Eve

19 les-be-honest my personal diary

[thatonepersononline]

WELCOME TO MY BLOG

masterlist | what i write

my name is eve, i use she/her pronouns, and im a 19-year-old writer.

here is a little intro on me!!

i'm a january capricorn and a lesbiannnn

i'm currently in college, working on (drumroll please)

my bachelors in english and then moving into my masters in journalism

(do we see a theme here..?)

i love women so much.

when i'm not writing, i'm probably doomscrolling tiktok (yeah..), running, reading, doing something artsy, doing one of my 8 billion hobbies, or listening to music.

i love hockey (yes i’ve seen heated rivalry)! and just recently got into the wnba and wbb so here are my favorite teams!

my favorite nhl teams: new jersey devils (aka my team!), san jose sharks, boston bruins, new york rangers (aka my dads team)

my favorite wnba + wbb teams: golden state valkyries, dallas wings, washington mystics, seattle storm, phoenix mercury, uconn, ucla, boston university

my favorite players: jack hughes, luke hughes, quinn hughes, nico hischier, macklin celebrini, will smith (hockey), mitch marner, paige bueckers, diana taurasi, sue bird, kate martin, sonia citron, kelsey plum, syd colson, tp, brittaney griner, nika muhl, napheesa collier, azzi fudd, kk arnold, sarah strong, k9

other things i like:

young miko!!, psych, youtubing/social media, phoebe bridgers, boygenius, julien baker, hozier

i created this blog to yap and write my little stories in peace. plus i want to meet new people who share the same passion!

feel free to send in requests and to talk to me about everything, this page as a safe space, everyone is welcome here and i'll happily make new friends with y'all! 💗

DNI: men, minors, homophobes, transphobes, racists, maga, pro trump, pro ice.

under no circumstance are you allowed to take my work and post it as your own. (reblogging allowed). you are not allowed to take, translate, or adapt my work.

[thatonepersononline]

young miko the woman you are

[thatonepersononline]

back when i was 16 in the bronx

no one gets the reference… no it’s okay

[mostlymarvelgirl]

I really miss those old avengers tower fics

1. Clint in the vents

2. Bruce and Tony in the lab... science bros

3. Cap being accused and called out by his team ... either it's the "language" or "I understood that reference"

4. Loki for some reason being imprisoned in the tower by Odin to learn humanity blah blah

5. Thor and his poptarts

6. Natasha and wanda being the bestie

7. Reader either dating Loki or Bucky

8. Fury calling out reader initially as a threat as they were an orphan who was a lineage of witches type of trope. OR reader is Tony's kid.

9. Bucky randomly becoming besties with Sam and them having their own fights.

10. Peter and Shuri becoming besties with reader

11. Maria, pepper, wanda, Natasha and reader having sleepovers.

12. Tony having a party every time after a mission. Everyone ends up trying to lift thor's hammer and reader turns out to be worthy.

13. Loki teaching reader how to use magic.

And the list goes on....

[batty4billz]

girlhood is writing fanfiction when you should be doing homework.

[jordisols]

oh to be tag teamed by diana taurasi and sue bird

[lyricii]

hey boo! i’ve been waiting for you to open your request ;) so i’m in LOVE with how you write for dt so i’m here requesting one! so it’s like a forbidden love/secret relationship. she’s the vet and you’re a rookie, you guys can’t be together so you hide it. one time at like a party or game, just somewhere, someone flirts with you. later diana is upset because you guys are “together” and you’re just done with this whole secret relationship and want it to be public. whether it ends with angst or happiness idc it’s up to you!

(i was listening to the song “secret love song” by little mix and this came to me.. soo)

secret love song

pairing: vet!diana!dating x rookie!reader!dating

wc: 1.5k

summary: they loved each other loudly in private, quietly in public—and in the end, the only thing more painful than hiding was learning that love alone still wasn’t enough.

