#-something Viv would do ]

[phddyke]

OH? OHOHOHO

[sluckythewizard]

YOU JUST HƎARD IT FROM [HIS MOUTH] FOR SURƎ!!!

[momentomori24]

Normally I don't like calling out specific names when it's a large number of people doing stupid shit but holy fucking shit I actually need Limus to log off and never breathe a word about anything Hazbin related ever again

[evulosie]

THERE ARE A FEW THEORIES I ENTERTAIN WHEN IT COMES TO LUTE’S ORIGIN, EACH BRANCHING FROM A DIFFERENT INTERPRETATION OF HER IDENTITY — CLICK THE READ-MORE FOR THE RAMBLINGS OF A MAD WOMAN,

The first possibility, [ & currently the default in my portrayal, ] is that Lute is Eve. The Eve who ate from the fruit, bore Abel, & ultimately ushered sin into the world [ ‘The Mother of Everyone Living’ ]. But rather than languish in shame & sorrow, she responds with violent overcorrection — channeling her regret into unwavering devotion to divine order & an unrelenting bloodlust toward sinners. She sees judgment as penance, each execution a desperate attempt to repay a debt that cannot be balanced,

The second possibility [ this is also my failsafe once my wishful theory gets disproven ] is that Lute is not that Eve, but she is made from Adam’s rib — created not as his companion, but as his lieutenant. Forged directly from him to serve beside him; Lute would still be tied physically & spiritually to Adam, literally a part of him, imprinted at the very moment of her creation & fuels her unwavering loyalty.

Meanwhile, the Eve referenced in Charlie’s story [ the shadowy silhouette who may ultimately turn out to be Roo in some way, bore Abel, who may have slept with Lucifer & dons the ‘Mother of All Living’ title ] is not made from Adam at all, but rather, also made from dust / dirt / clay [ or, alternatively, from Lilith's rib ]. This would also explain her nearly identical appearance to Lilith, [ if we are to assume the SpindleHorse employee's Eve design is canon ]; similar results to the first!

In some Jewish midrashic & mystical texts, there are stories where two versions of Eve were created; the first Eve being made from the same dust / clay / dirt Adam was [ note, not to be confused with Lilith, though other texts / narratives conflate the two ] but Adam rejects her for being too independent, grotesque or disturbing; one version of the story even says that Adam rejected her because she was formed full of secretions, blood & filth, then demands God make him another Eve which is where 'the' Eve, comes in,

A third possibility is that Lute is not Eve herself, but is a clone [ or an extension ] — a copy with a purpose, much like Re-L & Monad from Ergo Proxy. She is not the original sinner, but a reflection of her — carrying the original Eve’s guilt, drive, & memory without fully belonging to her. Which works absolutely divine for ( my ) lore, because if Lute is merely a copy striving to surpass her origin, the potential psychological consequences are huge: her sense of self becomes a battleground — a soul crumbling & writhing beneath the pressure to be better than the woman she was never allowed to become,

A fourth possibility would be that Lute wasn’t the Eve, but she was an Eve; a prototype, a rough draft. Who’s to say Heaven didn’t go through some trial & error before settling on the final version? Maybe she was the first, maybe she was one of several created for Adam after the original disobeyed. Maybe, her memories were altered / fabricated, provided to her by divine design / necessity. Perhaps her Adam is long dead… or worse, was never real to begin with. She failed the first Adam & so, her loyalty to the current one is absolute, fanatical; she can’t bear to fail him again,

BONUS: My non-Lute-is-Eve theory [ which, despite my wishful thinking, I think will be the winner out of whatever delusions I've conjured up here ] is that Lute, along with all the Exorcists, were made specifically for this division — she was the first soldier to be created & was under Adam's tutelage; she is clearly very passionate about 'one of their own' being killed by Carmilla. & perhaps the reason for being so angry at Vaggie, is that she betrayed her 'family'. Lute was created for one purpose, & it's all she knows, as that would be literally what she was created for. Essentially, identical to my second theory, just that she wouldn't be created from Adam's rib...

[sallieraptor]

thinking that Blitz must have more lesbian oc ponies than we canonically have characters in both series together

[calyroco]

At this point, the fact that Chaz keeps getting merch makes me wonder if the show is gonna pull a "We didn't show the body!" and bring him back for another episode

[certifiablyinsanez]

I really hope that now, the people who have been under-appreciating the class and racial dynamics of the show and Blitz and Stolas’ relationship can now realize that Blitz had every right to have doubts and worries over Stolas’ character when it came to their gap.

Do you know what this episode reminds me of? Authoritarian, dictatorial rule. People have opinions of public execution in the real world. It’s something that actually happens. Even for peoples and societies that don’t currently commit to public executions more than likely have a past history of doing so. And the realities of this very real thing were made clear in this episode. Because Blitz, and even all of IMP, was going to die. And in the real world, you probably don’t have a royal lover to save you at the last second. It is a real tool used by cruel masters to keep people in line, to invoke terror and submission. We all saw their faces.

A family of imps, children watching. The little girl closing her eyes sadly.

His best friend and loved ones watching him get his head lopped off.

Even his scorned ex who he viciously hurt is horrified by this.

Just because we knew Blitz was going to be saved, should in no way erase the seriousness of this event. This is something used to enforce submission, to instill fear. Satan mentions how he created imps to be obedient. This was meant to be a reminder to all the lowly people in hell that their place is in the dirt. Because Blitz is only moderately successful for his race. By the standards of higher classes he would still be seen as a low-rate wannabe business man running a seedy operation. His is not rich by any means. His business only produces enough to moderately support his family and his workers.

And he was about to be killed for it.

He was about to be executed because he was a little too uppity. Because he dared to be anything other than what was designated for his race. Let that sink in. Imagine if you were executed on international television just because you wanted a better career and life. This is the reality in Hell. And the unfairness of it all is so blatantly seen when Stolas is harshly punished but still allowed to live. Not only that, but it was put on public record that he’s silly to think he would be killed because “his life actually has worth”. That’s insane.

And I need everyone to apologize and write Viv and her team love letters because these dynamics EXIST IN REAL LIFE. They are real and have real consequences, and this is real for the POC that lives down the street from you. This is not something that happens in a backwards place 10,000 miles away. It’s in everyone’s backyard. This episode was beautifully written and I look forward to every new episode to come.

[cherrygirlfriend]

─── YOU'VE GOT MAIL .ᐟ

...or him dreaming of you.

★ pairing.ᐟ frat!rafe x nerd!reader

★ summary.ᐟ rafe cameron is the golden boy of kildare university; certified frat boy, captain of the football team, relentless party animal with lines of girls to sleep with.

reader couldn't be more different; while she has the best grades in the whole school, she suffers from social anxiety disorder, and her social life is limited to her three best friends and the cat she secretly snuck into her dorm room.

both of them decide to join the anonymous chatroom for their campus, and start talking to one another, a friendship starting to form between the two; but neither of them know how different the other is.

★ author's note.ᐟ this is a bit of a fluffy filler… i have something exciting coming for them it makes me giggle!!

YOU'VE GOT MAIL!

the fall break was coming up, and so far, the only plan you had was to crash over at vivian's place, fully aware that you were less than welcome to go home to your parents. you were on your laptop, your messages with MalachiConstant open on KildareUChats.

YOU: you got any plans for over the break?

MalachiConstant: yeah, a bunch of us are going to our buddy's lakehouse.

YOU: geez, i'm jealous.

MalachiConstant: well i'd invite you to tag along but i'm pretty sure your response would be 'i'd rather die'

YOU: you know me so well, vonnegut. YOU: nah, my plan is to go to my friends' place, we're just gonna spend the entire week playing video games and watching really bad romcoms while eating half our bodyweight in junk food.

MalachiConstant: and is the cat coming too?

you chuckled, looking to angel who was currently munching on her dinner, before turning back to your laptop.

YOU: nah, i got a catsitter. my friend's mom is allergic.

MalachiConstant: damn, cat-free and everything. MalachiConstant: don't do anything i wouldn't do poe

YOU: i don't think there's much you wouldn't do. YOU: i still remember you telling me about diving off a roof into a pool.

MalachiConstant: hey, i used to take swimming lessons. i was a pro at work

YOU: and also under a nice amount of promilles.

MalachiConstant: someone's just jealous because she doesn't have the balls to dive off a roof.

YOU: let's not get it twisted. i'm smart enough to not dive off a roof.

you and vivian were studying in the library for an exam, when she suddenly spoke up. "so… i have some news." vivian looked at you with pursed lips, making you instantly aware that whatever her news was, it would not be good.

"what is it, viv?" you asked, trying not to show to the girl how nervous you were. "come on, spit it out."

"soo... topper kind of invited me to come hang out with him over the break..." she tapped the rubber end of her pencil against the desk. "alright...?" you questioned, your brows furrowed. "what's so bad about that?"

"it's for the whole week." vivian cleared her throat, "at his family's lake house..."

"viv!" you groaned in exasperation, "we have plans. you told him no, right? that we were hanging out for the break?"

"well..." she looked down, doing everything to keep her eyes anywhere but on your face, "i kind of said i'd talk to you about it..."

"i can't believe you." you scoffed, "you're ditching me. you know the crap i go through when i go home and you're-"

"no, it's not like that!" your best friend interrupted, putting her hand on your arm as a way to calm you down. "i told him that i couldn't do it because i was gonna hang out with you, but then he told me to bring you along. and he said i can bring zainab and emilia along, too. zainab said she couldn't make it, but em is fully in."

you shook your head, letting out a soft scoff, "vivian, you know how bad my anxiety is. spending a week with a bunch of strangers sounds like my worst nightmare."

"hear me out." vivian insisted, "most of the football team is gonna be there. which means that your online boyfriend is also likely gonna be there."

"so?"

"so you have a chance to finally find out your mystery guy's identity! then you'll fall in love, get married and have a bunch of babies who'll call me auntie viv and i'll secretly buy them beer when they're too young to buy it themselves."

"i'm seriously starting to think that you don't have any morals."

"i'm dead inside." the pink-haired girl shrugged her shoulders, "so? are you in?"

"what makes you think i want to know the identity of the dude?"

"the fact that you get all giggly whenever your damn phone lights up like you're a middle schooler passing notes with your crush. you wanna be with him, don't you? you're so much more open, so much happier than you were BFB."

"BFB?"

