#I have not watched a single one of matches and hopefully I never will
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oplishin · 7 months ago
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I can’t BELIEVE Logan Paul is still US champion. What kind of iron clad energy drink deal happened here
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alexlwrites · 7 months ago
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𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞
✿𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Alpha! Hyung line x Omega! Reader
✿ 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: "And through some happenstance, casual and cruel, shaped by the hands of the Moon goddesses, you ended up face to face with what They considered your fated mates.
Of course, they didn’t know that - how could they recognize their goddess-given match if you had no scent? As long as you didn’t reach maturity, only you would feel this pull, this constant urge pooling at your lower abdomen when their scents filled your nose and sent your eyes rolling back.
You knew your place and it was not amongst royalty."
OR  
The one where you find your fated alphas, but they can't find you.
✿ 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔:  Romance, Humor, Fluff, Angst, ABO, Soulmate AUs.
✿ 𝑨/𝑵: Should I be writing another fanfic when I have not finished a single one of my works? No. Does my brain understand that? Also no.
Anyway enjoy, like and subscribe and ignore any mistakes as english is not my first language and i dont proof read anything in my life.
P.S: This is heavely inspired by the book Pack Darling, so shoutout to that duology give it a read, yall!
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: This is a 18+ work! Minors, please do not interact. Also, there will be mentions of violence and abuse.
(Fanfic masterlist)
(support me on my ko-fi if you enjoy my work <3)
°•. ✿ .•°
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐒𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬
You didn’t know how long you had been running, nor how far you’d gotten. The skies had darkened and then lightened again since the moment of your escape and you assumed you had a few more hours before your absence was noticed, but you didn’t have it in yourself to stop, steps only briefly faltering from exhaustion but still fueled by fear.
You had to keep going. No amount of distance was enough between you and what you had left behind.
Still, there was only so much your body could take in its malnourished state and after a while your legs slowed down on their own, feet too hurt to continue carrying your weight. Yet you stumbled forward through unknown woods, watching trees and shrubbery blurr past you as you dragged yourself towards what you hoped was west - towards the coast.
You had never left the walls that surrounded your family’s home, but had seen the maps that covered the walls of your father’s study enough to remember the outlines of the charted land and the sprawling expanse of the coastal city near the territory you lived - the closest and the only one you could get on foot, even if you were unsure what your next step would be once you got there.
Adamas - the capital of diamonds - laid hopefully ahead of you, filled to the brim with marine vessels and royal ships that you could maybe sneak in and let yourself be carried far away from the claws of your family, running until you found somewhere quiet and reclusive where you could spend your days alone and free from your own status and its implications.
But that dream seemed further and further away as your body shivered and withered, unable to continue your journey, faltering until you gave out and found yourself lying atop a pile of leaves on the cold forest floor.
You sighed, a tortured breath escaping your exhausted lungs. Maybe it was the best you’d get - not the solitary cottage you yearned for, but the swift death by the hands of nature. Still an escape, death. Still freedom from that was always expected of you, from the destiny that awaited.
You closed your eyes and waited, giving up on the weight of consciousness. Any moment now, you thought. It would all be over. As the edges of your mind started to become hazy, your tired lungs pulled one more labored breath and with it a scent that reached out to the deepest parts of your soul with a calming, friendly touch and released the tension from your body.
This is heaven, you thought, and allowed yourself to sleep.
***
There was an unconscious omega in his lands and King Namjoon was unsure on what to do.  
Omegas were rare within the wolf genes - they were the smallest of the packs, the caregivers and kindest diplomats, made to become nursing figures within each family dynamic and bring balance to the usually violent and short fused nature of alphas, despite their positions as providers and leaders. But omegas, gentle and fragile omegas, were far and few between and from a very young age Namjoon had been taught to treat them with the utmost care. 
With that being said, Namjoon was also taught to be wary of trespassers and this tiny, wounded omega was somehow within his borders. 
How did you get there, he wondered. There were no roads leading to the back of the castle where he usually strolled through in the early mornings, only thick woods that would be almost a day on foot before you got to any sort of path.
In the end, his instincts spoke louder, dynamics drilled into his brain and pulling him towards the tattered frame on the ground. With all the kindness he could muster from his large frame, he gathered your body in his arms, gently cradling your form.
As he walked, he let his eyes access you: small, disconcertingly thin, with hollow cheeks and dark circles marring your lovely soft features. You had no mating mark on your neck and no distinguishable scent - and that was what confused him the most.
When an omega reaches maturity, their scent would evolve into something unique that would eventually be used to attract a mate and potentially even identify a fated scent match - a partner made by the heavens, your perfect half.
But despite looking past the age of maturity, you smelled clean, neutral with just a hint of sweetness to classify you as an omega.
What on earth could have happened to you, he wondered, worriedly scanning your bruised body and jutting bones.
And what on earth would he do with you?
***
Sometimes Hoseok couldn’t understand his leader.
He watched as Namjoon paced up and down his office, heavy steps echoing around as he stomped in contemplation.
From the day they met, decades ago, when they were both babbling toddlers, Hoseok had accepted  the younger man as pack. Both sons of monarchs, born in allied families, they were thrown together in royal play pens as soon as they could hold the weight of their own heads.
Hoseok always considered it a privilege to watch his brother in arms grow into his  position - a natural born leader, a king. And Hoseok never once doubted his ability to rule fairly and successfully. 
But every so often he couldn’t help but question his friend’s common sense.
“Namjoon” he called to his still restless friend “You cannot possibly be considering throwing the omega in the dungeons?”
“She is technically trespassing” his friend argued stubbornly.
“She’s an omega!”
His own mother being a rare omega, some rules had been drilled very early into Hoseok’s young mind: omegas are to be treasured, his father had said, it is your job as an alpha to protect them should you be blessed enough to find one.
He hadn’t actually seen the omega. He had barely woken up when a maid ushered him to the king’s office where Namjoon had asked for his council while burning a hole through the carpet. 
“She could be dangerous. Some sort of trap, maybe?”
No threat could scare Hoseok more than the idea of his father finding out he had allowed some poor omega to be thrown into their underground cells and so he pleaded “Put her in one of the guest rooms and set my guards in the exits. When she wakes up, I’ll interrogate her myself.”
Namjoon considered the offer for a few seconds, examining the face of the captain of his guard and one of his closest friends. At last, he nodded and settled down in a nearby chair, calling a guard to give the order to move you from the infirmary to the guest aisle of his castle as soon as possible.
Unable to hold back his curiosity any longer, Hoseok asked his shaky leader after a few seconds of silence “What is she like?”
There was a gleam in Namjoon’s eyes Hoseok couldn’t explain and doubted his king could either “Small,” he let out quietly “black and blue all over, all skin and bones like she hadn’t seen a plate of food in days”. Hoseok closed his fists on an impulse and had to force his fingers to relax. Could he blame this sort of reaction on his instincts? 
He thought Namjoon wouldn’t say anything else, but after a few more seconds of silence his king continued “Pretty” he said softly at last, almost like an afterthought.
Hoseok couldn’t help himself, having never met another omega besides his own mother, and asked “And… The scent?”
“Clean.”
Hoseok blinked “She’s a child?”
“No. Full grown. Can’t be more than a couple years younger than us.”
That’s odd, Hoseok thought. From what he was taught, a healthy adult omega should have developed a signature scent - like his mom, with her easily recognizable roses and clear meadows.
Right as he was about to ask to see you, his fascination with the idea of a scentless omega getting the best of him, a maid rushed into the room to announce your awakening.
Both men rushed out of the room, elbowing each other to leave first through the door, impatient to get to where you laid, barely avoiding toppling the poor maid on their way.
The infirmary was a wide room with tall ceilings and large windows that let in the morning light from most angles. That same light illuminated your figure as they walked in, eyes drawn to the only bed occupied in the room.
Oh. You were in fact pretty, Hoseok concluded, watching you blink owlishly at the sunlight invading the space. You had a soft looking kind of beauty that was barely overshadowed by your debilitated state that caused a stirring of protection in both alphas. Who could’ve left you like that, he wondered, and how quickly could he wrap his hands around their necks and twist…
“You’re awake” Namjoon pointed out, catching your attention.
That seemed to be the wrong course of action. When your eyes landed on where the men stood by the door, they widened to the size of saucers. Something about their presence sent you scrambling out of your bed, falling onto the ground with a dull thud as you rushed to put some space between yourself and the imposing males.
“Hey, hey, hey” Hoseok raised his hands, palms facing forward to indicate his intention to cause no harm, your terrified expression keeping him far “Be careful, little lady.”
You didn’t say anything, just kept cowering further and further away until your back hit a wall and you winced in pain.
“Stand up and get back to your bed” Namjoon commanded roughly and Hoseok could see your fighting against the urge to submit to the alpha’s orders, causing him to elbow his friend “Please” he added “You are hurt and weak and shouldn’t be out of bed’ he continued in a much gentler tone. 
Slowly, you moved yourself back to the mattress, shuffling to hide under the blankets, bringing them over your nose and leaving only your panicked eyes visible.
The last thing Hoseok wanted at that moment was to interrogate you when you were so clearly distressed, body shaking under your burrow. But he had duties to uphold and your presence raised questions that just staring at your disarmingly cute face wouldn’t answer.
“What’s your name, little lady?” he asked.
You mumbled your name so quietly he almost didn’t catch it, the sound stifled by the fabric covering your lips. When he did hear it, he did not recognize it.
“How did you manage to get into the castle’s grounds?”
You gulped. “The castle?” you repeated in a whisper. 
“Do you know where you are?” Namjoon asked and you shook your head fearfully “Do you know who we are?”
Sinking deeper into the safety of your blankets, you shook your head once more.
“I’m Jung Hoseok, head of the royal guard” and just when Hoseok thought your eyes couldn’t get any wider, they did, panic seeping further into your gaze “And this is Kim Namjoon” the words had your face paling until devoid of any color, yet he continued “the King of Adamas.”
Both men watched your face for a reaction, seeing you gape in shock, eyes rolling back to your skull as you promptly passed out.
***
You woke up to a churning stomach and a pounding headache, both hunger symptoms that you were very familiar with. How many days had it been since you last ate? You couldn’t tell, the night sky outside the windows of the empty room signaling the end of another day. And at that moment, your starvation was the least of your problems. 
The king - the fucking king - was your mate. And so was the head of his guard. 
When you first opened your eyes to sunlit room, regaining consciousness after Gods knew how long, their scent hit you like a brick to the face, sending you flying off the bed on the brink of a panic attack.
This couldn’t be happening. Not now. You were so close!
You looked for their reaction, trying to gauge if they were feeling what you were - this life changing pull in your core, this prickling feeling underneath your skin, fingers twitching at your side to reach for your alphas.
But there was nothing, not a flick of recognition, only wariness and mild concern.
These were not your alphas - these were your king and his most trusted guard. And you were just an omega on the run, worth only the money you could be sold for.
You remembered the first offer your father had received once the neighboring towns heard about his siring of an omega. Up until then your father had never seen much value in your existence. Before you, he had only had alpha boys - three, to be exact - older, stronger and meaner than you, built for leadership roles and bringing his legacy to another level.
But you? What use did he have for small, needy, whimpering you? None, he had told you many times over. Your father had never been afraid to remind you of your place in the household: the burden.
Until you became the pot of gold.
You weren’t sure how, but someway or another the news of your existence reached the next town and then the next town over, and so forth until your father was reminded that even though he saw no value in housing an omega, the rest of the world did. 
5 million. That was the first offer he received, when you were only fourteen.
And for a moment you believed that could be your way out of your father’s cruel claws - get yourself a husband far away and live happily ever after, pampered and taken care of by some alpha knight.
But those daydreams died soon enough when you learned from the maids what happened to sold omegas.
Imprisoned. Trapped. Breeded. Discarded. Rinse. Repeat.
There was an audible crack in your heart, a rift in the fragile rivulet of hope you had for a future of better days. Since then, the only thing you could hope for was an escape. You daydreamed of far away lands and open fields with no civilization for miles, only an ivy covered cottage for you to hide away from the world.
Alas, that dream seemed further and further away as you got older. You knew your father was just waiting for you to present, hoping that whatever scent you developed would up the price with its enticement and your late blooming was a constant reason for his frustration. Your development was the only thing between you and your sale to the highest bidder.
And if you had any say in it, you would never present. In order to do so, your body needed to be healthy - and you just never were.
Starvation, overexhaustion and overworked muscles had been your saviors since you realized they could delay your maturity. So from the day you turned 16 - about the age omegas started presenting - you began restricting your meals to about one every two days. You ran around the property’s grounds until your feet screamed in agony and your knees gave out. Your sleep schedule was messy and insufficient and so your body remained fragile and unchanged.
And that worked up until your 22nd birthday when your father got tired of waiting.
And so you ran, climbing on the back of a supply carriage that you had visited one day and letting it carry you as far as it could. And then you sprinted, like you had been doing for years.
And through some happenstance, casual and cruel, shaped by the hands of the Moon goddesses, you ended up face to face with what They considered your fated mates.
Of course, they didn’t know that - how could they recognize their goddess-given match if you had no scent? As long as you didn’t reach maturity, only you would feel this pull, this constant urge pooling at your lower abdomen when their scents filled your nose and sent your eyes rolling back.
You knew your place and it was not amongst royalty. You were, as your father always pointed out, too small, too weak and too soft to carry on a legacy, a kingdom. 
You had to get out before your ticking bomb of a body turned against you and distanced you once more from your peaceful cottage dream.
You just needed to figure out how.
°•. ✿ .•°
𝐌𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! 𝐂𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝
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xhoneygirlxx · 1 year ago
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WANTED U
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Eddie Munson x Best Friend Reader
summary: when your date is ruined by your best friend, can you stay mad at him when he reveals a secret you've been dying to know?
warnings: fluff, slight angst, Eddie is deep in his feels, two idiots in love. Minors DNI 18+ ONLY! mentions of drinking, Eddie gets drunk. swearing. p in v, creampie (wrap it up kiddos), fingering, body worship and praise. Reader's race/ethnicity is not mentioned! she/her pronouns used. Both Eddie and Reader are in their twenties. Also not proofread, spelling errors and horrible writing!
*if I miss anything please let me know!
a/n: Hi honey bunnies! I just want to thank @ali-r3n for this really cute idea! I'm so sorry it took me forever to post and I'm sorry about the shitty writing! Smut is not my strong suit and I've been plagued with the horrible writers block, so I hope this is okay! I hope you like this and thank you for being so wonderful and patient <3
All you wanted to do was to go on one date. One singular date. For the first time since your high school prom, you were going out with someone who was interested in you. A tinder match that led to multiple conversations, that led to having drinks, to hopefully going back to his place for a well needed time in the sheets. 
That was the plan for the night. Then your phone started to blow up with phone calls and texts, an apparent SOS that couldn’t wait. So you had to cancel, mid-date, telling your date that there was a family emergency. You knew walking out of there that Jordan wouldn’t text you back or ever take you up on the second date offer. 
It wasn’t like you were heartbroken over it, however you were a little bummed. The whole reason you even got on the dating app was because you were trying to get over your best friend. Eddie Munson stole your heart at the age of fifteen and had yet to give it back. It was a sick cycle that you have been going through for nine years. 
You were the lovesick best friend, who just couldn’t take the hint, following him around like a lost dog. Eddie had you wrapped around his finger and you didn’t care. Canceling plans just because he wanted to see you, doing whatever he asked just because, and never dating with the hopes of him finally falling for you. 
Those dreams were fruitless however, because Eddie didn’t see you as anything more than a friend. All the pining and unrequited love was killing you, a slow painful death that would put medieval torture devices to shame. It’s not like you could blame the brown haired boy, it’s not like you can pick who you fall for, but that didn’t stop you from wishing it would happen. 
So therefore you took the giant leap and put yourself out there, trying to ease the ache of your heart. In the end you ended up in Eddie’s apartment, helping him in his drunken state, get to bed. The emergency that Jeff blew your phone up for, was this. A night out with the guys turned into Eddie getting belligerent and refusing to leave until you came and got him. 
The whole car ride there you were disappointed in yourself, the whole reason for your dumb date was to stop yourself from running to the rescue every time he called. You were annoyed and heavily frustrated with the outcome of your night. It almost felt like the universe was against you, whatever god above watching you and laughing every single time you failed to move on. 
As much as you wanted to hate the grown man sitting in front of you, you simply couldn’t. His whiskey colored eyes round and glossy, nose and cheeks rosy with the heat of alcohol coursing through him, and his hair messy from the cold night wind. He was so pretty and it was hard trying to stay mad at him, especially when he had a deep dimpled smile adorning his face. 
“Alright Eds, I need you to change out of your clothes.” You say sweetly, the pile of his pajama’s hanging in your hands. 
Following your instructions, he tries to lift his shirt over his head, only for it to get caught on his head. “Sweets, I need help.” He sounds like a helpless child trying to tie his shoes, and you have to stifle a laugh. 
Placing the change of clothes next to him on the bed, you swiftly pull the stuck fabric off of him. When his head is released, he shakes his hair out of his face so he can see you. A childlike wonder flits in his eyes as he looks at you, admiring the way you’re being so gentle. 
A small thank you is whispered, you hum in response as you pull the new shirt on him. His eyes close as you gently tug his arms through the hole, soaking up the amount of attention you give to him. It feels like you’re changing a newborn, so docile and content with the way you handle him. 
“Can you take your pants off yourself or do you need me to help?” Your voice breaks his sleepy demeanor, droopy eyes looking up at you. 
