sigh, Clarke appraised the girl in front of her.

“One ginger ale. On me. That’s all you get to plead your case.”

“I’m pleading now?”

“I don’t date soccer players.”

“Well I’m not sure I want to date at all, so this works out well,” Lexa decided, earning a smile.

She already knew it was too late, but that lone dimple sure as hell was the final nail in her coffin.

The riverfront was quiet. Tuesday was boring, even in July, but the stillness of the water, the quiet of the humidity, the wilt of the leaves, the curls of hair that refused to even battle the elements, the smell that comes at a certain temperature when the breeze picked up that is so innately summer, it strangled the city.

“My niece. She invited me as her Show and Tell object last year, and I had to stand there, in full uniform, while she explained what I did,” Lexa grinned as Clarke picked pictures for her to explain. “Then, she made me do tricks.”

“And you agreed to it?”

“Look at those dimples and those eyes,” she groaned. “I’m a sucker. And she’s my biggest fan. She wears a shirt with my name on it and I’m just… It probably fills me with the most pride.”

“She’s a cutie for sure,” Clarke grinned, taking a sip of her own ginger ale.

The pair leaned against the railing, ignoring proximity and the city and enjoying their own little world, as they had been for the past two hours. It wasn’t how she expected her night to go, but Clarke wasn’t terribly upset with a night like that.

“It was just me and Anya. We had this age difference that always teetered on this line of her mothering me. Then, after our mom passed, it just brought us together. I miss her a lot. My sister. And my mom,” she added, swallowing and chewing her lip before thinking about it too much. “Has anything ever happened to you, where when you look back at the past, you see yourself, and you just… it seems so far removed? You can’t imagine that person anymore?”

“Yeah,” Clarke sighed.

“What was it?”

“I liked it better when you were proposing.”

“It’s fate.”

Clarke took a deep breath and refused to meet those eyes. Those eyes were attached to that mouth, the same one that smiled when Clarke told her about some of her students and the things they said, or that frowned when she explained her dislike of the sport because of a shitty ex.

“My mom’s a doctor. Her father was a doctor. His was a doctor. It went back probably to healers in clans or something,” she shrugged. “And I put a lot of pressure on myself to do it, and I didn’t want to be a doctor. So I sabotaged myself a bit, I guess. Senior year of high school, I was admitted to the hospital for exhaustion. Which spiralled from there. It was a long year. And sometimes I’ll think of me in high school, and it’s a different person. I’m just… I’m happy now. I can’t remember ever having that feeling before.”

“I can’t imagine it.”

“A year ago we found out my dad has cancer. Things haven’t been the same since that, honestly. But I’m not far enough in the future to separate it yet, you know?”

“Yeah, I know,” Lexa nodded, fiddling with the tab of her soda can.

“Tell me your deep dark secrets now, World Champion Trophy Award-Winning Superstar with A Million Endorsement Deals.”

“Are you mocking me for endorsing products?” she laughed, twisting her side against the railing and facing the enigma of a girl who made her ache and fixed her up so quickly she hadn’t seen it coming. “I go through a lot of cleats. I have to get some for free.”

“What about sports bras and running shorts that you use on unsuspecting girls in the park?”

“Oh, you remember that?” she grinned, all mischievous and good and Clarke was certain a bit of the devil mixed in for good measure.

Lexa earned a blush. She saw it right there in the evening under the street light.

“Who were you before?” Clarke ignored her.

Lexa took a deep breath as well and tilted her head up to the sky with her eyes closed, enjoying the night and the warmth and the company.

“I can’t remember. I mean. I watch memories happen. I just don’t remember the motivation for much of it. Anya says I get all stuck in my head. I think I used to be happy and loud and she says I would make everyone laugh. But I can’t picture doing it.”

“What happened?” Clarke’s voice was tiny, but such was the appropriate volume to ask such things after midnight on a Tuesday in July.

“My mom worked really hard so that I could play. It was always just us. My dad pissed off sometime before I could know him,” Lexa shrugged. “She picked me up from practice even though she had to go back to work that night. We were talking about dinner. I remember that. She was laughing because I was hungry. I’m always hungry,” she smiled. “And then we weren’t. And I remember opening my eyes and she was just staring at me. Only we were upside down and there was glass and blood and the smell. I remember that a lot.”