🏷️:  @timunhater, @marleymarleymarleymarley, @whimsicalunicornfairy14, @bbreezyxoxo, @sammiejane22, @c-grace56

the first rule diana gives you isn’t about defense or footwork or how to survive a long season.

it’s this: “we don’t exist outside these walls.” she says it quietly, like it’s a favor she’s doing you.

you nod. you always nod.

because she’s diana taurasi and you’re a rookie who still triple-checks her locker number before practice, who still feels like the league might realize they made a mistake and send you back.

so you agree to the rules.

no hands in public.

no lingering looks on the bench.

no walking in together.

no leaving together.

you learn how to love her in fragments—late-night texts, stolen minutes in empty hallways, the press of her knee against yours under a table when no one’s looking.

you learn how to swallow it when she calls you “rookie” in front of the team but kisses your temple when the door locks.

it’s intoxicating and yet it’s still lonely and you tell yourself that’s just the price of being chosen.

the party is loud. too loud. music shaking the floor, bodies everywhere, champagne flutes clinking like it’s all celebration and no pressure.

you’re wearing something simple. you always do. you’ve learned not to stand out too much.

diana is across the room, surrounded—laughing, easy, magnetic. she doesn’t look at you once.

you tell yourself that’s part of it. then someone does. a teammate’s friend. harmless. smiling. leaning in a little too close to hear you over the music.

“you’re the rookie, right?” they ask. “you’ve been killing it.” you smile back, polite. practiced. they touch your arm when they laugh.

you don’t notice diana until the air changes. she’s there suddenly, shoulder brushing past yours, voice cool and sharp.

“we need you,” she says. not a question. her hand doesn’t touch you. not even close. later—after the car ride where she doesn’t speak, after the elevator where you stare at the numbers instead of her—you finally crack.

“you were flirting.” you blink. “i wasn’t.”

“you didn’t stop it.”

“i’m not allowed to stop it,” you say, voice shaking. “i’m not allowed to do anything.”

she turns then, anger bright and dangerous. “you’re not allowed because it puts you at risk.”

“or because it makes you uncomfortable?” you shoot back.

silence. thick. heavy. telling.

“i’m tired,” you whisper. “i’m tired of pretending i don’t love you.” her face softens just enough to hurt.

“this isn’t fair to you,” she says.

you laugh, broken. “you think i don’t know that?”tears come before you can stop them. “i watch you get to exist. out loud. while i have to pretend i don’t want you when you’re right there.”

diana steps closer, hands hovering like she wants to reach for you but won’t. “then what do you want?” she asks quietly.

you meet her eyes. finally. fully.

“i want to stop hiding,” you say. “even if it ruins everything.” the room feels smaller. like the whole league is holding its breath. she exhales slowly.

“once it’s public,” she says, “there’s no taking it back.” you nod. “i know.” a beat.

then, softer than anything she’s ever said to you: “okay.” she cups your face. not in secret. not in the dark. and for the first time, you don’t pull away.

the news doesn’t break quietly. it never does. it starts as a photo—grainy, poorly lit, taken by someone who didn’t mean to make history but did anyway. diana’s hand on your jaw. your forehead pressed to hers. unmistakable.

by morning, it’s everywhere.

your phone doesn’t stop buzzing. group chats. old teammates. reporters you’ve never spoken to suddenly using your first name like you’re friends.

rookie sensation in secret relationship with league veteran?

power imbalance or true love?

is this allowed?

no one asks how it feels. practice is different. the locker room goes quiet when you walk in. not hostile—just careful. eyes flicking away too fast, whispers that stop mid-sentence.

one teammate bumps your shoulder gently. “you okay?” she murmurs, low. you nod. you always nod.

diana comes in last. she doesn’t look rattled. she never does. but you see it in the way her jaw is tight, the way she doesn’t joke with the trainers like usual.

when she sits beside you, she doesn’t touch you. not because she doesn’t want to. because now, suddenly, everyone’s watching.

the meeting with the front office is worse than the headlines.

phrases like professional boundaries and optics float around the room like smoke. they talk about you like you’re not sitting there. like you’re a liability instead of a person.

someone says, “this puts pressure on the rookie.”

you finally speak. “i chose this.” silence. diana’s head snaps toward you. you don’t look away.

the press conference is packed. they ask diana first. of course they do.