“You gonna buy me dinner first?” Wiggling his eyebrows, he playfully smirks at you. 
“Ha ha, very funny.” You deadpan, yet your heart beat picks up at his innuendo. 
Surprisingly, he’s able to take his bottoms off and replace them with the pair you picked out for him. Pulling the jewelry off his wrist and fingers, you place them hastily on his bedside table. His eyes follow your every move, like a curious kitty watching their owner. Pulling back the covers on his bed, you gently lay him down and prop his head up with pillows. 
“So you have your bottle of water right here,” You show him by picking it up off the table where it’s sat, “And the bottle of Tylenol is right next to it. Now if at any moment you feel like you have to throw up, the garbage can is right next to you on the floor. Okay?” 
Humming to you in understanding, he closes his eyes once more. When you think he’s about to pass out, you turn on your heel to grab clothes for yourself. Not getting far, his big hand wraps around your wrist gently, bringing your attention back to him. This time his expression isn’t as content or happy. No, his eyes are glassy with unshed tears and his bottom lip jets out in a pout. 
“Please don’t leave.” It’s a whispered plea, innocent and childlike. 
“I’m not leaving Eds, just grabbin’ some clothes to change into.” Even with your assuring smile, he’s still frowning at you. 
“Please just, don’t leave.” Tugging your arm slightly, he brings you closer to the bed. 
“Eddie, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” You’re now concerned with the state of your best friend and why he felt the need to beg you to stay. 
“Promise? What about Jacob?”
“Eddie, what are you talking about?” Although he closes his eyes again, you still press for answers. 
“I don’t wanna lose you t’some douche. You needa be with me, sweets cause I love you s’much. Don’t wanna lose you to him.” It’s all a slurred mess, his words mumbling together as they fall out of his mouth. 
“If you mean Jordan, no I’m not going to leave you for him” You giggle softly, “I left my date with him to come get you. Plus his stories about kayaking were starting to get boring.” You try to lighten the mood, but it only makes his lip wobble more. 
“I shoulda made a move, I wanted to b-but I-I was scared. Gareth told me I lost my chance with you and he-he was right.” A few stray tears fall down his cheek and you lift a hand to wipe them away. 
The same brown eyes you fell in love with, all those years ago, stare up at you. The heart that’s bleed for him for nine years is starting to heal, the words you so desperately wanted to hear are finally coming to light. 
With your own tears glistening in your eyes, you look down at him like you always do. With the biggest heart in your eyes and brightest smile on your face. “You should stop listening to Gareth, Eds. I think you still have a shot, but we’ll talk about this later. When you’re not drunk.” 
Bobbing his head the best he can, he squeezes your hand once before retracting it. With his eyes closed and steady breaths leave his parted lips, you get changed and turn off the lights. Maybe the universe wasn’t against you, maybe it was on your side the whole time and just had a funny way of showing it. 
__
The bright sun pouring through the window, wakes you up. The sight before you is one you’ve seen before. The side profile of your best friend’s face, wild hair sprawled over the pillow that lays beneath him. You take this moment in to study his features, the slope of his nose, the way his eyelashes kiss the tops of his cheeks, and how kissable his lips look. 
Not much later is he stirring, stretching his limbs out after his wild night out. Cracking one of his eyes open, he winces slightly before running his hands down his face. Blinking once or twice, he finally lets himself wake up, staring straight at the ceiling. You wonder if he remembers what he said or if you should bring it up. Instead you choose to play it cool, or at least try to. 
“Good morning drunky! How’d you sleep?” Reaching a finger out, you poke his side.
“Drunky,” he snorts,” I actually slept well, thanks to my wonderful nurse.” He takes a peak over at you, a smug smile already pushing his cheeks up high. 
You try to ignore the butterflies in your tummy when you hear his voice, thick and husky with sleep. The giddy feeling rushing through you is written all over your face, covered up by a bad attempt of biting back a smile. 
“Well, I’m glad you don’t feel so shitty.” You say, stretching your body to distract yourself from his burning gaze. 
“What time is it anyway?” His question comes out in a yawn, loud and exaggerated. Propping up on your elbow, you lean over him to get a look at your alarm clock. 
“A little past ten.” Eddie huffs, muttering something about it being far too early. “I know it’s too early for you but that just means we can go to Jerry’s and get waffles to soak up whatever's left in your system.” You coo at him mockingly, fake pouting as you look at him. 
“Ya know, I don’t enjoy your fake pity.” Eddie rolls his eyes at you, a frown pulling at the corner of his lips.
“Oh I’m sorry, Eds. Want some ketchup with those cries?” Eddie’s frown deepens like a bratty child, and you eat up every second of it. “Oh, I know! I’ll call a wambulance.” You throw your head back, laughing at your own joke. 
With your attention off of him, he sees the perfect opportunity to laugh. At lightning speed, he grips your hands, flipping you over on your back. With the weight of his thighs bracketing you and his hand gripping your wrists together, you’re defenseless. 
With a wild glint in his eyes, Eddie wastes no time in attacking you with a finger to your side. Relentlessly, Eddie tickles you to the point there are tears in your eyes from how hard you're laughing, and your pleas for him to stop are swallowed by the oxygen that’s being stolen from your lungs. 
“It’s not so funny when it’s your turn, huh?” Smirking down at you, his attack doesn’t relent. 
Thrashing around the best you can, you try everything to get him off but with the way his thighs squeeze your legs together makes it hard to do so. 
“Okay, Okay! I’m sorry, Eddie! Please!” The last word comes out as the softest moan, so soft that you would miss it if you weren’t paying attention. However, Eddie was and his fingers stopped digging into your sides immediately. 
The sound of your heavy breathing is the only thing to be heard. Eddie stares down at you, eyes unblinking and cheeks dusted pink. The usually brown eyes are now dark, the dark pupil over taking the iris. You stare right back at him, chest rising and falling dramatically and lips parted slightly letting the air from your lungs flow out easily. 
It feels like the world has stopped, time frozen still for eternity. The mid-morning light painting the two of you in a portrait, cementing the moment forever. Two heart beats synching up together, beating against the bones of your rib cages. 
“Fuck it.”
Eddie rushes in to smash his lips against yours. Years of waiting and wondering if this moment would ever happen, now finally laying to rest. The taste of him has been the missing part of your life this whole time and you wonder if he’s thinking the same thing. 
It’s sweet and slow, his tongue slipping inside your mouth softly. Morning breath be damned, the two of you make out for what seems like hours on end. Parting from each other for much needed air, a small giggle leaves your mouth. 
“What?” Eddie smiles, his face as dopey and gooey as you feel on the inside. 
“I just wanted this for so long.” You admit, making his smile pull wider. 
Leaning back down to you, he peppers kisses all over your face. The snickering that’s leaving your mouth is slowly turned into a whimper when his lips find their way to your neck. A gasp pulls from your chest the minute he finds that spot, eliciting him to suck on it. Hissing when it becomes too much, Eddie is quick to soothe the sting with his tongue. 
Pulling his face away from the crevice of your neck, his eyes find yours as his hand glides to find the hem of your shirt. Tugging on it and raising an eyebrow in question, you nod overenthusiastically. 
Ripping the oversized shirt over your face, he takes his time to memorize all the details of your skin. The heat of his stare becomes a bit too much, worry overtaking your brain causing you to bite down on your lip. 
“I just want you to know that I’ve waited since freshman year to see these bad boys.” Attention still drawn on your bare chest. 
“Well, do they live up to the hype?” You question, tone not as confident as you think. 
Eddie’s head whips up to you, mouth agape and you swear you can see drool pooling from his lips. “Sweets, you have no idea.” 
Diving in, he kisses the doughy flesh of your breasts, going back and forth between the two. Like a magnet to a fridge, his lips find the hardened bud and latches on. Switching between sucking and flicking his tongue, you squirm underneath him trying to find some sort of friction for the ache in between your legs. 
“You have no idea how many times I jerked off to the thoughts of this.” Eddie mutters as he moves his attention to the opposite nipple. 
Between his admission and the feeling of his warm mouth on your sensitive skin, you moan loudly. The feeling of more wetness pool in your panties alerts you, the overwhelming feeling of need buzzing through you. A small whine comes from you and it catches Eddie’s attention. 
Pulling away from your breast and peering up at you, he cocks his head to the side. “What’s wrong, baby? Want some cheese for that whine?” 
When his canine teeth shine through his devilish smirk, you whimper. You hate that he’s using your game from earlier against you, teasing you like he doesn’t know what you want. 
“What is it, sweets? Tell me what you want.” Fake pity drips from his question and it only eggs you on more. 
Eddie’s got you so worked up that you can’t even speak. Lifting your hips to show him what you need, you frown harder when he laughs at you. 
“Oh, princess,” He coos, running his thumb along your lower lip, “Be the good girl I know you are, and ask. Can you do that f’me?” Nodding your head, he encourages you with an assuring smile. 
“C-can you touch me, please?” Your voice sounds so small and you’d honestly cringe if it weren’t for the fact that you know you’re dripping out of the fabric of your panties onto his bed. 
Sighing heavily, Eddie gives your bottom lip a small tug with his thumb, letting the bottom row of your teeth show before it bounces back up into place. 
“I would tease you more but you asked so nicely.” Shuffling down your body, he loops his fingers through the sides and guides the thin material down your legs. 
Pushing his way through your thighs, Eddie runs the tip of his middle finger up the slit of your sex. His finger grazes lightly over your bundle of nerves, causing you to jolt from the feeling. 
“You’re really fucking wet.” Eddie says breathlessly as he parts your glistening lips apart with his fingertips. 
Not waiting for your response, Eddie circles his finger around your entrance before plunging it in slowly. The stretch from his finger makes you arch slightly, a muffled moan falling from your mouth. Using the pad of his thumb, he swirls your clit in alternating circles and figure eights. 
“More, Eds. Fuck, please!” You beg and who is Eddie to deny you. Pushing another finger inside, he curls them just right and starts going faster. 
“Fuck you’re so greedy, baby. Isn’t that right, you’re s’greedy for me, huh?” With his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat and his cheeks a pretty burgundy shade, he looks just as fucked out as you. 
Writhing underneath him, you babble nonsense as his fingers hit that spot you always struggle to. “Yes! M’so greedy - Shit!” 
“You gonna let me taste you? Gonna let me eat this pretty cunt?” You don’t even get a chance to answer, your body already doing it for you by clenching around his fingers. “Oh she likes that, huh? You like imagining me in between these pretty thighs, baby?” 
“Think ‘bout it all the time.” You moan, hips rocking against his hand as you try to chase your high. 
“Yeah, sweets? Think about me when you play with this pretty pussy?” 
That’s all it takes for you to come undone, gushing around his fingers with a muted scream. Your back arches off the bed, eyes rolled into the back of your head, as the feeling of your orgasm washes over you. 
Eddie helps you ride through it, continuing his motions until your tense muscles relax into a jelly like state. When you come back down from your high, you whimper at the loss of his fingers. Moving your eyes to him, you watch as he sticks his middle and forefinger in his mouth, moaning when the taste of you hits his taste buds. 
“Yeah, I’m definitely gonna have to eat you out.” Eddie grins at you and you roll your eyes playfully back at him. 
“That sounds absolutely wonderful, but” You begin to say and his face drops with the fear of rejection, “I’m going to need you to fuck me in the next thirty seconds.” You smirk and his jaw drops. 
After fifteen seconds of pure shock, Eddie shakes his head and tries to play it cool. 
“Yeah totally, let me just-” His sentence is cut off when he begins to struggle out of his own clothes. 
Once he’s stark naked and hovering over you, you laugh giddily up at him. Putting his forehead to you, he studies your eyes for any sort of regret or doubt. 
“Eds, I promise you I want this.” You reassure him, making sure to prove the point with a loving kiss.
With his confidence boosted, Eddie snakes his hand down to guide himself into you. When the tip breaches your entrance, the both of you gasp at the feeling.
Pushing in slowly, he brings his lips back to yours, swallowing your moans. Once he's all the way in, Eddie gives you a minute to adjust before he starts moving.
Nodding your head to let him know you're good, he pulls almost all the way out before ramming back into you, knocking the wind from your lungs.
"Fuuck, sweets. S'fuckin' tight." His voice trembles as he pounds into you.
"You're so big, I can feel you s'deep." You slur, drunk on the way his cock stretches you, hitting that sweet spot with every drag of his hips.
Eddie resituates himself, pushing your knees up to your chest, before bringing his chest back down to yours. This way you can feel him even deeper, which you didn't even think was possible.
You're on fire, belly burning bright with fire. Eddie's everywhere, he's all you can see, hear, smell, touch, think, he's invaded every single one of your senses and you can't get enough.
His eyebrows are furrowed, eyes closed with the pure bliss of being inside of you. It's so intimate yet so dirty and it's driving you insane.
Opening his eyes, he looks down at you like you've hung the stars that shine in the sky.
"I wanted this for so long, sweets. I wanted you, so Fuck-" He hangs his head, speeding up the movements of his hips. A roaring sob comes out of your mouth, the fire in you burning hotter with every drag of his thick cock.
"I'm so in love with you, sweets. Been yours since I was sixteen." Finally he confesses, letting the sacred secret out, only this time he's drunk off of you.
"I love you too! Fuck-I love you so fucking much."
"Tell me you're mine. Please, tell me." He begs and you comply, growing closer and closer to the edge.
"M'yours, been yours since I was fifteen." You confess and it feels like the weight of the world has lifted off of you.
With one last thrust, you come undone with a loud cry. Eddie doesn't let up his movements, now only focusing on his own release.
The way his hips stutter, you know that he won't last too much longer.
"I want you to cum in me, Eds. I wanna feel s'bad." You coax and that's all it takes for the metalhead to come with a stuttering grunt.
Lazily thrusting into you, he finally stops when he becomes overstimulated. The room is once again calm, the now afternoon sun blinds you as it seeps into the room. Heavy breathing and content hums fill the room, while the scent of sex lingers in the air.
Shyly removing himself from your chest, Eddie looks at you sheepishly. "Now what?"
If you didn't know Eddie you'd probably think he's being rude, but you know that he really is just overthinking everything that just happened. In his mind he thinks you're probably regretting everything, even though you told him you felt the same way.
Using your hand to pull some of the hair that sticks to his cheeks away, you smile affectionately at him.
"Well, I was thinking we could still go to Jerry's for breakfast," Eddie still looks at you like he's waiting for the ball to drop, "Then I thought you could keep your promise and eat your girlfriend out. That is, if you're not too full."
"Really?" He looks like a puppy who just heard its favorite word, excited with it's tail wagging back and forth.
Snickering up at him, you nod your head rapidly. Pulling out of you quickly, Eddie runs out of the room and you can hear the chaos of clattering from behind the door.
"Eddie, what are you doing?" More giggles fall from your lips as he races back in with a wet wash rag in his hand.
"Gotta clean you up before we go out to eat, baby. That way I can recreate our masterpiece later." He says wiggling his eyebrows.
Yeah this was the dork you fell in love with and who you were going to love for the rest of your life.
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Thank you all for reading! I'm sorry it's not the best!
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themuseofaphrodite · 29 days ago
Text
santa doesn’t know you like i do ✧ MV33
summary: it’s christmas eve, and your boyfriend, max verstappen — a notoriously bad gift giver — still has not told you what presents he had bought you. unbeknownst to you, however, he has found the wishlist you jokingly wrote to santa, and is planning a heartwarming surprise for his beloved.
trigger warnings: suggestive & mature content, swearing
word count: 1.1k
note: phrases and sentences in the dutch language are utilized throughout; keep a translator accessible
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⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹
Dear Santa, the letter began, I know that I’m almost twenty-three years old, so writing a letter to you is kind of foolish, but I still believe in the magic of Christmas, even if you aren’t real. This Christmas, I’m not really expecting much. My boyfriend, Max Verstappen, buys me anything I ask for, no matter what time of the year it is. He’s the best partner I could ask for. But the reason why I’m writing this letter is because he is clueless when he has to pick out gifts on his own, without my assistance.
So, before I go off on a tangent talking about how bad his solo gifts have been — do I have to mention the knitted red socks or lavender flavored gumballs? —, these are the things that I’m most looking forward to hopefully seeing under the Christmas tree.
A new set of lipsticks, because mine is really old and running out. I didn’t want to ask Max to buy me one, because I feel bad making him pay for anything.
The new rose gold spade necklace from Chanel. I saw it in a display case at the store in Monaco, and I was itching to purchase it. It’s really beautiful.
And last, but not least, a carton of Ferrero Rocher chocolates, the ones in the golden wrap and the crunchy nuts. My mouth is salivating just from thinking about it.
I know that there’s probably no point to writing this letter since you’re not exactly a living, breathing person, but a part of me hopes that your magic might help figure some of the kinks in Max’s terrible gift-giving skills out.
After writing the letter, you ended up throwing it away in the trash. It was such a waste of time, you thought. What in the world possessed you to do this? You were a busy woman, working for Red Bull as a PR manager. There was never a quiet moment. That was how you and Max had met: you were assigned to aid Liam Lawson in figuring out any media scandals, but as soon as Max had laid eyes on you, he’d immediately ordered Christian Horner to switch you to helping him out.
You were unsure of him, how aggressive and competitive he was. He wouldn’t shy away from direct confrontation, and that terrified you, since the idea of verbally arguing with someone made you nauseous. But so far, eight months into the relationship, you and Max had not had a single fight. He was loving, patient, and kind, willing to hear your side of the story every single time, even if he looked like he was about to flip a table. (This usually happened in PR meetings: you never argued outside of work.)