"before frat boy." vivian grinned at her own wit, softly nudging your arm, "you totally have the hots for him."

"no one says that anymore." you rolled your eyes, fiddling with the edge of a sheet of paper, "i'm nervous. what if he doesn't like me?"

"girl, shut up." vivian let out a frustrated groan, "i've seen the messages you send each other. it's like the online version of eye-fucking someone. seriously, you two might as well be sexting, and that would somehow be less couple-y than the shit you have going on now."

"we're not that bad!" you exclaim in feigned offense, making vivian lift her brows, "not that bad? what did the message he sent you last night say again... something about dreaming about just staring into your eyes. him asking you to describe how they look just so it could be accurate?"

you couldn't help but feel your cheeks starting to burn as you thought back to the messages you'd been exchanging the night before.

YOU: i'm currently looking up at the stars. YOU: i actually took an astronomy class a while back!

MalachiConstant: of course you did, nerd. MalachiConstant: you know what'd be nice?

YOU: i'm sure you'll tell me!

MalachiConstant: ha ha. MalachiConstant: i wanna look at the stars with you, poe. i can picture you womansplaining all the constellations and shit.

YOU: aww, that's weirdly kinda sweet. YOU: who are you and what have you done with vonnegut boy?

MalachiConstant: really appreciate how seriously you're taking this MalachiConstant: i dream of you sometimes, you know

YOU: oh? YOU: what do you dream about?

MalachiConstant: all kinds of sappy shit MalachiConstant: i dream of just staring into your eyes MalachiConstant: i'm pretty sure your eyes are gorgeous

YOU: good theory. you don't even know what they look like. does that line seriously work on any girls?

MalachiConstant: maybe you should describe them to me.

you bit down on your bottom lip, vivian looking at you with an expectant look on her face, "he likes you, sweetie. and he's still gonna like you when he finds out who you really are. if he doesn't, then he's a fucking idiot."

"viv-"

"say yes. say that you'll come. what do you have to lose?"

letting out a sigh, you shook your head, vivian looking at you with a pleading look in her eyes. "i hate you, viv."

"is that a yes?"

"yeah." you rolled your eyes, "it's a yes."

TAGLIST: @yktayy9669 @tinythebunni @dywho @melalsworld @akobx @samwinchesterisawhore @st8rkey @jjasmiineee @ltristessedureratoujours @a-lovers-card @uselessnewt @lunaleah @letstryagaintomorrow @cinnamqnnlatte @papapoy @kay133sposts @wtfisastiles @butterfly1c @emmiesummers @melodyyybubbles @toomanywhitelies @littl3loveydovey @scne-vampire @alwaysmaybank @mysticbby2009 @luna443 @drewstarkeyswife-7 @flowerluvr @kisselxoll - cont. in com

[volno-pesh]

" I have depression "

" I have daddy issues " / " - No, I just don't talk with my dad that much. " " - Pfffft!!! Daddy issues 😜😜😜😜 "

Characters development bitches

It's not enough to tell you have honestly quite serious problems, you like have to have them????

Imagine writing a story where nothing happens and characters just say " I have a [problem viv gave] "

Lucifer having depression is only brought up in this one line, and even then it’s played off as a joke. Nothing about his character aside from that indicates he has depression.

[withleeknow]

lemuria.

pairing: hyunjin x reader genre/warnings: established relationship; fluff; unedited bc i suck, self-indulgent etc etc, this is pretty straightforward idk word count: 0.7k note: SO! the only reason i wrote this was bc of a certain purple-haired artist who altered my entire brain chemistry just by saying the words "ma petite artiste" 🫠 iykyk! but please tell me someone knows bc i am dying to talk about this with more people. even the title of this drabble is another desperate attempt to find my people lmao

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

In your head, you have a list of favorite things that can’t easily be topped: Saturday mornings (it’s the best time of the week, argue with the wall), cuddles with Hyunjin, and cuddles with Hyunjin on Saturday mornings. Not necessarily in that order though. You’re a simple woman.

You’re in bed, draped over his chest like a lazy house cat, watching as the sunlight slowly filters into your bedroom. Hyunjin’s got one arm around you and the other reaching for his lap, where he’s balancing a pencil and his open sketchbook, gracefully dragging the pointed graphite head across the page until the doodle is detailed enough for you to recognize. It’s nothing special — just the (dying) plant that sits in the corner of the room. At first glance, it seems healthy, lusciously green and thriving but really, it’s grown too leggy to be able to survive on its own.

You call it Viv, short for Vivian, which obviously is an unconventional name for a plant. Hyunjin says goodbye to it every time he leaves the house. In a way, you suppose it’s like a child that you care for with him, something that you try to keep alive and nurture together.

You sigh, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. Your artist, your love. Your muse too if you were even one tenth as gifted as he is.

The sun ventures further into your safe space, tiptoeing across the wooden floors like slowly-skipping stones, brushing against every object in sight until it reaches the two of you. You lean back when the light lands on him, smoothing over his soft, soft hair, caressing his cheeks, weaving itself in the tiny spaces between his fluttering eyelashes. You’d put him in a museum if you could.

You don’t know what compels you to reach out, but your hand has a mind of its own anyway. It makes him pause the sketch, your fingertips tracing the slope of his nose and the curve of his lips. His chiseled jawline and the beauty mark that you love to kiss. Hyunjin, Hyunjin, Hyunjin – important things must be repeated thrice.

“What are you doing?” he asks, a glint of amusement in his sharp eyes.

“This is my way of drawing you,” you say, completely unbothered, enamored with the way his smooth skin feels under your finger.

He hums, abandoning the pencil and the sketchbook in favor of catching your wrist and pressing his lips to the palm of your hand.

“Ma petite artiste,” he murmurs against your skin.

For some reason, it floors you. Flabbergasts you, stuns you into silence for a few seconds.

When you come to, you make a show of dramatically arching an eyebrow, a silent accusation despite the way your face flushes with a rosy tint, burning you from the inside out. You can barely suppress the smile that tugs on your lips, and Hyunjin catches it oh so easily.

“Where did you learn that?” you probe with affection. “Who are you trying to impress?”

“Duolingo,” he says as he moves to press you against the bed, ignoring the second question in its entirety because it simply doesn’t warrant an answer. Who else would he do anything for but you? Who else would it ever be for?

“Duolingo,” you repeat in amusing disbelief, barely containing the laugh that threatens to escape from your throat even though the heat on your cheeks is still painfully obvious to the both of you. You’re shy, embarrassed that all it took to melt you was a couple of cheesy French words he learned on Duolingo of all places, but Hyunjin is endeared, always so damn endeared by you and everything you do. “That owl teaches people how to flir–!”

He doesn’t let you finish your sentence, doesn’t let you get to the quip before he’s kissing away whatever remaining wit you have in your flustered state. The kiss, deep and slow and intimate in a way that sets fire to the heart inside your ribcage; his lips, addictively soft and wonderfully warm, much like the caramel sunlight that dances over the two of you.

It’s Saturday morning, and your plant is still (probably) dying but you can’t really bring yourself to care about it right now, not when you’re drunk on his pillowy smile pressed against your own, on his quiet giggles as he tries to make you blush.

It’s Saturday morning, and Hyunjin is your favorite person in the world.

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 06.03.2025]

[wosospacegirl]

And they were roommates - part 7

Summary: Y/n gets injured and has to stay in recovery for 8 months. It's a good thing her friend and teammate Kyra is more than willing to move in with her. wink wink

Warnings: peer pressure leading to a kitty adoption!!! making out!! a little bit of angsty (really just a tiny tiny bit); Leah and Y/n being your favourite grumpy duo.

Word count: 5.3k

Masterlist

You can read part 1 here and part 8 here

..

“So how did it all start, tell me everything!” Beth said enthusiastically in the middle seat in the back.

“Oh fuck", Y/n and Leah said in unison, Leah holding the bridge of her nose.

It was very clear that  Beth had only joined the drive to Lia’s because she wanted to interrogate Y/n and Kyar about their relationship, not because she was truly moved by the loss of her teammates' pet.

Kyra was too busy driving to care and Alessia was in her own little world, holding the cake that said ‘We’re sorry your cta died’ that they had just bought on their way to Lia’s house.

“Was this going on before your injury? Or was it after?” Beth asked, sticking her head between the two front seats 

“After,” Y/n said, pushing Beth’s head back into her seat. “Get back, man!”

“They were so head over heels for each other,” Alessia said. “I don’t know how you didn't see it before.”

“I knew Kyra was bullshitting with the whole ‘I’m moving in because she needs a friend around’ thing. Beth said proudly.

“Hey! I did move in to help her out, okay? Kyra said defensively. “Things just…happened.”

“Was it you or Kyra that initiated it?” Beth asked, ignoring Y/n

“It was very much mutual,” Y/n said.

“Hmm.” Beth nodded like she was putting the pieces of a puzzle together. “Interesting.” 

The car was silent.

“Who initiated the first kiss?” Beth continued to pry, gathering more and more pieces of information. “Come on, don’t hide anything. We’re all friends here!” 

���Please don’t tell us,” Leah murmured, almost begging.

Y/n rolled her eyes but replied. “Me, we were watching a film.”

“What film?” 

"Oh bloody hell," Leah groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Beth, I swear to God, does it fucking matter?" She tried to elbow Beth—a warning shot. But Beth, unrelenting, elbowed her back with double the force.

Kyra put a hand on Y/n’s tight.

“I’m going to throw this car into the next truck that passes us,” she said with a smile.

“Oh, good idea baby! Please, put us out of our misery,” Y/n said, matching Kyra’s energy.

“Oh don’t act so superior, Leah Cathrine, you just don’t care because you knew it all from the start!” Beth said, narrowing her eyes. 

“Some of us had to find out the hard way," Beth said, clutching her chest like she had been wounded. "There I was, minding my own business, and then, out of nowhere, boom! A full-on snogging session in my place of work. I may never recover." 

“Beth?!” Kyra said, turning her head around but quickly returning her attention back to the road. “We weren’t snogging!”

“Yeah, you interrupted us before we could actually do anything, Beth.” Y/n rolled her eyes.”

“Y/n!” Kyra blushed. “You’re instigating her!”

“For fucks sake do not have sex on our changing room, Y/n” Leah warned. “Or else I’ll have Renée bench both of you.”

Alessia hummed as she looked out the window. “Well…” She paused, letting the tension build. Then, without emotion, she shrugged. “They wouldn’t be the first couple to do that.”