“was this relationship consensual?”

“when did it start?”

“do you understand the implications?”

she answers calmly. measured. captain-like. then they turn to you. “did you feel pressured?”

your chest tightens. you think of every time she held back for you. every rule she made to protect you, even when it hurt.

“no,” you say. voice steady despite everything. “i felt respected.”

a murmur ripples through the room. you glance at diana. for the first time all day, she smiles. small. proud. devastating.

later, alone, the weight finally hits.

“i’m sorry,” you say, sitting on the edge of the bed. “if this messes things up for you—”

she crosses the room in two strides and cups your face.

“don’t,” she says. firm. “don’t you dare apologize for loving me.”

her thumb brushes under your eye, catching a tear you didn’t realize fell. “this league has tried to make me smaller my whole career,” she continues softly. “i’m not letting it do that to you.”

you lean into her touch, exhausted. “are we gonna survive this?” you whisper. she rests her forehead against yours.

“yeah,” she says. “but it’s not gonna be easy.” you nod. you’re done hiding. and for the first time, even with the cameras and the chaos and the uncertainty—you feel free.

the hallway outside her apartment is quiet in that late-night way—too still, like the building itself knows something is ending.

you stand there with your hands tucked into the sleeves of your hoodie, the one that smells like her detergent and faint smoke and something warm you can’t name. your chest feels hollow. scraped out.

diana unlocks the door. the click is final. sharp. she doesn’t step inside right away. neither do you. for a second, you just look at each other. really look. like you’re trying to memorize bone structure. eyelashes. the way grief sits on a face before it breaks.

“say it,” you whisper. “if you’re going to say it—say it.” her jaw tightens. she shakes her head once.

“i can’t keep doing this to you,” she says quietly. “watching you shrink. watching them pick you apart.” you laugh, breathless and ruined. “i didn’t shrink with you. i shrank without you.”

that’s when it finally hits her. you see it—the crack. the split. the moment diana taurasi stops being untouchable and just becomes a woman standing in a hallway about to lose the person she loves.

you step forward first. your hands find her sweater, fingers curling like you’re afraid she’ll disappear if you let go. she exhales shakily, forehead dropping to yours.

“one more time,” you say. not a request. a plea. she hesitates. that hurts more than anything. then she leans in.

the kiss is slow. devastating. all memory and muscle and regret. like your bodies know this language too well to pretend they’re strangers now.

you kiss her like you’re saying goodbye to a life you wanted.

she kisses you like she’s apologizing for surviving without you.

when she pulls back, you don’t even realize you’re crying until your vision blurs and your breath stutters.

tears spill anyway—hot, ugly, uncontained. your face twists, mouth trembling, heartbreak written all over you like you didn’t even try to hide it.

diana cups your face immediately.

“hey,” she whispers. “hey. don’t—don’t do that.”

she wipes your tears with her thumbs, gentle. reverent. like she’s handling something sacred she doesn’t deserve to keep.

“you’re so strong,” she murmurs, voice breaking. “you shouldn’t have had to be.”

you press your forehead into her palm. “i wanted it to be you.”

it breaks her.

you see it happen. shoulders sagging. eyes shining.

“it was,” she says. “it is. that’s the problem.” she kisses your forehead. then your cheek. then pulls away before she changes her mind.

the door opens behind her.

light spills out. warm. cruel.

“don’t disappear,” you whisper. she pauses. hand on the doorframe.

“i could never,” she says softly. “you’ll be everywhere.”

then she steps inside. the door closes. and you’re left in the hallway with love still burning in your chest and nowhere to put it.

[thatonepersononline]

ugh nika muhl is so pretty 😻😻

[baigepueckers]

she’s so prettyyyy

[boobabietch]

Breed me.

