Tumgik
#If I could just have a chance to make her a sad and fun loser longing for fictionland
shokuto · 2 years
Text
Hear me out. We need to make Mary Jane insecure again so she can cope with it by being sinking into the role of MJ
7 notes · View notes
mazikeenhyde · 1 month
Text
Less than a minute...
(Ive decided to be brave, I always wanted to try my hand at writing fan fiction so here we go! If i got anything wrong, like warnings for example please let me know so i can fix it! )
WARNING – 
A Poly!Judgment-Day fanfiction containing themes and mentions of DEPRESSION, LONLINESS, SOME SMUT, ANGST, SADNESS, ALCOHOL etc 
Overall, I’m just trying to make you all cry… 
READER X JUDGMENT DAY/POLY! – Rhea, Damien, Finn, Dominik x READER- Written in first person with Y/N (Reader Female)  
Italic font – flashback, speech or memories
Less than a minute 
The hotel room was quiet, the cheap TV fixed to the wall showing Monday night Raw on a low volume mixed in with the sounds of footsteps in the corridor, each sound filling the hot humid air. Outside the rain lashed down, heavy rainclouds hung low in the night sky blocking out the starlight, yet the full moon powered through, illuminating the streets, reflecting in the puddles that ran along the gutter line. 
 It was late, most of these anonymous guests rushing around just outside our door would be returning from busy work days to catch up on sleep or be heading out for a fun night on the town.  A blissful life for most, a chance to escape their homes and stay in a bed with room service, maids to clean up after you and a reception for any assistance required! I hated it though; it wasn’t my choice but when you are on the road traveling for what felt like 300 days of the year with your partners there isn’t much of an option. A different country every month, a different state every week, Christ a different town every night. I longed for those one-off days where we were all free to do nothing. Something many people take for granted is the ability to do nothing, and I missed it. 
Life felt far too chaotic, and despite being in a 5-way Polyamory relationship, I’d never felt so alone. I longed to go home, back to our own little house, we had been away for so long now. I could picture it, the front room shelves filled up high with my collection of books. My own little library I had spent a lifetime building now just collecting dust. The cabinets filled with Dominik’s board games that had bought about so many nights of endless laughter and equally some rather extreme arguments over winners, losers, cheaters and a half empty liquor cabinet that had been drained dry after a game of Scrabble. I still laugh now thinking back to when Rhea would demand the Alexa to define a word, we were sure Dominik had made up. Still, you could always rely on Finn to settle the score with a round of tequila shots and an accidental knock of the board. 
“Oh no!” Finn would laugh as he ‘accidently’ kicked the board off and onto the floor. 
“The board fell… guess we will have to play something else aye lass” he stated sarcastically, winking at me as he passed over one of the shot glasses. 
“I wouldn’t say No to a game of Twister” Damien suggested, raising his eyebrows as he took his shot and ran his fingers down my back. I swear that man would give me goosebumps from the top of my head to the center of my core with just a passing look and that fiendish glint in his eye! 
Rhea was quick to move herself over towards us resting her head in my lap, turning her view point to a more favored position. “I’ll second that” she smiled gently kissing the inner of my thigh, my breath was hitched, excited and on edge all at once. 
“Well I’m calling it!  I won..” Dominik stated with a huff as he began to pick the letter tiles up off the floor. Smirking over at him we each adorned a loveable gleam towards the boy. A little brat at the best and worst of times, but we wouldn’t have changed him for the world. 
Moving Rheas head onto Damien’s lap where the two of them began their own little make out session I crawled my way round to Dom, helping collect the remaining tiles off the floor and boxing his board game up. 
Smiling into his eye line I whispered ‘Never change who you are Dom Dom, We will always be here and we will always love you”
“What about when they break us up though?” he asked, I could hear the anxiety in his voice, his eyes. “I have to turn on Rhea and…and..” 
I held him close, his hands holding tightly to my back and I could hear his gentle muffled cries. 
“You’ll never be alone Dom, I love you so much. Even if I’m not always there to hold your hand, ill never be far away” I whispered in his ear. 
“Less than a minuite?” he smiled. 
-----
I couldn’t deny how much love I felt for each of them, work life had been tough for the four of them after the WWE had stated they would be splitting the group up to start a new storyline involving the likes of Liv Morgan, JD & Carlito. It didn’t stop the love we had for each other, but it certainly made traveling together difficult! I often reminded them that unlike myself none of them exactly blended into a crowd. 
Sitting in the middle of this king size bed I pulled my knees up to my chest, I had stolen Damien’s hoodie and a pair of rhea’s gym shorts in the hopes of being comfortable enough to focus while I studied my textbooks, but alas tonight my mind was elsewhere. I had been studying Law for some time, it had always been such a passion of mine and thankfully no matter where we slept I could bring my books and get my head down while my partners entertained the world. It also came in quite handy when certain members of the group had one too many drinks on a night out and needed some help in escaping the police without legal prosecution. Dominik can tell the world he did hard time in jail all he likes, but it was me that got the little brat released early after a dramatic night with Rhea at his parents’ house on thanksgiving. 
The WWE had offered me a position on their legal team once I had passed all my exams, yet that was over a year ago. I had deferred my exam date twice already, I wasn’t sure what was wrong with me but I didn’t feel the love, the passion or the joy I had done surrounding myself in plans for my future dream career, I was starting to worry I had wasted all these years for nothing.
Finn was always the voice of reason; he would often sit and help me revise while Rhea and Dom would shower together after the gym and Damien would take a nap. He was the voice of reason in the group, the glue that held us all together when things got tough. It was Finn that supported us all the most when our relationship went public, none of us had wanted to hide how we felt and the WWE were supportive, but that didn’t stop the online hate. The four of them were use to random strangers throwing insults due to the nature of their job, and thankfully I wasn’t of much interest to the fans. We had done our best to keep me away from the public eye, almost everyone just assumed I was part of the WWE teams supporting the group. There were a few fan speculation pages online who loved to play the guessing game but the majority saw me as nothing, as no one. 
Finn always knew when something was wrong, he hadn’t wanted to leave me this evening but I had persuaded them all to go on the promise when they returned we could order in and cuddle up to watch a new release on tv if we connected Damien’s laptop. 
“Chicken tenders! Ooh and nuggies?” Dom said, looking around the room in minor disbelief as we all looked at him with smiles. “What?” he asked. 
“Really Dom? Chicken tenders, I’d never have guessed that bro. There’s me thinking you’d want Sushi!” Damien stated sarcastically with a smirk as he zipped up his duffel bag. 
“Ew, raw fish? Bleugh! That’s gross!” Dom was genuinely disgusted at the idea. 
“Hey! Don’t knock Sushi you little squinnie! Just because the rest of us have some foodie culture, your mother should have had you expand your pallet better!” I replied as I walked over and flicked Dom on the head. He was quick to wrestle me up and onto his shoulder, spinning me round onto the bed where he climbed on to pin me down. 
“Uh Excuse me! I think you’ll find…Mami! has expanded my pallet just fine hermosa!” He stated, daring his lips closer to mine. 
“Oh I bet..” I whispered to him closing the gap between us, our lips aching to touch. “Your pallet has had its fair share of tasting sessions aye Dom Dom” 
Before he could respond Damien wrapped his arms around Dominik’s waste pulling him off me and planting him back down to earth, ruffling his hair upon release. 
“Alright you two, break it off!” Damien patted Dom on the chest as he tossed over his rucksack from the chair. I bought my chest up leaning back on my hands winking at Dom as he scowled at me with a mix of frustration and cheek. 
Rhea walked out from the bathroom with Finn following in tow, slapping Dom on the ass and wrapping her arm around his neck. 
“Behave yourself Dom Dom” Rhea said before looking over at me on the bed, “You too Bunny, Brats be warned there will always be consequences.” She laughed and pulled Dom towards the hotel door blowing me a kiss as the two of them headed out to work. Damien followed suit leaning down on the bed to kiss my forehead. 
“Te amo, Hermosa” he held the back of my neck touching foreheads before following Rhea and Dom. 
“Ill catch up with you three downstairs” Finn said and Damien gave him a thumbs up as he headed out the hotel room door and closed it behind them. 
Finn took a seat next to me on the bed as I sat up properly and moved to the edge, adorning one of those fake convincing smiles that had worked so many times before. 
“A night of studying then? We won’t be back too late I promise, you can pick the film tonight. I dread another of Rheas slasher films aye. We will be up all night watching the door” Finn said with a gentle nudge to my shoulder. I just nodded, unsure of how to respond. It was strange, I could hide myself in the love and laughter I felt for them all, the never ending flirting and sexual frustration that would build when we were in a room. But a reminder of the real world, of the real life we were living was enough to shatter my dreams back to reality. Every day was blending into one, the repetitive endeavors were tearing my soul apart. Tears began to fill the corners of my eyes as I was quick to stand and rub them away taking a sharp breath. I knew inside I was breaking, I was like a ticking time bomb and I needed to protect them all. Finn leapt up to his feet spin me around and face him.
“Y/N, listen to me lass, you know we all love you. No matter what, no matter how hard it all gets, whether you sit the exams and pass or fail.” Finn held his hands to my face cupping my cheeks. 
Finn had suspected something was wrong for a while, he and Rhea had sat down with me before to talk. They knew about my past, the scars I had whilst silver and faded now were a window into a past life I had battled for so long to break free from, always terrified it would find me again. I was like a rabbit in headlights when it all got to much, I would freeze in fear of my mind running away with my sanity. Hence the nickname Bunny. 
“I don’t know what is wrong with me..” My voice was fragile, broken. 
Finn held me in a close hug, his warm embrace relighting the fire inside my chest, a willing to keep going forward. The serenity was quickly broken by a car horn beeping outside followed by a text alert on Finns phone. 
BRAT NO.2  -
“Oi! Save some of her for the rest of us Finn >_< get your ass down here! We’re gonna be late!”  
Finn shook his head, “That boy tests my patience to its limit at the best of times, ive a good mind to put him over my knee’ 
I laughed wiping my eyes with my sleeves “Only if you let me watch” 
He smiled and held me close, “I can stay, if that’s what you need?” 
I shook my head and released him from the hug, “No. its okay, you go kick ass! I’m gonna jump in the shower and try to get in a quick nap before I crack on with those books, can’t defer the exam forever!” 
“We will be back before you know it” Finn said softly 
“Less than a minute?” I half smiled
“Less than a minute” He returned the all too familiar phrase. Finn kissed my forehead before getting his bag of the chair and reaching into his pocket to get his phone that had started to ring. He answered the call whilst slumping his bag over his shoulder and nodding his head goodbye to me before heading out the door. 
“Dominik, I am telling you now! I swear to god if you don’t…” Finns voice faded out as he continued down the hotel hallway, the door closing behind him. 
Taking a deep breath I shook off the heavy emotional cloak weighing me down and headed for the shower. 
4 HOURS LATER   - 
Looking around the rather large hotel room we had booked for the night I came to wonder; anyone would have thought we would have been used to this horrendous decor by now. No matter where we stayed every room felt much the same, whether it was the dismal wall art, low pressure shower heads or dull painted walls that felt like they were closing in. Though I knew the others were not fazed by it, they very rarely spent a lot of time in these rooms, aside from catching up on missed sleep or dancing the devils tango with any sparing energy the four of them would be in the gym or at the WWE training centers for live shows or TV. 
Sitting here I couldn’t steady my mind, I felt lost, lonely, empty even. It wasn’t their fault, they showered me in affection, I could want for nothing but more time with them. Yet it wasn’t that either, no amount of time in the arms of Rhea could fix the damage, she was the only woman I could love with the entirety of my heart, but as incredible as she was, even Rhea Bloody Ripley couldn’t fight off the demons inside me. 
The deeper I looked the more the world felt wrong. It all felt alien, uneasy, I wondered if it was just me, was I the problem? I checked the time, just after 10pm, they would be back soon enough, why did that bring about such panic, an anxiety drowning my heart, my breathe hitched and I felt it. You just know don’t you, it could have been years, weeks, days, hours or minutes that you had been fighting the voices in your head, the devil on your shoulder, but I was so lost in it all I just wanted to be alone. 
Slipping  off the bed I pulled on my socks and trainers and headed for the door. Pausing in the doorway I felt my heart sink a little, maybe this was it, maybe I wasn’t what I had promised I would be. 
A single tear fell down my cheek as I closed the hotel room door behind me, leaving my phone and keys on the nightstand. I needed to break free, only time would tell how long for, but I needed to feel. I needed to escape the War inside my head and the only way I knew how to do that, was to run. 