“What?!” Everyone asked at the same time, turning to Alessia.

“Who the hell is having sex in the changing room?” Kyra asked. “That place smells of something, not romantic at all.”

After turning to Alessia, everybody turned their attention to Beth and looked at her suspiciously. There weren’t many couples on the teams, so their options were really limited.

“Oh, do you guys really think Viv would agree to have sex in a changing room? She’s plain. It wasn't us!” Beth said, rolling her eyes. “My wife is a respectable lady, but also boring as hell."

“Caitlin and Katie,” Alessia said casually as if she wasn't bomb-dropping the biggest gossip around. “Before they were even dating, by the way."

“And how do you know that?” Kyra asked

“I’ve got eyes in all the right places,” Alessia said jokingly, but none of the girls took it as a joke.

The song on the radio was the only sound on the car for a few seconds. But that's all it was. Seconds.

“So… did you guys wait long before you ha–” 

“Beth, if you say one more word, I swear I’ll crash the car,” Kyra said, mortified.

“Make it a murder-suicide, Cooney-Cross,” Leah muttered. “Maybe Beth will shut up for once.”

“Guys, do you think this is too much?” Alessia said, completely ignoring the banter and staring at the cake. “What if she cries because we wrote about the cat dying on the cake.”

“She’s gonna cry anyway,” Y/n said, watching Alessia in the rearview mirror. 

“I agree with Alessia, maybe we shouldn’t have written about her cat’s death on the cake,” Beth said. “Maybe she’ll get sad thinking about it again.”

“Oh come on,” Y/n said, preparing to defend her idea. “How else are we going to get our message across…that we’re here to support her and celebrate her cat’s life!”

“You know, some people just use words,” Leah muttered from her seat. “Not whole ass writings in a cake with pink icing.”

“Oh look who’s talking!” Y/n said defensively. “On my last birthday, you sent me a Spotify link to the Happy Birthday song! Miss ‘people use words.”

“I literally posted a story on my Instagram for you too, you ungrateful–”

“Okay, we’re here!” Kyra said, pulling down to Lia’s driveway. “We’re finally, finally here,” she said the last part in a whisper, like a prayer.

“Everybody out, come on,” Y/n said as they all got out of the car. She was the last one to leave, having to wait for Kyra to pick up her crutches.

The five girls stood in front of Lia's door, Kyra went to ring the bell, but Y/n held her wrist.

“Let’s just set some rules first,” Y/n said, “Kyra no dead cat puns, please. Leah, remember the whole thing about being nice. Beth, let Lia do the talking, alright? Let her vent.” Y/n said, pointing at each one. “And Alessia–”

The blonde looked up at her, cake in her hand.

“Just be yourself, babe,” she said, smiling.

“Why does Alessias get to be herself but I–”

“Not another word, Leah,” Y/n said in a warning. “Be. Nice.”

Leah rolled her eyes but remained quiet.

As Y/n nodded to Kyra,  she rang the doorbell, and in a few seconds Lia opened the door, but they were not prepared for the scene in front of them.

Lia was holding not one, not two, but three kittens. The girl was wearing a grey robe, her hair was in a messy bun, tears streaming down her face.

The five girls stared at Lia, each of them with their mouths agape.

“Guys I think I messed up! I went into full-on mourning mode and kind of panicked-adopted these three babies while I went to the vet to look at cremation stuff for Guler and they–” She held up the three kittens. “–were staring at me and–and I’d just lost my Guler boy, so I took them and now I can’t keep them all!”

Lia was sobbing, barely able to understand what she was saying, the poor girl was a mess and the poor kittens on her hands looked frightened.

Y/n was at a loss of what to say, so she did the first thing that came to mind. 

She took the cake from Alessia’s hand and gave Lia a nervous smile.

“Uhm, well, we bought cake!” 

..

Beth and Alessia were able to calm Lia down as Leah and Kyra took each kitten and put them on their laps. They were so small and tiny, they were barely two months old.

The one Kyra was holding was a little black one, and Leah had two, a ginger and a tabby cat, neither of which had a name yet.

Y/n, well, she was on cake duty. 

She had cut a piece of cake for each girl, and they were eating on the floor of Lia’s bedroom, while the girl talked about everything that had happened so far.

Guler had died of old age. She had taken him to the vet to be cremated. There was an adoption fair going on and she panicked-adopted the three kittens–and the only ones left– but when she got home she realised she couldn’t look after them all.

“I was so stupid!” Lia cried on Beth's shoulder as Alessia patted her back.

“You weren’t stupid, you’re just grieving,” Alessia said as she watched  Lia take a piece of her cake.

Alessia was right once again. Lia did cry even harder when she read what was written on the cake, maybe next time Y/n wouldn’t suggest writing about the loss of a pet in pink glaze. Noted.

“Grieving people do stuff like that all the time, babe, it’s okay, we’ll fix it,” Leah said, giving her pinky finger for the tabby cat to bite playfully. 

“We can keep one,” Kyra said bluntly, picking up the black kitty with her two hands and practically shoving it in Y/n’s face. “Right, Y/n?”

Y/n almost choked on her cake. 

“What? Of course not!” Y/n said. “We can’t have a cat!”

Lia started to cry even harder, from her corner of the room, Beth and Alessia gave Y/n a death stare.

Mean, Alessia mouthed to her. 

Great, just great.

“Oh fuck, sorry Lia, I’m sure we will find it another ho–”

“But look at him!” Kyra insisted, holding the cat close enough to Y/n that one of its hairs went into Y/n eyes. “He 's so cute.”

Y/n narrowed her eyes at the tiny creature in Kyra’s hands. Its body was scrawny, but its belly was huge, and its ears were far too big for its face. It was… desproporcional. And somehow adorable. Not that she’d admit it.

“Meow,” the thing said.

Still, she crossed her arms. “No.”

She had never had a pet before, too busy with the football season and the FIFA calendar to take care of one. When she had holidays and days off, she was most definitely not at her home, so she really couldn’t have had a pet before. 

“I think I’ll keep this one,” Leah murmured, kissing the tabby’s cat in the face. “I like her.”

Kyra turned her face quickly to Y/n. The biggest doe eyes she had ever seen. Kyra was a kid in a candy shop, and Y/n wasn’t allowing her to take up anything.

“Please?” Kyra begged with a pout, putting the cat on her chest, and holding it like a baby. An ugly one at least.

“No.”

“Please!”

“Kyra, no!”

“But Leah got one!”

“And what does that have to do with anything? If Leah jumps off a cliff–”

“Yes!” Kyra answered before Y/n could finish.

“Oh my god just take the cat!” Leah said, as her cat purred. “It might do you some good, maybe you won’t be a pain in the ass anymore.

“I’m not a pain in the ass! I’m responsible, I actually think before I make a big life commitment like adopting a living being!”

Y/n realised what she had said before she had said it. She didn’t need the smack on the back of her head to realise it.

“Y/n!” Beth and Alessia said in unison.

Lia, who had stopped crying, started sobbing again.

“I-I’m sorry! I knew I was being irresponsible and now I have to find another home for at least one of them ” Lia cried her hands in her face.

Kyra held her kitten closer and gave Y/n a judgmental look as Leah slapped her own face and dragged her hand across it.

Y/n hadn’t expected to be the mean on this outing. Leah was usually the one who said insensitive things, not her.

Well done, Y/n.

“Okay, I’m sorry!” Y/n said, looking at everyone in the room, her hands hanging defensively in the air.

Y/n walked over to Lia and hugged her. “I didn't mean it like that, baby. I’m sorry, yeah? Me and Kyra will keep the black one, Leah will have the tabby one and you can keep the other one, does that sound okay?”

Before Lia could answer, Kyra was back on her two feet, cat in hand and the biggest smile on her face.

“We’re keeping him? Really?” She asked enthusiastically

“Yes,” Y/n murmured, patting Lia’s back.

"Leah, our cats are brothers and sisters. That makes us family,” Kyra declared proudly.

Leah stared at her, dead inside. “Don’t fucking start, Cooney-Cross.”

..

“But–”

“Not a single word, Kyra.”

Kyra snapped her mouth shut, but Y/n could see the argument bubbling under the surface as she focused on the road.

Kyra was driving Y/n and their new family member, Footy, to their home. 

Yes, Kyra was the one who named it.

They had dropped all the girls off at their respective houses before heading to three different pet shops to buy everything Footy needed. 

Y/n didn’t even know that a cat needed clothes, I mean, they already had their fur, right? But Kyra insisted on buying it a jumper like her own life depended on it. 

A bloody jumper. It looked more like a sock because of its size.

“It was time that we added a new member to our family!” Kyra declared proudly, one hand on the wheel, the other gesturing dramatically.

Y/n blinked at her. “I’m sorry—time? Time for what?”

Kyra nodded towards the kitten in Y/n’s lap as if it was obvious.

“Kyra, my love, we’ve been going out for two months,” Y/n said, reluctantly,  patting the thing in her lap.

“We’re gay,” Kyra said simply, glancing at Y/n as if that was the whole explanation. Then she shrugged. “That’s more like two years.”

“It was a reckless decision, Kyra!” Y/n argued, letting the thing bite her hands with its thin teeth. “How are we going to take care of it when we’re gone?”

Kyra sighed and made an L-turn. “We can either take him–stop calling the baby it–or we can leave him in a pet daycare for a few days.”

“I’m not paying a pet daycare for a car!” Y/n rolled her eyes, scratching Footy’s head–was it normal for it to have a bald spot near his ear?! 

“Then we’ll take him with us wherever we go, just like that,” Kyra winked at her.

Y/n wanted to argue and stand her ground.

But she didn’t. She breathed in and out, feeling the air coming to her lungs, her anger slowly coming to an end.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Kyra asked, confused.

“Yep,” Y/n said, with no emotion in her voice. “We’re cat parents now.”

Kyra narrowed her eyes, Y/n never let an argument go that easily.

“You are the one who’s going to clean its litter tray,” Y/n said.

There it was, Kyra thought.

“And you’re the one taking it on walks.”

“Cats don’t need walks,” Kyra said. “Have you seriously never been around animals your whole life?”

Y/n blushed slightly. “Well, if it ever needs one, you’ll be the one to do it.”

“Okay, ma’am,” Kyra said, making the captain salute with one hand while she held the wheel with the other. “I guess you’ll be an absent mother then.”