“I’m… Lexa, I’m so sorry. I didn’t… I mean. I. Your’s is so much--”

“It’s not more or less than anyone else’s. It just is,” she stopped Clarke before she could fret over it. “My mom used to be very superstitious. She’d have prayers, toss salt over her shoulder, spit on my cheeks. Everything was meant to be. I never believed in it. Now it’s kind of just habits. But it was nice thinking of her when I ran into you twice.”

“I like that though,” Clarke smiled, leaning closer. “I think the summer is magic. I always have. I don’t know why, but it just… It feels like magic, doesn’t it? It was missing before someone asked me for directions. With my dad and stuff, the magic has been at a minimum.”

“A bit of fate then did us both some good.”

“Something like that.”

By two in the morning, the streets were slumbering despite the wonderings of two strangers who didn’t know where their feet led them, and frankly didn’t much care. If there was magic, it wouldn’t let the night end.

“I can appreciate that, but you’re wrong,” Lexa argued vehemently.

“I don’t care how much you love action movies. Big Trouble in Little China is not a cinematic masterpiece,” Clarke scoffed, unable to believe it.

“What about They Live?”

“What now?”

“I’m here to kick ass and chew bubblegum,” Lexa mimicked, arms out and full of fake guns. “And I’m all out of bubblegum.”

“Seriously?” Clarke laughed, pushing her slightly.

“Okay, but Robocop? Terminator? Lethal Weapon?”

“I mean, those are movies,” she shrugged while Lexa balked at the simple description. “I’ve never really been into them.”

“Oh my goodness,” the soccer player let her head droop forward, shaking sadly. “Out of all of the girls in the universe.”

“I told you I was hard to love.”

“You can just watch them with me. I’ll corrupt you yet,” Lexa offered, nudging the blonde to get back on the sidewalk as one of the first delivery trucks of the morning crept along, turning into the alley they passed.

“Making plans already?”

“I gave up fighting fate when I was hanging upside down in a car,” she shrugged. “Makes those penalty shots a little more tolerable, too.”

Clarke smiled to herself at the words. She wasn’t sure how, but she slid her hand around Lexa’s bicep and rested her chin on her shoulder.

While she was still very unfamiliar with the city, despite the beautiful buildings, despite the quiet and the slow, meandering walk they allowed themselves, Lexa couldn’t look at much else other than the girl who talked animatedly about her students and the state of affairs of her very nosy neighbors.

It was distracting at best, but the city took such a backseat to this stranger who was becoming not a stranger over the course of a few hours.

“When I was seven, my mom decided I needed an outlet for my energy, so she signed me up,” Lexa shrugged, oddly self-conscious when the conversation turned to her. It was easy to talk about movies and stuff, it was impossible to be honest.

“I can imagine you as a bundle of energy.”

“Something like that,” she grinned as she kicked at an old can on the ground. “Our neighbor helped out a lot, Mr. Nash. He’d drop me off at practice, go to games when my mom worked. He’s my biggest fan, to be honest.”

“I bet that’s a long list.”

“He was the original. His wife died a few years before we moved in, and he needed a hobby, so yelling at me when I kicked balls against the fence was his. And then he just kind of… became our family. Mia calls him Pappy. He has his own kids and grandkids, but he always helped us.”

“He sounds fun.”

“He introduced me to your dad.” Clarke cocked her head and paused their walk, making Lexa flustered at the admission. “I mean. Not in person. But this was back when your dad was coaching, and he won three years in a row. Mr. Nash dug out old games and I watched him play. He was… It was amazing. I would practice moving like him.”

“How’d you figure out he was my dad?”

“Pictures on your… you know. I saw him and I got so mad at fate,” she chuckled.

“So this has been about twenty years in the making?” Clarke laughed with her.

“Cosmic long game,” she agreed. “Is that why you don’t date soccer players? Grew up around them?”

“No, most were fine,” she shrugged. “All it takes is one though. A rookie jerk who broke my heart. Swore them off after him.”

“Was he as good as me?”

For a moment, Clarke considered it and wanted to tease, but she could see the genuine curiosity. They stood on the corner and waited for a light to change despite there being no traffic at all, as if they waited, and time would wait, too.

“He’s rubbish,” Clarke finally admitted. “But I doubt anyone is as good as you.”