1 HOUR LATER   - 
Rhea and Dom walked through the carpark with his arm wrapped around her waist as they headed towards the rental car. It had been a hard night for them and all they wanted was to climb into bed with their girl and sleep. Damien followed just behind the both of them carrying the groups bags. Finn bringing up the rear of the group was locked into his phone, his face filled with concern for their girl who hadn’t responded to a single text all evening. They had received a message from the WWE management team that they could leave early to limit fan interaction ahead of SummerSlam. 
Climbing into the rental car Dom, Rhea and Damien waited for Finn. 
“Maybe she fell asleep studying?” Dom asked as Finn sat in the back passenger seat. 
Rhea had her phone up to her ear listening to a never ending ringing on the other end, Voicemail again. “Bunny? please call me back.” She ended the call and looked up to Damien in the drives seat. 
“Priest, Floor it!” 
--------
Reaching the hotel all four of them raced from the car inside, adrenaline fed through them as they reached the hotel room. 
Hands shaking Rhea swiped the card multiple times before holding it still long enough to enter. The realization. The Silence. It was deafening.
Damien rushed in to check the bathroom as Finn scrambled around the room with Dom, looking for something, for someone they knew wasn’t there. Rhea stood frozen in the doorway, in silence, her eyes locked in. 
“Rhea?” Dom hastily rushed over, hand on her shoulder as he turned to her eye line. There it was, on the bedside table. 
Finn edged his way over to the bedside as Damien came back into the room. Hands shaking nervously Finn reached down and picked up Y/N phone and hotel keycard. 
They all shared a look between each other, a look of fear and confusion. What were they meant to do now? Where did Y/N go? 
“I shouldn’t of left her…” Finn held the phone tightly pacing the same two steps over. “I could see it, I saw it, I shouldn’t of left her…” Finn repeated again. 
“Finn?” Dom hesitantly questioned his actions. 
Rheas demeanor quickly turned and she slammed her hand against the doorframe and rushed out followed by Finn and Damien desperate to find their girl. 
“Dom stay here! In case she comes back!” Damien yelled, he paused in the hall before rushing back to the room and holding Dominick’s face in his hands. “We will find her, I promise, we will all be back before you know it” Damien kissed his forehead before turning and running back out the door. 
Dom was frozen on the spot, he couldn’t move, he looked around the room at abandoned study books, half unpacked suitcases and clothing discarded on the floor. He felt smaller than ever before, his heartbeat felt cold, his chest filled with butterflies and his hands cold to touch. 
Walking over to the window that stood from floor to ceiling he held his hand to his chest tearing up at the rain lashing down outside . “Less than a minute?” 
159 notes · View notes
randombush3 · 10 months
Text
audentes fortuna iuvat
alexia putellas x reader
part one, part two
words: 9541
summary: alexia and you as posh + becks III
content warnings: there’s some (a lot of) cheating + postpartum depression. it’s more frustrating than sad though x
notes: this covers 2019-22(ish). It was SUPPOSED to be the last part. It’s not anymore. I’m gonna do a fourth to deal w the mess I have created in a more self-indulgent amount of words than the 3k i had planned. That will probably have smut in it 😛
Tumblr media
“Y/n left me.” 
The limousine you are in is completely black, save for the white lines being measured out right next to you. 
“What?” says Jenni. 
“She left me,” Alexia says once more. The hotel room is a non-committal beige. They lie in the same bed, the older of the two welcoming her lost teammate wordlessly and without judgement. Tomorrow, they will return to Barcelona, losers yet another time. “She moved back to london. She took Nico.” 
“She can’t just take Nico, can she?” 
“Y/n, how’s Nico?” Your stomach turns, but whether that is provoked by the thought of the baby boy you left crying in your father’s arms or by the white powder outlining the rim of the woman’s nostrils, you don’t know. 
Your son’s creasing eyes, red face, and grabbing hands appear in front of you. He screams as you walk away. He doesn’t understand why he has not smelt Alexia in weeks, and he misses the comfort of home. 
Everyone waits for your answer. No one comments on the bags under your eyes. “He's fine,” you say with a smile. “He loves it here.”
“I think she is depressed,” Alexia tells Jenni, comforted by the arms wrapped around her waist, holding her close and tightly and reminding her that she is not as alone as you have made her feel. “She told me that she couldn’t be in Barcelona anymore, but she said that without giving me a chance to come with her. Her bags were packed before the conversation started — she might as well have called me from the plane.” 
“Are you angry at her?” 
“Yes.” 
Alexia thinks about it. 
“No.”
“No,” you say when they point at your very own line. The drug holds a place of both familiarity and hatred in your heart. The fine, white powder reminds you of greatness – of being the most successful girl group in the UK – but, also, of hospital visits. It’s not a past addiction, but it could have been. You light a cigarette instead, though it will make the vehicle reek. “I can't. I have a son.” 
“You’re not a saint.” They boo. “You’re allowed to have fun. I saw you the other day, and you had no qualms with any drugs then.” 
“No, I'm not a saint,” you reply. You regret that night — however little you remember. “But I am a mother.” 
“Is it that thing? Postpartum?” Jenni asks. “The baby blues are really shitty, I've heard, but they’re not supposed to cripple you. Maybe the relationship has other issues.” 
“I'm not angry at her, Jenni,” Alexia repeats. “I miss Nico. He looks like her. He has started to look a lot more like her now.”
“He would definitely suit those sparkly bralettes.” Jenni giggles at the thought. 
With an understandable lack of good humour, Alexia ponders something more realistic. “He would suit a Barcelona kit.” 
“He would be made for it. You are his mother.” 
“I'm not angry at her,” Alexia says for the third time, just to make herself believe it. Just to carve those words into her bones and tell herself that it isn’t anger, what she’s feeling. “I don't want to be angry at her. I think I'm going to see if I can move to arsenal.” 
“Don’t you dare.” 
“Well, I'm not angry at her.” 
“Alexia.” Jenni cups her cheek tenderly. “Ale.” She knows she shouldn’t. She’s not angry at you, and so there is no punishment needed. Not that… Not that kissing Jenni would ever be utilised as a weapon to get back at you. Or that she’d actually kiss her. 
“Daddy, I can't get him tonight. No, I don't want to stay over. Daddy, I…” You hate the baby. You hate yourself. You hate that Spain hasn’t done well, and that your fiancée is disappointed that nothing is how it was supposed to be. Alexia is probably lying awake in bed, missing her son, and missing you. You expect one of her teammates to call you soon, and tell her that she needs you. You’re her person. “I'm going to get some sleep and I'll pick him up tomorrow. Probably around lunchtime, okay?” 
“Alexia, bésame.” 
You had passively bought your house. It’s how property sale works when you’re a celebrity. People are always willing to do things for you if you know the price, and it never hurts to use your name to add a new flashy level to whatever stupid business they are running. It’s a mutual exploitation, to some extent. 
Highgate is beautiful. The house is beautiful. 
The reception room, with its high, decorated ceilings, is your favourite place to numbly take in the twisted jigsaw of your life when Nico has cried himself to sleep. The nursery is on the first floor. He is near enough for safety, but at a distance that allows you to regret all the mistakes you have made.
You watch him roll over onto his stomach, eyes trained on the baby monitor though your fingers graze the ivory keys of your new piano, attempting to compose something worthwhile. At this rate, your solo career is going to fail just like your relationship seems to be doing. 
Yesterday, while Alexia seemingly disappeared from the face of the Earth, you came out. It was an off-hand comment during the Graham Norton Show. A quick ‘my fiancée named him. She’s from Barcelona’ was all it took. You hope Alexia, wherever she may be, has heard about it. Jenni would have told her. You trust Jenni to be somewhat on your side because she always has been. 
The doorbell rings just as you sniffle, wiping away the tear that slips down your cheek. “Don’t be pathetic,” you mutter to yourself. “You didn’t pay five million pounds to sit here and cry. You chose to come back home.” 
Being in England – colder, drearier, lonelier England – has made you realise that your decision was not the right one. Or maybe it was. It has proven that you are as terrible a mother as you convinced yourself you were back in Barcelona, and it has also shoved the cavity Alexia leaves in your life when you refuse her entry right down your throat in the form of a constant lump and a dull stabbing in your chest whenever you think about anything past whether Nico has had anything to eat. You can’t even feed him properly, despite it being supposedly in your nature. You buy formula from the nearest Waitrose. 
The doorbell rings again. 
The insistence is not uncommon seeing as you are, at the minute, the English press’s number one target. You open the CCTV app on your phone so that you can decide whether or not to ignore the potential stalker, and your heart rate spikes when you see the hooded figure standing on the porch. Back to the door, it is not possible to determine the threat. A well-buried maternal instinct kicks in for once, and you ensure that Nico is still peacefully out cold before getting up to answer the door with the poker from the Victorian fireplace firmly in your grip. Just in case. 
You are a mother, in whatever capacity you have decided that role looks like, and so you undo the three latches on the door with brave, protective fingers. The baby monitor’s volume has increased, and the fuzz of white noise is audible if Nico were to make a sound. The vague repulsion at the idea of it all is only an aftertaste in your silent prayer for the hooded figure to not want to kill you. Some sick part of your brain imagines Nico dead, as well. It tortures you. 
The poker in your other hand, for the most fleeting of moments, is almost plunged into your chest. The imaginary, self-inflicted wound makes you think of the blood and how the baby upstairs would wail until someone found him. The grimace of annoyance on your lips is nothing new, but you have no more time to torment yourself because the doorbell is pressed again, rather impatiently. 
You open the door and the hooded figure is right in front of you. “He’s asleep,” you say, the Spanish foreign on your tongue. 
Alexia shrugs, and her hood falls down, revealing the brunette tendrils that hang from her slowly sinking bun. “I came for you,” she replies, so earnestly that it is as if nothing ever happened: past pain forgotten and replaced by sprouting memories of soft kisses and mornings where leaving was too hard to do. Some of them, you think, are not real. They don’t seem to be. Your blank stare is unsettling. You almost don’t believe her. “Can we talk?” she tries, and you notice the team-issued duffle on the tiled floor she is standing on. Then, from the pocket of her hoodie, she extracts a pastry box. The plastic window is filled with circles of different colours, and she holds out the macaroons to you as if to bribe her way into a home in which she is unsure she belongs to.
Stepping aside, leaning the poker against the wall by the door, you scratch at the bare skin of your neck. Alexia, while sweeping an arm down to collect her bag, fixes her gaze onto the ring you are wearing, and the diamond glistens with hope that this can all be fixed. “Would you like to come inside?” 
She swallows the whine of anguish that tears her heart open at the idea that this might never be her house to live in, too, and she follows you dutifully as you lead her through hallways far more luxurious than the flat in Barcelona could ever be. This is what you left her for – the person you are, no longer in worn clothing with messy hair, is quite the opposite of the woman with her back to her moments before she had to focus on football. The necklace draped on your sharpened collarbones is new, and she does not dare believe what she has been hearing is true. Yes, there are pictures, but she trusts you. She will always trust you. 
“Have a seat,” you say, gesturing to the wooden dining table. It is clean enough for her to determine that it is unused. Alexia places the macaroons in front of her, and aches at how you sit at the opposite end. 
“I…”
“I thought you were going to give me all the time that I needed.” It is a statement of distance, as if your location is not enough. 
Alexia, eyes widening at how unwelcome she suddenly feels, needs only to remind herself of the impending date of the wedding. It is beginning to loom uncomfortably, with the excitement of getting married drained out like a low tide on a deserted beach. “We have two weeks. If it isn’t going to happen, then you should tell me now. We have to give everyone notice so that they can cancel their flights.” Your silence spurs her on. “You will need to contact the wedding planner, because you refused to let me have a hand in any of it so I don’t even have their number. I’m sorry that you won’t be able to wear your dress. Vivienne Westwood is a big thing for you, I know. I’m sorry that it’s inconvenient.” 
“But Alexia,” you whisper, “I don’t not want to get married.” 
Her eyebrows furrow, head tilted slightly to the left. “I know. That is why I am saying this.” 
Your voice grows louder. “No, no. Sorry, that wasn’t the easiest thing to understand.” Across the dining table, your love that has faltered, that has hesitated and been reconsidered and been stamped down over the past month, extends towards her: its final destination, always and forever. Alexia feels it grab her by the throat, wrenching the words from her before she can even formulate a thought in response, and her body is so drawn to you, in such a powerful fashion, that she pushes her chair out from the table with a grating scrape and is stepping towards you with a finality that makes her wonder if she’ll ever leave your side. 