“No, I won't!” Y/n murmured. “It’ll feed it.” 

Y/n scratched Footy’s big belly. Maybe she could be a good cat mom.

..

When they got home, Kyra turned her old room into Footy’s.  She put his litter tray, toys, bed and scratching post next to what had once been her bed.

Since Kyra had been sleeping–pretty much every day–on Y/n’s bed, she didn’t need the room anymore.

Footy was very tired when Kyra put him on his little bed. 

Being panic-adopted by a grieving football player and then being adopted again by two other football players was too much for the little black kitty. The cat was sleeping as soon as Kyra turned off the lights.

When she got to her and Y/n’s room, she helped the girl out of her clothes, and they both lay down on the bed.

Y/n scrolled through her Instagram while Kyra read her book. She was already in the middle of a chapter when she noticed Y/n’s arm bushing against hers. The gentle touch was enough to remind Kyra that the couple had yet to kiss today.

Silently, Kyra put her book down on the bedside table and took the phone from  Y/n’s hand.

“Hey! Give me–”

“I wanna kiss you,” Kyra said, interrupting Y/n. “Right now,”

Y/n shut her mouth and grinned, forgetting about the phone immediately. 

“Do it, baby,” Y/n said, taking Kyra’s cheek in between her hands and bringing their lips closer. “You don’t have to ask me, you know that.”

The kiss was sweet and slow, their tongues swirling together, their saliva mixing.

“You haven’t kissed me all day,” Kyra whined against Y/n’s mouth.

“I’ve been waiting for you to do it,” Y/n whispered back.

In one swift movement, Kyra was hovering over Y/n, her legs on either side of Y/n’s body. 

Kyra kissed her again, this time urgently, her tongue slipping in fast, Y/n hands holding onto Kyra’s ribcage, pulling her closer and deepening the kiss.

“Missed you,” Y/n said. “A lot.”

“We were together all day, baby,” Kyra said, exploring her neck with her mouth.

“But not alone,” Y/n stated, moaning softly as Kyra sucked on her pulse. “I like being alone with you.”

Kyra moaned against her mouth and brought her hand to Y/n’s neck, resting it against her jugular. “You’re so pretty,” Kyra says, a string of saliva attached to each mouth. “And so hot, I want you all to myself.”

“Yeah? You think so?” Y/n teased, eyes closing and Kyra's mouth trailed down her neck, kissing her cold skin. “Then show me, make me feel good, please?”

“But we’ve talked about this,” Kyra mumbled as she bit the spot on Y/n’s neck, making the girl rock her hips as much as the cats on her leg would allow. “We’ll have to wait until your cast is off completely.”

Y/n took Kyra’s chin in her hand and gently pushed Kyra’s face until they were staring at each other. “Baby, I need you, please?” she begged again, trying to give Kyra her best doe eyes.”

Kyra smiled and kissed Y/n’s mouth.

“Just have to be patient, yeah?” Kyra said. “Now let me enjoy you, keep quiet.”

“You’re the one who keeps saying we have to wait, yet you’re the one holding me down,” she teased.

Before she could continue, Kyra’s palm silenced her.

“What did I say?” Kyra asked more sternly, raising one brow.

That tone made Y/n wet, very wet

“I’m not usually the one taking orders,” Y/n said, slightly confused by the shift of their dY/namic, but enjoying it nonetheless.

Kyra chuckled. “Just this once, ok?”

Y/n hesitated but nodded.

“Pretty girl,” Kyra said before returning her attention back to Y/n’s neck. The tip of her tongue trailing from the back of her jaw till the beginning of her cleavage, Y/n moved slightly, too caught up in how Kyra was making her feel.

Y/n tugged desperately at her shirt, but before she could remove it. Kyra held her wrists.

“What are you doing?” she asked, watching the way her hand wrapped perfectly around Y/n’s wrists. 

“It’s hot in here,” Y/n says, trying to sound innocent.

“We can turn the air conditioning on,” Kyra suggested.

Y/n rolled her eyes.

“Come on Ky don’t you wanna see my tits?” Y/n said, throwing away all her fake innocence and being her naturally blunt self

Kyra blushed. “We won’t have sex until you are completely healed.”

“I know,” Y/n said impatiently. “You’ve said that like 10 times already, but we can make out–with my shirt off.”

“Your shirt has to stay on,” Kyra said, getting up from Y/n’s body and sitting on her legs next to Y/n. “When the cast is off we–”

“–can have all the sex in the world, I know it.” Y/n huffed, kissed Kyra again, more desperately, trying to distract the girl.

Kyra accepted and deepened the kiss, her hands gripping Y/n’s waist.  Y/n arched into her, her breath shaky.

But then Y/n shifted slightly, and Kyra could feel the awkward angle of her cast pressing into her leg.

Kyra moaned against Y/n’s lips before she forced herself to pull away. “Fuck. No. We can’t.”

Y/n sighed and turned her body around to sit on the edge of the bed, leaning forward to take her crutches and get off the bed. “Okay, I’m off.”

“Where are you going?” Kyra asked. “We were making out, we can keep on doing that, we just have to go–slowly.”

“Yes, we were making out, ” Y/n rolled her eyes. “Until you decided to become a nun.”

“Oh come on, don’t be difficult! ” Kyra whined, throwing herself dramatically on the bed. “It’s hard for me too!”

“It looks like you are having way too much fun denying me,” Y/n said, matching Kyra’s dramatic attitude. 

Y/n wanted to put the fucking cast on fire. Never in her life had she been so cockblocked, kudos to Kyra as well.

“I’m not denying you!” Kyra argued, sitting back down on the bed. “Are you telling me you’ll be able to stop whatever we were doing if we were half naked?” 

Y/n was silent.

“See,” Kyra said, pointing at herself. “I'm right on this one, we don’t have self-control”

“You know what,” Y/n said, tapping her crutches against the floor, a habit she had developed whenever she was made. “You can fuck off!”

Kyra rolled her eyes and watched as Y/n walked out of the room.

“Where are you going?!” Kyra whined again, getting off the bed and following Y/n.

“I am going to take a very very cold shower,” Y/n said angrily. 

Kyra pinched the bridge of her nose. “Okay, let me grab your towel first and then we can do–”

“No! I’m taking a shower alone,” Y/n stated.

Kyra just looked at her,

“The last time you tried to take a shower alone you fell flat on your face, baby,” Kyra said nonchalantly. “Are you back to being stubborn and not accepting help or what?”

“Are you back to being annoying or what?” Y/n said, grumbling under her breath all the way to the bathroom before closing the door.

Kyra stood by the side of the door, counting on her fingers. 

Twenty-eight…

Twenty-nine...

“Kyra?” Y/n murmured, her voice soft through the door. “Are you there?

Kyra smirked proudly. She knew her girl.

“Always, baby,  do you want me to come in?”

“Yes.” She said,

Kyra went into the bathroom and found Y/n sitting on the toilet, her shirt was still on, but her trousers were at her feet.

“I can't take my trousers all the way off,” she explained, an impatient tone in her voice, she thought that she’d be getting used to the bloody cast by now.

“I’ll help you, it's all right,” Kyra said, getting down on her knees and taking her trousers off. She tapped on Y/n’s leg playfully. “Shall we get you into the shower?”

“Yes,” Y/n said, accepting the help.

Kyra took off Y/n’s shirt and she couldn't help herself.

“So now you want to take my shirt off?”

Kyra rolled her eyes. “We can always take a shower in our swimsuit, up to you, pretty girl.” 

“You’re an evil, evil woman.” 

..

The couple was lying on the sofa, enjoying their day off. It was a sunny Saturday. No games or training for Kyra and no physio for Y/n. It had been a long time since they had a day like this.

“FIFA date is coming up,” Y/n said as they watched yet another film Kyra had chosen, Footy lying down by Kyra’s side. 

“Uhun,” Kyra said, eyes glued to the television, her left hand stroking Footy. 

“Are you excited? Y/n asked, taking Kyra’s hand from Footy and putting it on her leg. “It’s the first time Australia is playing at the She Believes Cup, right?”

“It is yeah,” Kyra says, sounding bored. “It’s Colombia’s first time too; and I’m all right.” 

“You don't look too excited.” Kyra’s hand caressed her tight.”What's the matter? Too scared to play against Foxy?” Y/n joked, trying to lighten the mood. 

“Nah, Foxy’s good but we can handle her,” Kyra smiled. “I'm more worried about leaving you, actually,” she confessed, still not looking at her.

Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed, she took the remote and turned off the TV.

“Hey–”

Y/n cupped Kyra’s face so they were looking at each other.

“I’m trying to talk to you,” Y/n said, a little impatient in her voice. “What happened? You always  get so excited about playing for Australia, seeing Mimi and the other girls.”

Kyra hesitated.

“I–I just don’t want to leave you here, alone,” she confessed, “Half the girls from Arsenal got called up to their national teams.”

“So? They always do, I was expecting that already.”

“But you’ll be alone, all your friends will be at camp, and I won’t be here to help either.”

Y/n rolled her eyes.

 “Oh come on Kyra, I’m a lot more independent than I was months before,” Y/n said, partially annoyed.

“I just think it would be better if I didn't go,” Kyra muttered.

Y/n straightened her body and looked at the girl with wide eyes.

"Wait—you’re serious?" Y/n’s voice lost its teasing edge. She sat up straighter, her hands clenched into fists. "Kyra, be fucking for real. You would actually refuse a call-up? Do you really think I’m that fragile? That I can’t be on my own for a week without completely falling apart?”

Y/n was fuming.

“I didn’t say that; you’re putting words in my mouth,” Kyra said. “I’m just worried about leaving, we’ve been pretty much glued together for the last few months and everyone you know will be at camps as well.”

 “For your information, I have other friends who are not football players who will keep me company,” Y/n stated, crossing her arms. “My whole life doesn't revolve around football like you make it sound like.”

Y/n was getting frustrated with Kyra. Sure, it wouldn’t be the best feeling in the world to be stuck at home with the cat while everyone she knew was out doing what she wanted. 

But she already came to terms with it, she had cried all the tears she needed to cry, she had screamed all she had to need to scream on her pillow while Kyra was out on running or training.

She already yapped about it non-stop with Leah, who was not much of a comforter, but still was a great listener nonetheless.