“You’d have to watch more than one game to know that though.”

“My dad said you were the best he’s seen. I trust his expert opinion.”

“He said… You mean. Wait,” Lexa stopped walking as Clarke continued. “Jake Griffin said I was-- Clarke! Wait! You have to tell me every word he said.”

With a shake of her head, the daughter of Lexa’s hero rolled her eyes and waited for the soccer player to catch up.

“Sorry,” Lexa swallowed and blushed, averting her eyes from Clarke’s as she finally slid into the bench that they found by the bridges. She handed over a cup of coffee and a little paper bag with some breakfast in it.

Clarke had already mocked her from afar as she got stuck taking pictures with a few apparent fans before entering the café across the street. She gave herself the five minutes they were separated to really think about what she was doing, about how she’d suddenly spent six hours walking around the city with this perfect stranger who was delightfully rambly and perfectly kind and decent and too obsessed with bad movies.

“It’s cute. That little girl was so happy to see you,” Clarke promised as the soccer player sat down.

They sky was grey, was quiet and not really worried with waking, though the streets picked up, the foot traffic growing as the inevitable buzzing of alarm clocks woke the world despite the two who sat on the bench as if they had nowhere else to go.

All down the river, barges pushed and boats moved as much as they could, their pace leisurely and undeterred. Across the water, on the other bank, businesses and buses billowed up and hummed along, as the volume began to be turned up.

“She reminded me of Mia.”

“When do you get to see her again?”

“My sister is bringing her husband and Mia for the playoffs and such, if we make it. Probably in the spring,” she grinned and took a sip of her own coffee. “I’m so excited. I’m going to take her to see a castle and she’ll watch me play.”

“I wonder which she’ll like more.”

“The castle, definitely. She gets bored at my games,” Lexa chuckled, carefully tearing a piece of muffin from inside her bag.

For the morning, right there in the middle of town, as the city woke up and the world failed to realize they were missing, the two just talked, just sat and talked and were anything but what they always were, which was alarmingly refreshing and terribly addicting.

Lexa was already terribly fond of the way Clarke used her hands to explain things. She kind of liked her eyes, too. There was also that terrible problem of her damn lips and how much she wanted to kiss them, but she refused to think about that for too long.

“You still never explained the blind date things,” Clarke pressed, cocking her head slightly. She felt Lexa stretch out her long legs and adjust closer. “That your teammates were determined to set you up on,” she explained when she earned a cocked head.

“Oh! Oh. Yeah,” she cleared her throat. “I um. You know. I guess. I just. They said I was too serious. I needed something outside of work.”

“And none of them stuck?”

“It wasn’t meant to be,” Lexa decided. “Now. How do I get around this No Footballers rule you’ve enacted?”

“Switch jobs.”

“There is a pretty significant clause in a pretty ironclad contract that would forbid that,” she wagered. “What if I just promise to never cheat on you and win the championship.”

“Just a championship?” Clarke pfft’d.

“What else can I do?”

It was hopeful and eager, but Lexa meant it. She’d probably try to set a record for goals in a single game if Clarke asked her to, because this girl. This girl.

“I’ll try to think of something.”

The grin that came was mesmerizing and catching. Lexa leaned back and felt Clarke’s shoulder against her own, and she smiled too.

There kept being reasons to not leave each other. There was drinks, and then a walk, and then coffee, and then breakfast, and then slowly meandering toward the closest apartment. But the reasons were dwindling and time was happening despite their insistence that it stop.

The day opened up and early morning dawn became full morning, became traffic and people in suits and two very out of place and sleepy wanderers amidst the chaos of structured society. Lexa just wanted Clarke to hold onto her arm again, like she had the night before, because that was something. Clarke just wanted to stop smiling so much and trying to memorize Lexa’s voice and how her laugh started, soft and deep in her lungs before making it to her lips.

They debted movies. They argued about home. They complained about the future. They mourned the past. They offered assurances and guesses based on just a few hours and a gut instinct. They joked and teased and flirted and forgot what it meant to be part of reality.

But nights end. Days start. Lives happen.

“This is me,” Clarke finally stopped in front of her building. The stadium and the park poked itself out just a few blocks away. Lexa almost recognized the place.

“I. Uh.” Lexa took a deep breath and fidgeted in her pockets again. “This was fun. I had a good time.”