As she approaches, the idea that she is here becomes a little too real. You have played with the fantasy of it, of course, but the tenderness in her usually fierce eyes does not match the anger you had expected, and, in the most feeble fashion, you have never felt more apologetic in your life. 
“I’m so sorry,” you begin to say. Tears stream down your face with freed anguish, and the words are so simple yet they bear the weight of your entire soul. “I’m so sorry, darling. I made a mistake, and I have been met with the most crushing of realisations: I can’t do this without you, Alexia.” I still want to marry you, Alexia. 
The room seems to close in on your despair, attempting to bottle it, almost, and keep you trapped underneath a haze of emotions you don’t quite know how to sort through. “I… I’m beginning to hate him.” The confession hangs heavy over Alexia’s bowed head as she stands frozen in place, stuck in her journey towards you but unable to arrive. “I’m acutely aware of how cruel it is,” you continue, this next admission being what agonises you the most. It floods the room with guilt, and your voice trembles with self-condemnation that reigns harsher than any other voice in your head. 
“It’s ridiculous. I’m evil and I’m wrong, and I just feel like it is inherently in my nature to be like this, as though some fault has been built into me with warning signs we evidently ignored.” You struggle to breathe. “I wish I could take back the day we decided to have him,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper, lips doused in tears, skin searing with shame when Alexia cups your cheek with a strong, calloused hand. “He should not have to be stuck with me as a mother.” 
Your chest heaves, and you are finished. You have never verbalised it before now, and it is impossible to decide whether it has helped remove the lead lining of your heart where it has been bolstered against your will. Her other hand steadily rises to your face, but then, with only a second of hesitation, she is pulling you upwards and enveloping you in her embrace. You feel a little bit closer to her. “Mi amor,” Alexia murmurs, tone cracked with sorrow and regret. “Lo siento mucho. Desearía haber sabido, desearía haber estado allí para ti.” 
Gently, she tilts your face upwards to meet her gaze. “You are not evil and no estás equivocada. Estoy aquí ahora, y no te dejaré enfrentar esto sola nunca más.” You collapse into her. “I’m here, cariño, and I am not going anywhere.”
The sentiment is wonderful, and Alexia makes good on her word. 
When Nico begins to cry, the sound piercing through your choked sobs, Alexia realises she has missed all of her life with you. Being separated and being apart due to work, she now knows, are two excruciatingly different things. The whiny wails from upstairs visibly jar you, though you pull away from Alexia to attend to him. “I will do it,” she declares, though her firmness is not mean. “Sit down. Eat the macaroons – they’re… ‘to die for’?” You nod with instinctive encouragement. “Sí. They’re to die for. Try. Jenni says that the pink ones are the best.” 
“Jenni picked them out?” you ask with a briefly regained humour, eyebrows raising. “Had to get your friend to choose your apology gift?” In truth, neither of you know what Alexia would be apologising for, but Nico’s crying grows more incessant and Alexia is climbing the carpeted staircase before the topic can be discussed. 
Alexia reaches her son with tears brimming in her eyes. The failure of Spain at the World Cup is amplified by the idea that she has disappointed him, though he does not yet possess the tools to pledge his allegiance to her country. In fact, Nico has been sleeping in Manchester United attire (your father has been his primary carer of late, and he does not charge you money, so the price is obviously Alexia’s sanity). She is more than glad to smell his nappy, and delighted about the opportunity to change him into something less hideous. 
“Mama loves you so much,” she tells him as she manoeuvres his chubby legs into a plain, inoffensive onesie. “I promise, petit. I am going to help her, okay? And we are going to get through this together.” Alexia forgets about the taste of Jenni’s lips and the heat between them. “Mama just doesn’t see the direction she is going in. It is like her eyes are covered, and she is telling herself that she is walking down the wrong path, but this is not true. You are the most special thing in the world to us. You are the sunrise, the sunset, and the hours of the day.” 
She pauses to stand him up on his tiny feet, hands hoisted underneath his armpits. He is heavier than when she last held him, but she is stronger than before, too. Women’s football is growing, along with her muscles. Nico babbles out a vague reply, but Alexia hears what he is trying to say. “I agree. We’ll be alright.” And, with all her heart, it rings true. 
The following day, she calls the doctor for you, script written out on a piece of paper in front of her, translated perfectly so that her concern does not waver the information she needs to tell the receptionist. The clinic is famous and discreet, and they are quick to prescribe you antidepressants before the week draws to a close. You won’t be able to drink at your wedding, and everyone might think you are pregnant again, but Alexia reassures you that it will be worth it. 
Wrapped up in your own bubble, the three of you enjoy London in a way that isn’t possible in Barcelona. 
Here, Alexia has no commitment to football. There are no training sessions she must rush off to, there are no teammates to pry, and no one else to interfere with your private little routine. You quite like it, and she does too. It is only temporary, before you fly out to Menorca and hand Nico off to Eli in order to enjoy your respective bachelorette parties and then, in exactly seven days, your wedding itself. 
“You’re still smoking,” Alexia says disapprovingly, the sleep in her voice enough to make you feel a pang of guilt. It’s late at night when Nico has finally been soothed from his aching gums, and she has been able to climb back into bed expecting to find you asleep already. “Why are you awake?” 
“I’m still smoking,” you tell her. She sighs at the way you parrot her words, but presses an affectionate kiss to the junction of your neck and shoulders despite the lingering smell of cigarettes. “If I can’t drink, I’m going to smoke. This is Hollywood.” 
“This is Highgate.” Her accent curls around the name with something a little too foreign for her to ever consider this place home. “Why are you awake?” she repeats. 
You look down at the open notebook in your lap, the pages either blank or full of crossed-out lyrics. “He was so loud, but I can’t seem to write anything either so, really, it has been quite redundant.”
“I had to get a glass full of ice and hold it to my fingers so that I could help him. I could have lost some very important assets, but it seemed to do the trick.” He’s teething. You’re telling yourself that the antidepressants are little pills of miracle, and have kicked in already. “Feel.” She presses two freezing fingers to your cheek, and you gasp, flinching away from her. 
“There’s a teething ring downstairs, you know,” you tell her. She shrugs. Maybe it isn’t clean. “Don’t give yourself frostbite. I happen to quite like your fingers.” 
Alexia’s smirk is beyond suggestive, and her lips hit your neck once more with an entirely different heat to them. “Yeah?” You push her head away. “I bet it would feel good. Nice and cold.” 
“You’re delirious.” 
She continues to kiss you. “I don’t know what that means,” she mumbles into your neck, until her lips reach your face and she is near climbing into your lap – notebook long pushed onto the floor. “Dímelo en español.” 
“No lo sé.” 
“Ah. Una palabra inteligente.” 
“Claro.” 
She laughs into the kiss she presses against your lips. She never has never felt like this with anyone else. Never this relaxed, or loved, or safe. “Me vas a matar con tu inteligencia y voy a sentirme estúpida para siempre.” 
“I love you,” you state softly. “I love every part of you.” Alexia, in that moment, decides to never do what she did with Jenni again, and to never break your heart by informing you of her betrayal. 
You’re married. 
You’re married to Alexia, a woman who bears the beauty of a goddess and the strength and will of someone who could capture the sun and tame the fire that rages on its surface. 
You admire her as she sleeps so peacefully beside you, tanned skin warmed by the sunlight streaming in through the large windows of the hotel room. Later, you will get on the ferry, go back to Barcelona, and then fly to Capri for three days alone before Alexia’s preseason starts. Aside from a few meetings with Dave, you theoretically aren’t swamped with anything. You’ll be joining her in her city with Nico with a bit more permanence than last time. 
Alexia buries her face in the covers, crawling into your open arms the minute the sunlight rouses her. “Everything is sore,” she groans, her bare skin slightly sticking to yours, the sweat from last night not yet gone. 
“What happened to ‘mi vida, one more time won’t hurt’?” you tease, impersonating her heavy accent over your English with enough drama to get her to elicit another grumble. This time, it’s something about being bullied. “Darling, we have to get up. We’re having breakfast with our parents, and apparently Nico has been upset that we got a night to ourselves.” 
“Pobrecito,” she replies with a newfound level of English sarcasm. She spent the wedding reception avoiding the dance floor, engaged in a long conversation with your father. The topics spanned over most areas of life, and briefly touched upon how you are doing now. Alexia, with much pleasure, confirmed the improvement, however miniscule it has been. She is very proud of you, and he is too. “I only want one thing for breakfast.” 
Her hands begin to roam, the band of her wedding ring hitting your pubic bone. “Mi vida, one more time won’t hurt,” she mocks you from before but in her sexier, Spanish husk, sucking at your collarbone, straddling your waist.
You replace your near moan with a thoughtful hum. “I really want pancakes. Do you think they’ll make me some?”
Downstairs, where it is brighter and impossible to conceal the hickeys on both of your necks, you greet your parents, brother, Anya, and Gio. Alexia’s mother, her sister, and Jenni are sitting at the table, too. Your baby is pretending he isn’t teething, and grinning like an angel. 
“How’s married life?” Anya asks as you take a seat opposite her, Alexia to your right. The table has a gradient of bilingualism, but Gio discovered that she picks up Spanish quite easily considering she can already speak one romance language. “We’ve already found, like, four articles talking about it.” 
“How?” you ask, but you are not offended. 
Gio shrugs. “Drones, I guess. Nothing bad, though. Some speculation about the other bride – if the article does mention that. Most talk is on the dress.” It was a bloody good dress. “And I suspect that there’ll be a juicy little question about who was your Maid of Honour.” 
“Don’t be salty,” you tell her. The MOH issue was sorted out years ago – perhaps 2015 – when you binged Friends together despite having watched it thousands of times before. Anya has been yours, Gio will be hers, and you will be Gio’s. And they say trios never work. 
“I left Mia with her dad for this.” 
“You shouldn’t have had a baby with a man-slag,” Anya says with a snort, enjoying her second mimosa and Gio’s grimace at the idea of her daughter having to put up with her father’s revolving door of one-night-stands. “You’re one to make terrible decisions. At least our girl over here’s married someone who looks at her like she’s hung the moon.” 
Alexia turns to you with a smile, as if on cue, with Nico in her lap. You glance at his rounded cheeks and shining eyes, looking back up at your friends as though to check they are still there. Alexia leans forwards so that she can whisper in your ear. “Te amo. Nico, también. Mi familia es perfecta.” 
Returning to Barcelona comes with one negotiated condition on your part. You buy a bigger apartment, where there is space for an office and extra bedrooms. Alexia says her teammates will be taking the piss out of her grand new place the minute she sees it, but she is more than content to contribute to the finances with her new-and-improved salary for this season. “It’s weird to think that I’m from Mollet,” murmurs Alexia, standing in the middle of the large lounge area, surrounded by boxes. Most are from your old flat, but a few have been flown in from London. Alexia wanted you to have your Grammy with you. “This place is so fancy.” 
“It’s half of what the men’s team get,” you remind her, holding Nico with care as he gnaws away on a frozen carrot. His saliva drips onto you, but the antidepressants are working, and the therapy has been effective enough for you to start taking childcare in turns. (You had tried to previously, but Alexia wanted you to focus on yourself, knowing that things will change for all of you once the season started.) “Hey.” You place your hand on her shoulder. She tickles Nico’s chin. “We deserve this. You deserve this. Why don’t you host one of your team’s dinners? I’ll take Nico round to your mum’s – God knows she’d love to shove some food down my throat, too.” 
She shakes her head, strands of brown unstraightened due to the stress of the move and falling out of her bun with a determination to defy her hair bobble. “They would kill me if I did it without you. They’re all far too grateful that you invited Taylor Swift to our wedding.” 
“She’s a friend.” If you hadn’t been distracted by various other happenings that night, you’d have clocked that Alexia’s side of the guests were completely up to their ears in celebrities they’d never expected to meet. “Okay, so do you want me to stay here?” 
“I always want you to stay here,” she answers. 
“Not what I meant.” 
“I won’t take it back.” 
Nico babbles an incoherent yet cutely Spanish-y noise, though his words are getting closer to being said at the old age of eight months. Then, suddenly, something in him clicks. “Mama,” he squeals, his little fist scrunching up the fabric of your t-shirt. “Mamama.”
“Nicolau!” Alexia replies with just as much enthusiasm, cupping his cheeks. She kisses his nose, and then his forehead, and then his chubby knees and socked feet. “Nicolau, sí, la mama et té a las mans! Bon noi, el meu bon i intel·ligent noi.” 
“Does that count?” 