Y/n didn’t need Kyra to feel pity for her. She was, slowly but surely, becoming more independent. And maybe staying one week away from Kyra would do them some good, maybe Kyra would realise that Y/n was more capable than she thought she was.

Kyra still pretty much saw Y/n as a damsel in distress. 

Y/n was in distress but she was no damsel.

“Y/n, tell me one friend of yours that isn’t related to football?” Kyra challenged, raising an eyebrow.

“Ms. Petunia!” Y/n said matter-of-factly.

“...Your neighbour? I mean elderly neighbour?”

“Are you being ageist?”

“Maybe–a little?”

“She's a good friend! and she’ll keep me company while you’re away,” Y/n argued, taking Kyra’s hand away from her leg. “She always bakes me cookies–and we’ll watch telenovelas together! I'm going to have a great time with her.”

“And what about when she goes to the elderly church group? You’ll just be at home all day?”

“No Kyra, I’ll take my crutches and happily skip my way to Wales!” Y/n said eagerly, she could be petty when she wanted to.”

Kyra opened her mouth like she was about to argue again, but then she stopped herself. Y/n was looking at her with that stubborn, defiant glare—the one that meant she wasn’t just mad about this, she was mad about everything. The injury, the recovery, the way everyone was treating her like she was breakable.

Kyra sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “Well… guess we’re good then.” She took the remote from Y/n and turned the television again.

"Yes we are," Y/n snapped. The words tasted bitter. She knew they weren’t good. Kyra knew they weren’t good. But neither of them said anything.

A few seconds passed, thick with silence. Y/n clenched her jaw, grabbed her crutches, and stood up. Before she left, she grabbed the remote—petulantly, spitefully—and turned the TV off again.

“I don’t want to watch that movie anymore, it’s stupid,” she mumbles as she makes her way to the kitchen.

“It’s literally The Lorax, bro,” Kyra said from the living room. “It’s got a message!”

Y/n opened the cupboard and took out a bowl and some fruits. She was going to make a fruit salad. Fruit salads were good for regulating the nervous system, and right now all of her systems were very much nervous.

Y/n had just cut the apples, strawberries and mango, the only fruit left were two bananas. Then she began to chop them, more angrily than necessary.

“What did the banana do to you, grumpy?” Y/n felt Kyra’s presence on her back, her hands gently placed on her hips and Kyra rested her head on Y/n’s shoulder.

“I’m taking my anger out on them,” Y/n mumbled, continuing to chop. “My therapist said I need to learn to redirect my anger away from people or some shit like that.”

“Hmm,” Kyra said, planting a gentle kiss on her neck. “You’re doing a great job.”

“Shut up,” Y/n asked, still grumpy. “Did you finish the film?”

“Uhum, like I said, great movie.”

“And did you learn anything from it?”

“Yeah, not to cut trees down and not to make my hyper-independent girl feel like she’s a liability,” Kyra said softly. “I’m sorry baby. I’m sure you’ll have a blast while I’m gone.”

“Maybe even go to some crazy church bingo with Ms Petunia, yeah?” She continued, slightly teasing, putting her hands under Y/n’s shirt.

“You shouldn’t tease someone with a knife in their hand,” Y/n warned in a fake serious tone.

Kyra held her closer and watched as Y/n took the chopped bananas and mixed them with the rest of the fruits. 

Y/n took a spoonful of her fruit salad and offered it to Kyra, who wrinkled her nose and pushed the spoon away.

“Ew,” she said

Y/n rolled her eyes.

“You’re an athlete, you need vitamins! Y/n said. “Now I’m the one who’s worried, I don’t think you’ll eat well if I'm not there to make sure you get some real food.”

Kyra kissed her neck as Y/n enjoyed her fruit salad.

"Steph will look after me."

"Hm," Y/n scoffed, taking another bite of fruit. "We’ll see. If you come back looking like you’ve only eaten cereal for a week, I’ll never let you leave again."

..

PART 8 |

Notes: Please like, share and let me know what you think! Feedback is important and makes me want to write even more. :D

Notes//2: I always have so so much fun writing dialogues between Y/n and Leah like I got myself giggling in my room aloneee.

Masterlist

[alotofpockets]

Clingy | Vivianne Miedema x Man City!Reader

5k celebration prompt: "Do you really think she likes that you're so clingy?"

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.3k

-----

You had been at City for a few years now, and your teammates knew you well. They knew you loved the team, and hanging out together, but they also knew that you weren’t as affectionate as most of them were. 

Never did your teammates think anything of you not being affectionate with them. It wasn’t something everyone enjoyed, and they knew that. They were just happy to have you around.

However when Viv joined the team, all of a sudden they saw a shift in your affection. 

The first time they noticed something was when you were on the bus, sitting next to Viv. Her head leaning on your shoulder, after she had fallen asleep. Most of your teammates had seen the moment, but figured Viv had just nodded off, and you didn’t want to wake her.

But it wasn’t just that moment. It didn’t matter in what environment you were, Viv always found a way to be near you.

When walking towards the pitch for training, Viv would loop her arm through yours. You never shrugged her off, and your teammates noticed there how naturally you let it happen.

During drills at training, she would nudge your shoulder ever so often while waiting for the next drill. Sometimes it was to point something out, other times it was to joke around.

Even during games. When you and Viv would both sit on the bench, she made sure to sit next to you. When someone would try to squeeze in, she would subtly shift so she could keep her spot next to you.

When you were out with some of the girls, they noticed that Viv would place her hand on your arm or leg casually, like it was the most normal thing ever. It might be a normal thing for most people, but for you it wasn’t.

The girls had never seen you let anyone get so close to you, and they kept being amazed. They couldn’t wrap their head around the fact that you let Viv be so clingy, while usually you didn’t even like when people touched you in general. Were you just letting it happen because you didn’t want to make Viv feel bad? Or were you enjoying it as much as she was?

It was the first movie night since Viv joined, that someone decided to voice their thoughts. The movie started and to no one's surprise, Viv sat down next to you. It didn’t take long for her to get comfortable and cuddle into your side, her legs resting on yours. 

About halfway through the movie, you got a call. “Sorry, I have to take this.” You whispered into Viv’s ear. Gently pulling your body away from underneath hers. Some of your teammates shot you questioning looks. “It’s okay, just keep playing the movie. I’ll be right back.”

You moved into the hallway of Jill’s apartment, closing the door behind you to block the noise that was coming from the living room before you picked up the phone.

Viv looked after you, sad to have lost the comfort that you were giving her. Alanna noticed the longing looks she was sending to the door. “Viv, do you really think she likes that you're so clingy?" The question came out rougher than intended, but Alanna went with it anyway.

Her head turned to Alanna and the rest of the girls. “Yeah, why wouldn’t she?” Viv asked with her brow slightly furrowed. Surely if you didn’t like her doing so, you would have told her by now.

The movie was paused and all attention was on the conversation now. “Well, it’s just that I’ve never seen her be touchy with anyone. In fact I’ve seen her push people off or tell them off when they’re touching her for too long.” 

Some of the girls chuckled, and Lauren added, “It’s commonly known that she doesn’t like it when people touch her.” A statement that came with a few nods from the rest of the girls.

Before you could say anything, Jill jumped in. “Yeah, well you guys don’t know y/n outside of City. I grew up with those two, they’ve always been like this.” 

Kerstin build up Jill’s point more. “Literally. When I joined them at the national team, I for real thought they were dating.”

Viv’s cheeks turn red at Kerstin’s words, peaking the interest of the team even further than the conversation about if you liked the clinginess or not.

You returned to the living room and all eyes were on you. It felt a little uneasy, so you quickly sat down next to Viv again. But instead of her leaning into your side like she usually did, she kept sitting up straight. It looked like she was actively making sure that she wasn’t touching you.

The whole situation felt awkward. The movie paused, and all eyes on you. Well, all eyes except Viv’s, who seemed to be ignoring you at all costs. “Can someone please tell me what’s going on?”

Jill exchanged a quick look with Alanna before speaking up, deciding it was best if she took the lead in answering. “We were just talking about how close you and Viv are. Nothing bad!” 

Your eyes narrowed at the addition of the ‘nothing bad’. No one ever added that when that was the case. 

"Right," Lauren added, trying to lighten the mood but failing miserably. "We were just saying it’s surprising—since you’re not usually, you know, touchy with anyone."

You look between them, a frown forming on your face. “Okay, and?” You didn’t like when people analysed you in the first place, but why did they have to bring Viv into it?

“Well,” Alanna spoke up after the rest of the team seemed to hesitate. “we were wondering if you’re actually okay with it. You don’t really let people touch you ever. But Jill said you two have been this way for ages, and that’s kind of where the conversation ended.”

Viv’s posture and refusal to meet your eye, suddenly made sense. They had said something to make her doubt herself, or even worse make her doubt you and your actions. 

“Seriously?” You snap at them, feeling the anger boil inside your chest. “Don’t you have something better to do than analyse who I let into my personal space?”

The team looked taken back, not expecting your anger. You realised it had come out sharper than intended, so after taking a deep breath, you softened your tone. “Look, I know I’m not the most affectionate person, but it’s Viv. I don’t mind Viv being clingy. And if you think for a second that I would let anyone do anything that I didn’t want, you don’t know me at all.”

The team knew very well that you knew you would stand your ground and not let anyone walk over you, so they should’ve realised that you would’ve also not let Viv do something you didn’t like. 

Finally Viv looked up at you, her fingers still fidgeting with the sleeves of her hoodie. “You really don’t mind?”

You shake your head and reach for her hand. “No, not at all. I like it even.” With a gentle tug at her hand, you pull her back into your side. 

The rest of the girls kept watching you, as you pulled Viv closer and wrapped your arm around her. “Can we please move on and continue watching this movie?” 

Viv lightly chuckled at the girls mumbling their sorry’s as they turned back to the TV. You squeeze her a little tighter. “Don’t let them get to your head. If you ever question something, please just come to me.” She nodded her head, and got comfortable again. 

-----

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[woso-dreamzzz]

Foster II

Meadema x Teen!Reader

Summary: Your first visitation

Beth had never really thought about what your mother looks like.

She had never really considered it.

Like you, she supposed. Maybe an older version of your face. Maybe a few differences in your eyes or your cheekbones. Maybe your hair is a lighter shade. Maybe it's a few shades darker.

Either way, Beth had never really considered it but the woman that walked into the building wasn't what she expected.