“Better than fine?”

“Much better than fine,” she nodded. “Would it be terrible to ask your number?”

“You don’t want to let fate decide any longer?”

“Listen, you can’t trust fate too much. It’s just a nudge. You make your own luck,” Lexa explained, the self-appointed expert on the subject.

Intense eyes searched her, debated, and Lexa felt very small under eyes like that, very raw and very open. But she stood a bit straighter and she tilted her chin up, ready to fight.

“I can’t believe I’m going to break my no soccer players rule for you,” Clarke sighed and dug in her pocket for some kind of paper. She pulled out a single dollar from the night before and wrote on it.

“I’m going to use this to ask you on a date,” Lexa explained as she looked at it and asked permission once again. “Just so you know. You don’t have to give it to me if you’re uncomfortable with that.”

“I wouldn’t be giving it to you for any other reason.”

“Summer magic, huh?” she grinned, shoving the bill into her pocket.

“Yeah, something like that.”

Still, neither wanted to move. Not even when the door opened and a neighbor came out, carefully shuffling past them on the steps. Both simply leaned over the railing and let her scootch past.

“I should let you go on then,” Lexa nodded to herself.

Before she could register it, she felt arms around her neck and a big kind of hug strangling her. Her own hands remained at her side for a moment before she could translate what was happening. Clarke’s chest was on her chest, her arms were strong around her neck, her cheek was pressed against her own, and all across her body, Lexa felt her. She smiled into Clarke’s shoulder and closed her eyes, taking a big breath of that memory.

“Thank you for giving fate a nudge,” Clarke whispered.

“Anytime.”

Clarke untangled herself and made her way up the steps while Lexa remained there at the bottom one, fiddling with the new dollar bill in her pocket, overjoyed and unsure what to do with it. Bashfully, she waved as Clarke gave her a final goodbye. Tired as the soccer star was, she glided all the way home.

624 notes · View notes

roseinaconcreteworld · 7 years

Photo

Current summer favorites. We are now halfway through the year (how is that even possible?!) The reason why I don’t post monthly faves is because I have to use up the products that I share with you. That is why they’re my preferred items after all! Yet as we’ve entered the second half of the year I thought I would compile the bits I haven’t been able to put down so far. Let’s get started, shall we?! We shall.

Stress, pollution, changing seasons and poor diet 🙋🏾💁🏾🤷🏾‍♀️are some of the many factors that account for overactive sebaceous glands. Quebec high-end, anti-aging cosmetics company *Integral Dermo Correction (IDC)’s Regen Express Mat Multi-Benefit care is a wonderful fluid that delivers both mattifying and anti-aging action to my skin. Formulated for combination to oily skin (ayyyyee💃🏾), this babe brilliantly corrects and hydrates my face, eye contour and neck. This complex refines my sheath texture, reduces the sebum excess and even brightens up my complexion. Its anti-glistening properties shine-proofs my face while diminishing the appearance of my pores. It can be used at night as well but I’ve come to integrate it in my morning routine, right before my makeup for an oil-free, all-day beat.

An item that is not new on the market but a recent addition to my anti-dewy arsenal is the Fit ME! pressed powder by Maybelline (similar here). Among its numerous benefits, I count its oil-free formula as essential. It is so easy to use and apply. It packs a buildable coverage, thanks to its lightweight texture. It sets without looking cakey or chalky. The coconut (355) shade fits me (!) to a t. It leaves me with a flawless, airbrushed look; must be the micro-fine pigments. I feel like my skin breathes when I have it on. I mainly use it to set my under eye concealer before spreading the excess all over my face. It doesn’t make it feel heavy or as if there were any layers. It just has that fluffy, velvety texture and gives me a natural finish. It blends in effortlessly with my skin for those “no makeup” makeup days and beautifully finishes up an elaborate, glam look. It doesn’t really live up to its mattifying claim but the easy-to-carry container’s in-built mirror makes it great for quick touch ups. Overall it’s a great powder at an affordable price ($10.90CDN). My fit me foundation, concealer & blush collection is now complete!