“Mama,” Nico repeats, tugging your earlobe. “Mama. Mama.” It is easy to forget about the (lessening) resentment you harbour when he speaks. Alexia gets him to say it as many times as she can before he goes back to his carrot, but, even then, the two of you stay in that spot, marvelling at your creation. 
Slowly, she turns around in a circle, absorbing the plain walls and towers of boxes. “This is going to be good. Life is going to be good,” you declare with such a firmness that it has to be true. “Darling, let’s get to unpacking and then we can think about a date for this dinner party.” 
“We are going to plan the party?” She raises her eyebrows at you. “Is this party going to start at five o’clock?” 
“Not all of us shit yellow and red.” (In a national sense – you’d have haemorrhoids for United any day of the week.)
Alexia takes Nico off you, in a show of cultural dominance. You’re actually outnumbered, considering he isn’t a British Citizen, and though he shares no DNA with your wife, he has inherited the same ability to narrow his eyes just enough to serve absolute cunt whenever he so pleases. If you weren’t feeling so ganged up on, you’d be a little impressed. “Nico y yo vamos a hacer croquetas de jamón. Adiós.” 
“Darling, the kitchen isn’t–” But you cut yourself off, deciding that she can discover that on her own, along with the criminally empty fridge. You don’t hide your smugness at all when she finds you in your almost-finished bedroom, wearing a look of utter disappointment and mumbling out a heartbroken request for a food delivery as soon as possible. 
November marks three years of being together and, also, four weeks of having Alexia’s ‘DNA’ – a pomeranian called Nala, whose Instagram account is run by her favourite parent after you called it silly and told your wife you’d much rather attend to your own seventeen million followers. 
Towards the end of the month, after a well-spent morning and then a family outing to Barcelona Zoo, Alexia meets Jenni Hermoso in a restaurant in what Jenni calls ‘your new rich-people neighbourhood’ in her text to Alexia.
Alexia, really and truly, is happy to have her best friend back in Barcelona. She missed her last year, when Jenni had returned to Atleti, and that separation maybe made what happened the night Spain was knocked out of the World Cup just that bit more understandable. “You’re a Culer, no matter how hard you try to fight it,” Alexia had said when she had climbed back into her own bed, not wanting to fall asleep in Jenni’s arms. “It was terrible to not have Y/n or you.” 
You and Jenni: Alexia’s people. 
“How’s your wife?” Jenni asks with a grin, two glasses of wine into a pleasant evening at an expensive restaurant. “You’ve left her with Nico, so something must be working.” 
In truth, you have been determined to get better. There were articles released not long after the photos of your wedding were circulated, and those speculated a lot about how you are finding motherhood. The baby pictured, captured by long-range lenses and invasive drones, was the world’s first glimpse at what Nico Putellas L/n looks like, and reminded many of them that you had a child to care for when in London, yet were frequently spotted at nightclubs and parties. You rise to most challenges, however, and find it a lot easier to adapt to weekly therapy sessions and pills every morning when you have a wrongful image to disprove. 
“It’s as if it never happened,” Alexia says, both with pride and surprise. “She now seeks to spend time with him. She takes him with her to the recording studio – the album’s coming along well.” It’s your first on your own. Nico plays with one mixing desk, while Dave (flown in from London with the promise that the Barcelona sun will do wonders for his wife’s misery) plays with another. “And… Jenni, we’ve been talking. The clinic that we used for Nico asked us if we wanted to reserve sperm when we first had him, and now they have called asking if now is a good time. I think… I think that she is really considering it. She told me yesterday that her therapist wants me to sit in on the next session, so we can go over how we can make this time different.” 
Jenni frowns, which is not what the woman opposite her had expected at all. “Why are you two having more children? You’re only twenty-five, Ale. Isn’t this going to affect your career?” 
“The men do it all the time.” She’s done a spot of research. They are younger than her when their girlfriends start getting pregnant, and they continue to play with the added admiration that they are fathers as well. 
“Yes, but they have the benefit of getting paid millions. They don’t have to fight with their federation for pitches or pay, and they can focus on football without their career sparking controversy for even existing.” 
“Then my children will grow up with a mother who fights for change.” 
“Or they grow up with a pop star who only wants things she cannot have and a footballer who can’t spend any time with them because she is too busy speaking at various conventions so that the next league match isn’t cancelled.”
“Jenni, do you think your opinion would be different if Y/n was a man?” 
This elicits laughter from the other woman, who rolls her eyes in a way that can only be described as condescending. “Alexia, you’re forgetting that I’m a lesbian too, which is a magnificent feat.” Jenni references the kiss they shared, and what happened after that. “But, no. I don’t. I want you to be the greatest footballer in the world, and you want that too. What are you going to do when Y/n tells you she wants to move back to England? Are you going to give up your future here for her?” 
The waiter interrupts briefly, collecting their empty plates and carting them off with a mission to retrieve the bill after a sharply declined offer for the dessert menu. “You don’t even know if that will happen,” Alexia scoffs, though she is a little sad that her exciting news hasn’t been well-received. “I was going to say that I’d think about the name Jennifer if it ends up being a girl, but now I’m leaning more towards María…”
She is kicked under the table, and she has to hold in her cry of pain because this restaurant is one of your favourite places to eat. “Mapi cannot have this victory over me. She’d be insufferable. Ale, you simply aren’t allowed to do that.” There’s another kick, but it is more playful this time. 
Alexia laughs, smiling and thankful that the tension has diffused. “I’m only joking. Y/n has a list scribbled in the back of her lyric book. She’ll probably be called Elena.” That is much more acceptable to Jenni’s ears, and she files that information away for next year, when she’ll tell Mapi that Alexia doesn’t like her name.
It works. Alexia and you are lucky. The doctor tells Alexia that, if she were a man, the two of you would have to be extremely careful. Your wife marvels at your ability to destroy your body and stay fertile, but she supposes that you are not the kind of woman to be a lesbian. Sometimes, she wakes up in a cold sweat, believing that you have changed your mind and left her. 
The New Year is a fresh start. Alexia decides to fix the (not so) hidden cracks in your relationship. She confides in her newly-acquired therapist. She may have made a mistake once; the secret is sandwiched between her worries about your susceptibility to depression and how Nico is a decided food critic. 
Though the therapist, a lovely bilingual woman named Sofía, raises her eyebrows, she does not pry. She slides a paper calling card over to Alexia. The paper squeaks along the coffee table between the two comfortable armchairs of the office. “I specialise in couples. Seeing as your wife is already a client of mine, I think you should consider a joint session.” Alexia is new to the idea of mental health. Before, she had been too focused on football to care about it. Even when her father died, any professional she spoke to was only hearing how her mind worked because she knew it was what was best for her performance. “And, Alexia.” She looks up at the therapist with a small, nervous smile. “Congratulations on the pregnancy. I am sure Nico will make a wonderful older brother.” 
Morning sickness drags you out of your shared bed most days. 
Alexia asks you about couples’ therapy when you have finished your dry-heaving one morning. 
“I mean,” you begin before pausing, gulping down the sour taste in your mouth and hoping nothing else is trying to hit the toilet water until tomorrow. “Sorry.” 
“Don’t apologise.” She is dressed in her training kit, but she slings her jumper over your shoulders as soon as you shiver. “Do you think it’s a good idea?” 
“It would do no harm.” As long as Sofía does not bring up Alexia’s confession, your statement will ring true. “You book the appointment. It’ll be easier to work around your schedule that way.” 
“When are you flying back to London?” Her question is not filled with hatred for the city, but with resignation to the fact that your job involves you being stretched between here and there. 
“Not until next month. I thought that I could take Nico to an away game with my dad if I got a flight for Saturday. The rest of the week would be interviews and photoshoots.” 
“How’s the album doing?” 
So far, your songs are only written when Alexia has paid you enough attention to swirl your thoughts and blur your vision. It is in these moments that the lingering, sinking weight inside of you dissipates. “Dave remains hopeful. It won’t fail, but I need it to be better than what we currently have.” 
Shamelessly, Alexia is aware of her effect on your songs. She smirks; “Alba has been begging to babysit, you know.” With no care for your current state, Alexia’s eyes rake up and down your body. You grow embarrassed by how you are slumped over the toilet, and how she is standing above you as though she runs your world. “You look beautiful, mi amor,” she murmurs as you bashfully duck your head between your bent arms. 
“You’re a flirt.” It feels too late for her to still be in the flat. “And you’re going to miss training if you don’t get a move on. There are eggs in the fridge, and Nico definitely liked the omelette you made him a few days ago. He’ll be waking up soon.”
A small sigh escapes the midfielder’s lips, but the prospect of the things she loves most in the world appearing in her life consecutively is enough to convince her to pad her way out the bathroom, swanning into the corridor with a little grin on her face as she sings out ‘bon dia’ to an impressively multilingual toddler and heads into the kitchen with the domestic intention of getting breakfast started. She leaves an omelette out for you, which you attack shortly after Alexia and Nico disappear into their daily routine. She drops him off at preschool, and you pick him up a few hours later, taking him first for lunch with Alba, and then to the studio. 
You come home to a showered Alexia who is memorising her most recent match. She lets Nico slide into her lap without hesitation, but she stays focused on the football even when he tugs on the strands of hair falling out of ponytail. You marvel at the idea of having enough room in your heart for so much love. You decide that you are not like Alexia, though it is not necessarily a terrible thing. A further observation from watching your wife settle her son with a calm, muttered Catalan telling-off, coaxing him into loving football as though he does not already, is that you are so very content with your life at the moment. 
But 2020 kind of sucks. 
For the entire world. 
You’re cut off from your home in any other manner than a digital one, and being stuck in a luxurious penthouse in Barcelona isn’t the worst fate, but it really isn’t ideal. 
Elena, however, has the benefit of coming into the world with ever (physically) present parents, who could recite the java script for Zoom given that they spend hours on therapy calls. Elena, bright and smiley and the picture of her mother, spends the first few months of her life in a happy, happy family, protected by an entire football team and a fierce older brother. (And a yappy Pomerianian called Nala.) 
“Y/n doesn’t like the name María,” Jenni tells Mapi when Alexia sends the first picture of your new addition to the Barcelona group chat. 
“The next baby is going to be a Jennifer,” Mapi says, to both the forward and the unimpressed midfielder walking a few paces in front of such a silly conversation. “For that, I can only feel sorry for her.” 
The routine changes the following year. 
It starts with an abrupt but expected conversation. One that Alexia has been dreading. 
Your album – the first one that is just you – was released two months ago, and it has done too well. Selfishly, Alexia had hoped it would fail. You have enough money, and she is earning more and more each season. Success, unfortunately, means that this little life can no longer exist. Or can it? 
“I have to do it,” you whisper to her, tears in your eyes though the smell of sex still lingers. The quietness of a child-free apartment allows for you to hear her gulp. “It’ll be different this time, darling, but I can’t be here anymore. I can’t fly out to London every few days. I can’t leave you with a five-month-old and a toddler when you are training every day and playing matches every weekend. It’s not fair on anyone.” 
Alexia kisses your bare shoulder, hands slipping round your waist as she pulls your sweaty body into her. Her chest presses against your back, but she is only behind you in this bed. She does not agree with you. She does not support it. But, like she always does, she bites her tongue. “If that’s what you want,” she replies, and part of you dies with the thought that she does not really care. “I love you. I want what’s best for you. For us.” And she tells Jenni all about it when she goes to see her a week later – the flimsy excuse of meeting a childhood friend for dinner enough to wrap a cloth around your eyes and leave you at home with a screaming toddler and a baby whose only flaw is that she grows distraught the moment she is put down. 
In the dimly lit living room, the tension hangs thick in the air. You lock eyes. “Why can't you just move with us? Everyone will want you, darling, and life would be easier,” you plead, a month down the line. The house in Highgate has been readied for your more permanent return. 
Alexia takes a deep breath, her gaze unwavering. “Why can't you get it into your head that I'm not leaving Spain or Barcelona? This is my home.”
“What about the children? School? Life? My career? Does it mean nothing to you?”
Her eyes soften. Your heart breaks, and the piece of you that has already died somehow dies again. “I'm thinking of the children. All the time, I think of them. About the reputation of my name – their name. Putellas, the greatest in the world, or Putellas, the one with potential wasted at West Ham?”
“You're being selfish, Lex,” you snap. “This is an opportunity for all of us, not just me. Think about their future!”
“Their future is here, in the culture they know, the languages they speak. I won't strip them of their identity for the sake of a 'better' life. And my career? I've worked too hard to build what I have here. I won't throw it away.” I don’t want to throw it away. Underscored by Don’t leave me again. 