This would be your first Christmas together, and you were nervous. You knew what to get him: a new Red Bull team shirt and a pair of matching scarves that had colorful cats printed on it. It was purr-fect, and you knew that Max would — hopefully — love it.
Max entered the room, his steps hurried as he typed away on his phone and let out a big huff in frustration. You leaned against the wall, watching him as you sipped your chocolate-flavored boba tea. “Hey, is everything all good, mijn leeuw?” you asked, tacking on the Dutch pet name that fit your boyfriend perfectly. He was a lion, loud and courageous…especially in bed. Your cheeks heated at the thought.
Max looked up from his phone, his mouth a little open in confusion. “No, I’m OK, liefde. Just…fucking delivery people, not being on time.” Your eyebrow quirked, and Max shook his head. “And no, for the seventh time, I will not tell you what I’m getting you for Christmas. I know your birthday might’ve been bad, but I promise this time I’ll be good. Ik hou van je, schat.”
“Ik houd ook van jou,” you responded. “But I think I have every right to be concerned.”
Max rolled his eyes, walking over to where you were and placing one arm above your head, effectively locking you in place. “It will be fine. Don’t worry your pretty head about it, hm?” He grinned, kissing you on the forehead. “And if it does end up wrong, I’ll fuck you really well to make up for it.”
You blushed, averting your gaze away from him. “Max.”
“It’s true.” He released his hand from the wall, moving a dozen inches apart from your face. “Geloof me, lieverd.”
You bit your tongue and didn’t respond.
The next evening, also known as Christmas night, you and Max were preparing to open your presents. Your stomach was like a swarm of butterflies, you were so nervous to see what was in store for you under the tree. Max, however, was the epitome of ice-cold, his face betraying no hint as to what he may have purchased.
“Your turn first, engel.” Max motioned for you to select your first gift, and with shaky hands, you began to unpeel the small, square-shaped package. Finally unveiling it, you realized what it was: the rose gold spade Chanel necklace you’d been wanting for so long.
“Max! Oh my God, jij bent de beste!” you cried out, hugging him tightly and making him crack up in laughter. “How did you know?” you asked as you pulled away, but Max shrugged his shoulders.
“I just know things, liefde.” It was now Max’s turn to select his first gift, and he chose the nondescript package that held the colorful cat scarves in them. You suppressed a smile, watching as he carefully cut through the gift wrapping and sifted through the gift paper. His face broke out in a large smile, his blue eyes gleaming with happiness. “Cat scarves? This is adorable!”
“I hoped you would like it,” you said, beaming back at him. You shifted your position to pick up another gift; this time, it was heavy and rectangular. An inkling of suspicion wormed its way through you as you met Max’s gaze. “If this is what I think this is… Thank you.”
It was, in fact, a new set of lipsticks, just like you had written in your letter to Santa Claus. Somehow, Max must have found the letter and bought everything that you’d put on the list.
“You deserve it,” Max responded, pulling you close to him after you both had finished unwrapping the presents. “You’re the love of my life, Y/N. I owe you the world.”
You kissed his temple. “You’re the most incredible partner I could ever have.”
“Merry Christmas, hart van mij.”
Needless to say, you paid Max back for the thoughtful presents all night long. It was a Christmas you’d never forget, and you sent up a silent thanks to the magic of Santa Claus for having it all work out.
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹
234 notes · View notes
littlespoonevan · 2 months ago
Note
Princess Diaries 2 au!
not me already cheating askdjfhsa so i actually have the first chapter of this fic written but i never got any further than that so i never posted it. but!!! that means you are in luck bc i can offer you 3.5k almost immediately lmao
i had a lot of fun rereading this though so hopefully this might give me some motivation to keep going with it 🤞✨
-
“You want to do what?”
Buck’s parents regard him with identical disdainful looks. It’d almost be intimidating if he wasn’t on the receiving end of looks like that from both of them at least once a day.
“Evan, this doesn’t concern you,” his mother sighs.
“Like hell it doesn’t!” he exclaims, looking wildly between his parents and his sister. “Aren’t you forgetting what happened the last time you tried to stick Maddie in an arranged marriage-“
“Evan,” Maddie cuts in, voice gentle but firm enough for Buck to deflate. The smile she offers him is resigned. “It’s alright.”
“It’s not alright,” he protests weakly.
“Maddie understands the responsibilities she has as our daughter,” his father says, the, you don’t, heavily implied.
“Regardless, she’s far too old to be concerning herself with something as trivial as a love match,” his mother scoffs and Maddie’s mouth tightens into a thin line.
His parents love to bring up that Maddie is in her late thirties and still single. As if the whole reason for that isn’t because the last person they set up her up with tried to kill her – a trauma from which she’s obviously still recovering. Buck’s not about to let it happen again, not on his watch.
“Do you understand what a match like this could do for our family?” Margaret continues. Buck’s never understood his parents’ obsession with titles and social climbing. He would’ve figured still being a viscount and viscountess would be enough for anyone when, y’know, no one gives a shit about the monarchy nowadays.
“Besides, lord knows the Diazes would be indebted to us for even agreeing to it,” Philip adds with a derisive snort.
“I’ve heard Prince Edmundo is very pleasant,” Maddie offers, clearly trying to placate Buck and possibly trying to convince herself also. She’s putting on a brave face but Buck knows she’s nervous after Doug. It’s been years but Maddie still jumps at shadows.
Buck rolls his eyes. He may never have met him before but Buck has heard the scandal surrounding Prince Edmundo. He fell in love with a commoner and tried to marry her but his parents refused the match. Then, four years ago, a child was left at the palace gates with a letter addressed to Prince Edmundo. Apparently before they were forced apart Edmundo had gotten her pregnant and she was no longer in a position to take care of the child. Within hours, the whole world knew.
The Diazes had hired an entire new security team after that.
Buck hasn’t heard much since but he does know the potential marriage King Ramon and Queen Helena had been arranging for Edmundo completely fell through with the reveal of the child and he hasn’t publicly dated anyone since.
So now they’re here: a proposed match between Maddie and Edmundo so Edmundo can ascend the throne in the fall like he’s supposed to.
 “I still don’t like it,” Buck mutters.
“How about a compromise?” Maddie suggests then. “We have a trial period.
“I personally have no desire to get married to a stranger – I would, at least, like to know the man’s favourite food or his hobbies – so why don’t we see if Prince Edmundo would be agreeable to my coming to stay at the palace? Six months. A proper courtship. And, if anything untoward happens or I suspect something isn’t right, the union is ended.”
Their parents share a look, conversing only with their eyes and pinched mouths. Eventually their father looks back to them. “If the Diazes agree, then fine. But Maddie, you are running out of time. If Prince Edmundo doesn’t marry you then you can’t protest whoever else we choose. You’ve put it off long enough.”
Buck wants to protest but he knows this isn’t his fight. He’ll get his turn whenever they decide to turn his attention to him. He watches Maddie take a measured breath and is, once again, in awe of his sister’s ability to keep her composure. He can never do that. He always feels too much.
She looks their parents dead in the eye and nods. “I understand.”
“I’ll write to Helena then,” Margaret sighs.
~
“I don’t like it.”
Eddie just about refrains from rolling his eyes. He suspects the hand he has braced against his temple is just about the only thing preventing his parents from seeing the exasperation on his face.
“It sounds perfectly reasonable to me,” Eddie says and his mother clucks her tongue.
“Of course it does, Eddie. You’re just looking for a way to get out of this.”
“No, I’m not,” he exhales. He’s long since given up on trying to get out of this marriage. Any hope he had of marrying for love ended when his parents forced him to kick Shannon to the curb. Christopher arriving on his doorstep a few years ago left that hope buried six feet beneath the ground.
Truthfully, he doesn’t care anymore. His priority is Christopher now. He doesn’t need romantic love; all he needs is a political match with someone who will, at best, be decent to his son or, at worst, ignore Eddie and Christopher except for public appearances.  
He understands Maddie’s reticence though.
“Maddie’s last fiancé tried to murder her, Mother,” Eddie points out. “She doesn’t know me. Of course she’d be hesitant to marry immediately.”
“Philip and Margaret never mentioned this when we were making the arrangements though,” his father cuts in and Eddie does roll his eyes this time.
“They probably hadn’t told her yet,” he says. “Really, I don’t mind.” If anything, six months in which his parents fixate on someone else besides him sounds like a dream come true.
His parents whisper to each other but Eddie doesn’t bother trying to listen in. Instead he glances out the window to where Chimney is training in their new security hire, Ravi. The kid looks fresh out of high school and like he spooks way too easily but Eddie still wishes he was out there with them. Or in the playroom with Carla and Christopher.
Or anywhere that isn’t here.
“Fine,” Helena says, snapping him back into reality. “We’ll allow it. But you are to be on your best behaviour, Eddie. Do you understand how difficult it was for us to find you a match after your indiscretions-“
“You mean my son?”
His mother huffs. “You know we love Christopher. But people talk and you must admit your actions with that woman were completely reckless. Just like always.”
Eddie ducks his head, fists clenching in frustration. “Mom, it’s been nearly ten years since I last even saw Shannon. I was a kid. I was stupid. But I’m not going to apologise for it. Not when it gave me my son.”
“Don’t speak to your mother like that,” Ramon commands but then he folds, just slightly, and rubs at his forehead. “This is a good thing, Edmundo. It’s almost time for you to ascend the throne. It is your turn to honour this family; try to see that.”
Eddie doesn’t think there’s a single word in the English language he hates more than honour. Rolling his shoulders, he lowers his gaze and nods in acquiescence.
~
Eddie spends the rest of the day preparing for the Buckleys’ arrival with Hen, taking the chance to duck away to his room when she gets a phone call. She scowls at him and flaps her hand in a gesture that clearly indicates she doesn’t want him to go anywhere but he pretends not to understand and gets out of reach before she can grab him.
She’s confirmed Maddie’s brother, Evan, will be coming with her as well as Maddie’s personal security guard, Athena Grant. Eddie wasn’t aware the children of viscounts needed their own security detail but he guesses for Maddie it might be an extra precaution.
He’s heard the story, of course. How she and her previous husband had beaten the odds. Arranged marriages were common in their world but one that was also a love match was all but unheard of for people like them.
But Maddie and her fiancé, Doug, had seemed like the real thing. Their lavish wedding had been the talk of royal enthusiasts everywhere – the only people who actually pay attention to high society weddings. Then, a little over a year ago, Maddie was brutally attacked and almost killed.
Her husband had been the culprit.
And if Eddie’s sources are to be believed, Doug had been beating her the entire time they were together. Honestly, Eddie’s surprised she even agreed to the match. Though, if her parents are anything like his own, he doubts she had any say in the matter.
It makes him feel only the tiniest bit better about his own situation.
Losing Shannon is a pain that still aches deep inside of him but at least he’d loved her and she’d loved him back. And if nothing else, she’d given him Christopher, the most precious gift of Eddie’s life.
With him and Maddie…well. He doesn’t think they’ll fall in love but maybe they can be friends. After all, isn’t that what marriage is? Companionship? Eddie’s had love now; he knows what it felt like. Once is more than enough for him. He can be grateful for that – it’s more than most people get in his line of work.
A knock at his open door rouses him from his reverie and he looks up to find his abuela standing at the threshold, a mischievous sort of smile on her face.
“Abuela,” he says warmly.
“I hear we have visitors coming?” she says, crossing into his room and coming to rest at the chaise longue near his writing desk.
“I’m pretty sure Mom’s arranging a car as we speak,” he says, flashing a fake smile.
Abuela hums, regarding him with an appraising look as if she’s trying to read everything he’s not saying in the set of his shoulders or the slant of his eyebrows. She’s always been far too perceptive when it comes to him.
“How are you really feeling, Eddito?” she asks. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Eddie hangs his head, letting out a weary sigh, before coming to sit beside her. “Do I have much of a choice?”
“You always have a choice,” she tuts. “Don’t let your parents make you think you don’t.”
“I always knew what my life would be. This isn’t some cruel twist of fate handed down by the universe. It’s my duty – to my family, to this kingdom.”
“And what about your duty to yourself?” she asks quietly and Eddie looks away.
He takes a moment to rally himself before he can manage to smile at her again. “I’ve gotten everything I want from life already. Christopher is enough. I don’t need anything else.”
Abuela watches him with something that could be pity on anyone else. From her, it’s just an overwhelming sense of empathy and love. She reaches out to pat his cheek and Eddie marvels – as he always does – at the way the casual affection he shares with her and his aunt never comes as easily with his parents.
“Protect yourself, Eddie,” she murmurs, a quiet request. “Please. For me. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
He swallows, emotion he doesn’t expect clogging his throat. “You had an arranged marriage. So did Mom and Dad. I’ll be fine,” he promises, lifting a hand to cover Abuela’s with his own where it still rests on his cheek.
“I know,” she says, smiling in a way that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “And I was very happy with your abuelo. But you, mi ángel, have always dreamed of love. I want that for you.”
Tears burn behind his eyes but he blinks them away and forces a bright smile onto his face.
“I’m sure the Maddie will be a perfectly good match.”
It sounds like a lie even to himself.
~
Buck yanks at his tie for the sixth time since they got out of the car and Maddie slaps his hand away.
“Relax,” she mutters. “I feel like you’re more nervous than I am.”
He lets his hand drop with a sigh, shooting Athena a winning grin when she casts them both a sidelong glance. She rolls her eyes before turning back to talking to the Diaz chief of staff, Bobby Nash, as they make their way up the steps of the palace. Henrietta Wilson, who is Bobby’s second in command and evidently personally responsible for Prince Edmundo, keeps pace with him and Maddie.
“How are you feeling?” he asks under his breath and Maddie gives him an exasperated smile.
“I’m fine,” she insists, reaching out to latch onto his pinkie finger with her own and giving it a quick squeeze. “You don’t need to worry.”
“I can’t help it,” he mutters.
Up until now Buck has been able to pretend this is all some farcical plan or- or a vacation for him and Maddie! But now they’re here and they’re about to have a formal introduction with the royal family and it suddenly feels real. Maddie’s getting married. Courtship or not, that’s the end goal in all this and she’s not going to be able to say no unless Buck can find a legitimate reason why.
And maybe it’s not Prince Edmundo’s fault and maybe he’s just as helpless in all of this as Maddie is but Buck’s still ready to hate him on sight.
This whole thing feels wrong, out of place. Maddie shouldn’t have to get married again if she doesn’t want to. And she sure as hell shouldn’t have to marry someone just to satisfy their parents’ need for social climbing. It’s not fair. She’s been through enough and he can’t believe their parents are willing to put her through another potential trauma by forcing her into an arranged marriage.
Well, not if Buck has anything to say about it.
He’s older now than he was when she and Doug first met and he’s determined to do whatever it takes to protect her. He even convinced his parents to let him be Maddie and Prince Edmundo’s chaperone during their courtship. (Not in an official capacity but still.)
It’s not much but if it lets him keep Maddie’s safe, it’s worth it.
They reach the main entryway and Buck grinds to an abrupt halt, just stopping short of barrelling straight into Athena. She gives him a look like she knows that’s exactly what he was about to do and he ducks his head, chagrined.
Henrietta clears her throat, clearly attempting to bite back a smirk when Buck looks up at her. “Ready?”
She’s talking to Maddie but Buck still has to tamp down on the urge to say no.
“Of course,” Maddie breathes and the doors open.
One of the other staff members introduces them. Buck hears it just as they step inside.
“Presenting the honourable Madeleine Buckley and her brother, Evan Buckley.”
The royal family are waiting by the staircase for them, their expressions ranging from eager to cordial.
And well. Prince Edmundo is exceedingly handsome, he’ll give him that.
He’s tall, though not quite as tall as Buck, dressed in formal attire with his hair swept back off his face in a way that looks seemingly effortless – unlike the fifteen minutes Buck spends in front of the mirror in the morning trying to make his curls sit just right. His tanned skin and big brown eyes, coupled with the affable smile make him seem…
Charming. He is, quite frankly, the fairy-tale definition of a Prince Charming and Buck feels himself seethe with something that’s not quite jealousy but maybe somewhere adjacent to that.
Prince Edmundo steps forward and, for the first time, Buck notices the little boy behind him. That must be his son, Christopher. He’s got crutches under his arms to keep him steady and one of the Diaz’s staff stands beside him – a kindly looking woman that keeps her hand protectively on his shoulder.
“Miss Buckley,” Prince Edmundo greets, stepping forward to take Maddie’s hand. He presses a faint kiss to the back of it and Buck bites the inside of his cheek so hard he’s pretty sure he draws blood. “It’s an honour to meet you.”
“And you as well, your highness,” Maddie replies, offering up a curtsy and a careful smile. And if nothing else, Buck will admit the smile Prince Edmundo offers in response seems more sincere than Doug’s ever was.
He turns to Buck then, extending a hand to shake.
“Your highness,” Buck greets before Prince Edmundo gets a chance to, giving his hand a too-tight shake and finishing it off with a half-assed smile.
Prince Edmundo raises an eyebrow but decorum wins out above anything else. “Mr Buckley,” he returns, his own hand tightening for a moment around Buck’s. If Buck didn’t know any better he’d almost think he was amused.
Queen Helena interrupts then, gliding forward to take Maddie’s hand. “Madeleine. It’s so lovely to finally meet you.”