I’ve been trying to lay off makeup wipes lately. They are not environment friendly and they don’t necessarily get ALL of the makeup off of my pores. Clinique’s Take the Day Off cleansing balm has been my product of choice lately for my evening regimen. It is a superb makeup remover and cleanser that starts out as a balm then emulsifies to an oil. I like that it is a non-stripping product. It is so gentle; it doesn’t tug nor pull. I scoop a little bit out of the tub, apply it on dry skin, massage it around my face and I just watch as it breaks down my makeup and melts it all off before removing it with a cloth. A simple swipe takes away all the makeup, grime and oil. I then follow with my regular nighttime routine. It leaves a clean, fresh face behind without any film or residue. It does help keeping my skin moisturized for the night. This guy doesn’t have any fragrance so for my sensitive skin Rosedolls, fret not, you, too can enjoy this miraculous unguent. *Estée Lauder’s Re-nutriv ultimate lift regenerating youth eye creme is an absolute dream. It gives my darker-than-night under eye a brighter, more lifted look and a firmer feel. It’s now become a staple in my night routine. I really love the refreshing, tangling sensation I get after applying it. My lower eye area looks remarkably enlightened in the morning. It’s formulated with the brand’s exclusive ingredients, Floralixir Dew™ that activates the skin’s youthful renewal process. Its soft, lightweight creamy texture absorbs almost instantly. I am in love with its luxurious gold accented package though I would have preferred it in a pump version for sanitation and hygiene. *shrug

Let me tell you about * Stila’s Heaven’s Hue highlighter ($42 CAN). First off this highlighter packs a serious pigment punch. The liquid-looking formula glides onto skin like butter. It blends in like a dream, and leaves behind a shiny, sparkly finish. It melts into my cheeks and gives me a barely-there feeling. Its ultra-fine light diffusing particules help me look alit from within for a soft, luminous, natural-looking glow. I usually have to peg 2-3 products on higher points of my face to get somewhat of a shimmy shimmer. This warm bronze color literally shines on its own. It is not chunky nor is it over glittery. It just gives me that ultra light (bomb!) beam highlight✨. The handfeel is so buttery to the touch. I just effortlessly dust it on and slowly build it up (if need be) for a gleaming look. Don’t walk to *Sephora, *Shoppers Drug Mart (beautyboutique.ca👀)or *Murale to get you one, run!

*Paul & Joe ’s brand is known for its assorted styling packages so I was delighted when this puppy was included in a lovely gift bag from a collection reveal. This fella comes with a lipstick case and a separate refill. The shade I got is #101 - Snuggle up and I hooked it up to the lipstick case cs #035. This mauve-y pink shade is my perfect purple-y nude. It’s actually very similar to my natural lip color. It is deep enough to be considered a nude for brown skins and darker skin tones. The formula is remarkably creamy. It goes on nicely and smoothly. Its emollient jojoba seed oil component makes it very moisturizing on the lips. The cocoa seed butter ingredient, a natural moisturizer, makes it very comfortable on my pucker. It is not streaky at all. I get a sleek finish in one swift stroke. My only gripe with this lippy is its lasting power. I catch myself reapplying several times during the day. Nonetheless, I really like the formula and the shade. I feel like it adds a little pop of color while still staying subtle for my “no makeup” makeup days (gotta love these). The case stunningly brightens up my makeup bag as well!

Some makeup & beauty pros swear by the Rimmel London Stay Matte Primer so I was really excited to give it a whirl. I am now hooked. It brilliantly minimizes the appearance of my pores. It controls my laugh lines creases, helps delay my oils and creates a soft matte canvas for my makeup. I also noticed that it makes it last longer. I am a big fan of its easy to use, waste-proof squeeze-y tube container. It comes out as a regular moisturizer and blends well into the face. I like to apply it with my fingers before going back to it with my beauty blender. Surprisingly, I don’t get any white cast after putting it on. My foundation glides on my visage like skates on a rink after I apply this primer. And the best part of it all is I didn’t break the bank for this product ($_CAN). This primer definitely gets the VIP status at the top shelf for me.