The room echoes with the weight of her voice. “Their identity comes from both of us.” It’s too final for either of your liking. Elena begins to cry in her cot. “I want to try it. I want you to be open to trying it.” 
She gestures to the suitcases by the door. “Trying it and doing it are two different things. You’re taking them from me!” 
“You’re probably going to love life without them anyway!” you shout. You feel like the crying baby, except the tears rolling down your cheeks carry much more suffering than hers. “You’ll – what? You’ll go out with your friends, and you’ll be able to go to the gym whenever you want. No arguing, no crying, no toddler to entertain, no nappies to change. You never wanted children. I forced it upon you. I regret it, and I’m sorry. We’ll go.”
“Don’t go.” 
I don’t want you to go.
“I have to.” 
You turn your back to her as you fly through the corridor, prepared to console Elena in a taxi. Alexia slips her ring off her finger, and clutches it in her palm instead. Desperately, she searches for a solution. There is nothing within her reach, not even you. 
… 
She is an island amongst a sea of happy people. She is going to be the greatest footballer in the world. It kills her to realise that she can now focus on football. 
Nico starts nursery, attending the same school you once did. He adjusts to life in London seamlessly, and Elena does not seem to care either way. He learns more English every day, and his other mother calls him nightly to read to him. 
With childcare more than sorted, you are free to be interviewed, pictured, and invited to events. You rake in the publicity, especially after laying so slow over the course of the lockdown in Spain. 
“Alexia.” Jenni’s hands knead her tight shoulders, partly teasing her. Alexia wears a frown, eyebrows knitting together with an emotion she’s not sure she can name. “Ale, it’s the same game as always. Nothing has changed.” 
“I know,” she murmurs. “I don’t understand why I feel like this.” She has continued to speak to Sofía, though your joint sessions have now come to a halt while you spend your time doubling as a singer and model. The therapist, try as she might, cannot evaluate the situation effectively enough. Eli and Alba have both tried to help, hoping that weekly dinners and the constant reminder about the invention of aeroplanes would ease the turmoil of Alexia’s mind. It does not. “I am so alone, Jenni.”
Nala is too small to fill the emptiness of the flat. Screens don’t allow for her to kiss you, or play with Nico. She is scared she will miss Elena’s first words. 
“You don’t have to be.” 
It only takes a month for Alexia to break, and it sort of works. 
In Jenni’s bed, it works. Hips keening, soft pants falling from her mouth. 
Quiet moans that stay locked in Jenni’s apartment. 
Each time Alexia leaves, though Jenni repeatedly requests that she stays, she walks out as half a woman. She blinks back her tears and she checks her phone. When she calls you – not a video call – you are never any the wiser to the scratches down her back. 
Alexia remains an island, but the sand beaches are tainted with the arrival of someone else. 
In this way, she is functional. 
She can do sex. She can deal with borderline romance. She can fill the space that you are tearing open with every passing minute spent in that god-awful country you insist on calling home. She can fix it a little bit with Jenni. 
She tells herself that it does not mean anything more than a bandage means to a wound. Who wears the bandage once the gash has healed? 
Where does she put the used bandage? 
Why is she focused on bandages?! She’s having an affair. It’s not an affair! (It is.) Alexia doesn’t… quite… wanttoadmititjustyet.
The buzz of your phone is the final push that gets you to conclude the current interview you are trapped in. Before checking what the notification is, you glance at the time. You have half an hour before you need to pick up Nico, and your parents said they would drop Elena home once they returned from London Zoo. 
Alexia: Jenni has had a really good idea 
It’s an intriguing text amongst the more practical ones that oil the mechanics of managing the distance. Tonight, Barcelona play their last match of the season. After this, she’ll be flying out to London. You have missed her. The last time you saw her in person was after Barcelona embarrassed Chelsea in Gothenburg. Elated and filled with pride, it was incredibly nice to have the biggest room in the hotel to yourselves. Her medal was almost as beautiful as her. 
You: Go on…
Alexia: Just draw a heart on Nico’s hand from me porfa. You’ll see. 
You slide into the driver’s seat of your newest self-indulgent car; a Porsche. Momentarily distracted by a camera flash, your turn onto the main road is a little risky, but you manage to make it to the school in time to collect your son. 
“Was he good?” you ask his teacher as she hands you Nico’s book bag. You take in the sight of him: hair messy, school uniform stained though they require the little ones to wear aprons for most of the day. “It’s a little different here. I’m hoping that he’s enjoying himself.” 
“Our new assistant is from Spain,” says the teacher with a small, tired smile, batting her long eyelashes at you. “We had to pry him off her.” 
You let out a laugh. “He misses his mum.” 
“He’s extremely intelligent. He knew to speak Spanish to her and English to us.” Though your grasp of Spanish is near-fluent after such reluctance from your wife to try English, you know that the two-year-old has a talent for juggling the three languages he is growing up around. You’re proud of him. “You shouldn’t worry about him. And, speaking of, we have a parents’ coffee morning just around the corner. It’s always great for the parents to get along – it helps the school feel even more like a family. Will it just be you attending?” Nico’s teacher is around your age, and you can smell her rose perfume that mingles with the soft hint of ready-mixed paint. She has deep, brown eyes, and she is definitely flirting with you. 
“Next week, right? I’ll have to check with my wife.” 
It’s then that a toddler-sized hand grips your fingers and tugs. “Mama, me voy,” he groans; something akin to Alexia’s impatience. It reminds you of when you used to go shopping and she’d herd you out with the threat of getting in the car and driving away. “Venga.” 
“One sec, sweetheart.” There are countless ways in which you miss Alexia. “My wife and I would love to come.” 
Her smile does not falter on her lips, but there is a greyish disappointment that dulls the warmth of her irises. You smile as you turn your back and lead Nico to the car. You are so excited for Alexia to complete the broken puzzle. 
You melt when she kisses the heart drawn onto her hand when celebrating her goal. Nico copies her, lips pursing and sloppily mimicking the action on a similar heart. “For you, sweetheart,” you tell him as he settles back into your side, careful not to jostle Elena who has fallen asleep on your chest (the therapist did wonders for you). 
“It was for you,” Jenni tells Alexia after the match. Her goal is now serving as the move Alexia feared she’d make. They have changed and been massaged and done the media the are required to do (women’s football is growing): they are free to roam Barcelona if they so wish. 
Her flight is tomorrow evening – “I have a flight tomorrow evening.” 
“Come over tonight.” It isn’t a question, yet it is not quite a command. Mapi passes the two of them, eyes narrowing at the way Jenni has wrapped her hand around Alexia’s wrist. The defender is aware that something is going on, though it breaks her heart to imagine Alexia ever doing that to you. Not knowing they are being watched, Alexia steps in; cups Jenni’s face, brushes her cheekbone with a stroke of her thumb Mapi knows is meant for her wife. Mapi’s stomach lurches. She feels sick. 
“I need to…” It’s not a ‘no’. “Jenni.” She hates that it is not a ‘no’. 
“Ale.” There’s a beat. Mapi blinks twice, shakes her head, and backs away. “I’ll miss you, you know?” 
… 
Jenni doesn’t seem to mind when, the next day, blurry pictures of you on a family outing make rounds through the tabloids she usually doesn’t read. The fact that, up until now, no one has known that your wife is Alexia Putellas has no effect on her. She was stupid for thinking the last six months meant something. Winning together, losing together. Sleeping together. 
In this deal, Alexia has fucked over both women who love her. Except, you don’t know. She hasn’t told you, though Jenni had hoped for it secretly – hoped Alexia chose her – and it is obvious. Obvious to Jenni, who is well acquainted with the blonde hair in the wings of your concert at the O2. Obvious to Jenni, who refuses to think of herself as the other woman. 
She consults Mapi. 
Mapi, who she has come to shamefully realise already knows. 
“I can’t believe the two of you.” The defender is clear in her distaste and disappointment and, honestly, her disgust. “But I am not going to be the one to break that poor girl’s heart.” 
“I’m not asking you to.” 
What is she asking? What does she want from this utterly useless conversation? 
“Mapi.” Jenni closes her eyes, but she sees two faces instead of darkness. Nico. Elena. She’s Elena’s godmother. You decided that – convinced Alexia to choose her best friend over her younger sister, told your wife that there’d be another for Alba to corrupt. “Mapi, I love her. I don’t know what to do.” 
“She loves her wife.” The next sentence proceeds to brutally remind Jenni who that isn’t. “Tell her you’re done. Find someone else. Anyone but her.” 
That is Jenni’s resolve, because she knows that Mapi is right. 
… 
June, July, and August pass with bliss. 
Everyone says that you are a beautiful couple with beautiful children. Alexia beams with pride as she flaunts her practised English, and gladly claims ownership of Nico when he wins a prize on speech day. Every child in Reception is awarded something but that doesn’t stop her from boasting.
She explores the country with the children while you shack up in the recording studio, and brings hugs and kisses (and Red Bull) every evening after dinner. The visits are what reminds you of the sun Alexia brings, especially as the warmth follows her from Barcelona and London is blessed with golden days. Dog days. 
“This isn’t permanent.” Alexia looks up from her phone, comfortable in your bed. The house in Highgate has flecks of Spain woven into the decor now, and you like it that way. 
You climb into the bed beside her, and her arm lifts so that you can snuggle into her chiselled stomach (wow, she has been working hard this season). “What’s Jenni saying?” you ask, following your statement and hoping you’ll get her attention. She presses her phone screen into the duvet before you can translate the message – it is too long of a paragraph for you to handle. “Anyway, I wanted to tell you that this isn’t permanent.” 
Alexia, over the past few months, has been the most affectionate, loving, amazing person with the same smile and giggle you married. You thought she had disappeared and was replaced with stern, career-focused Alexia Putellas, jugadora del fútbol. You were wrong. 
���I’m thinking January is when we’ll come back. Nico’s English will survive.” Your parents are going travelling. They’ve never been on the Orient Express before. “I want to be with you.” 
It is a good thing Jenni has just broken up with her. 
“I love you,” you continue. “So much.” 
Alexia hums. Her heart breaks, and she does not know for whom. “¿En serio?” She is happy, she thinks. Certainly, she is glad that the four of you will be reunited. 
 You are. 
January 2022 ruins things for Jenni Hermoso. She calls Pachuca back. 
545 notes · View notes
eldritch-spouse · 5 months
Note
I want to know how many monsters spend their paychecks at Gallon's bar crying because they developed feelings for Santi 💀
" I just... He's so amazing man. I don't even know why I'm crying, I don't deserve him. "
The latest sad sap cries onto his precious counter. Gallon circumvents them to give Fasma a shot of plain whiskey.
" You really don't. " He mumbles.
" H- Huh? "
" Nothing. Say champ, why not have another night with the hunk if you like him so much? " The bartender tilts his head, trying to cheer up the loser, or get them off his metaphorical nuts.
The monster sniffles, looking into the distance, where none other than the incubus is seen on his knees, hands on his thighs and tongue out as he apparently waits for a woman to squirt in his mouth while her hammered friends cheer her on. Gallon follows their gaze. Yeah, seems like a standard night for the resident manwhore.
" Just look at him, so radiant, so perfect. I don't want sex, dude- I want to love him! "
Fasma grimaces, definitely not because of the alcohol. He's seen Santi effortlessly do some of the dirtiest shit he could ever imagine, the thought of kissing those lips could send the old geezer into an early grave.
Gallon continues to work. " Oh boy. " He hopes this one makes a scene. It's a bit fun when they break down and throw a tantrum because the incubus won't give them the light of day unless they're putting out.
The depressed sod sniffles. " Do you think I have a chance? I... I have his phone number. "
Everyone and their mother has Santi's phone number. Maybe their father too.
Gallon grins creepily wide. " Suuure buddy, give it an honest shot. The worst he can say is no, right? " Fasma wordlessly shakes his head in disapproval of the slime's cruelty.
His client starts clumsily tip-tapping at their phone, likely typing something extensive and heartfelt, and now Gallon has to admit he's invested. If only because he knows how it'll end, and he likes to see the light fade from a hopeless romantic's eyes.
A phone eventually pings on the opposite corner of the counter, Santi's. It prompts the incubus to come over, still sucking the cuntjuice out of his fingers, some coating his chin. He doesn't bother to look around as he unlocks his device and squints at the notification. Gallon, Fasma and the client are eerily silent while he opens the text.
The incubus reads about the first three lines, frowns, then looks up. " Gallon, are you busy? "
" Uhh... Not any more than usual, why? "
The phone is slid his way. " Write me a rejection message here, please. I don't want this one coming back. "
And just like that, he turns back around, likely to see if any of the other girls can play with him too.