Maddie bows again, greeting the queen with a, “Your majesty,” that betrays none of the unease she might be feeling. One thing’s for sure, their parents trained her well.
“Welcome to our home,” King Ramon adds, coming to stand beside his wife and offering Maddie a greeting of his own.
They greet Buck and Athena next, completely pleasant and completely perfunctory. Their focus is on Maddie and that’s abundantly clear. Well, that’s fine with Buck. It’ll make it a hell of a lot easier for him to poke holes in this whole match if no one’s paying attention to him.
“We hope your journey was pleasant?” Helena says, eyebrows raised expectantly.
“It was very comfortable,” Maddie assures. “It was so generous of you to send a car.”
“It was our pleasure,” Helena says then and she looks like she means it. “Well, we’d love to stay and chat a bit more but I’m afraid the king and I have a very important meeting we must attend to.”
“The work never stops,” Ramon jokes. “Eddie will show you to your living quarters and we’ll see you at dinner tonight.”
With that, they take their leave and Buck lets out the breath he’s been holding this entire time.
If he didn’t know any better, he’d say Prince Edmundo does the same. But then he turns to them with a beatific smile and gestures to the staircase.
“You must be tired after your journey. I can show you to your rooms and give you some time to get settled?”
The car ride had only been a couple of hours but Buck’s not gonna complain. Standing on ceremony is exhausting.
“Thank you, Prince Edmundo,” Maddie says because Buck might’ve used up all his manners by now but she clearly hasn’t. “That’s very kind of you.”
For the first time, there’s something almost awkward in the prince’s demeanour. Buck doesn’t understand what it is until he says, “Please, call me Eddie. I don’t see any reason why we should have to stick to formalities if we’re going to be getting to know each other as we are over the next few months.”
Maddie’s shoulders drop where she stands beside him and Buck is begrudgingly impressed Prince Edmundo – Eddie – has managed to put his sister at ease.
“In that case, please call me Maddie,” she says. “I don’t need any titles. And Evan-“
“Goes by Buck,” he cuts in, flashing Eddie a closed-lip smile.
“Buck,” Eddie repeats, as if testing the name out.
Buck hates that he actually likes how it sounds coming from him.
“I’ll remember that,” Eddie says before glancing over his shoulder. “And um, if we’re still making introductions, I’d like you to meet our chaperone.”
He steps aside and Buck watches as the little boy takes three tentative steps forward to stand at his father’s side. Eddie immediately crouches down to his level once he does, wrapping a comforting arm around him and Buck hates his own traitorous heart for melting a little at the sight. “This is my son, Christopher.”
“Hi, Christopher,” Maddie says, voice warm and welcoming, as she holds out a hand for him to shake. She always was amazing with kids. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
Christopher takes her hand after a moment’s hesitation and stutters out a soft, “Miss Buckley,” that has Buck biting his lip so he can maintain his composure.
Why did Eddie have to have such a cute kid?
“You don’t have to call me that,” Maddie says with a chuckle. “You can just call me Maddie if you like.”
Christopher nods and lets go of her hand and then Maddie is reaching back for Buck. “This is my brother, Evan.”
Buck huffs at his given name but obediently steps forward, crouching down in the same manner Eddie had to get on Christopher’s level.
“My friends call me Buck,” he tells Christopher with a wink, offering him a hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Christopher.”
“Nice to meet you too, Buck,” Christopher says with a bashful smile as he fits his tiny hand in Buck’s to shake it.
Eddie clears his throat and there’s something inscrutable in his expression when Buck looks at him. “How about we show you to your room?”
~
184 notes · View notes
hellodropbear · 8 months ago
Text
like she used to (IV)
alexia putellas x sister
chapter I, II, III
sorry this took longer! have been very busy with work and uni for the past few days :)
~~~~~~
Aitana has been suspicious of something all week. I feel her eyes on me during training, when we're in the locker room, as she drives me home and as I walk up to my front door.
But she doesn't say anything and I am grateful. Because if she did say something, I don't think I would be able to answer without telling her every single thing on my mind.
Nobody wants that. Not me, not Aitana. Probably not Alexia either.
So instead, I sit in the midfielder's car quietly, only speaking when she prompts me to, although even that has slowed down over the past few days. She was confused the first time I told her I didn't want to stop for ice cream, and I was grateful that she didn't ask again.
"you're sure? You've never refused ice cream before, lena!"
All I could do was shake my head, keeping my eyes focused on the road ahead.
I get home and I go straight to my room which is easy enough, considering Mami comes home from work late. I am supposed to be going to school, but Aitana doesn't know that and Mami doesn't know any different. She thinks I am there, and as long as I pick up the phone to my personal tutor in the evening, the school won't bother contacting my mother.
I shouldn't be skipping school, but I can't face going there and being asked all those questions about how great it is to be training in the first team, to finally have broken through into a squad that I would hopefully play with for most of my career.
But it isn't great, not really. My life has become a game of hide and seek, escaping rooms that my sister enters, too afraid to even face her.
I am not scared of her, more of what she will say. I am barely coping as it is and anything she says will just make it worse. It is best to just leave her alone, keep my distance.
And I think she thinks the same. She said she was going to take a step back, after all.
Not that is has been any different from before she took that step back. Her back was already against the wall, on the other side of the room from me. Any further and she would leave my life completely which does not seem possible, considering we play for the same club.
But I wish she wasn't so far away, I wish that I could just reach out and grab her attention, for her to know that I needed help without even having to ask.
And it hurts me, more than I'd like to admit, that her friends know exactly how to make me feel better, to make me feel valued, worthy. But she is just there, like a fly on the wall, always watching but never doing anything.
Even the more clueless ones have started to realise that things are not perfect between me and Alexia. We are never in the same room together, I leave training with Aitana every day. It is obvious, we all know it.
So they don't push us together. They don't talk about Alexia to me and they don't ask why we don't drive home together, why she isn't the first person to give me a hug if I score in training.
They don't want me to be compared to her any more than I already have been.
Because on top of all the personal issues, there is a lot of pressure, being her sister.
'Will Elena Putellas follow in her sister's footsteps?'
'The younger Putellas - set to be better than Alexia Putellas, but still hasn't come off the Barcelona bench.'
I've seen the articles, of course I have. Nobody ever mentions it though, nobody mentions the pressure I am under, the pressure I feel to live up to the expectations.
Of course I will not score as many goals as her, of course I will not make a debut at the end of the match like a midfielder often does. It is a lot harder for a centre back to come on as a last minute sub. It is harder for a centre back to score so many goals.
There are feasible reasons why they are saying these things, but none of the news sites think to explore those reasons, exclusively focusing on the negatives.
I don't bring it up because I think that if I mention something even slightly about my emotions, every single thing I feel will all come rushing out, a tsunami wave that will destroy everything I have worked towards.
I have to be strong; I can't let a little bit of pressure overcome me. Alexia had pressure, and she was never swallowed by it.
Alexia was not weak. I can not be weak.
But it feels like the tide has been pulled back, brewing in the deep dark depths of the ocean, preparing to build and build and build until it all becomes too much, until it is here, a huge wave ready to swallow me. Too late to escape, too late to stop it.
But quelling the wave does not seem like something I can do.
The only thing I can do about it is play my piano.
It is thing I am most grateful for, my piano that brings me closer to my father, the one thing I have that nobody else does.
I may not have his memories, but I don't think any memories could match the connection I feel, just sitting on his stool, my fingers dancing on the keys that his hands once graced, the keys that we used to play together.
It was the one thing that we shared, just the two of us. Something that neither of my sisters or my Mami could understand. All they know is to leave me be when I am playing the piano. I don't want to be interrupted and they don't want to face the wrath of my anger if I am stopped before I am finished.
Because it is the only way I can express my emotions and the emotions do not stop coming until the song is finished, until there is a puddle of tears in my lap, fed by the streams that track down my cheeks.
So they leave me be. I want them to leave me with my emotions when I play the piano. But they also leave me with my emotions when I sit in the lounge room, staring at a blank tv screen, staring out the window at just about nothing in particular. I wish they would realise that I don't always want to be left with my emotions.
I wish they could notice that something may be wrong, something more than just the loss of my sister.
Because it feels like more than that. I have never felt so lost in my life.
There is just so much going through my mind at any one time and I can't let it out because once I start I will not be able to stop until my walls have burst and I am nothing but an empty shell of who I was before.
Everything I once was is gone.
Replaced by confusion, hurt, sadness.
And I don't know why, because Alexia isn't all of me, football isn't all of me.
I know it shouldn't be but it feels like it is and even though Alba is right there as well, and Mami and my friends from La Masia, all I can think of is the fact that my older sister doesn't want to be my older sister any more.
And I can't stop thinking about what it could be like, if it was still what it used to be.
~~~~~~
I spend another two weeks wallowing in my confusingly overwhelming emotions before Mapi decides to intervene, intercepting me as I walk towards Aitana after training once again.
"No, you are coming with me today, pequena!"
I didn't even realise Mapi was here, her rehab finishes at the same time as Alexia, an hour before training ends.
She beams and throws her arm over my shoulder, ignoring my disgruntled expression.
"I will see you tomorrow, ABC." I murmer softly, but both Spaniards can hear it.
They both think I am too short to see the concerned look they throw at each other, but I notice it. I notice everything.
Mapi guides me out of the facilities and into her car and I can feel her concern grow as she inspects me from the drivers seat.
"You are not ok, Elena."
Her words are soft but understanding. It surprises me how she could just pick it up like that, I thought it was less obvious.
I thought it was less obvious because nobody has brought it up to me before.
I shake my head, not trusting myself to say anything without crying, although at this point it feels inevitable.
"That's ok. It's ok to not be ok, you know?"
I nod and she continues.
"When you came over the other week, I told you to talk to someone, but I don't think you have, have you?"
I continue my vow of silence by shaking my head, my eyes concentrated on how my hands shake and fidget in my lap.
I am too concentrated on my hands to realise that my eyes have filled with tears, to realise that the first one has slipped out. I only notice when the fat tear lands with a splat on my thumb and I stare at it, my mind full of confusion and unfamiliarity.
I don't understand how I feel, because I feel sad, and angry. They are normal emotions, ones that I have always felt, just usually in a less aggressive and persistent way.
But I feel so... lost, isolated. I feel alone and that is something I am not familiar with, not at all. Usually, I would talk to Alexia about my anger and sadness, but this has been going on for so long, slowly chipping away at my self-confidence, at my happiness. Now all I can feel is the loss of someone. Someone so important.
I may be dramatic, but how else would I describe it? She decided she was too busy and threw me away, a piece of rubbish. How am I supposed to cope with the fact that it's all I am to Alexia?
We used to be so strong as a family, we were always there for each other, nobody left behind. But I can't help but feel like I have been, just a bit.
Mami and Alba love me, Mami and Alba are proud of me. But Mami gets home after I go to bed and Alba has her own life, her own friends. She doesn't need to be pulled back by her little sister who has lost the ability to deal with her own emotions.
It would not be fair for me to pile my problems with Alexia onto Alba. It would not be fair to make her pick a side.
Alexia could be the person that helps me. We have similar schedules, interests, personalities. She knew me like the back of her hand and I knew her equally as well. But I don't think I have ever felt so disconnected from her.
Mapi snaps me out of my daydreaming when she speaks again.
"It is not healthy to keep everything inside of you, pequena, so we are going to the beach and we are talking. I am going to force it out of you because I miss my bright little best friend."
She reaches over and wipes the tears from my eyes, awkwardly pulling me into a hug.
"Everything is going to be ok. You are going to be ok, Elena Putellas, because you have me."
I nod, leaning back into my chair and using my palms to wipe my eyes as Mapi turns the car on and begins to drive out of the carpark.
"Thank you, Mapi." It is a whisper, but she hears me loud and clear, offering me a watery smile before focusing her attention right back onto the road ahead.
The car is quiet as we drive to the beach, Mapi just humming along to her song.
Mapi has always been a big talker. She always says she finds silences uncomfortable and sometimes even slightly overwhelming, so she talks. She talks and talks at a speed that makes it practically impossible to register what she is saying, and the inability to comprehend her spoken thoughts is only heightened by the way she jumps from topic to topic, her voice only increasing in speed and excitement as she gets more and more carried away.
But she is Mapi, and Mapi always talks, so I got used to it, finding her chattiness endearing, she was fun, always happy.
Which is why it is so meaningful when she isn't speaking, like she knows that her words are fruitless and likely not particularly tasteful - they won't be received well.
She is silent as we walk down to the beach and as she lays her rug and pillows out, sitting down and motioning for me to sit down next to her.
She is quiet for a few moments, like she is debating within herself on what she should say and when she should say it, captivated by the way he waves crash onto the sand cyclically, the beaming rays of sun showering the crystal water, the first indicators of the imminent sunset.
When she speaks, it is slow and it is quiet. Her words hug me in a way that has been missed for so long, and I immediately soften; she would have noticed my shoulders relaxing underneath her arm.
"I remember when I first met you." Her eyes are closed and a soft smile rests on her face. "It was before I even joined Barcelona, at my third camp with Spain. I had heard about you before, from Alexia, I knew so much about you from how much she would gush about everything you did every time I spoke to her. In person, over text, she was obsessed with you and sometimes I didn't understand why it seemed like all she spoke about was her little 5 year old sister."
She chuckles, but I stay silent, still staring out at the ocean.
"But then I met you and I immediately understood why she wouldn't stop talking about you. You radiated this happiness, like a little sunbeam. Alexia got you from the barricade after a match, it was only my second ever appearance, but Alexia brought you right over to me and introduced us. You grabbed onto my leg and held it, almost yelling about how cool it was that there was another player to meet."
I smile. I have never heard this story before.
"And then the next time, you recognised me and I was so surprised, so happy. But you were also happy, Elena, you always were smiling, laughing. You would hang from your sisters shoulders and whack her on the back, swinging around in her arms and laughing so loudly that we could hear you from the other side of the pitch. You were always like that, every time I saw you. I found myself looking forward to spain camps even more, because I got to see little Elena Putellas with her big smile and cheeky personality. But recently, I think you have lost a bit of your spark because you do not seem as happy. You seem miserable, lena, and I want to help you find that spark again because I promise, it is not gone forever. It has just been buried so deep by all these emotions that are so big and overwhelming and you can't even find who you are anymore."
Her words strike a cord, and I find that my eyes fill with tears once more, but I do everything I do to hold them back as I speak. There is a long moment of silence as we both look out at the waves before I break it with a quiet inhalation.
"I am so scared, Mapi." My voice breaks but I continue anyway. "I don't know who I am anymore and it is so scary. I don't know what happened or where I went but one day I woke up and I was just a miserable shell of the person I was and I don't know what to do."
She is quick to pull me into a hug as the tears start falling because we both know that once I let out the first cry, I will not be able to stop. Her soft hands through my hair and calm words that flow through the small space we occupy will do nothing to calm the turmoil I am feeling on the inside.
Thinking about it only makes it worse, like I am shaking everything up so it rises to the surface instead of letting it lay undisturbed deep inside of me.
But Mapi's words were like stepping into a turbulent plane, shaking uncontrollably, fear falling over me and triggering emotions that I didn't even realise I had inside of me. The dirt hazes up the water until everything is a big whirlwind of confusion. Emotions moving around to quickly to capture them and try to understand them.
The things I want caught up in the whirlwind of unwelcome mess, the whirlwind that I can't seem to get myself out of.
The injured centre back whispers calm words of affirmation into my ear for a while, her hand stroking up and down my back. It keeps me down to earth, does not let me fall into the trap of a million emotions.
"We will find who you are again, Elena. I will always be here to help you. I am right here."
I want to tell her that I want my sisters to be there to help me. I want Alexia to come back and I want Alba to realise that there is something wrong. But neither of them were there like Mapi is. Alba has tried to be there for me, but she doesn't get it because I don't know what to say.
But all I do is cry in her arms. The sobs soften into quiet whimpers as the sun sets, casting a yellow glow over the beach, but we stay there even as the air becomes cooler and the sky becomes darker.
Mapi decides that I will not be going home that night, not trusting me to take proper care of herself and instead taking me back to her apartment again.
Ingrid is there this time, and she looks at her girlfriend with concern when we walk in, immediately noticing my red face and puffy eyes.
"Hey, Elena." She smiled at me, but I was preoccupied by the little black cat that had begun to circle my legs.
"We had a chat on the beach and decided that because her Mami isn't home, she would stay here the night again."
I picked up Bagheera, tickling under her chin as I sat down on the sofa, trying to ignore the wary glances that were being sent in my direction by the Spaniard and Norwegian.
"I don't know what to do."
Mapi's words were hushed, and by the way she immediately spoke more quietly when she saw my head whip towards them, it is clear that they were not for my ears.
But as I fiddle with Bagheera's fur, I dissect her words. More than I should and definitely more than she wants me to.
She doesn't know what to do with me. She doesn't know how to help, how to fix what has been broken.
She doesn't know whether she should talk to Alexia because it would break my trust. Because telling Alexia could just make it all so much worse.
I think I have been holding onto hope that she really is that clueless and is trying to do what she thinks is best for me. I try to hope that is the reason this has all happened, and not because she simply has forgotten about me, or because she doesn't want to be responsible for me any more.
But honestly, I think it is a mix of all of that. And I think it has evolved from guilt, not watching my games, wanting to avoid the awkward conversations that could have arisen if she had apologised to me.
I wish she knew that an apology would make all the difference. A sincere one, from her heart.
Unprovoked. Just her, being truly apologetic.