Viv threads their fingers together, also put on edge by the jittery woman in front of them.

"Y/n," She says," Sweetheart. Come here."

She opens her arms for you but you don't go into them, shuffling your feet next to your social worker.

When Beth and Viv had told you that your Mum had gotten visitation, you hadn't seemed surprised. You hadn't seemed happy either.

You were just resigned.

You'd been through this before.

The only difference was this time your dad was in prison and a judge had terminated his rights to you.

"Why don't we head to the meeting room?" Your social worker asks," Get settled and you two can catch up?"

"Sounds good!"

You linger behind as your social worker leads the charge into one of the meeting rooms.

You catch Beth's sleeve, tugging lightly.

You're quiet most of the time. You linger around the house in silence if no one talks to you, needing to be reminded of simple things like being allowed to sit down and being allowed to get water without asking.

"Stay," You say, voice barely above a whisper," Stay, please."

It's meant to be an hour-long visitation, once a week. If your mother's rehab and parenting classes go well it gets upped to twice a week. An hour is a long time, enough time to go off and do some errands.

In fact your social worker had even recommended that.

But here you were, asking them to stay.

You don't make eye contact. You look uncomfortable even asking for it.

"We'll stay," Viv says," We're not going anywhere."

An hour never goes by so slowly.

It's strange, Beth thinks.

An hour in a game can pass in the blink of an eye but, here, with nothing but the ticking of the clock, it goes incredibly slow.

Viv is a steady presence though, holding Beth's hand in her own as they wait for you.

"We left Myle's stuff at training yesterday," She says," We'll have to swing by and grab it."

"We're nearby. We can grab them after y/n's done."

The ticking of the clock is the only thing that distracts Beth as she waits. She can't even bring herself to scroll mindlessly on her phone as she waits.

Her leg bounces as she waits and Viv tightens her grip until you're finally in front of them again.

Your face is blank. Your shoulders are slumped. You stare straight through them rather than at them.

Beth reaches for your hand, telegraphing every movement to give you a chance to pull away.

You don't.

You let her take your hand.

"Are you-?"

You don't even let her finish, something that's so uncharacteristic of you.

"Can we go home?"

Viv stands. "Soon," She promises," We're just going to swing past practice and grab Myle's stuff then we'll go straight home. We'll even get something at the drive through. How does a milkshake sound?"

You give her a weak smile, nothing more than a slight upturn of your lips.

"Sounds good."

You're silent in the car, head pressed against the window and eyes staring blankly out as the scenery whizzes past you.

"Are you okay with staying here?" Beth asks as you pull up," Or should one of us stay?"

"One of you stay."

She's heard you speak more today than she did last week but this is hardly the win it would be on any other day.

"I'll stay," Viv says from the driving seat," I'll stay with you."

You don't remember Beth getting out of the car. You don't remember Viv getting in the back with you. You don't remember when you started crying and when you curled against Viv's body.

There's a knock at the window and you jolt.

"Now's not a good time, Katie," Viv says, tucking your head into her neck," It's not a good time for any of you."

There's a crowd around the car, most of the team much too nosy for their own good and Viv just pulls you even closer.

Katie, who seems to have been nominated as spokesperson, has the decency to look a little ashamed. "Beth said the kid is feeling a little bit raw today. We got some of the cakes from the dining hall."

Kyra, uncharacteristically silent, holds out one of the muffins.

There's a huge chunk that's been taken out of it.

"Oh! That one's mine! Sorry!" She takes the other one out of her pocket.

Viv gently nudges you. "Would you like to take it? You don't have to if you don't want."

Your hand reaches out the open window carefully but the moment your hand is wrapped around the muffin, you snatch it back to your body.

"Thank you."

Your words are barely audible but it still garners some smiles from the team.

"Hey." You think it's Leah that's talking to you now. You don't really know the name of the team, still stuck on your discovery a few weeks ago that Beth and Viv were professional footballers. "Next time you're here, we'll you down to the dining hall ourselves, yeah? There's this pudding cup that's amazing."

You still don't make eye contact. "I'd like that."

Viv grins just as Beth comes back, lightly nudging you and you look at her.

"What do you want to order for dinner? Beth's paying."

[meazalykov]

never a footballer

vivianne miedema x reader

summary: you told yourself that you would never date a footballer

you vowed to never date a footballer.

the memory of elisa always lingers when someone brings up relationships in football. back when you played for wolfsburg, you thought you had it all—a solid career, a supportive team, and a relationship with someone who understood your life. 

the reality of being with elisa had been far from perfect. the constant arguments, the exhausting long-distance flights to paris just to spend a day together, only to fight over something trivial. you’d promised yourself after that breakup that you would never mix your personal life with the professional one again. 

footballers were off-limits.  

you were doing just fine sticking to that promise.  

that is, until vivianne came to manchester city.  

she arrived during the transfer window, making the switch from arsenal, and you knew her from the pitch—vivianne miedema, one of the best forwards in the world. you’d marked her countless times when you faced arsenal.

her skill, her strength, her composure—everything about her had been a challenge to contain. but off the pitch, you’d never paid her much attention. now, here she was, training alongside you.  

vivianne had an undeniable presence, one that made you notice her even when you didn’t want to. four inches taller than you, with striking features and an aura that made it hard to look away. you hated how easily your eyes would drift to her during training sessions, especially when she had her hair pulled back, focused, intense. it was distracting, and you didn’t need distractions.  

one day, during training, you crouched down to tie your laces, stealing a glance at vivianne across the pitch. she was standing near the goal, her long legs stretching as she practiced shots. you didn’t realize you’d been biting your lip until jill crouched beside you, smirking.  

“what is that?” she whispered, nudging your arm.  

“what iss what?” you replied quickly, fumbling with the knot in your laces.  

jill gave you a knowing look. “don’t play dumb. i saw you looking at viv. with the lip bite, no less.”  

“you’re imagining things,” you muttered, standing up and dusting your hands off.  

“sure, i am,” jill teased, following you as you jogged back into position. 

“just know, i’m onto you.”  

you ignored her, brushing off the comment as nothing. deep down, you hated that jill had caught you in a moment of weakness. because that’s all it was, you told yourself—a fleeting moment of attraction. nothing more.  

a week later, mary cornered you in the locker room.  

“so, how’d the date with penelope go?” she asked, sitting down beside you on the bench.  

penelope, a manchester lawyer who’s friends with mary and bunny. 

you sighed, pulling your hoodie over your head. 

“it was okay, but its clear that there won’t be a second one. she’s nice, mary, but it’s just not there.”  

mary frowned. 

“not even a second date?”  

“no,” you said firmly, shaking your head. 

“nothing happened, and nothing will.”  

as you spoke, you noticed vivianne nearby, tying her boots. her expression was unreadable, but there was something in her eyes as she glanced in your direction. 

you couldn’t tell if she was amused or curious. either way, it made you nervous.  

then came the game against chelsea—a match that could put manchester city at the top of the league table. it was a massive game where your efforts could push manchester to the top. 

four minutes in, you found yourself with the ball near the halfway line. the chelsea defense was pressing high, and you saw the goalkeeper off her line. instinct took over, and you struck the ball with everything you had. it soared through the air, arching perfectly before dipping into the back of the net.  

the stadium erupted, and for a moment, you couldn’t believe it. you threw your hands up in disbelief, running toward the sideline. before you could process what was happening, vivianne was there, wrapping her arms around you from behind.  

“that was fucking insane!” she said, her voice close to your ear.  

your breath hitched as you felt her hands on your waist, her grip firm but gentle. the rest of the team swarmed around you, pulling you into a celebratory huddle, but all you could think about was the way vivianne’s touch lingered just a second longer than necessary.  

despite the early goal, the game didn’t go as planned. chelsea fought back hard, scoring three unanswered goals by the final whistle. the loss stung, especially with how much was on the line. 

back in the locker room, the mood was somber. you sat on the bench, your head in your hands, replaying every mistake in your mind.  

“you okay?” a familiar voice asked.  

you looked up to see vivianne standing in front of you, her expression soft.  

“no, not really,” you admitted with a weak laugh, trying to mask your frustration.  

vivianne sat down beside you, her knee brushing against yours. 

“you played well. that goal was something I couldn't even have scored. it’s not your fault we lost.”  

you shook your head, staring at the floor. 

“it doesn’t matter. we needed to win, and we didn’t. i feel like i let everyone down.”  

vivianne tilted her head, studying you. 

“you know, it’s okay to feel like that. but you’re not responsible for the whole team.” 

her words were kind, but it was the way she said them—calm, confident, like she truly understood—that made your chest tighten. you looked at her, and for the first time, you noticed how her eyes softened when she smiled.  

“thanks,” you said quietly, feeling a blush creep up your neck.  

she leaned back, resting her hands on the bench. 

“if it helps, i think you’re one of the best defenders i’ve played with. and that’s coming from someone who’s played against a lot of good ones.”  

you laughed softly, the compliment catching you off guard. 

“you don’t have to say that.”  

“i’m not just saying it,” vivianne replied, her tone sincere. “i mean it.”  

the conversation felt easy, natural, like you’d known her for longer than just a few months. but as much as you enjoyed talking to her, there was a part of you that couldn’t ignore the warning signs. the promise you’d made to yourself echoed in the back of your mind—never date a footballer.  

and yet, as vivianne stood up and gave you one last reassuring smile before leaving the locker room, you couldn’t help but question that thought. 

however, you weren’t expecting the change in routine eiher. 

training had always been predictable—tough drills, friendly banter, and the same partnerships. bunny was your go-to partner for most exercises, a pairing that worked well because of your chemistry on and off the pitch. 

so, when vivianne approached bunny during warm-ups and asked if they could switch, you were caught off guard.  

bunny raised an eyebrow, looking between you and vivianne. “you want to pair with her?” she asked, her tone more amused than surprised.  

vivianne nodded, her expression calm but determined. “if you don’t mind.”  

bunny glanced your way, grinning. 

“nah, it’s fine. jill and i will dominate anyway.”  

you blinked, unsure what to say as vivianne jogged over to you. 

“guess we’re partners today,” she said casually, as if this was normal.  

“uh, yeah,” you managed, adjusting your socks to cover the flush creeping up your neck.  

vivianne’s presence beside you felt different—focused yet playful, with a subtle tension you couldn’t quite place. during the 2v2 drills, her skill and vision were undeniable. she found you with perfectly timed passes, and you worked seamlessly to outplay the other pairs. 

by the end of the session, you’d won the mini-tournament, earning a round of applause from the team.  

as you walked toward the locker room, still buzzing from the morning’s success, vivianne jogged up beside you.  