Gallon has to contain a maddening bark of laughter that is slowly turning him orange. He didn't even recognize the mess of a monster looking so hopefully at him from just across the counter. Oh that has got to sting!
He absolutely loses his cool and has to muffle his cackling when the monster in question wails brokenly and buries their head in their arms, sobbing like a dejected baby.
Fasma pats their back twice. They need that whiskey more than him.
94 notes · View notes
fetishfairytales2 · 2 months
Text
The Ex, Pt. 1 (Story)
Tumblr media
Hey, my pervy ladies and pathetic losers! It's time to dish the details on the moment I introduced the new and improved Sissy Brandi to her ex-girlfriend, Rachel, just like I promised! Oh, the look on poor Rach’s face when she realized her macho ex-boyfriend had transformed into a diapered little sissy...priceless! Guess maybe someone should have warned her a little more, oopsie! ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- It had been way too long since I reconnected with one of my other college BFF’s, Rachel. It had been a minute since we last talked, and let's just say Brandi played a big part in that. During a break back in school, this loser actually dated one of my friends! I should have known he was going to be all red flags, even back then. I didn’t blame her, I just figured whatever, I was still oblivious to how much of a loser Brandi would turn out to be, and I wanted him back at the time, ugh, stupid me!  But when Brandon and I got back together, things between Rachel and me just didn't feel the same. We slowly drifted apart, only keeping in touch through occasional Instagram likes and birthday texts and that was it.
However, everything changed when Brandi was “born”. I just knew I had to introduce my adorable little girl to all the important women in her life. Brandi's sisters, Sarah and Grace, absolutely loved her new look, and I was excited to show off my handiwork to Rachel. I mean, we couldn't have anyone still thinking my little cucky was a real man, could we? It was time for a reunion and a big reveal!
I decided to take a chance and slide into Rachel's DMs on Instagram. I started off casual; "hey, girl, long time no talk!" We caught up on the usual boring adult stuff: work, relationships, the works. But then, it was time for the drama. I dropped a bomb: "Yeah, Brandon and I are still kind of dating. But guess what? He cheated!" I knew that would hook her. She immediately called, all worried and supportive, like we never stopped talking.
As she was trying to be calming and sweet, she asked how I was doing. She probably expected the typical breakup story. "I’m getting over him by getting under someone new," wasn't the response she was expecting. I went in on the whole thing, making sure to really talk about Brandon's flaws. Poor, poor me, abused, cheated on, and left alone. Sure, the loser messed up by cheating, but the rest was just a little creative storytelling. I wanted my former best friend, and Brandi’s ex-girlfriend, on my side, and it worked. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, eating up my bullshit. "What are you planning to do now?" she asked, so, so very sad for me!
"No, girl," I chuckled, "it's not about what I'm doing, it's about who." She was even more interested now; the little perv. I loved my friends. "Remember Conner?" I teased. We spent a minute talking about how cute Conner always was and how Brandon was always a douchebag to him. "Well, things have taken a twist," I said, smiling, "let's just say Brandon is a changed person. He's much sweeter now, almost unrecognizable even. It's like he's a whole new person! Sort of my little revenge for his cheating bullshit." I laughed. "Why don't you come over this weekend for a girl's night and some wine? You can meet the new Brandon... or should I say, Brandi?" I teased. This was going to be fun!
Three days later, I was buzzed and giddy, I practically skipped to the door when I heard the knock. It was showtime! Rachel was about to walk on something straight out of poor Brandi’s wildest nightmares. I'd spent the evening getting cute and downing wine, so excited for when I could show Rachel what I had done to the “man” she knew. Before I opened the door, I smiled at how fucked Brandi really was. In the center of the living room, was my hunky real man, Conner, naked and looking delicious. And bent over in front of him, my sweet sissy Brandi was on display. The poor thing was dressed to impress—or should I say, dressed to embarrass? My little princess looked absolutely perfect.
Bandi’s little schoolgirl outfit was perfect - she looked like a total sissy whore.. Her so short, and so cute plaid skirt was hiked way up, showing off her tight sissy booty. I made sure to  tie up her white crop top to really go with the look, but Conner had almost ripped it totally off her already! He just couldn't keep his hands to himself. She looked so slutty in her sky-high platform Mary Jane heels too. Bent over like that, it was like those sissy legs went on forever! I was almost jealous!. Her hair was done up in pigtails with pink ribbons, matching her glossy red lips and rosy cheeks. But the best part? Of course, it was the penis pacifier gagging her, muffling her stupid little whimpers as Conner pounded her from behind!
"Hey, girl!" I called out, pulling Rachel into a hug as I guided her inside, purposely  keeping her away from the living room. I wasn’t giving away the surprise yet! “Should we have some wi…” Rachel looked shocked as she heard a faint scream. "Mmm, someone's definitely having fun," I winked, pointing toward the muffled moans coming from the next room. 
Poor Rach didn’t know what to think. "Take it, you sissy slut!" Conner's voice boomed from the living room, followed by the sound of his hips slamming against Brandi's. "Fuck yourself on my cock, bitch!" he growled, his hands probably digging into Brandi's hips. God, he always knew how to fuck like a machine. Brandi sure was a lucky little whore right now! I could picture Conner spanking her little sissy's ass, leaving it red and sore.
"Conner's really giving it to her," I smiled like this was no big deal, pouring us both some wine. "He just loves to grab those sissy hips and force Brandi to take every inch of his, well...” I paused and cupped my hand over my mouth; “his really, really massive cock! And listen to her, sobbing like the little bitch she is." I smirked, taking a sip of my drink. 
Conner grew more demanding; "stop your fucking crying, slut! Take it like a good little sissy and thank Daddy!!" The sound of his hand connecting with Brandi's ass again echoed through the house. "That's it, scream for me, princess. Let Mommy hear how much you love getting fucked like the sissy you are!"
Rachel's eyes bulged as she listened. I led her to the living room so she could see for herself; our ex-boyfriend turned into my sissy plaything, getting plowed by my new man. I couldn't not laugh at the shock on Rachel’s face. Steering her by the shoulders, I guided her closer to the action.
"Rach, allow me to introduce you to Brandi!" I giggled, pointing toward the sobbing figure of Brandon, now just a whimpering mess. "Look at my little sissy, taking it like a cheap little whore. Isn't she adorable?"
Conner showed no signs of slowing down, driving his cock into Brandi's ass over and over. Rachel couldn’t find words, which made the whole thing even funnier for me. Poor thing. "Conner?! Brandon?! How—?" she stammered, her eyes darting between the two of them.
I placed my hand on her shoulder gently and led her back into the kitchen.  "Surprise!” I laughed, handing Rachael her wine. “I told you I changed Brandi into something much more fitting. She will never hurt another woman again. That’s what happens to cheaters."
"What the actual fuck, Heather? How did you even do all of this?" Rachel asked, downing all her wine in one go.  I explained to her how I caught Brandi cheating, about the videos of her sucking Conner's dick that I recorded, the photos of her dressed in diapers that I took, the nursery filled with dildos, and the cuckysitters I hired to keep an eye on her.
"Holy shit," Rachel finally said, shaking her head in disbelief. "A whole year?! He... or should I say, she, has been living like this for an entire year?"
Conner, who had just finished emptying another load into Brandi, joined us in the kitchen. "Mmmph," he grunted, wrapping his arms around my waist. "She's been mine for at least that long. That fucking loser has been living in diapers the whole time.”
I laughed, sharing the details of Brandi's miserable life. "And let's not forget, she has to call Conner 'Daddy.' I'd guess she sucks his dick at least five times a day, and that's on top of the cum-only diet she's on. Most of the time, she's swallowing loads from his used condoms after he fucks me!" I giggled. Rachael was stunned into silence, which isn’t easy for that girl! “Want to go meet her?” I asked excitedly. 
Shh, shh, cupcake," I cooed, walking into the room to find Brandi in the fetal position in the floor., I leaned down, gently stroking Brandi's hair as she lay there, a sobbing mess with her skirt still hiked up and cum leaking out of her poor, stretched asshole. Her shirt was nowhere to be seen, probably ripped off by Conner. He can be a really dominant Daddy when he needs to! 
"It's okay, Brandi-girl," I reassured her, channeling my inner Mommy. "I’m right here to make everything better... or worse, depending on my mood." I winked at Rachel, who was just staring at me shocked, and delivered a stinging slap to both of the crying sissy’s ass cheeks. “Wow,” I giggled, tracing the bright red handprints I’d left. "At least  both cheeks match!"
"Aww, what's wrong, Brandi? Did Daddy already make your bottom hurt? Well, too fucking bad, 'cause Mommy wants to have fun too!” I noticed Rachel's eyes widen when she spotted the massive plastic cock pacifier on the floor next to the shaking sissy. "That bad boy is only, like, half the size of Conner," I pointed out, raising my eyebrows and winking. "We gotta keep Brandi's sissy holes filled, but not too filled, right?" I paused, biting my lip. "Wouldn't want her to get too comfortable sucking Conner’s cock."
Rachel's hand shook as she held up the pacifier, her eyes wide with surprise. "It... goes in her mouth?" She asked, her voice laced with curiosity as she glanced between me and Brandi, who was a sobbing mess on the floor. I leaned in close to Rachel, whispering something that made her bite her lip nervously, but shrugged; “he was a cheating prick…”
Now she was into it! I knelt down next to Brandi, who was too exhausted from crying to put up much of a fight. I gently pinched her nose shut, watching as her eyes widened and her mouth opened slightly. "Are you sure?" Rachel questioned  as she leaned in closer, I simply nodded, holding my grip on Brandi’s nose. “He was texting you while he was dating me, huh?” She asked, clearly pissed up now.
"Here comes the airplaaaane!" Rachel attempted a baby voice, It was adorable how she was getting into this now. “Open up you cheating little sissy fuck!” Brandi, on the other hand, was having none of it. She thrashed and squirmed, her eyes wild with panic. I reached under her skirt and gave her sissy marbles a firm squeeze, causing her to yelp and open her mouth wider. “You deserve it you douche!” Racheal yelled, jamming the cock into the back of Brandi’s throat and slapping her across the face. “I can’t believe you!”
I gently pushed the pacifier into her mouth, the huge plastic cock stretching her lips. "Thatagirl Sissy! You know you love your paci! It’s nice to have something other than Daddy’s cock in your mouth, huh?" Brandi and I both looked over at Rachael, surprised when she laughed. Even she was giggling at the little shithead now! "There, isn't that better, princess?" I asked, giving Brandi’s cotton balls one more squeeze, smiling down at her sweetly,
Brandi whimpered, her eyes pleading with me to stop. Before I can say anything else, Rachel noticed the tiny pink chastity cage on Brandi's cock. “Is that his…her dick?” She asked, pointing. “That’s her sissy clitty,” I giggled, bouncing her chastity cage up and down in my hand. "This little cage," I said, holding it, "makes sure Brandi doesn't get naughty. She's locked up tight, no squirties allowed."
I traced my nail through the bars of the little plastic pink cage slowly, just to tease the little cucky as much as I could; “Brandi's little clitty key is my favorite accessory, and not just because it looks cute around my neck,” I laughed, holding up the key. “It's a constant reminder that I own her and her teeny-tiny sissy stick. One tug on this little plastic prison, and she squirms like the little worm she is.” I giggled as Brandi struggled against me, trying to fight off the stiffie I was giving her; “She can’t help herself. She doesn’t want to, but it feels so good, doesn’t it, little girl? She knows I decide when she's free, and that's if I feel like it at all! Isn't that right, my pretty princess?"
Yanking on Brandi’s pigtails, I smiled listeningto Brandi moaning and whining behind her gag. "Aww, does my widdle baby want something? Is it diapee time? I think you're right, my precious sissy. We can't have you leaking Daddy's cum everywhere, now can we? That would be such a mess!"
I turned to Rachel, casually asking, "You don't mind if we take a quick break to change her, do you? It'll only take a second. Conner, honey, could you come and lend a hand? I am always such a sweetheart to my little girl of course, but Brandi might need some extra persuasion."
Rachel's eyes widened, and she hesitated for a moment before replying, "Umm, no, of course not. I mean, it's a bit... weird, but I do kinda want to see it…a little bit.”
Conner strolled into the room, his arms folded across his hulky chest and he leaned against the wall, rolling his eyes. “Why can’t this freak ever just not be a fucking weirdo?” he grumbled. He enjoyed seeing Brandi humiliated, but didn’t love it when I involved him. Whatever, if he wanted to fuck me, he had to fuck the sissy too!