Because as humiliating as it is, I would do anything to be back in her arms. I would do anything to have my older sister back, I wish that she would just do something that would make this all go away, to pick up the pieces of my shattered insides and stitch them back together. Eventually, the stitches would dissolve, I would forget all about them and I would be able to function normally again.
But Alexia is not a surgeon, and she would not be able to do that stitching seamlessly. She would use glue, but even that won't put it all back together so perfectly.
There is no way for her to just put it back together and pretend it never happened, to move on like this was just a blip. Because I am different now, I have grown. She has missed so much of my early teenage years - the years that I have most needed her help.
But I am not even sure that Alexia wants that any more; I don't know if she wants to fix this all up and move on.
The dinner table is quiet as I pick at my meal, Mapi encouraging me to eat more than a few bites, claiming she won't leave until my plate has been cleaned up.
Ingrid doesn't utter a single word, instead her green eyes piercing through my skin. I feel exposed to Ingrid, as if she can read everything, understand everything, just from one simple glance.
It is ridiculous, but she is deep in thought so I don't say anything to her either.
It is only when Mapi opens her mouth again that Ingrid's eyes flick over to her girlfriend.
"Does Alba know you feel like this? Or your Mami?"
It is a simple question, but strikes a chord.
No, neither of them know. Neither of them have even noticed a change.
I shake my head roughly, and Ingrid releases a scoff.
I look up, offended.
"What?"
She turns her head to me, confused, so I continue.
"It is not my fault! It is not easy to talk about these things."
"No, no. Elena, that was not directed at you."
She seems apologetic so I have to believe her. I push my chair back, attempting to leave the room with a clutter, cursing my misty eyes for what feels like the millionth time that day.
But me exit is not as seamless as I would have liked, and Mapi is standing right in front of me when I get up, wrapping her arms around me.
It is supposed to be to trap me, but Mapi's arms will never not be a comfort.
I immediately relax into her grip, sighing softly.
"I am so confused."
~~~~~~
Mapi's hands were running through my hair, my lap on the sofa as the tv played that evening. It had been an hour since dinner and the three of us had moved into the lounge room, the silence being filled by the Spanish show on the screen.
But there was a knock on the door and Ingrid sighed, standing up to open it, knowing that neither Mapi or I would get up.
It was both surprising and unsurprising to see Aitana standing there, her hair messy and over of her face, as if she had just been in bed.
"Is Mapi still awake?"
She didn't bother to greet Ingrid, clearly here for a reason. Why else would she have arrived at almost 11 at night.
I couldn't hear Ingrid's response, but I could hear Mapi speaking to me.
"She's worried about you too, Elena. You-"
I love Aitana, I always have.
"I know she is, she is terrible at hiding it. But she has avoided bringing it up. If she wanted me to talk to her I would try my best to, but she hasn't."
Again, I love Aitana and I know she has my best interests at heart. She knows I need to talk about everything to someone, but she also knows that I don't want to. She doesn't want to push even though I can tell she is worried. She is stressed.
Ingrid and Aitana enter as soon as I finish speaking, the Spaniard almost running to where I am lying, placing her hand on my cheek.
"You have been crying."
It is blunt, a bit surprising. I don't really know what to expect from Aitana, she has always been the light hearted one who never would shy from telling me how great I was, but we have never really spoken about melancholy emotions like these.
I suppose there has never really been a need to in the past, that is what Alexia and Alba were for.
She sits down on the floor in front of my face, her knees up to her chest as she stares at me, intensity in her eyes. It is not unlike the intensity she often displays on the pitch, motivated and passionate.
"I will help you." She is decisive. "We will fix this."
I nod softly and she runs her hand down my cheek.
"You are too young to be feeling like this, little Lena. I am sorry I let it get this far."
I look at her in confusion and she pauses before continuing.
"I knew something was wrong. I went to your games at La Masia."
I can tell Mapi is listening closer now.
"I know she didn't go to any."
Mapi gasps, quite loudly, and Aitana gives her a frustrated look, rolling her eyes softly.
"I should have said something to her. She doesn't realise how important you are, how lucky she is to have you."
I frown at her words.
"Lucky?"
It hasn't something I'd ever considered my sisters to be, having to look after a small child for most of their adolescence. Having to please me for so long.
"I used to dream of having a baby sister like you, she is lucky."
Mapi decides it is her turn to add something to the conversation.
"She loves you, Elena, she always has. Of course she thought she was lucky. She needed someone to help her pick on Alba."
There is suddenly a lump in my throat. I think it is the mention of the before that triggered it. The memories are too hard to handle, I usually avoid them at all costs.
My eyes become wet again, apparently, but Aitana just laughs softly.
"You two were just so mean to her, the poor thing."
Mapi lets out a chuckle from above me as well, and I find my mouth turning upwards into a smile.
"I probably should apologise now, shouldn't I?"
Aitana shakes her head, not able to hold back her laughs and Mapi is the same from where I can not see her.
It is when I finally laughed that I feel Mapi soften beneath me and see Aitana exhale a soft sigh of relief. They thought I wouldn't notice, but I did. I notice everything.
"We will fix this, ok?" Aitana was somewhat serious again, her hand patting my face. "We have a day off tomorrow, I will be here and we can all talk. We can all decide what to do next."
"Why are you two doing all this for me?"
Aitana sighs and Mapi's hands pause in my hair.
The midfielder looks above me, as if encouraging her to reply, but I speak up again before she can.
"Alexia is your captain, your teammate. She is your best friend, Mapi. Why are you doing so much for me when we are not speaking?"
There is another pause. It looks like Aitana is about to hit Mapi on the head, but the Spaniard speaks up before she can.
"Alexia has so many people behind her. Alexia is strong, she is experienced and she is older than you. You are just young, pequena and you are so lonely and lost. We want to help the both of you, but we need to help you first."
She pauses and Aitana finds the time to interject. It is like they have been talking about me.
Come to think of it, they probably have.
"You looked like you were going to burst. We knew that you and Alexia weren't speaking, that both of you were having a hard time because of it. But Elena, you looked destroyed. We couldn't leave you to your own devices any more. And Elena, we are doing this because we love you. So, so much."
"Alexia loves you too. More than us. She just does not do a great job of showing it, that's all."
I sigh softly, falling backwards into Mapi's lap, wondering just what I have done to deserve this.
How luckyI am to have my older sisters friends there looking out for me.
Because my family was falling apart and it was my fault. I couldn't do everything alone.
I choose not to think about what would happen if Mapi and Aitana weren't here like they are.
A tear slips down my face again, but this time it is not so sad. It is full of emotion, a grateful tear. Not quite happy, but not sad either.
"Thank you."
~~~~~~
hope you enjoyed :)
this chapter was more to gauge where elena is at, sorry if it was boring!
part V
358 notes · View notes
babiebom · 1 year ago
Note
Hey brother, I am humbly requesting a SDV Sam (or Alex) fic about the harvest festival & the fortune teller. I just think it’s a cute idea to see what the fortune teller says to Sam before/after meeting the farmer
A/N: this is such a cute idea!! Since this is more of a one shot request I can do both on this post? Hopefully by the time you see this it isn’t too far into the future!! Hopefully you enjoy how I wrote this!! Sorry it took a little while!
Genre:oneshot, fluff, some angst.
Tw:mention of death, mention of depression/insecurities, cursing, 2 mentions of the war that goes on in the game.
Wc: 0.5k for Alex / 0.5k for Sam
Sdv Masterlist
Alex
Alex was never one to go visit the fortune teller. He simply doesn’t really believe in magic, or the ability to see the future. Sure, there was the weird wizard that lived near the forest, and the monsters that live in the caves, but those were just outliers and didn’t have anything to do with the general population. The first and only time he went to it as an adult, was with Haley. He hated his fortune then, it tore down all his dreams and put him into an even more insecure place than he was in before.
No mom, no dad, and aging grandparents and now the woman in the tent is telling him that his current girlfriend isn’t his soulmate or the one he will end up with, and they’re saying his gridball career won’t take off and he’s going to end up in Pelican Town for the rest of his life? Actual dogshit.
It’s his own fault that he asked in the first place, he thinks. Haley wasn’t too mad with her fortune, and she didn’t seemed all that torn up about the fortune teller saying they weren’t meant for each other. It just pissed him off even more. Did this mean they were going to break up? Should they? Did he even have to listen or believe the fortune teller? It was probably just bullshit anyways, a scam to get idiots to spend more money to find out their future because she scared them. He’s never doing the stupid fortune thing again!
“Let’s do the fortune teller!” Your eyes are shining so brightly with excitement that he can’t say no. Obviously he hates the damned scam, and he didn’t have to agree but he liked you too much to disagree with visiting the woman one last time.
You shove him inside first, already looking through your backpack for your coin bag. “You go first.”
He swallows and steps up to the woman, glaring at her openly. She makes no move to react to his obvious discontent, instead waiting for him to dish out money so she could say something else to crush his hopes and dreams. At least you’re in here with him to hear what actual bullshit this is…you’re kicked out of the tent while he’s getting his fortune read.
“Hmm…I see you in the town’s square…it looks like you’re receiving a mermaid pendant. Looks like someone wants to marry you!”
“Marriage? To who?” He hopes that it’s you. You weren’t really in a relationship right now, but he does hope that it’s you giving him that pendant.
“Hmm…you’re watching a gridball match with the other guys in town…looks fun! It seems like you’ve brought everyone together.”
“The crystal ball has moved on…I see you and the farmer. You’re laughing together on the beach, looks like you’re holding a ball. The way you’re going it looks like you two are quite close! Ah…the crystal ball has gone dim. That’s all I can do for you, young one.”
Stepping out of the tent, Alex somehow feels better. He’s going to get married at some point, and you and him are going to be on good terms for a while. Maybe the fortune teller isn’t totally uncool.
Sam
The fortune teller was one of the creepiest attractions of the fair to Sam by far. Magic was something that he thought was cool, inspiring even, but that doesn’t mean he wants anything to do with it. Him, Abigail, and Sebastian get their fortunes read every single year, paying attention to whatever has changed, what has and hasn’t come true. It’s fun and sometimes a little scary when things turn out how the fortune teller said it would.
Abigail liked it the most out of the three. The year before he meets you is the first time in a while that his fortune had changed. The woman had said specifically that “someone was coming to the valley that would bring the budding success of his music.” All he really heard then was that his music career was going to take off at some point, and that’s all he really needed to keep working towards his goal.
You hold his arm tightly as you walk around the fair along with Abigail and Sebastian. It’s your first fair since you’ve come to Pelican Town, and Sam is all too willing to show you around. Besides, Pierre was probably going to win the stupid competition, again, and he wanted to be able to support you closely. Not because he has a crush or anything (he does), he’s just a good friend! “We should show the Farmer the fortune teller! See if they get a good one or not!”
This starts your groups trip to the tent. You seem a bit anxious about getting your fortune read, so like the good friend Sam is, he offers to go first and tell everyone his fortune to show you it isn’t so bad.
The woman smiles at him as he enters, and he immediately returns her positive energy. She always said good thing(except when she predicted his father was going to be deployed because of the war) so he liked her. He paid her quickly and watched as the crystal ball begins to glow.
“I see you performing on a small stage, the person who is going to support your music career is front and center. They are going to be the reason that you are performing so passionately. They buy some of your cd’s to help support you.”
He wonders for a second if that’s you. He had been feeling a little more inspired since you came around, and you never hesitated to praise him and his music when you get a chance to listen to him play in his room. “Hmm…I see you in a big house, something is playing on the television. The children seem excited about whatever is playing, so do you and the farmer. They’re smiling so brightly at you, don’t let them lose that light.”
It absolutely has to be you. He wonders what you’re so happy about, and who the kids are. Are they your kids? Maybe his mind is going too far, especially since a relationship wasn’t mentioned.
“The crystal ball is shifting…your father returns from war. He is safe, and unharmed…but he is not the same as he was. It seems that he is unhappy…oh…”
The crystal ball grows dim, maybe the last bit wasn’t totally good, but the rest of it was. He gets to perform, and you’re there cheering him on. His heart thumps as he exits the tent and meets your eyes. The way you’re looking at him is so bright. He feels excitement full his body, he has so much to look forward to.
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6okuto · 1 year ago
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GOOD WITH KIDS
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ushijima, suna, hinata, akaashi, sakusa, kita, atsumu with their kids ^__< reader is never mentioned so u can imagine them as single dads if u'd like 🫶
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USHIJIMA’s tall, to say the least. his daughter finds this incredibly beneficial to her every few days. all she has to do is walk up to his spot on the couch and look a little fidgety, biting her bottom lip, for wakatoshi to smile. “is something high up again?” “yeah…the cereal’s on the top shelf again! i didn’t put it there last time though, i swear.” she furrows her brows as her dad stands up to his full height. “well, let’s get it down from there together, then.” he easily pulls her into his arms and she giggles, maneuvering her way to sit on his shoulders with practiced ease. “make sure not to bump your head,” he reminds her, slowly walking to the kitchen. “i won’t!” she carefully holds onto him, and wakatoshi’s glad she hasn’t figured out he’s the one who’s been putting things high up whenever she’s finished with them.
SUNA holds his daughter's hand, his phone with two tickets to the barbie movie open in the hand that's free. they had gotten ready together—rintarou had let her put her cutest pink clips into his hair, and made sure to get a shirt that matched the shade of her dress. he took her to buy a whole outfit for the occasion, from the dress to her bag to her shoes. the pair had taken photos and videos, one currently posted on his story that had her face out of view, but bow in her hair shown off. “can i get the barbie popcorn combo, too?” she asks in line. “yeah, you wanna get a photo with the barbie cut-out after?” “yeah, yeah! she looks so pretty.” rintarou hums and lets her swing their arms back and forth, careful not to hit the people around them. “i think you’re even prettier, though.”
HINATA has always supported his son in decorating and expressing himself, which is why when he wanted to decorate his room, he couldn’t say no, even with his lack of artistic skills. instead, they worked together to fill online shopping carts with different merchandise and furniture and got temporary wallpaper that would fit the bill. a couple of weeks later, and now shoyo finds himself sitting on the ground setting up a new desk, surrounded by boxes and different figures that will hopefully fill the bookshelf they built a few hours earlier. “dad?” “yeah?” “do you think i could get some of your team’s stuff, too?” “my—” shoyo fumbles with the screw in his hand in shock. “like, like your shirt? or something signed by uncle bokuto?” the question could make shoyo cry, he thinks, and he makes a noise of excited agreement. “of course you can! do you want to check my old high school stuff, too?”
AKAASHI’s a fan of thunderstorms. his daughter on the other hand, is not. so he’s made it a little game. they’re sitting together in a blanket fort, legs touching and hands on their lap.she fidgets slightly at the sight of the lightning, but starts to count out loud for the thunder. “one, two, three, four…” keiji joins and they watch each other carefully. at eight, the thunder rumbles the house and his daughter reaches over—not for a hug or comfort, but to try tickling her dad who does the same. she squeals as he reaches for her sides, and keiji laughs as she, maybe a little aggressively, tickles him back. when he picks her up to sit her on his lap, she yells, “no fair! that’s cheating!” between giggles and yelps. in mock indignation, keiji replies, “cheating? i would never do that.” yet stops anyway. his daughter jokingly huffs. “i’m gonna get you next time.”
SAKUSA’s eyes widen as his daughter runs up to him, only to hide behind his legs. instinctively, his hand moves to hold and comfort her as he scans the park for what could have scared her. it’s when two large dogs bark that he spots them playing with each other and the dots click. he turns to squat in front of his daughter, who looks at him with wide eyes and a pout that make his heart clench. “dad,” she says softly. “hm?” “do you think i could play with the dogs? they’re…big.” she sends a pointed look to other kids walking up to the owner and their pets. kiyoomi hums again and gently rubs her shoulder. “ it looks like they’re being nice with the other kids, right? why don’t we go together and ask?” his daughter nods and grabs his hand, and kiyoomi’s eyes crinkle as he smiles before walking over with her.
KITA’s son is adamant that his bed is the comfiest in the house. shinsuke’s happy to hear this, of course, even if he’d have to personally disagree. he’s about to rest in your own bedroom, when his son catches up to him in the hall. “do you wanna try my bed?” shinsuke blinks, processing the question. he laughs a little. “i don’t think i’d fit properly.” “we can both fit!” and before he can object, his son is pulling him into his bedroom and onto the bed that was definitely not made for the two of them to fit. but something tells him that he won’t get out of this easily, so he lets out a breathy laugh before crawling in, leaving space for his son to curl in with him. his back will probably hurt a little when he wakes up, but he pulls the blanket over the both of them anyway with a soft smile on his face.
ATSUMU rolls up his sleeves and pretends to crack his knuckles. “y’ready?” “yeah!” his son says with determination. the carnival game worker counts down, and they both get ready with their basketballs. the grand prize, the largest teddy bear, was locked behind a rigged basketball hoop, but the two of them refused to give up. and apparently atsumu’s mind is on another level right now, honed in as he succeeds with most of his tosses, and gets the last needed shot for that damned bear. “dad! you did it!” his son cheers and excitedly pulls on his arm. “ha! and who said i couldn’t play a sport other than volleyball?” “...no one?” “aw, come on,” atsumu whines, “work with me here!” the both of them are play-fighting when the worker manages to get the bear down and hand it to them. there’s huge grins on both of their faces as they shout a thanks. “can i put it in my room?” “and hide this success? it’s goin’ in the living room.” “you can do that?” “majority of the family says yes, we can do anythin’.”