“you were amazing,” she said, her voice light but genuine.  

“you’re not so bad yourself,” you replied, smirking.  

she laughed, the sound warm and melodic. “listen, there’s this italian place down the street. want to grab lunch?”  

you hesitated, assuming it was a team outing. 

“sure, sounds good. is everyone going?”  

vivianne shook her head. “just us.”  

the simplicity of her words caught you off guard. you blinked, trying to hide your surprise. 

“oh. okay, yeah, let me grab my stuff.”  

twenty minutes later, you found yourself sitting across from vivianne in a cozy italian restaurant, the scent of garlic and fresh herbs filling the air. the setting was intimate, far more personal than you’d anticipated.  

vivianne was relaxed, her elbows resting on the table as she scanned the menu. 

“they do a great spaghetti carbonara here,” she said, glancing up at you.  

you nodded, suddenly hyper-aware of how shy you felt under her gaze. 

“i’ll try that, then.”  

the conversation started easy—training highlights, upcoming matches, favorite foods. vivianne had a natural charm that made you forget your nerves, her smile disarming and her laugh infectious.  

after a while, the dynamic shifted. vivianne leaned back in her chair, her tone turning playful. 

“so, bunny mentioned you went on a date recently. with a lawyer, right?”  

you blinked, startled by the sudden turn. 

“yeah, but it didn’t work out.”  

vivianne tilted her head, her lips curving into a teasing smile. 

“so, no lawyer girlfriend waiting in the wings?”  

you laughed, shaking your head. 

“nope. no girlfriend, no nothing. it’s been a few years since my last relationship.”  

vivianne’s expression softened, her curiosity genuine. “what happened, if you don’t mind me asking?”  

you hesitated, then sighed. 

“i was with elisa, elisa from psg. we were long-distance for most of it since i was still at wolfsburg, and it just… didn’t work. we argued a lot, and balancing our careers made everything harder.”  

vivianne nodded slowly, her gaze steady. 

“i get that. things with beth ended not long before i found out i was leaving arsenal. it wasn’t easy.”  

you reached across the table, squeezing her hand instinctively. 

“i’m sorry. breakups suck.”  

vivianne smiled faintly, her thumb brushing against your fingers. 

“they do. but sometimes they make room for better things.”  

your heart skipped at the subtle implication in her words, and you pulled your hand back, suddenly flustered.  

things progressed slowly after that lunch, though not without hesitation on your part. vivianne’s flirtations became more apparent—small compliments during training, lingering smiles, a touch on your lower back that lasted a second too long. 

part of you enjoyed the attention, but another part was terrified. you’d promised yourself never to date another footballer, and yet here you were, drawn to vivianne like a moth to a flame.  

it reached a tipping point one evening when you found yourself overthinking everything. sitting on your couch, surrounded by the flowers vivianne had sent over the past few weeks—bright arrangements that made your apartment feel warmer—you decided to seek advice.  

jill and kerstin, vivianne’s dutch teammates and your friends, were the first people that came to mind. you texted them to meet for coffee the next morning, and they agreed without hesitation.  

“so,” jill said, leaning forward with a mischievous grin as you sat down. 

“what’s this about?”  

kerstin smirked, already sensing where the conversation was headed.  

you fidgeted with your cup, struggling to find the words. 

“it’s about viv.”  

jill’s eyes lit up. 

“i knew it! go on.”  

“i don’t know if i should… go through with it,” you admitted, staring at the steam rising from your coffee. 

“she’s amazing, but she’s a footballer. after what happened with elisa, i don’t want to make the same mistake.”  

kerstin leaned back, her expression thoughtful. 

“vivianne isn’t elisa. besides, you’re on the same football team as viv so there is no distance. she’s one of the most thoughtful people i’ve ever met.”  

jill nodded enthusiastically. 

“seriously, she worships the ground you walk on. she talks about you all the time when you’re not around.”  

you blinked, surprised. 

“she does? the same way you talk about jana?”  

“oh, shut up! but yeah.. constantly,” jill said, laughing before grinning softly. 

“and don’t even get me started on the flowers.”  

“wait, you know about that?” you flared your eyebrows. 

“yeah, viv told the whole team about it!”

kerstin smiled knowingly. 

“she’s smitten, y/n. if you’re even considering it, i think you should give her a chance.”  

their words stuck with you as you headed home. maybe they were right. maybe vivianne was different.  

that same evening, vivianne invited you to dinner, something casual at a small bistro she liked. you dressed simply but thoughtfully, your nerves buzzing as you arrived. vivianne was already there, standing near the entrance with her hands in her pockets.  

“hey,” she greeted, her smile lighting up the dimly lit street.  

“hey,” you replied, feeling the familiar warmth in her presence.  

dinner was perfect—easy conversation, laughter, and a growing sense of closeness that made your chest ache in the best way. as the evening wound down, vivianne leaned forward, her expression more serious than before.  

“can i ask you something?” she began, her voice soft.  

you nodded, your heart pounding. the question was inevitable at this stage. 

“would you… want to be my girlfriend?” she asked, her gaze steady but nervous.  

you froze for a moment, the question hanging in the air. then, as a smile spread across your face, you leaned in, closing the distance between you.  

your lips met hers softly, the kiss tentative at first but quickly deepening as you felt her hand cup your cheek. when you pulled back, your cheeks were flushed, but you couldn’t stop smiling.  

“yes,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.  

vivianne’s grin was brighter than you’d ever seen, and she leaned in to kiss you again. something that felt undeniably right for someone who thought this would never happen again.  

masterlist

[studioeisa]

like real people do ☢️ seungcheol x reader.

little is known about the apocalypse of 2017. a century later, archivists are now unveiling the relics they found from those who lived through that time.

★ seungcheol x reader.  ★ word count: 2.1k ★ genre: alternate universe: apocalypse, alternate universe: soulmates (the only way for your scars to disappear is when your soulmate kisses them goodbye), angst, romance. ★ warnings: major character death. depictions of death/violence, injuries/scars. established relationship; suggestive scenes but no real smut. set in a fictional apocalyptic world. doubling down on the angst warning; i cannot say with any certainty that this is a happy ending. ★ footnotes: this is part of my follower milestone event. viv gave me an inch (a request for angsty seungcheol) and, in turn, i am giving her a mile (a whole thing instead of just a ficlet). mahal kita, @heartepub! this will be the last hozier brainrot i offer you— for now. + much thanks to @gyubakeries and @tusswrites for beta reading! love you both to the end of the world. ❤️‍🩹

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺ like real people do by hozier. apocalypse by cigarettes after sex. i know the end by phoebe bridgers. fourth of july by sufjan stevens. interlude: i’m not angry anymore by paramore. atlantis by seafret. end of beginning by djo. nobody’s soldier by hozier.

When the fish started dying, you did not think: This is how the world will end.

Why would you? The decimation of marine mammals and seabirds didn’t make the news. The misguided scientific breakthrough that triggered everything was kept under wraps.

It isn’t until much later, until the damage is irreparable and the Rapture is imminent, that you will realize it. 

The world as you know it is ending— but at least you have Seungcheol.

There’s some cruelty in the timing of it all. The two of you had just moved in with each other, coasting on the honeymoon phase of a long-term couple with a new thing to share. The paint on your apartment’s walls had yet to dry when the government declared a state of national emergency.

Dozens of other countries followed suit not long after, all blaming one thing or the other. Food crises. Social unrest. Cultural collapse. 

“This is crazy,” Seungcheol grumbles. 

The television is playing clips of a hurricane tearing through the Philippines. Extreme weather conditions, the reporters are saying. Due to the rise of CO₂ levels. 

You and Seungcheol are sprawled out on the floor, watching it unfold. The furniture store meant to deliver your couch has delayed shipment until further notice. 

Seungcheol has always been the sulky type, though the expression on his face nowadays has been less of his trademark pout and more of a serious frown. You can feel his growing agitation in the stiff way he holds you, in the set of his eyebrows. 

“It’s crazy,” you agree quietly, resting your hand on his knee in a bid to calm him a bit. “But it’ll pass.” 

Your touch seems to give some sort of reprieve. He rolls his shoulders. He unclenches his jaw. 

“It’ll pass,” he echoes, reaching out to intertwine your fingers. 

Neither of you knew just how wrong you could be. 

April 8, 2017 

Weird times. Cheol knows just how anxious I get when I’m cooped up, so he encouraged me to pick up journaling. I’m not sure how much this will help, but it’s worth a try. 

It’s been a month since everything has essentially gone on ‘lockdown’. The news says that all of this started because researchers wanted to regulate harmful algae. Their genetically engineered virus ended up infecting all algae, and now the majority of phytoplankton are just... dead. 

I don’t know what to write about. Terrible oxygen levels? Seafood costing a fortune? This ‘work from home’ system everyone is trying to figure out? 

I guess I should just write about the good stuff. That way, when I look back on these entries, I can remember something good.

Today, Cheol tried to fix a leaking faucet himself instead of calling for a plumber. We flooded the kitchen floor, and ended up wet from head to toe.

I cooked pasta, called mom and dad on Skype, and watched the latest episode of Santa Clarita Diet. 

Once everything opens up again, Cheol and I have to visit my parents. (And ‘get better screwdrivers’, he claims.) 

When Seungcheol first kissed you, you did not think: This man is my soulmate. 

It had been a clumsy, shy thing, traded way back when the two of you were high schoolers still stealing away from your eagle-eyed parents. Seungcheol liked to wax poetics about how it was perfect even though you know that first kiss was more a clash of teeth than anything. 

You don’t discover the truth of everything until a couple of years into dating. Seungcheol had gotten into playing basketball, and, one evening, you absentmindedly pressed your lips to a scar he had at the bend of his elbow. 

The mark smoothed out instantly. 

Seungcheol had giggled at the development before spending the rest of the night kissing every inch of your skin that he could reach— injured or not. You still think it’s one of your best memories as a couple. 

Kisses that healed scars. You hadn’t believed in the stories yourself until it had happened to you, until you realized how fortunate you were that your soulmate wasn’t halfway across the world or something. No, you had your soulmate, and he was more than willing to kiss away all your wounds. 