I made an excited face at Brandi and put on my best mommy voice;. "Okay, baby girl, let's get you all nice and pampered. No more leaks, okay? Mommy's here to take care of you." I pulled my sissy onto the couch. “Legs up girlie!” I cooed, pulling her legs high into the air.
As I reached for the diaper bag, Rachel surprised me by joining in on her ex-boyfriend’s humiliation, practicing her own baby talk!  "Aww, good girl! let's get that diapee on you!” She kneeled down next to me and winked, continuing to humiliate Brandi. “No more leakies for our little baby girl, okay? We'll have you snug as a bug in no time!"  But just as we were about to get started, Brandi decided to put up a pathetic struggle. She writhed and kicked, trying to break free from our grasp!
"Now, now, Brandi," I chided, "that's not very ladylike. Be a good girl and lie still. You know you can't escape!" I laid the pink Pamper underneath of my little sissy, but she almost kicked me in the head! “Hey!” I yelled, her squirming and kicking were getting a bit out of hand, so I decided to take charge. "Alright, that's enough, princess. Time to get that diapee on. Be a good girl for Mommy!."
I pinned her arms above her head, staring daggers at her. "Now, be a good girl and relax. This will all be over soon…if you’re a good girl" But Brandi wasn't having any of it. She bucked her hips, trying to throw me off again. "Oh, come on, Brandi, don't be difficult. You know you’re not going anywhere.” The sweet darling huffed and puffed behind her pacifier, shaking her head.
Rachel, joining in the fun now, tried to hold Brandi’s legs up with me; "yeah, Brandi, stop squirming! We're just trying to keep you diapered and cute. It's for your own good!"
Now Rachael was holding her legs up and I was trying to pin her down on the couch and she was still freaking out. But I wasn't about to let her win, hell no! I grabbed the diaper and held it open, teasingly tapping her nose with it. "Come on, Brandi, time to cooperate. Lift that cute little bottom for Mommy. Don't make me call Daddy Conner over here. You know you don't want that, right?"
To Be Continued...
Note from Heather: I hope everyone enjoyed meeting Rachael so far, she definitely returns in some of Brandi's other misadventures!
61 notes · View notes
sourbinnie · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
title -> she's all i wanna be genre -> pure angst (should not be a surprise by now) pair -> hyung line!skz x gn!reader plot -> getting replaced isn't fun (especially by someone who never gave you a chance to love them) lowercase intended | no warnings a/n: part 2 with maknae line? i'll see if i can make it different though :] lmk if you liked it!
stupid boy making me so sad
didn't think you could change this fast
"ah sorry (y/n), i have plans today with someone special."
at first it was fine and i could understand that he was busy or had plans with someone else. i didn't expect it to be her though and that's when jealousy started bubbling up in my chest. everyone loved her to the absolute fullest, how could you not? great dancer, incredible singer, lovely personality and an idol, she was full package (or an ace as they say). of course chan would fall head over heels for her, of course the plan was not just a plan, it was a date organized in secrecy so no photos would be caught and no scandals would be brought up. 
he looked at her with cartoonish eyes, full on heart mode. she was gorgeous, i could not deny it. i was just me, boring old me with nothing to show (at least that's what everyone led me to believe). as if i wasn't frustrated enough on their private social media they posted so many pics of them together and the last one being a kiss. he led me to believe at one point that when his contract would finish, we would be the ones having dates and kissing freely. but it looks like it was just a lie as if she fits that image more than i will ever do.
she's got everything that i don't have
how could i ever compete with that?
"she's so incredible like she can do anything."
yeah i know, i hear it every day minho. the choreography you guys pulled off went so well that you're now clouded with eyes only reserved for one person only. i expected this, i saw it coming from a mile away when she stepped into the jyp building and you just had an expression that i couldn't read 'cause that was love at first sight. you never looked in my direction that way but for her you would clearly do anything that she asked you to. i couldn't even get along with her before i found you guys making out after practice when we were supposed to go out.
i had to go home and cry into my pillow for hours as i tried to calm myself down but failed miserably at every attempt. it was almost like it was all a prank played on me since everyone knew about my crush on him and maybe that also meant he knew as well. god was i that awful? did i look that bad? i know i could not pull a dance move at all but did only that matter to be with him? maybe just wasn't meant to be like i thought he was. if this is a competition then i'm the loser 100%.
i know you'll go and change your mind
one day wake up and you're bored with mine
"i've been talking to her for hours, i could not get bored of her."
but you could get bored of me and pretend i wasn't there as i came to visit you but you were just on your phone. and this isn't even the first time that changbin has done something like this because when he falls, he falls hard. he could talk about her for hours and i would just have to put up with the weight of not being enough for him every single day. i would look at myself on my phone camera, my reflection in the mirror trying to figure out how i could improve myself for him (as if that wasn't pathetic enough).
i knew the day where he would ditch me would come. i just wasn't ready for how hard it would hit me, the reality of not being best friends anymore since he's now got someone who he can call that but also do so much more. i didn't want him to leave me hangin' but i became second choice as soon as she walked through the door. it was a punch in the face to see them hanging out in the distance when i was over at the dorms. seeing them kiss for the first time almost brought me to tears.
she's got everything that i don't have
and shе's all I wanna be, all i wanna be so bad.
"she's the love of my life and yes i'm sure."
i might have been there before but that didn't matter in hyunjin's eyes as he placed a kiss on her cheek. so many years together thinking that maybe i would have a chance with the one i used to call "the one". how incredibly delusional of me thinking that i would have a chance with hwang hyunjin when she was right there all along. her beauty was outstanding and her confidence showed with every move, every word, everything. but here i am being insecure about her, about him and about where i stood positioned.
i got up, leaving the place before i put myself through more hurt than i needed right now. it was so stupid of me to think that staying friends could be easy when i clearly couldn't do that. my eyes getting filled with tears as i just wished to be in his arms and take her place for a moment, for a second even if it was possible. i would just like the once feel the love of the one i wanted and his eyes reserved for me like i was meant to be the one he was looking at. but he said it, she's the love of his life right? no spot for me anymore.
321 notes · View notes
Note
could you write for lottie x reader where they're playing a game like monopoly or uno and it's getting really heated, so lottie kisses reader to distract them and secretly steals money/hides one of her cards and reader catches her?
Word Games
Plot: Lottie hated losing, and you chose the one game she couldn't win.
Warnings: Lottie being a dirty cheater at scrabble. (Anon I know you wanted Monopoly or Uno but I thought scrabble would be fun), pretending that scrabble doesn't only let players have 7 letters at a time.
Notes: a bit shorter than usual so bear that in mind <3
-----------------------------------------------------
"Lottie, you can't play 'byd' and say it means 'bid'. That's not how Scrabble works. You know that." You looked at the Scrabble board where little put down her so-called 'word'.
"That isn't fair. You literally played the word 'exclusionary' last turn. I'll never beat you. You're not even giving me the chance to." She pouted at you, her brown eyes wide. It almost made you let her play her 'word'.
Almost.
"That sounds like a you issue, babe. Simply get better. I don't make you bend the rules when we play your games."
"My games don't require this much brainpower."
"I'm sorry, since when does Monopoly not require tons of strategy? Or when you make me play chess? You're just mad because you suck at word games." You smirked at her.
She just glared back at you and tried to come up with a real word to play. She ended up with the word 'bed'.
"So you're telling me that you forgot 'bed' was a word? Wow Lot, you're kinda falling apart over there."
"Oh shut up, y/n. Y's have more points," she said, rolling her eyes.
"Mm. Keep telling yourself that, honey." While you were talking, you came up with your next word. You'd chosen 'stranger'.
As you put down your letters, Lottie groaned. You just grinned up at her.
"Sorry Lots. I know how much it sucks to be a loser."
"Y/n, I swear to God. Please. What the Hell."
"Awww, is Lottie sad because she sucks at Scrabble? Do you want a kiss to make it better?" You taunted.
"Yeah, I do." With that, she leaned across the table, and met your lips with hers. You were like that for a few seconds when you heard rustling.
"Lottie, are you taking different letters from the bag? Are you that desperate?" You gave her a slightly condescending look.
"What. I don't know what you're talking about. I would never."
"Lottie." You raised your eyebrow at her.
"Fine. Yes. Okay. Maybe I was. It's not my fault that you're unnaturally good at this game." She pouted again.
"That doesn't mean you have to cheat!"
She was still staring at you with those gigantic puppy eyes. Unable to resist this tome, you scooted next to her and rested your head in her lap. She brought her head down to yours and gave you another soft kiss on the lips.
"We don't have to play any more if you don't want."
"Oh, and just let you win by default? No thanks," she said, smiling down at you. "I might lose, but I'm going to lose with dignity."
"Whatever you say, Lottie. Just no more cheating," you responded, getting up from her lap.
"No promises."
57 notes · View notes
starkstruck27 · 3 months
Text
My second post for day 4 of @harringrove-flip-reverse-it !! I hope everyone enjoys!!
Prompt: Angst - Self-Sacrifice
Title: I Could Die For You
Word Count: 3764 words
TWs: None
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” Dustin yelled as he threw his controller down, the voice on the TV yelling out “Game!”
“Hey, quit throwing the controllers! You don’t need to be a sore loser, Henderson!” Billy chastised, shoving the boy playfully as he pouted. 
“Says the guy who won every round he’s played! I can be as sore as I want!” Dustin said back, pouting even harder as he slumped back on the couch. He truly was a sore loser, but he was right, Billy was really good at this game, and he could’ve held back on the gloating a little bit when he won a few rounds ago, even after El used her powers to hold his hands still for at least a solid minute. 
“Okay, okay, that’s fair, but seriously, dude, it’s just Smash Bros., it’s not that serious,” Billy said, handing the kid back his controller and pressing the button to get to the next round of character selection.
“Yeah, I mean, Steve’s gotten out first in every round, you don’t hear him complaining,” Mike interjected as he swapped places with Lucas. They were taking turns, shifting down the couch after every round so that it was a constant rotation of new players and they could all get a chance to play. After all, they were all excited, the game had only just come out a few days ago, and since Erica’s birthday had just passed, Steve bought a copy for everyone to play on his Wii. 
He’d gotten the system for them two Christmases ago, after all, so whenever a game released that they all wanted, he’d get it for them for a birthday or special event and they’d all break it in by playing it together. It was like tradition at this point, and while everybody typically sucked at first while they first figured out the controls and whatnot, they would all get better as they went and would bond while they shared secrets and tricks to make gameplay easier.
Everyone enjoyed playing, too, though Dustin was a chronic pouter, and sometimes El would cheat, and Steve was so horribly bad at video games that he would lose pretty much everything except Wii Sports Bowling, but aside from that, everyone loved playing together. It was like having their own personal arcade in Steve’s living room, and a catered one at that, since Steve would get tired of losing a few rounds in and would instead make lunch for everyone to keep himself occupied while they continued to play. Sometimes he looked a little sad when he did it, and if so, Billy would quit too, and follow Steve to the kitchen to cheer him up about his lack of gaming skills by any means necessary. It typically wasn’t too hard, Steve didn’t really take the games too seriously anyway, but still, Billy knew it still had to hurt. Especially when the kids would make fun of him relentlessly if and when they kicked his ass. 
“Hey, quit pickin’ on your babysitter. We’re all still just learning the ropes, and not everything comes easily to people who have better things to do than spend half their life in a sticky, smelly arcade,” Billy scolded Mike, who just rolled his eyes and flopped down on one of the other chairs in the room. 
“No, he’s right, I suck. Here, Will, you come play, I’ll just go and order a pizza for us, m’kay?” Steve said, trying to pass his controller off to Will, but Billy shook his head.
“Fuck that, he’s not right, and you don’t suck. C’mon, just finish your rotation, and if you really wanna quit, you can. You only have two more games left. Please?” Billy asked, making those eyes that he knew would get Steve on board immediately. It worked like a charm, and Steve sighed before settling back in on the couch and picking a new character. 
Billy, Lucas and Dustin also selected their characters, and once that was done, it went on to stage selection. They’d already unlocked most of them, and so far, they’d just been hitting the random selection button so that they’d be surprised at the beginning of every round, but this time, Billy didn’t press that button, and instead he turned to Steve.
“You pick the level. Maybe that’ll help improve your luck,” he said, ignoring the kids as they said that that wasn’t fair. 
“Um, I guess do the one with the weird ladybug thing on it,” Steve said, pointing to the bottom of the screen. 