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@devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @semifilms @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @dimslover @kuroaka @vampyrkookie @sunaslay @the-midnightskies @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @scill-a @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist
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sixosix · 1 year ago
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I DON'T WANNA HURT YOU (I JUST WANNA BE) | LYNEY
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warnings 3.5k words, vague descriptions of wounds, lyney crushing already, cesar appearance:(
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“This is crazy,” Lyney whispers frantically as they stumble over their steps, eyes wide and darting all over the place. “This is insane.”
“Lyney,” his sister whispers sharply, “she can hear you.”
Lyney swallows and steals a quick glance at The Knave, yet she’s staring ahead. But with Lynette’s words, Lyney notices that she’s gotten a bit closer than before. She was listening. Not that Lyney really cared.
Lyney tightens his grip on Lynette's hand as they advance further inside. He shudders at the scathing feeling of numerous curious eyes on him, uneasy about the idea of those gazes focusing on his sister. Though he can't see her while she's hiding behind him, he senses that she has tucked her ears and tail.
“A bond stronger and thicker than blood.” Lyney blinks and realizes that The Knave has been talking to him this entire time. She doesn’t quite smile, but it’s something close as she lays her hand atop their heads. “You’ll find a family here, Lyney, Lynette. From this day forth, you’re my children, and I, your ‘Father’.” With the claws of her hands in Lyney’s view, he feels as if that’s more threatening than a promise, yet Lyney feels warm all the same.
As ‘Father’ signals for Lynette to step forward and introduce herself, Lyney remains steadfast and refuses to loosen his grip on her wrist. He scans the crowd and feels like he’s looking at mirrors—orphans staring back at him, all of whom have been compelled to build a new and found family. Someone among them waves. Lyney takes a moment to collect his thoughts before reluctantly waving back.
And then he meets your gaze. Your cold and hateful gaze.
Lyney doesn’t know what he did for you to look at him in such a way. His heart skips a beat or two, enchanted. He wants to ask, but as soon as ‘Father’ asks him to tell everyone who he is next, you have turned away and walked off, disappearing into the long hallways. Lyney’s eyes never leave your figure until you’re completely out of sight.
“Lyney,” he says, hopefully loud and confident enough for it to reach your ears. It most likely wouldn’t.
As ‘Father’ dismisses the crowd and declares her leave, Lyney guides his sister over to the other orphans, their hands clasped together. They navigate the unfamiliar surroundings, their gazes and steps wandering.
The warmth envelops him, akin to stepping into a hot shower after being left out freezing in a rainstorm. It’s been too long since he experienced that—his recollections are filled with images of his shivering form, attempting desperately to share heat with his sister, whose lips are blue and trembling. The sensation is a distant memory. It's been too long since he last felt this way.
“Who was that who left just now?” Lyney asks.
The kid is sitting criss-cross apple sauce on the floor, a plate by his feet. He picks at his food. “Hm?”
Lyney points in the direction you’ve stormed off to.
The boy snorts as he follows Lyney’s gaze. “That was Y/N. Everyone knows who she is.”
We literally have just arrived, Lyney wants to snap, but he sees no point in picking fights when ‘Father’ has just promised a bond stronger than blood or whatever. There would be no bond to match what he has with his sister—he’s sure of it.
“And…? Why did she leave?” Lyney questions slowly. He watches the kid slurp the soup until it’s empty and clean and feels his stomach growl quietly in envy.
“No one knows,” he says halfheartedly. “It’s not worth the trouble. Provoking a confrontation with Y/N is signing up for a beating, and you wouldn’t want ‘Father’ to single you out when she’s the standard. Stick with your sister.” The boy sounds terribly bitter, as if having experienced it first-hand.
“Right.” Lyney has no idea what any of that means, but his pulse thrums, excited at the prospect of a mystery.
His sister fidgets beside him. Lynette eyes Lyney warily as if reading his thoughts. Don’t cause trouble, Lyney could hear her telepathically. I wouldn’t dare, Lyney communicates with his smile.
Lyney thinks he can never be as brave as you. He wonders how you manage to stand alongside ‘Father’ so frequently and maintain such composure—looking as if that’s exactly where you belong.
You look more like a soldier than an orphan, Lyney thinks. It’s beautiful in all the wrong ways.
While he diligently enjoys his homemade warm breakfast (it’s already his second plate), Lyney poses some very crucial questions to a new friend.
His name is Freminet. He jumped out of his seat when Lyney tapped him on the shoulder as a greeting, and he said he was expecting Lyney to get annoyed by his reluctance to speak, but all Lyney told him was that he was used to his sister already. Freminet warms up to them after. Well, mostly Lynette, but befriending her means would mean you should expect her brother as well.
Lunch ended, then came a new routine Lyney had to familiarize himself with.
“Where is she going?” Lyney asks in a murmur, eyes chasing your footsteps. The other orphans remain seated while you were the first to scurry off, foregoing the attempt to clean your plate. Were you so important to be able to do that?
“To train,” Freminet says simply, his eyes glued to stacking porcelain plates. He slides the chair back and heads to the kitchen.
Lyney follows after him with glasses in hand. “To train?”
Freminet nods. “We should follow. Is Lynette…?
Lyney glances off to the side, an unbidden smile tugging his lips as he sees Lynette curled up on the couch by the fireplace, eyes shut and body language relaxed. Like a cat hoarding a warm window. “I’ll get her.”
As much as it pains him to interrupt his sister’s sleep, he doesn’t know what ‘Father’ will do were they to miss a routine in the House of the Hearth. He doesn’t want to risk finding out, either.
She grumbles and sends him a biting glare but obliges all the same. They tail after Freminet.
You reemerge back into view, a weapon on your side, your face serious.
The other orphans head to the side and come back with different kinds of weapons. Lyney’s eyes bulged out of their sockets when small Freminet pads over to them with a great sword twice his size. A claymore, Freminet said, unbothered as he practically dragged his weapon around.
“This is crazy,” Lyney whispers to his sister again, who jabs his ribs with her elbow.
Lyney has never touched a weapon in his life. A butter knife here and there to cut bread nice people give him, but that is nothing compared to the long one you’re carrying. Freminet gestures to the corner of the room where it lays a chest cracked open, heaped with rusty weapons.
Unfortunately, Lyney doesn’t see any more of the weapon similar to yours. Lynette eyes the sword with muted interest, so Lyney takes the other weapon available.
He’s familiar with a bow and arrow; he’s seen how people wield them from afar and in plays. That doesn’t make it any easier when he has to hold it in his tiny hands. Lyney feels his muscles strain as he pulls, wincing at the ache that unfurls in his arms. Lynette clumsily swings around with her sword.
He cranes his neck to observe the other kids sparring, stumbling when his gaze wanders, catching you looking at him. There’s a smile on your face, but it’s not a kind one. You chuckle under your breath, then turn away.
Lyney doesn’t know what comes over him. One second, he’s at the corner of the room; the next, he’s forcing himself into your view.
You’re prettier up close. Lyney nearly misses his lines.
“I’m Lyney,” he says, face pinched with a seriousness that hopefully he conveys well to fight the blush threatening to creep up.
“I know,” you say, fixing him with a blank stare. “You saw me when ‘Father’ introduced you.”
“Do you think you can teach me?” Lyney then shows his chosen weapon as if he’s offering it to you.
You appraise him for a silent moment. Lyney shuffles on his feet. “I don’t like bow users.”
The statement hangs in the air awkwardly, with Lyney unsure of what to make of that.
“Lyney,” a soft voice calls after him. He turns and sees Lynette looking at you and her brother. “Hello.” She waves shyly at you.
“Hi.” You don’t quite smile, but Lyney feels it there. He realizes you resemble Father’s attitude quite a bit, just a ghost of it, never visible when genuine. “Lynette, right? How’s the sword?”
Lynette takes a moment to answer as if unsure what to respond to that with. “I like it.” Her gaze flits to Lyney, curious. “What’s wrong?”
Lyney feels caught, for some reason. “I just introduced myself.”
“Should you need it, seek me out if you want me to train you,” you tell Lynette, staring right ahead. Lyney feels as if he’s older than you, yet the way you carry yourself has him feeling young and small, a fawn prancing around a tiger.
You must have seen whatever face Lyney is making. “A bow is further off from a polearm than a sword; it’s nothing personal.” But the sickly sweet smile you flash at him feels very personal. However, instead of feeling miffed by this bold start of war, Lyney feels himself grinning.
“So you’re not good at every weapon?”
You start walking. “Astute observation for someone who isn’t good at any weapon.”
He trails after your steps with ease. “Hey, have we met before?”
“No.”
“You’re not acting like it’s a ‘no’.”
“Will you please let me train in peace?”
“Only if you agree to make me your sparring partner.”
You pause, sizing him up. Lyney attempts to hold a straight posture, but he noticeably deflates when you unleash a mocking laugh. “Surely you’re aware how idiotic of a request that is?”
Lyney then realizes the whole room is pin-drop silent, watching with bated breath for Lyney’s next move. And he is, of course, nothing but a performer.
“The harder the challenge to overcome, the greater the benefits to reap,” Lyney says with full-body confidence. Lynette snorts quietly because he stole it from a children’s book they found in a dump.
“A challenge,” you murmur, head tilted. “Is that why you look at me so strangely? You see me as a challenge?”
Lyney has no idea how he looks at you. “Uhm, yes?”
You seem satisfied with the answer, though. You roll your shoulders back and nod. “Very well.” Jeez, do you always talk like that? “I will be your sparring partner.”
Lyney babbles in confusion when you start walking further away before whipping around and pointing the tip of your polearm in his direction. “Try to land a hit on me. Do your worst.”
Long-distance is a bow user’s advantage. “Are you sure?”
You narrow your eyes fiercely. Lyney blinks and fumbles with the weapon in his hands. It’s begun to feel heavy now that he’s acknowledged its presence. He screws one eye shut and aims right for your head, then watches in awe as your polearm spins in a perfect circle and deflects his arrow.
“Again,” you demand, unbothered.
You are so cool.
Lyney tries again, unsurprised when he fails. But you swipe at your weapon this time, batting off his arrow as if an annoying fly. He tries once more, realizing belatedly that with each flimsy shot, you’ve been moving closer and closer.
His breath catches in his throat when you press the tip of your dull spear inches away from his nose.
“You’ve got guts to face me head-on,” you say, poking his skin, “but you’re new, so I can’t praise you for your naivety.”
He blinks. “I wasn’t—”
“Here, in the House, you prove your worth. Loyalty is your worth. How can you prove your loyalty if you can’t even live up to your words?” He releases a heavy breath when you lower your weapon, standing idle by your side. Goosebumps blossom on his arms. “Overcome me if you see me as a challenge.”
Lyney doesn’t know how to say that he sees you as a person. He’s breathless, in cold sweat—and he might be a little in love.
Lynette has become more adept with her sword under your guidance. Lyney can’t quite get the arrow to where he wants it to go, but his grip has been getting firmer—more sure and confident. He is still too far off from beating you, however.
But that’s not all that they’ve been practicing. Months have passed, and they must master other important skills if they are going to prove their worth.
Whenever they can, he and his sister sneak off to meet up with a talented individual that was kind enough to lend his knowledge to them. He’s caring and doesn’t push when they don’t answer honestly—exactly who they need, considering their identities.
Cesar pats his head, “What’s got you so distracted, bud?”
Lyney blinks up at him, schooling his expression carefully. “I was just thinking about a new trick I want to polish.”
“Hmm.” Cesar studies his face. Lyney feels a little uncomfortable. Can master magicians like him read minds? Will Cesar look into Lyney’s and ask about who it is? “You know, the more you try to cover something, the more it’s likely to show up.”
Lyney flushes down to his neck. “Um.”
“Did you meet someone you like?” Cesar grins, kneeling down to his eye level. “It’s okay. I won’t tell your sister if you want to. Though she probably knows already, that smart lady.”
Lyney shakes his head rapidly, hands waving all over to hide his unguarded expression. “There’s nothing to tell!”
Lyney wasn’t lying: there’s really nothing. He hasn’t made any progress with you. You look at him as if you see a scrap of paper, and Lyney should really back off and move on, but he likes the expressions you give him when he speaks to you either way, scrunching in annoyance or grinning in a way that makes his heart dance with fear and anticipation. It feels more human compared to when you stand across him with the air of a seasoned warrior.
“You’re a good kid,” Cesar says, toppling Lyney’s top hat over when he ruffles his hair. “And you’re going to grow up and become a wonderful magician. You will meet all kinds of people with your talent; don’t be afraid to let them in.”
This is a bit sudden. Nonetheless, Lyney dips his head in a nod.
“Lyney,” Lynette calls out, peering from the dove snug in her palm. “It’s sunset.”
“Right.” ‘Father’ is returning, and Lyney and Lynette are finally privy to a dangerous mission for the first time together. He looks back up at Cesar, who has this distant look in his eye that matches his smile. “Master, thank you for all your guidance. We will never forget all you’ve done for us.”
Lynette rises from where she’s been kneeling, bowing along with her brother. “Thank you.”
Cesar laughs heartily. “Just look for me if you kids ever need anything else apart from magic tricks, alright?”
Lyney and Lynette don’t doubt it, but they don’t need to trouble Cesar with their problems. As Fatui, they must uphold their sworn secrecy, no matter how kind and understanding Cesar would be.
“We should head back,” Lyney says. Her hair has been whipping around her face for far too long, hindering her actions during their missions. Lyney can’t really tuck them behind her…ears, so he reminds himself to buy some hairclips for her. “I don’t want to miss dessert.”
“You should try tying your hair,” Lyney says, sighing when a stray strand flicks her in the eye. “And yes, let’s head back. ‘Father’ will be assigning us to a new mission, right?”
Lynette has a delicate skip in her steps, and Lyney is content with the conclusion of a successful mission. Yet the air feels stifling when they arrive. ‘Father’ is nowhere in sight, and there’s a crowd of orphans huddled by the sofa, a first aid kit littered by the coffee table.
Bewildered, Lyney taps one of their shoulders and asks, “What happened?”
The girl farthest to the scene and closest to the twins sighs. “Y/N snuck out to a mission not meant for her. And, well, you can assume how that went.”
Lyney’s heart sinks to his stomach. “What?”
“See for yourself,” she says, pushing Lyney and Lynette to weave through the cluster of murmuring people.
Then, he notices you—your face contorted in a scowl, your body swathed in bandages. Lyney’s eyes catch it swiftly: the burns of your skin and the wince that flickers in your expression when someone gets a little too close.
“Everyone, please return to the dining hall,” Lyney says before he can even think about it. “Space!”
They don’t move, but they pause to look at Lyney. His jaw ticks. So they can rush to gossip but not direct orders?
“Now!” he barks out, gesturing to the other room. They follow, albeit unsurely, as their stares linger. The whispers subside as they do, birthing an upsetting silence that has Lyney running a hand through his face as you stare at the twins warily.
Lynette nudges Lyney, murmuring, “I’ll look for Freminet. Unless you want me to stay?”
Lyney nods, meeting Lynette’s eye. “Don’t worry.”
Your expression clears when Lynette shuts the door softly behind her. Lyney sits on the armrest and lets his eyes rake over your wounds, studying them. They all look nearly fatal, but they look as if Lyney and Lynette have come too late—no longer fresh, leaving an unpleasant taste on his tongue. What would’ve happened if you were not treated quickly?
You glower at him. “I don’t want to hear it.”
Lyney keeps his face carefully blank. “I just wanted to tell you that I’ll still be requesting sparring sessions after you’ve healed.”
Your stare became incredulous, but anything is better than the wounded look on your face when the orphans fret over you. “Fine.”
He isn’t even certain if you want him close. What hangs on his back is a bright Pyro vision, the same element that has seared your skin. If it were him, he’d be wary of himself.
“Why did you do it?” he asks quietly.
Your reply takes a while as if you debated with yourself whether you can trust Lyney or not. Luckily for him, you come to the right conclusion. “I don’t have a Vision. I don’t have the ‘potential’. They all said—Father said I could be the next director, but I don’t feel worthy.” You look back up at him. “I don’t think you would understand—”
“You wanted to prove yourself,” he finishes.
Your forehead creases, face shattering at the reminder of your mistake. Missions as perilous as these are meant for Vision users for good reasons. Regardless of someone’s skill with a weapon, it becomes an uneven playing field when there are circumstances that affect those without Visions, or even when facing enemies as highly trained as you yet have the advantage of using their elements with their surroundings to their advantage. Most of the time, those without Visions who take on missions meant not for them don’t make it out alive.
Had Lyney not received his Vision on the day he needed it, he and Lynette wouldn’t have survived. But you…
“This is all I have, Lyney,” you murmur lowly. Lyney hasn’t heard you say his name before.
“Still, you shouldn’t have done that,” he says lightly, trailing off when you gaze to the distance. “What happened out there?”
“Cecilia was too young, even with a Vision. I thought that if I teamed up with her, I could protect her and prove that I’m as good as you Vision-holders and… Well, something went wrong. It was my interference, most likely.”
Your gaze flicks back to his face, brows knitted. “It was stupid, I know. This was the first time I did something as foolish as this, under no guidance from ‘Father’.”
Lyney has an inkling; it was suspicious you pulled this off a few days after he and Lynette got their own Visions. There were barely any orphans who didn't have theirs, either. Were you feeling…?
“I still think you’re too far ahead of me,” Lyney says, hoping you’d pick up on what he’s putting down. “I don’t know how to beat you just yet.”