Another item that’s made its way to my heart is Caudalie Vinosource Moisturizing Sorbet. While it mainly caters to sensitive and dehydrating skin, I do reap some benefits from it. Its antioxidants properties (aging signs reducer) and the presence of shea butter really make it a skincare staple. I also noticed that it helps perfect my base and contributes to my makeup superbly gliding on my face. Must be the glycerin component. I really appreciate that it’s not greasy. It has a gel-like creamy consistency that my oily skin marvelously agrees with. It is so airy and absorbs onto my skin rather quickly. It leaves my face feeling nourished and incredibly soft. I really love its subtle but pleasant grape smell. A little bit goes a long way so the tube will last you for a good while. I got a bitesize from Sephora as a birthday giftset but a regular tube is definitely on the horizon. It’s a little on the pricey side ($45 CAD - reg) but absolutely worth it.

For over ten years, Clean has been an innovator in the world of fragrance, creating unique and personal bouquets. The Lovegrass Eau de Parfum ($40-72CAN at Sephora) is a woodsy scent that I find is universal. A fresh perfume, this day-appropriate essence is like a warm summer breeze encapsulated. It features “top notes of lemon blossom, clementine, black pepper”. Middle notes include “iris, orange blossom and rose petal”. Base notes are “white wood, amberwood, patchouli, labdanum and musk.” I love the minimalist bottled and the sea foam green package which instantly indicates what you are in for. It is a fresh and juicy citrus spritzes on light and crisp in the morning..and then it fades. The only downside (a big one) with this is its poor, approximate four hours lasting power. That is the reason why I like to layer it under my tried and true *Happy by Clinique. I feel like it elevates the lingering factor. Plus the combination of the two of these together creates the perfect citrus aroma. It just wouldn’t be a favorite post of mine without a Marcelle mention , wouldn’t it!?! I can’t help it, I love this Canadian brand and their fantastic products! The *Volum’ Xtension Magnetic mascara is no exception. It was literally love at first coat. This guy brings out lashes that I didn’t know I had. It does a great job at plumping them up while emphasizing the short, sparse ones I do have. It impeccably separates and defines my lashes, giving them length, definition and volume. I can honestly say that this lash topper easily competes with its high end counterparts No flaking nor smudging whatsoever. It is absolutely clumps-free. Because of its straight brush and multiple mini bristles you really can’t make this too thick or too spidery, which gives me the freedom to put a ton on! Natural-looking; again, another member of my no makeup makeup routine club. Another fabulous attribute this guys has is that it washes off easily, which I can definitely appreciate after a long day. I am also here for its sleek, futuristic package.

I tend to favor higher end shadows over drugstore because the accessible end of the spectrum are lackluster in terms of performance (can you say ashy?) and consistency (ouh giirl, chunky city!) So I was delighted when this *Stila Perfect Me, Perfect Hue Eye & Cheek palette came my way. These eyeshadow AND blush assortments were very intriguing to me. I love that the whole range caters to an array of skin tones. The brand offers four boxes for your own perfect hue: fair/light, light/medium, medium/tan (the one I received) and tan/deep, each carrying 5 shadows & 2 blushes. My quad has a base (curious), a lid shade (daring), a crease color (feisty), a liner (magnetic), a brow highlighter (captivating) and two cheek toppers (inspiring - with a pearly finish & mysterious - a matte). Daring as you can see has a pretty good dent in it. This is my go-to lid hue(!) I then like to place Magnetic, a nice brown-y, plum on the outer corner of my eye and build it up for a soft smokey look. I finish it off with Captivating, a scintillating pink-y, ecru illuminater for my brow bone. And voilà! A daytime, work-appropriate look. For blush, I usually gravitate towards peach-y colors, but Mysterious, a deep, wineberry shade agrees more with my complexion. These puppies are very rich in pigments, particularly the shimmered ones that I find are more buttery soft. Interestingly enough, I don’t experience an alarming amount of fallout from this palette. I do however recommend a shadow primer when using them. And I know you can’t see it from the photo but can we (I) have a moment for the stunning leopard imprinted packaging?! (click here if you’re curious)

There you have it, ‘dolls! The products I most likely will be gravitating towards for the rest of the season. What say you? What are your summer essentials? Sound off in the comments below!

xoxo, Deb

SOURCES: nordstrom.com/ harpersbazaar.com/ amazon.ca/ google.ca/

DISCLAIMER: Some items were purchased with my own coinTs, unless marked with a (*) then these are products that were sent by mail or gifted to me at an event without any pressure for review. Thoughts/opinions are as always my own (how boring to take someone else’s ;P)

#currentlyobsessed #current favorites #current faves #beautyfaves #summerbeautyfaves

0 notes