[thatonepersononline]

current mood! 🫶🫶

[thatonepersononline]

exam week..

it’s not even monday and i’ve already crashed out

[riorgail]

thinking about this font of paige bueckers

[thatonepersononline]

she’s so hot

[thatonepersononline]

Cannot beliiiiieve I found someone who writes for Criminal Minds and Lockwood and Co!? 😭 I have a separate cm blog @halamet-chalamet

Buuut could I possible request Anthony Lockwood x reader when he got shot? Maybe just kinda domestic the next morning reader is dotting over him?

Anyway thank you byyyye

Love is the Only Remedy

omg, this is such a cute idea! also i literally love CM and Lockwood and co, they are my fav shows!! also sorry this took forever!!

summary: after finding out lockwood was shot. you want nothing more than to help him.

warnings: mentions of being shot, mentions of blood, spoilers

word count: 566

Lockwood had just gotten back from what was supposed to be a normal investigation. well at least that’s what i thought as i sat at the kitchen table the next morning. Lucy, George, and Lockwood didn’t come home last night and i was worried. so when i heard the familiar creak of the front door opening, i practically jumped up out of your seat. as i rushed to the hallway, i see Lucy looking tired but with a hint of something else.

“Lucy, what happened? you guys said you’d be back within 3 hours, but..” the words die in my throat as i see George helping Lockwood through the door. He looks like he’s been through hell. Blood dried on his shirt, a tired and dull look in his eyes that was only there when he had pushed himself passed his limits, but most importantly a sling on his arm. my mouth falls open as a million thoughts run through my head.

“don’t freak out love. i’m okay” Lockwood says with a cocky smile as he tries to move his arm some but all it leads to is a slight grimace. “what happened last night.. what happened to you guys.” shock buzzed through me, i was scrambling for answers in my mind. finally, they explain everything that happened. from the bone glass to Joplin being evil, and how Lockwood was shot.

as i sit at the kitchen table letting their words sink in. we sit in silence as one by one George and Lucy leave for their rooms until it’s just me and him at the table. “it’s not as bad as it looks” Lockwood says with a smile as his good arm moves to my hand. “not as bad as it looks,” i scoff slightly, “Lockwood you were shot in the shoulder” i stare at him with worry in my eyes before he gets up and to start making tea. as he grimaces from pain for the second time, i stand up. “what do you think you’re doing..” i ask softly, coming up behind him. “i’m making us tea, dear,” he mutters as he tries to grab the kettle with his hurt arm. i smile softly “well dear,” i mock his words playfully, “you were shot, so im going to make us tea while you make your way to the bedroom”

with little argue from Lockwood he makes his way to our shared bedroom. a little after him i make my way to our room with two cups of tea in hand. when i enter the room i see him struggling to get his shirt off. “need help?” i offer softly as i set our cups down on the bedside table. i hear a soft grumble from him and a couple words that sound like, “stupid.. shot.. no help” i laugh at his attempts as i make my way to him. i help him unbutton his shirt before pulling it off. i standup on my tiptoes and peck his lips quickly. we work together in silence. i help him put a clean shirt on and new pants before we lie down in bed together, the smell of our mint tea swirling through the air, calming us. “come here honey” i mutter as i pull him back to lay on my chest. i slowly drag my fingers through his hair. “i can’t believe you were shot” i mumble as his shoulders finally lose some of their tension. “at least i put up a good fight” he laughs softly. i smile at his words before kissing his head, “you know what this means right… i get to help you, eve if you say no” i laugh as he grumbles about not needing help. we both quiet down after that. i hear his breathing become slower as he drifts off to sleep, with a small smile i mumble an “i love you” into his hair before falling asleep after him.

[gabriellalxm]

ITS FINALLYY KINKTOBER👅

[abeeloves]

guys I need more Anthony Ramos things.. like yes i love Parker yes I love javi yes I love every character this fine man has played BUT WHAT ABOUT THE ACTUAL MAN HIMSELF?! I CANT FIND ANY AND I NEEEEED IT. I just saw Hamilton live in playhouse square and now I’m back on my Hamilton shit

Idc it’s its smut idc if it’s fluff idc if it breaks my heart (actually I do I lwk hate agnst) I JUST NEED IT PRETTY PLEASE

[elysianavenue]

hi i need more fics of this man please and thank you.