And then you laugh. Lyney jumps back in surprise at the full-blown laughter bubbling out of you. He’s never heard you laugh like this, and he doesn’t know why he can’t bring himself to tear his eyes away. He can’t let anyone take your joy from you now that he’s seen how bright you are with it.
“You can go, Lyney,” you say. “Don’t worry about me. Whatever punishment ‘Father’ decides to give is mine alone. I can see it in your eyes—you were planning something.”
Lyney sags, pouting. “I wasn’t really—”
“We’ll spar in two days.” You smile, and Lyney’s protests die on his tongue. “Once you prove that you can defeat me, I’ll let you help me.”
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y/n: i don’t like bow users me, leveling lyney to 90: haha yeah i know right
TAGLIST @thenyxsky @aeferkssr @1mewo1 @lacrimae-lotos @meigalaxy @hyacinth-daze @miwafei @popochakku @svasilios @heyhazelnut101
side note i am SO in love with this song so this chapter is very special to me. also hope u liked it... this was longer than last chapter!! tell me what u think if ure still reading all the way here
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ros3ybabe · 9 months ago
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🎀 Overcoming Gym Anxiety 🎀
I got asked about this through my inbox by @sxfiaaa so I figured I'd make a post about it and hopefully help a lot of people with something I too used to struggle with!
🩷 Wear Comfortable Clothing
We've all seen the beautifully dressed people on Tiktok, Pinterest, etc in their matching sets and cutr gym clothes. If that is what you're comfortable wearing to the gym, do it! Wear it, and be confident in it! If you're more of a loose clothes/sweatpants/baggy shirts or hoodie type of person, do that! Wear whatever you feel comfortable (and cute) in, because the better you feel going into a workout, the more you'll be able to focus on your workout!
🩷 Know What You're Doing When You're There
This just means go in with a plan! You don't need to know how to use every single machine or do every single exercise known to mankind. Scroll tiktok or pinterest for some workout videos for inspo (please make sure the video you get inspo from shows proper form!!! Proper form is so important for being safe!!)
If you know you can go certain days of the week, make a workout split to follow that! EX 3 day split: Monday - Leg Day, Wednesday - Upper Body, Friday - Full Body
OR, if you just want to go do cardio, then plan for that! I didn't know how to use a treadmill, but I went to the gym at my university and stood on the treadmill til I figured it out!
🩷 Remember This
No one is going to look at you and judge you or think mean things about you. Everyone is at the gym for the purpose of bettering themselves and their health. If you find people giving you occasional glances, maybe it's because they don't recognize you from the gym (or they do recognize you from somewhere else), maybe their admiring your outfit/physique, maybe their avid gym goers who are watching your form and technique, or maybe their just zoned out and you happen to be in the line of sight.
When I'm at the gym, I look around between sets and take note on other people's form to see if maybe I should tweak the way I do a certain exercise, or I'm admiring another girls outfit or physique because there are a lot of beautiful women at the gym. Sometimes, I'm thinking "dang, they're lifting so heavy, how cool!" or "wow, their form is amazing, they really know what they're doing." I've never thought bad abut someone at the gym because why would I?
🩷 Don't Be Scared To Ask For Help
if there an exercise you really want to do but don't know how and videos aren't helping, ask someone around you who isn't in the middle of an exercise and looks like they may know. The guy at the gym doing upper body who has good biceps may be the right guy to ask about upper body exercises. The girl doing impeccable Bulgarian Split Squats might be the right person to ask for help with those types of movements. Just make sure they aren't in the middle of an exercise, because that can cause some unwanted issues, especially if they're mid-rep, that can turn into a safety issue.
People love to help people, especially at the gym. If you politely ask for help from someone, they may take it as a compliment that you think they look like a person who is knowledgeable on working out. I'd definitely be so flattered if someone asked me for help or advice at the gym!
🩷 Random Advice:
remember your why! no matter how anxious you are, remember why you're going! what are your goals, what do you hope to achieve, how proud will you feel after?
start small if you have to! if it's really anxiety inducing to start working out, make it your first goal to at least step into the gym. then 2nd goal, walk around the gym to get a feel for it. 3rd goal, maybe 5-10 minutes on a treadmill, and then keep building momentum each day.
be careful with the hours you go! there is such a thing as peak gym hours. It varies by place, but a lot of gyms are busy between 2pm and 6pm I've seen. I personally love going to the gym super early morning, it's a little less busy and I'm a morning person so it works out for me! If you can only go during peak hours, bring a friend or keep your headphones on and do your thing!
Bring a friend! If you're really anxious about going alone, bring a friend with similar goals! Sometimes it can be a lot nicer to learn something new with a friend then try and learn it on your own! Plus, it's like extra motivation and accountability!
Have a motivating pre workout routine. Play some music while getting ready, prep your bags, prep your playlist, get your workout itself figured out, and just keep yourself excited to go! I love blasting high-energy music that makes me feel like a baddie on my way to the gym.
I hope this was helpful!! My thoughts were everywhere but I tried to convey them as best as possible! I'm happy to answer any questions or offer more tips and advice, don't feel scared to ask! <3
til next time lovelies 🩷
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cartierre · 1 year ago
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TENNIS COURT | fv
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SOCIAL MEDIA!AU frederik vesti x fem!tennis player!reader (fc: emma raducanu)
side note: i've come back from my hibernation side note pt2: i have zero knowledge on tennis. all of this is probably so inaccurate but we're just going to roll with it, alright?
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♡ liked by frederikvestiofficial, serenawilliams and 64,938 others
yourusername feels good to be back 🎾 pulled a muscle a few weeks ago, thankfully it wasn't all too serious and i was able to return this week! let's train hard to achieve nice things in the future! 💪🏼
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user1 so glad recovery went well!
user2 you've inspired me to always do give it my all on the tennis court, so happy you're back again! comment liked by yourusername
frederikvestiofficial finally i can return to my true calling: a wag ⤷ yourusername fear no more, your dreams are becoming true ⤷ user3 they're so alex and lily coded
user4 hopefully we'll be able to see you in wimbledon this year!
user5 it's giving "we'll boune back stronger next race" HAHAHA
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♡ liked by yourusername, frederikvestiofficial and 33,874 others
tagged: yourusername
elleuk British tennis hope Y/N Y/L/N poses in this months issue with fashion ambassadorships for tiffanyandco and dior !
yourusername is returning to the tennis court after minor health issues and has been climbing the ladder to success steadily ever since! she's a strong contender for the champion title at wimbledon this year.
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user6 y/n is so incredibly gorgeous oh my god
user7 "british tennis hope" LET'S SAY IT LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK
yourusername had so much fun during the photoshoot! can't wait to see the other pictures as well! comment liked by elleuk
user8 i've never bought a fashion magazine, but i will be running to the next supermarket for this one!
user9 i am so in love with her it's not healthy ⤷ user10 fred better sleeps with one eye open
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♡ liked by 273,283 people
tagged: charles_leclerc, pierregasly, carmenmundt, georgerussell63, danielricciardo
formulaupdates some f1 drivers attending the finals of the ladies' single in wimbledon this year! f2 driver frederik vesti's girlfriend, y/n y/l/n, is fighting against title defender jelena rybakina.
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user11 i'm sure they're not just there because y/n's fred's girlfriend but it's so adorable that they're showing such a support
user12 the way everyone looks so serious and then there's george being all 🙂
user13 i don't know anything about tennis and yet here i am watching for y/n ⤷ user14 literally same, i'm sitting on the edge of my seat as well
user15 i just know fred is somewhere on the sidelines absolutely nervous
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♡ liked by yourusername, frederikvesti, cocogauff and 574,847 others
tagged: yourusername
wimbledon The nation's tennis queen 👑
yourusername is your Ladies' Single champion 2023 🏆
#Wimbledon
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user16 SHE DID IT OMG
user17 britain might've lost their actual queen but do not worry y/n stepped up ⤷ user18 thanks to her, britain is able to play chess again: they have a queen again
user19 I AM SO PROUD OF MY BABYGIRL
user20 one of the most interesting matches to watch. y/n won fair and square, a great win! she made england in the midst of london proud!
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♡ liked by frederikvestiofficial, mickschumacher, venuswilliams and 71,293 others
tagged: frederikvestiofficial
yourusername deserved summer break 🌊
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user21 fred needs to win the f2 drivers championship and they'd literally be the most unstoppable couple
user22 they're so boyfriend and girlfriend i cannot ⤷ user23 they're each other's wag
frederikvestiofficial i don't want summer to end ⤷ yourusername italy's been too good to us
user24 i don't know if i want to be with y/n or be y/n
user25 i can't wait to see y/n back on the paddock again!
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peachsukii · 11 months ago
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— A harmless movie date turns steamy when reader and Yuuji have the theater to themselves.
⋆ ˚ʚɞ — (18+ MDNI!) first time writing yuuji! i wanted to make it sweet and sensual at the same time, so hopefully it reads that way!
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You spent an embarrassing amount of time on your hair, makeup and picking out an outfit for your date with Yuuji. Loose curls, pastel eyeshadow with wispy lashes to match your freshly manicured nails, and a cute skirt with your favorite top.
Too bad he’s making a mess of it all in the darkness of the movie theater.
“Mmph, Yuu…fuck!” You attempt to cover your mouth in time to silence yourself and fail miserably.
“Yes, baby?” Yuuji sighs as he pulls away from your sticky center, half lidded honey irises gazing up at you like you’re a star in the sky.
Your eyes fall downward to the your bubblegum boyfriend in awe. Your skirt is shoved halfway up your ribcage, pink panties stretched around your ankles while your thighs rest comfortably atop Yuuji’s shoulders. He’s got you on the edge of the folding theater chair to be sure you don’t leave a too much mess, and to let you watch him obliterate you with his tongue.
His hands grip the plush of your thighs, squeezing and rubbing them daintily as he sensually devours you, agonizingly slow and purposeful. Every single swipe of his tongue and pop of his lips are intentional - calculated, even. Yuuji knows what drives you wild versus what doesn’t after being with you for a few months. It was experimental and sloppy at the start of your relationship, but once he got the hang of things, his confidence skyrocketed - your constant praise helped of course, too. He never thought he’d be the type to be so excited by it, but your sweet nothings never cease to make him melt.
Another mewl spills from your glossy lips as he dives back between your thighs, rocking your hips forward to silently beg him for more.
“You’re…so hot like this,” you whimper, hand traveling to fist his salmon locks. “Like you can’t get enough of me.”
Yuuji chuckles, the vibrations tugging on the rubber band in your belly, pulling taut and ready to snap. He gently takes the your hands and interlaces his fingers with yours, holding them as your thighs are quaking with anticipation. He was always a sucker for holding hands during sex of any kind and reminded you just how much of a sweetheart he is.
Your walls clamp down on his tongue, locking him in place as your release washes over you, flooding from your core and all over his face. Chest heaving and a bead of sweat rolling out from under your bangs, you sink into the chair as he laps up every ounce of your arousal. Your cheeks and neck are beat red in the afterglow of your orgasm - Yuuji’s favorite thing about you. You look like a goddess to him when you come, blissed out and angelic as your lashes flutter with delight.
With one last flick of his tongue, he removes your legs from his shoulders and sits back on his knees with a grin on his face. He’s enamored with how beautiful you look under the dim light of the theater, wondering how he got so lucky to find someone as pretty as you.
You shimmy back into your panties and ruffle your skirt back into place, smoothing out the wrinkles the best you could. Yuuji moves back to the seat next to you, leaning over to help fix your hair. He thumbs away a smudge of your eyeliner from the corner of your eye - he knows you’re going to check your makeup any second now to be sure it meet your own standards.
Instead, you bend over and give him multiple soft kisses on his cheek, nuzzling your face against his.
“Thank you,” you whisper, even though there’s no one else in the theater. “Can I do anything for you, babe?”
Yuuji shakes his head. “Nah, that can wait for later.” He kisses your forehead and finds your hand to hold once again. “I got impatient. Your thighs are so inviting in that skirt, baby.”
“Guess I should wear skirts more often,” you tease, booping him on the nose playfully. “I like keeping my good boy on his toes.”
That makes his cheeks flush, your praise going straight to his groin. You notice his reaction and giggle, resting your head on his shoulder peacefully as you squeeze his hand in your hold. “We can skip the rest of the movie if you don’t want to wait.”
Yuuji jumps to his feet excitedly, tugging you along with him. “I’ve seen this movie twice already, let’s go!”
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was inspired by @kweenkatsuki-fics to finally dive into writing yuuji! hopefully this isn't too ooc for him~ ♡
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trenchcoat-turtle · 8 months ago
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Summary: All of his brothers have found their person. Meanwhile he’s stuck pining for Leo’s girlfriend’s roommate. Why does the girl of his dreams have to be taken?
“Hey Raph!” I called as I walked into the lair.
“Hey, y/n. If you’re looking for Whitney, she and Leo are already in his room.” He snickered.
“Oh, yeah I was looking for her, but I definitely don’t want to accidentally interrupt anything.”
“With how long it’s been since they last saw each other, I wouldn’t recommend it.” He chuckled again.
“You guys have been really busy lately, huh?” I asked him.
“It’s been a tough couple a weeks.” He shook his head. “Foot activity just keeps growing. It feels like an impossible task to protect the city from them sometimes.” Raphael responded.
“I can’t imagine. You carry so much weight on your shoulders.” I replied as I placed a comforting hand on his arm.
His eyes lingered on mine before he seemed to shake himself from his thoughts.
“Anyway, enough about that depressing shit, how have ya been?” He asked.
“Well, I’m single.” I laughed. “Finally got the courage to break it off with him.”
A bright smile graced his green face.
“I didn’t realize you two were having problems.”
“Yeah we have been for a while. I found out that he wasn’t cheating on me like it thought. No, the reason why he is gone all hours of the night is because he joined the foot! I was so disgusted, I would have rather he had been cheating!” I ranted as I pulled a bottle of wine out of the overnight bag I brought with me.
“He what? He is a member of the foot now? Oh shit, just wait till I get my hands on him.” Raph spoke as he cracked his knuckles.
Then almost distractedly he asked, “You spendin the night?” He motioned towards my overnight bag.
“Uh, yeah if that’s okay with you. I don’t want to stay at the apartment alone tonight.” I shrugged.
“Well since you’re stayin, you wanna watch a movie or somethin?” He asked as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck.
“Horror?” I asked hopefully as I filled two cups with red wine.
“Do we ever watch anything else?” He laughed as he took the wine from my hand. He took a swig of the rich red liquid and made a face.
“What? You don’t like red?”
“Nah? What happened to the sweet white kind you always bring?”
“I thought we should be more adventurous.” I waggled my eyes as I spoke.
His mouth dropped open a little before he quickly gained his composure. He gulped down the rest of the wine in his glass.
“Let’s go pick a flick.” I stated and he followed me out of the kitchen.
After a short deliberation we decided on Evil Dead 2. We both got comfortable on the tattered couch. Him on one end and myself on the other. After the first death in the movie, I found myself inching closer and closer to him.
“I need to stretch my legs, do you mind if I lean against you and stretch out?” I finally asked him.
“Y-yeah of course.” He replied with a bit of a stutter before motioning me over.
I snuggled up next to his side and stretched my legs across the length of the couch. His arm came to rest around me as he pulled me close.
Halfway through the movie I had completely stopped paying attention. The only thing I could think about was how good it felt to be in his arms. I was relishing in it.
Was relishing in it, until Mikey came into the room.
“What is goin on with you guys?” He asked suggestively.
“Watchin a movie. What’s it look like numb nuts?” Raphael grumbled as he held me to his side to keep me from putting distance between us. He also sent a death stare at Mikey that made him get the hint. I’ve never seen him give up on teasing so quickly.
“Oh, right. Well, good night y/n.” Mikey replied before turning around and all but running from the room.
“What was that all about?” I asked with a laugh.
“You know how Mike is. Always tryin to play match maker.” He shrugged.
“And what if he was trying to play match maker with us?” I asked him as I looked up at his green eyes. I twirled the end of his mask in my fingers.
He gulped. “I won’t let him drive you crazy like that, don’t worry.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I think he’d be pretty successful. On my end anyway.”
“You’re serious? A girl like you with a guy like me?” He scoffed.
I sat up and faced him. The movie all but forgotten in the background.
“Yeah, Raph. What is that even supposed to mean? You’re hot, strong, sweet, and funny. Why wouldn’t I be interested in you?”
He was speechless for a moment before finally saying, “You have no idea how long I have wanted you.”
“If it’s half as long as I have wanted you, I do think I have some idea.” I cupped his cheek with my hand. “I had been planning to break up with what’s his face for a long time because you are who I truly want. I was just afraid of what he might have done to me if I had.”
“You know I will always protect you. You ain’t gotta worry about him.”
I leaned in and kissed him. He responded back immediately. The kiss was needy and before I knew what was happening he was pulling me onto his lap.
He deepened the kiss and I felt a bulge through his pants. The skirt I had worn was pushed up around my thighs and I rubbed against his erection. He moaned against my lips further spurring my hips into motion.
Breathlessly I asked, “Bedroom?”
His response was to pick me up from the couch and carry me to his bed.
AN: sorry for any mistakes! I wrote this on my phone since my laptop is being buggy.
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watchingblsnowandforever · 7 months ago
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Hello!!!