You had counted yourself as lucky. You still think you are, even now, as Seungcheol strokes your hair and holds you to his chest in the pitch black darkness of your apartment. 

His voice is quiet and small when he speaks up. “I’m sorry.” 

“What for?” you mutter back. 

“I’m sure this isn’t what you imagined,” he says. “For us moving in together and everything.” 

An amused snort escapes you. Of course that would be your boyfriend’s concern. There’s the rotational power outages and the merciless prices of goods due to inflation, but Seungcheol is worried about your expectations not being met. 

You shift in his hold. The days have been getting warmer and warmer, and the evenings are no exception. Seungcheol has taken to sleeping shirtless. You’re a couple of celsius away from doing the same. 

“It’s not your fault that we decided to move in together for the end times,” you say into the skin of his bare chest. 

He gives the small of your back a light thwack. “What have I said about the apocalypse jokes?” he chides lightly. 

You roll your eyes. He shouldn’t see it in the darkness, but he knows you all too well. “And don’t roll your eyes at me!”

His reprimand draws a short laugh from you. Even that feels like a monumental effort, like it's a waste of good air. 

Seungcheol doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about the two of you waking up in pools of your own sweat, doesn’t care that there are whole government newscasts on how to preserve oxygen in enclosed spaces. 

He holds you like a lifeline and kisses you until you’re breathless. 

“Cheol,” you whine against his mouth, the protest already at the tip of your tongue. The end is near; sex should be the last thing on your mind. 

But then Seungcheol’s fingers toy with the hem of your shirt, and he sounds so, so sweet when he mumbles, “Yes, soulmate?” 

That’s always gotten to you. 

“Unfair,” you groan as you work on shucking off your own clothes. “You’re so unfair.” 

In between giggles, he kisses every part of you. Again, and again, and again. 

June 15, 2017 

Cheol and I are on the run. 

He keeps telling me not to call it that because it supposedly makes us sound like criminals. I think it’s just funny, and God knows I need something to find humor in. 

As badly as I want to say “we have gone through worse before,” that would be a lie. We’re out of our apartment and trying to make our way to some place where there’s better air quality. In the meantime, we’re living out of his car. It’s so funny to me that I’ve started laughing until I’m crying. 

Anyway, the good stuff: Today’s sunset painted the sky purple. We snagged some still-cold cans of Sprite in an abandoned 7-Eleven. Cheol spotted a family of ducks crossing the road, pointed it out, and said “us, soon!”

Us, soon. It feels dangerous to hope, but that’s all I seem to do nowadays. That and being on the run. (Cheol made me strike out that last part, but whatever.) 

When Seungcheol finally admits to you that he is scared, you did not think: This means that things are much, much worse than I thought. 

Maybe because there were bigger concerns, like the car’s blinking fuel warning light and the scratches littering Seungcheol’s arms. Like the fool that he was, he had gone against your well-meaning advice to not look for help. 

He did not return unscathed. 

Your lips are pursed in a thin line as you rip open a Band-Aid. It’s one of the few that the two of you have left, and Seungcheol seems to remember the fact. He reaches out to stop you. 

“Hey, c’mon,” he urges, obviously trying to aim for levity. “You know there’s other ways we can fix me up, right?”

The frown that tugs at your lips shows that you’re still less-than-pleased at his little stunt. 

“Maybe if you didn’t head out in the first place,” you grumble. “We wouldn’t need any of this.” 

Seungcheol looks like he might push back, but seems to decide against it at the last minute. Instead, he wraps his fingers around your wrist and gives you a gentle tug. 

“It won’t happen again.” His tone is edged with remorse, enough to almost convince you. Almost. 

“No more playing hero?” you ask. 

A corner of his lip twitches upward. “No more playing hero,” he concedes before tugging at you again. 

You let him. You move closer into his space until you’re practically in his lap, until you’ve got a better view of the angry red cuts on his skin. 

Tentatively, you press chaste kisses to the injuries. Seungcheol’s hands find purchase at your waist and he tilts his head back, letting you work your magic. He’s quiet as your lips trace over each gash and wound, as you take away all the hurt with the ghost of a kiss. 

After a moment, he mumbles, “Is it bad that I want you right now?” 

“Seungcheol.” 

“Okay, okay.” A beat. “I want you all the time, actually.” 

“Shut up!”

The sound of his laughter fills the car. It’s enough to have you forgetting his murmured confession of fear, the vulnerability that he had tried so quickly to cover up with affection. For a moment, there is nothing else in the world except this, except you, except him. 

September 23, 2017

Is it weird to say that I’m starting to forget what it was like before all of this happened? Cheol is trying to assure me that it’s to be expected, that we’ll all be back to ‘normal’ soon, but I don’t even remember what normal is like anymore. 

I can’t forget. I don’t want to forget. And so here is a small list of things I took for granted: 

The first breeze that tells you winter is coming 

The kindness of people who don’t know you 

The smallest fish in the sea

Date nights with Cheol 

Clean water 

Breakfast

My parents

Cheol says there might be some biodomes ahead. Oxygen-regulated habitats. It sounds like something only the rich can afford. We don’t have a lot left between the two of us, and it’s getting harder to jump from building to building. 

But there’s something waiting for us on the other side— right? There has to be. 

May the best of my todays be the worst of my tomorrows. 

When the gunshot rang out, you did not think: This is it.

Seungcheol never gave you any reason to think that way. He had held your hand as you raided rundown grocery stores. He had positioned himself in front of you when there were stampedes. The world might have been ending, but he was with you.

He was with you even when the strangers you ran into started getting more aggressive. He was with you even when fights would break out over necessities like water and medicine. 

“People are dangerous when they're desperate,” he’d tell you softly— still his rational, kind self even when faced with the worst of mankind.

He was with you. He was kind. He was yours. 

Even when the bullet lodged itself right between his ribs. 

There is not much that you remember after that. 

The people dispersed. The cause of the fight— a can of chicken noodle soup, once your comfort food— lay forgotten on the floor.

The love of your life, staring unblinking at the sky.

When you sink to the ground, you’re moving purely on instinct. Your quivering lips press over his chest, over the red blossoming and staining his shirt. 

You kiss him. Again.

And again. 

And again. 

December 1, 2017

The kisses don’t work on bullet wounds. 

▸ Archivist’s note: The following entries are undated and some portions had been redacted/deemed untranscribable. We are led to believe that the author struggled to cope in the aftermath of their soulmate’s death. For posterity, we have still reprinted their final entries.

You’re so unfair. 

I still want you. 

Things I took for granted: ███████, you, ███████, youyouyou. 

What now? 

My love, it’s only a matter of ███████—

▸ Archivist’s note: Nothing follows.

This concludes our transcribed logs. The full collection can be viewed at the National Museum of Remembrance.

It is our deepest regret that the author is unnamed and that they cannot be properly credited. However, we know of two things with certainty. 

We know of a man named Seungcheol, and we know that he was loved. 

[wlwsoccerfics]

The Captain is whipped (LeahWilliamsonXWalshReader)

A/N: it's a bit short but sweet.

Warnings: none. Just some cuteness and fun. Might be a little suggestive in the end...

Summary: you and Leah are married and she Shows just how whipped she is.

You just finshed the first Team meeting at England Camp. Leah, your wife was the Captain of the lionesses. You were so proud of her. Now on your way to the lunch room. In the four years of you two being a couple, you haven't gotten her to be more adventurous when it came to her food choices but you wouldn't give up on this.

At Lunch you sat with Leah of course. But you also shared the table with Beth, Lucy, Keira, Millie B. & Mary.

"i have a serious question Y/n, since you are the cook at Home, are allowed to use any spices for Miss Williamson food? Since she is the Queen of plain food." Beth asked. You almost choked on a slice of Apple, laughing softly.

"answer that Babe and you gonna sleep in the Couch when we are back Home!" Leah stated.

"i plead the fifth!" You replied, hiding a smirk behind your hands, pretending to chew something.

"i hate all of you!" Leah said playfully. Everyone was laughing. But you pout on your puppy Dog eyes for Leah and she started melting right away.

"you don't hate me, right Baby?" You asked sweetly. Pretending to be sad. She took your hand in hers and then moved closer to you to kiss your cheek.

"No Baby, i don't hate you." She answered. Even though she knew you were joking. Leah couldn't stand the look you gave her.

"whipped." Lucy said softly.

"aren't you like that with Ona?" You challanged Lucy.

"busted, Bronze!" Millie B. replied. You chuckled softly.

"she got you there!" Leah answered.

"you both are whipped. Ona and Y/N got the puppy Dog eyes down." Mary stated. The Goalkeeper often texted with Ona so she knew all about the little adorable Things Lucy did for Ona. She also knew all about the adorable stuff Leah did for you. Like getting you flowers every Game day. Or buying your favorite Candy when you are on your period. She would even wake up in the middle of the night to go to the Gas station to get your favorite ice cream when you were sad.

"there is no denying it!" Beth said softly.

"okay guilty!" Leah stated.

"yeah guilty i guess!" Lucy answered with a soft sigh escaping her lips.

"aww, cute!" Keira stated. Keira was Not only Leahs best friend but also your sister.

"it is indeed cute!"you said. "I Love my wife very much. She is the best!" You told them.

"i Love you very much as well. In fact you are the one i Love the most!" Leah answered.

"okay that's too much, it makes me miss Viv even more." Beth replied and sighed softly.

"call her." You told Beth. You knew your best friend missed Beth as well. Yes ,Viv was your best friend.

"i will do that!" She said and got up, excusing herself from the group.

"sunshine, let's go too. I want some cuddles before practice in an hour." Leah let you know.

"cuddles it is!" You answered.

"y/n, is whipped too!" Your sister said.

"guilty!" You admitted.

"it's cute!" Millie B replied.

You walked to your shared Hotel room with Leah. Smiling from ear to ear. Your first England Camp as a married couple just hit different. You loved everything about it so far.

"Babe?" Leah asked. You looked at her.

"yes Love?" You stated. Smiling softly.

"do you think i am boring?" She wanted to know. You frowned softly.

"Le, my sweet love, you are not boring at all. Every day with you feels so exciting and you make me so happy. You are the best." You let her know.

"so just my food choices are a bit boring?" She asked.

"a little. But it's okay. Your food might be plain but you are Premium." You told her and pulled her in for a kiss. Then you went to your shared room to show her how much you Love her.