Welcome back! =D
Part 2
Warning: long, long post (also a part 2 but I think y'all are used to it by now-) 😊😅
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MattMick!! Also, Beer looking between them like that and Q and Toey peeking from behind cracked me up hehe
Also, does that mean Beer is single? Wait, maybe he's aroace. That'd be really cool.
I did see some hints of a throuple of him and MattMick, but I'm happy with either option.
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SO CUTE 🥺🫶🏼
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Poor QToey 😭
Their romantic moment got rained on so hard-
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Exhibit: Here you can see three males from the species Homo sexuals. Two of them are already mated, and the third is in the courting process. We think the other male is interested too.
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Oh- But I thought- oh, this makes sense actually. So the others know. I mean not really surprising when you think about it, to be honest.
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With his unprecedented levels of obliviousness? Yeah, no, I get where you're coming from, Chain.
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That's your biggest concern about getting a penguin?? 😭😭
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Why does Peem look like the exasperated mom friend of the group 😭
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After all the tiny crumbs of the past *checks notes* 8262 eps, this is a lot of progress.
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HANDS. (I will never stop screaming about hands.)
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Cuteee
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Peem, babe, he hardly ever goes to class anyways. He's too busy following you around like a puppy.
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Me, who holds handholding above everything else (yes, even sex): *DEEP BREATHS THROUGH THE NOSE* I'm fine. *SMOKE COMING OUT OF EARS* Totally fine.
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Nothing to say, just a really good shot. (Also, Phuwin's exasperated smile seemed too real and then I learned Pond improvised that scene and yeah, that explains it)
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ChainPun: only two people with matching pillow cases
QToey: missing (me?) [Sorry I couldn't resist 😭]
TanFang: peacefully asleep
PhumPeem: chronic insomnia, aggravated by Tan's snores
Matt: cuddling Mick
Beer: dreaming of him and his friends and their boyfriends all graduating with good grades
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ChainPun. <33
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Let me wrap this moment in my memory forever. (I tried to adjust the lighting a bit but it didn't really work out 😭)
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AJSSHUJKJ!!!!! THEY GIVE ME TWO MAKE OUT SESSIONS WITHIN THE SPAN OF LIKE 4 MINUTES AND EXPECT ME TO BE SANE ABOUT IT???
No.
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Look, we all expected this. I even said on record I wouldn't survive. And all that mental Muay Thai still didn't prepare me for this.
Till now, I have watched 60 BLs, give or take, so I've seen a lot of NC scenes. Compared to some of them, this is very PG-13, but this one really got me, like very few sex scenes have managed to. The intimacy, the palpable love, want. It all came together so beautifully in this scene.
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Them saying 'I love you' during sex is canon! Yay! I knew it in my guts (wrote a fic about it) but feels so good to be right in canon hehe.
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"I love you too, now kiss me again."
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HANDS!!!! (It's canon now, they hold hands during sex, and so I can freely write a fic about it. Not that something not being canon ever stopped me but yeah.)
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Fang: my brother is in safe hands. 😌
Also, love how Peem didn't hesitate to at the chance to kick both brothers and make it a streak 😭👍🏼
Honestly though, this scene shows that Peem is going to go to very long lengths to make sure Phum is okay, even kicking his own brother (which assures me that Peem maybe wouldn't hesitate that much to sucker punch their dad either, which is important information to have for possible future fics.)
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How can one man be so goddamn cute??
The whimpering puppy noises- 😭
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Cakes are so hard to bake, for real. This one is so cute though 😭😭🫶🏼
Puppy Phum- honestly is anyone surprised? No? Thought so.
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This smile-
It holds so much happiness and the brunt of so many years of trauma. It's so beautiful. I'm probably gonna rewatch the heck out of this scene.
I end Part 1 here, Part 2 will be out (hopefully) soon!
If you got this far, thank you so much for reading! 😊 (All mistakes are mine, but in my defense, I literally fell asleep while writing this.)
Here, have a pie (of your favourite flavour) 🥧
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sunflowersandforgetmenots · 10 months ago
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Congratulations on your engagement!! I was thinking that Kassandra and 8 would be an interesting fic :) Don’t feel like you have to write one though if it doesn’t float your boat!
Thank you so much! I'm very excited! I might post updates on how things are going when we get further in the engagement! Also CONGRATS ON BEING MY FIRST ASK BACK LET'S GOOOOOOO!!!
Summary: In a world where the gods blessed mortals with the ability to find their soulmates through matching wounds and scars, Kassandra has always felt immense guilt for her bloody job.
Pairing: Kassandra x Reader
Genre: Soulmate; No Smut
Potential TW: Blood, wounds, scarring, intentional scarring of a soulmate
-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/
Kassandra never noticed the small cuts and bruises on her body. She was a mercenary, a life of injuries great and small was something she would always be used to. So when papercuts and bruises on the hips and shins appeared, she never took notice, never really wondered which ones were from her soulmate. Some who asked found that selfish, that she never worried over which of the injuries weren’t hers, that her soulmate was out there in pain and she had little care. 
But they never saw the big picture. 
Kassandra never cared about which ones were her soulmate’s, not because she was selfish, but because she hated that every injury that was hers appeared on whoever was her destined. Did she lie awake scared some nights, worried that the medium sized wound in her leg was actually much larger on Kassandra? Did she trace her fingers over scars that branded Kassandra, hating that they marred her skin just as much? It made her ache, deep in her soul, that she was causing pain and injury. Yet she couldn’t stop. Fighting was in her bones, carried over from the darkness of that spartan night on the mountain. It was her living. She had lives to support. Surely, hopefully, because her soulmate’s wounds never hurt her when they appeared, her own simply marked the skin, never harming the softness that she was surely destroying. 
Then, she learned the truth. In the market, a hot summer evening on the docks of Kephallonia, Kassandra watched as a woman bent in half, screaming in pain as her soulmate carved his name over and over into her arm. It wasn’t uncommon, branding your own skin with marks to ensure that you would find each other, but most people just do a small scar. A burn somewhere. A scar through the eyebrow. Something lasting that wouldn’t hurt much, but be noticable. Later, the woman praised the gods for her husband’s foresight, but the image of that woman, terrified and crying out in pain as the blood dripped down her arm onto the wooden docks stayed with Kassandra, haunting her nights and her mornings.
Now, the worries became nightmares. A woman, beautiful as the morning sun, gentle as the midnight moon, screaming and sobbing in pain as a spear wound appeared in her side. Claw marks raking down her face. Her eye bleeding as Kassandra’s own was impaled. Such extremes would never happen, the mercenary tried to remind herself, the gods had made it so your destined would never suffer that much from the injuries you face. And still, the dreams would haunt her. 
So she learned. Dodging became her speciality, arrows barely grazed her now, she could catch thrown spears with ease. Eventually, the wounds on her body became more bruises, something she came to live with, though Kassandra desired not a single spot on her future love’s body, no more. Now, their lives could be spent without pain, and only laughter and passion. 
Then, one night on the Adrestia as they sailed past Athens, Kassandra was woken up with a tearing pain across her upper left bicep, trailing down to her wrist in a slow, meticulous motion. She sat up with a startled cry, half expecting some wild creature set upon her by a rival or the Cult to be attacking her. A dagger flashes in the moonlight, swinging wildly for a second only to be met with air and the silence of the sea night. Barnabas wakes with her, shouting in response for the rest of the crew. Only a few stir, used to the nightmares of their crewmates after what they’ve seen after following her across the Greek world. 
“Barnabas? There’s nothing…” She pants, her hair messy from her restless sleep. 
“Aye, there’s nothing Captain.” Her first mate says, rising to his feet to come to her aide. “You were the one who woke me up- By the Gods! Your arm!” 
She looks down, eyes widening as her arm shone with blood, dark and messy in a way that she’s used to after a fight with a wild beast. And then the pain hits her. It’s nothing she’s not used to, but the absence of any attacker aboard her ships grounds her in a reality more painful than most anything she’s ever experienced. 
“No… this isn’t my injury to bear.” Kassandra croaks out, voice hoarse. “She’s been hurt.” And verbalizing that, even to a silent, concerned Barnabas and barely awake Herodotos, is easily the hardest thing she’s ever had to do.
—------------------------------------
It was months later that Kassandra finally realized what happened to her soulmate that fateful night. It had taken Barnabas a week to convince Kassandra that searching every town in Greece would take much longer than they had time for and that her soulmate wasn’t dead because of the bruises and calluses on her fingers left by a weaver’s work. So, she just kept an eye out for any woman with the same deep scars tracing down the muscle of her arm. 
And she found her. 
A beautiful maiden, laughing with a customer at her simple booth in an Argos market, a laugh that Kassandra could swear she’s heard in her dreams, and she had the same scar carving into her skin. Left bicep, all the way down her wrist. A part of her felt pain over it. The real thing, right there, something that caused someone so lovely so much pain, was the only reason she knew it was her. 
The maiden turned, ready to greet Kassandra as a new customer, then stopped, staring at her face with a very clear look of awe. Before she could stop herself, Kassandra reached out, touching the very end of the jagged mark. 
“Tell me… I’ve wondered so long, how did you come to bear this pain?” 
At first, the woman who Kassandra loved before this day looked embarrassed, then, recognition. Her own eyes trailed over the mercenary’s left arm, shock and relief gathering in dazzling eyes as she matches their scar together. 
“You’ll be so infuriated with me.” She mumbled. Kassandra nearly burst into laughter. She had caused her so much pain before, such a scare would never make her angry. Not if it came from her. “But I tripped down a hill.”
The laugh that Kassandra was holding back ripped out of her. What a woman.
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accio-victuuri · 11 months ago
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February CPNs
hello! it’s that time of the month again that i compile the sweets brought to us by the boys! this month started out very quiet but in this fandom will mean that things will take a turn in the next week/s. you just never know what will happen next. i have added some commentary here on certain incidents that i didn’t talk about separately on my blog to have “bonus content” for this round-up.
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• XZ’s GQ cover and collaboration sweets + additional ones connected to fake rumor
• not really cpn, but our boys continue to make it in the weibo hot search trend report - i still hate sina weibo but i understand how it’s relevant for them.
• XZ’s wedding suit from the AV festival. yes, this was made for him but we just had him wear that white backless wedding suit by jacquemus for GQ and now this? hmmmm. me thinks he has a preference? lol. he prefers white and that’s fine, but the choice of what looks like a wedding suit is 👀. i am on standby, let me see if this continues.
pair it off with WYB! and it’s perfect. tho i would prefer it if they are both in white. 🤍
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• xzs has the same caption as a cpf
• yibo’s watch and gg’s GQ props connection the number 91 and 3.
• chinese new year candies - gg’s weibo post, wyb’s red envelope cover clues etc
• rufeng shares new thailand fm rehearsal footage
• tencent video posting their new year vcr so close together! they could have easily posted it one after the other but maybe they didn’t want some solo fan drama. i’m happy that bobo continues to collab with 10c, and ZZ is not exclusive to 10c anymore— so hopefully this means in the future they can work on a project together <3
• clowning over XZ’s song in spring festival gala as you wish + same composer as wyb’s singles and how wyb was listening to a song from this artist lately.
• this parallel between their looks. it’s not just their characters that match each other, but their outfits from certain events. so classy!
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but i think this one is the best. seeing them get recognition for their acting in the past few months has been very rewarding. all the hard work and challenges are bearing fruit. remembering them talking about wanting to become professional actors and really take that path — studying and dreaming together. now here we are 🫶🏼
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• a cute tidbit, but the cat xz is playing with is called xiao wang. that’s because on it’s back looks like the character for wang! what a coincidence!!!! 🥹
• Bottled Joy stirring the CPN pot again by posting this on 2/13. As You Wish. The context of the post is that, as you wish — fans can get these wallpapers and photos of Bobo. but it’s a coincidence cause it’s the english title of the song GG sang @ BRTV Spring Festival Gala. 👀 the colors too, white and silver which is the same color combination of GG’s outfit. This may be meh to some, but knowing Bottled Joy’s cpn history, you can’t blame us.
• Golden Hour and Eason Chan songs @ yibo’s playlist
• Small weekend roundup - includes mention of asian pop magazines where the boys are both mentioned, supplement to xz using tickets for his spring festival photos last year as support of bobo’s movie and the phone card case appears.
• Rumor of Wang Yibo being in Hengdian - one / two / three ( i feel like this one is up there with the leica camera and gg’s bday cpn but this one is more risky on their part. as i have said in my posts, what is important is they are safe and happy. it’s their personal life. their relationship is between the two of them. as cpfs, we should be protecting them and not be people they are wary of. if we are not careful, we are no different from ss and yxh. )
• On 2/20, Yuehua & YBO have posted about the slander recently going around related to WYB and that they have reported it to the police. This went really high on HS and was widely talked about, even Du Hua reposted and reacted to it. Hours later, XZS has posted their own reminder to fans in relation to people disturbing his drama filming. What made it more important is that XZ reposted it too and put in a very firm reminder to everyone.
to give some context, the horrible rumor regarding WYB was spread around by mostly XZ fans. There was a melon that said “X” has STD and then toxic people started saying it’s WYB ( cause toxic xz fans doesn’t want it linked to XZ because of the clue given so they throw it to WYB. i know it sounds stupid, but it’s actually a common tactic done by both sides ) and even fabricated some photos. another actor, xukai was also implicated and he also reported to the police.
so this can be read by so/os as XZ&XZS trying to cover up for the toxic solos and what they did. i get why other people will think that and i personally wanted them to address the bad things his solos do. however i also understand why xz and his team can’t “betray” the solo fans. that’s just how it goes. however, in cpf interpretation, this is XZ’s way of taking away the heat from wyb and a way of putting a stop to the conversations about that horrible lie. it worked in a way that it went on HS, but not as high as WYB’s. I was also surprised that XZ reposted it himself. i am aware that the leaks and everything else is a serious issue and XZ is someone who hates being a bother to the crew. but he usually doesn’t do this. he usually leaves it to XZS or the drama account. This tells me that he personally wants to lend his name and his weibo account, to get more of the heat. The last line he said can also be a message to his toxic so/os: respect others and respect yourself.
• On 2/20, there were tarot readings some BXGs have enjoyed. One is this that is a new year CP reading done on 2/4. What made fans 👀 are:
1. this card, where OP said it’s them being hand in hand and don’t get tired of each other. and in the background is a sacred building, which symbolizes them having a vow to each other.
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more cpn was added into it when GG did MFW and people realized not to take this literally cause it could be representing the Duomo.
2. Here is the part that was v interesting to cpfs cause this person gave a prediction that followed what we cpn and happened in the next couple of days.
The two of them haven’t had many official activities recently. So from February 4th, there is a chance for the two of them to meet each other in the past few days. And as soon as the two of them meet, they won’t be going out. Yibo knows he is active but he will close up and be willing to hide at home for XZ.
this is so close to what we speculated! that they spent a quiet cny break together. 🥹🥹🥹
3. Next one is so on point it’s scary cause i have already discussed the bad rumor going around and was directed at WYB before this entry. OP was sort of right. tho i don’t know it this will be another hateful rumor, i hope not.
My prediction is that it will be in March 2024, around this time, I feel that WYB will have a a force of public opinion surrounding him. It's unfriendly to him. This power of public opinion including but not limited to WYB. If we use the 8 of Swords to understand the external environment, it is a relatively sharp. There is some public opinion about the two of them that may cause some trouble
If something happens to WYB, XZ will immediately rise up and have to rush out to protect him. XZ will work hard behind the scenes silently in his own way and are some practical actions.
I don’t think i need to further explain. It fits what happened in 2/20. 👁️👄👁️
4. WYB’s resources for 2024 will be very good. In the first quarter, the number of resources was not very large but the quality of the resources is very good. Then the Queen of Pentacles in the third quarter. In the fourth quarter, the Queen of Cups.
For context: The Queen of Pentacles, therefore, depicts a certain level of success and prosperity. But the rabbit at the bottom cautions us that we should be careful of where we leap when we are chasing that success. Queen of Cups - Generally speaking, this is a positive card for both career and finances, suggesting you're "in tune with yourself, have a good work-life balance going on, and overall a positive job experience.
The reading is close to 1 hour long and I just can’t translate it all so i’m going off what CPFs are highlighting.
• XZ’s pre Milan flight Gucci & camcorder cpn
• Fake Rumors : getting caught kissing / spending time during CNY
• XZS first post in Milan is the invitation given to XZ by Tod’s for the show. Those who had the same time as Milan saw the actual time stamp which is 1823. A beloved kadian number!!!!!
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• xz’s collar and whole look for GUCCI MFW gave us so many thoughts. lol. i know sexualization of the boys is a complicated issue in the fandom but when things like this happen — how can we stop? lol. no. but seriously. it is what it is.
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• checking their fingernails + similar pose to HB
• a comment that implies xz went to zhuhai with wyb to ride a motorcycle
• their photos match so well. 🌅
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from zz’s post in milan. it’s filled with the elements they love like the moon and a beautiful sunset background. gg was also showing off his re web shoes which is of course, because he is a gucci ambassador and all that but the “web” cpn is getting stronger. however, i am personally losing my mind over the implications in the caption he used.
• clues in zz’s mfw interviews, matching talismans on their phone cases and similar ads for shu uemura & loreal
• 8 fake rumors from CQL shoot/era that i posted about 📝
• A place CPFs landmark lol
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• spotted same mannerism! twins ☺️☺️☺️☺️
see you all next month for another round up of sweetness! just continue to support the boys and ignore the toxic moves of irrelevant people. fandom is supposed to be fun and a safe space so i hope we all fight to keep that love & peace here 🫶🏼
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