“Distant Planet it is,” Billy said, pressing the button to start the game and smiling as everyone got ready. The deep voice of the game’s narrator came through, counting down from three until it finally let them start fighting, and then, it was every man for themself. Well, almost.
See, Billy knew he had to get Steve to win one of these games to get his confidence up, that way he’d want to keep playing and actually start to enjoy it, so he had a plan. He’d take the kids out first, go easy on Steve, and when it was just them left, he’d pretend he lost by accident so that Steve would win. They only had three lives each, and they kept items on, so final smash combos were still possible, but it wouldn’t be too hard for Billy to kick the kids’ asses and then let Steve win. 
The level was kind of a tough one, honestly, based off of the Pikmin games from the Game Cube, and not only could you just fall off the edge if you weren’t careful, but there was a ledge that would flood and create a waterfall you could get swept up in if it started raining, and the weird ladybug things that Steve had mentioned were Bulborbs, creatures from the Pikmin universe that would pretty much instantly kill you if you got trapped in it’s mouth. Still, Steve was pretty good at staying on the maps by himself and not falling off, as long as no one pushed him, so all Billy had to do was keep the kids away from him and it’d be a cakewalk to let him win. 
It actually went pretty well, at first. Lucas was playing as Link from the Legend of Zelda games, Dustin was Bowser from the Mario games, Billy was Mr. Game & Watch from one of the first Nintendo systems, and Steve was Kirby, obviously from the Kirby games. All of them were good character choices, but Billy knew his was the best for this round, since he had a lot of really good, complex moves that he could use to easily confuse and K.O. the other players. 
He went for Dustin first, knowing that he would be the less likely of the two to show Steve some mercy, and easily blew him off the screen within the first minute of play. As soon as he respawned, Billy went after him again, ignoring the kid’s complaints that he was targeting him specifically and kicking his ass right into the falling water, washing him off the screen again and taking his second life. He only had one left, so Billy switched gears and started to target Lucas, easily knocking him off the edge and leaving room for Steve to try and take the final smash power up. 
This was when the plan started to fall apart, because just as Steve was about to get the final smash, Dustin came out of nowhere and stole it from him, using it to K.O. all three of them. Billy shook it off, both he and Steve still had two lives left, Dustin and Lucas only had one each, so he still figured he could do it. Only problem was, while he was taking Dustin’s last life by hitting him with a power up, Lucas somehow managed to blow Steve off the map, leaving both of them with only one life and Billy with two. Still, Billy felt like he could do this. 
He fell off the edge to level the playing field a little, and then decided it was time to go after Lucas with everything he had. He pelted him with items, tried to take both of them off the map just by simply falling, and was using every tactic and skill he had to figure out how to get Steve to win. And finally, he saw an opportunity, as a Bulborb came up on the side of the screen, just behind Lucas. Steve was floating in the air, so Billy figured it was safe to rush at Lucas, easily knocking him into the Bulborb’s mouth, but the only problem was, just as he did, Steve fell down from the air, Kirby had been floating for too long, and had gotten pushed into the creature, too. It carried them both off the map, much to Billy’s horror, and the narrator’s voice once again called out, “Game!” 
“The winner is…” the voice continued, “Mr. Game & Watch!” as the characters reappeared on the screen, the other three clapping as Billy’s character did a little victory pose. 
“That was so unfair! You so cheated!” Dustin accused, but Billy didn’t pay him any mind. All he could see was the sadness in Steve’s eyes as he watched the screen, obviously upset at having made it so far only to die right at the last second. He had actually started enjoying the game as he got closer and closer to victory, and Billy had accidentally snatched it all away right at the buzzer. That must’ve absolutely crushed him.
“Nobody cheated, Dustin, that was just a hard stage,” Steve said, sighing as he stood and placed his controller on the coffee table. “It’s the end of your rotation anyway, you’ll do better the next time you’re in, but for now, you swap with Will. Oh, and Max, why don’t you take my last game, I gotta go pick up the pizzas anyway. I don’t really feel like playing anymore.”
“What, no! You said you’d stick it out until your last game!” Billy said, giving Max a look that told her not to go for the controller left on the table. It wasn’t her turn yet.
“Really, Bill, I don’t want to play anymore. I just need a break, that’s all. Maybe I’ll jump back in later, but I’m okay with just watching for now.”
“But that’s not the way we do it here! Everyone has to play to the end of their rotation, that’s the rules,” Billy said, standing and crossing his arms. He knew he was probably making this a bigger deal than it needed to be, but he wanted Steve to enjoy playing with them, otherwise he might stop altogether, even when new games came out. He had to get Steve to play and win this last round, but Steve was giving him a look like he was getting really annoyed, so Billy had to think of something, and quick. “You know what, you’re right. A break does sound pretty good right about now. How about this, Byers, Sinclair and I will go pick up the pizzas, and you and the rest of the kids stay here and get drinks and other snacks ready. Then maybe once we all eat and take a breather, we can finish playing, alright? Is that a good plan?”
Steve sighed, “I guess so. C’mon guys, turn off the TV and help me set the table.”
“Good,” Billy smiled, grabbing his keys and heading for the door. “Byers, Sinclair, you’re with me. Let’s get a move on, huh?”
Will and Lucas gave each other a kind of funny look, but both of them shrugged and got up to follow Billy to his car. They got in the back and waited as Billy pulled out of Steve’s driveway, and once Billy turned the music down, they started asking questions.
“So, why did you want us specifically to come help you with the pizza?” Lucas asked, crossing his arms and staring at Billy through the rearview mirror.
“Because I have a proposition for you,” Billy said, glancing back at the two every so often. “After lunch, when we start playing that game again, it’ll be us three and Steve. I want you two to throw the game so that Steve can win for once.”
“Why do you want us to let him win?” Will asked, blinking those big brown eyes in confusion.
“Because he sucks at that game, and he’s getting really frustrated with it. But he sucks at every other game too, so if we start letting him quit now, he might start quitting other games, and then he’ll just stop playing with us at all because he’ll feel like he can never beat us. We gotta let him win every once in a while so that he genuinely likes the games we’re playing and then he’ll keep playing with us,” Billy explained, pulling into the parking lot of the pizza place and turning around to face the kids before getting out. “So, here’s the plan. After lunch, I’ll talk him into finishing his rotation, and then we’ll play. We’ll all choose characters we suck as, and we’ll pick a stage with minimal hazards so that he doesn’t die accidentally. Then, we die as subtly as we can, come after each other and avoid Steve as much as we can, fall off edges, and let him get as many K.O.s as we can without making it suspicious. Then, when it’s all said and done, he’ll win and we get to keep him playing with us. Can we do that?”
“But that takes all the fun out of playing!” Lucas complained.
“C’mon man, think of how much fun it’ll be if Steve stops buying new games because he knows he’ll suck and so he doesn’t see the point in buying new games for us anymore!”
“I mean, I want to make Steve happy, but won’t it be, like, super obvious if we all just start to suck out of nowhere?” Will asked, and Billy groaned.
“It doesn’t matter! He won’t even notice, I promise you, he’ll just be happy he won!”
“But what if your idea doesn’t work and he stops playing anyway?” Lucas asked, and finally Billy had it.
“Look, that won’t happen, but if you guys won’t do it out of love for Steve, how about I give you each five bucks to throw the game?” Billy asked, taking out his wallet to show he was serious.
“Make it ten,” Lucas said, giving him a smug smirk as he held out his hand.
“You’ve been hanging out with Max too long, you little pirate,” Billy muttered under his breath, but he took two tens out of his wallet and gave one to each of the boys. That seemed to seal the deal, and once they got the pizzas home and everyone had eaten, he and both boys went to Steve and practically begged him to finish out his turn. Now that he’d eaten and had some time to breathe, Steve joined back in, and Billy was so excited he practically skipped over to the TV to turn it back on. He also fiddled with the settings quickly before anyone could see and set it so that only easy levels would be selected when he chose the random button, and he quickly set the screen back to normal before anyone else got into the room.
“You guys ready?” He asked when everyone had chosen a character, and everyone had said yes, so he continued on to stage selection. He chose random, and the stage selector put them in the Green Hill Zone stage from the Sonic the Hedgehog games. Billy was perfectly happy with this, as there weren’t many ways to fall off of edges, and it didn’t move, so it was free of most distractions. This was gonna be easy.
The narration voice counted down from three again as their characters showed up on the screen, and then, it was on. Billy was playing as R.O.B., an old accessory turned character from the NES system, Lucas was Pikachu from the Pokemon series, Will was the Ice Climbers from the NES game of the same name, and Steve had chosen another Kirby character, this time going with Meta Knight. It was quite the accumulation of characters, but it was half the fun of this game to see these random characters thrown together into a whole new game. 
And just like that, they were under way. It was actually surprisingly easy for the three of them to avoid hitting Steve and still make it convincing that they were trying, maybe because they chose characters they hated, but mostly because they were trying. Lucas managed to K.O. Billy after a few minutes by hitting him with an item, and Will, who was not great at keeping away from edges, fell through the ground when part of it disappeared. Steve got a K.O. of Will too after one too many hits, which sent him flying off the screen. Now that they had each lost one of their lives, Lucas went after Steve to make it look convincing, and though he managed to get close, he stopped just before he took one of his lives, and instead turned on Billy, who’d been attacking him as he attacked Steve. 
The land regenerated as Will respawned, and he and Lucas went for Billy, managing to get another K.O. after on him after pushing him into a checkpoint, which then threw him off screen. Steve also managed to get a K.O. on Lucas after diving at him and both of them ending up going too far off screen, leaving everyone with only one life except Steve, who now had two. To make it look good, after Will was K.O.’d by Lucas again, Billy went after Steve, getting one more of his lives before managing to take Lucas’s last one, and then it was just them, left with one life each. 
The end was surprisingly easy to fake, as Steve was safe on one side of the stage and Billy on the other, the ground giving out between them as they charged at each other, and after jumping over the pit to Billy’s side, Steve managed to push him into the pit. Now, normally it’s not too hard to get out of a pit in Super Smash Bros., but anyone who’s ever played as R.O.B. will tell you, he is not the easiest character to control, and seeing as how that’s the case, Billy was able to make a big show of trying to get out of the hole, smashing buttons with all his might as he tried to jump out.
“Fuck fuck fuck, shit, no! Goddammit!” He pretended to get upset, groaning and tossing his arms up in frustration as he finally fell into the pit, losing his last life and ending the round as the narrator called out “Game!”
“The winner is…” it kept going, “Meta Knight!”
“Yes!!” Steve jumped up, throwing his arms up in victory and basking in the cheers and claps of the other kids. “Did you guys see that?! I got so many K.O.’s! I can’t believe it! I won!”
“Yeah!”
“Go Steve!”
“You finally won!”
The kids kept cheering as Steve did a little victory dance, and Lucas, Will and Billy had to turn away to hide their smiles and try to keep up the charade of being upset at losing. Still, they couldn’t help it, and finally, they stopped pouting and just celebrated with him. 
“Okay, okay, that’s enough, the neighbors will start complaining about all the noise if we don’t quiet down,” Steve said after a while, setting his controller down on the coffee table and letting Max take his spot on the couch. Billy followed suit, even though he technically still had one game left, but he wasn’t a chronic quitter, so he could break the rules this one time and hand his controller off to Erica after fixing the stage settings. After that, he followed Steve into the kitchen, not saying a word as he started helping him clean up from lunch, putting the leftovers into the fridge and piling dishes in the sink.
“Whatever happened to ‘you have to finish your rotation, no exceptions’, huh?” Steve asked as he took up the spot next to Billy at the sink, grabbing a towel to dry as Billy washed.
“Eh, my hands started cramping after trying to get out of that pit, plus I don’t quit often, it’s only this one time,” Billy said, nudging Steve with his shoulder.
“Yeah, yeah,” Steve rolled his eyes. They worked in relative silence for a while, the only sounds being the running water and the kids making noise in the other room, but for the most part they were quiet until Steve turned to look at Billy, a knowing look on his face.
“You threw the game, didn’t you?” He asked, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes with a playful smirk.
“I did not!” Billy denied, but Steve raised his eyebrow, and Billy just couldn’t lie to that face. “Okay, maybe I did, but I just wanted you to win for once so that you wouldn’t stop playing with us, is that so terrible?”
“I knew it!” Steve said, smacking Billy lightly with the dish towel. “But you know I’d still play with you guys even if I lost every time, right?” 
“Yeah, but you’d get tired of losing eventually and I just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t quit for good,” Billy said, flicking some bubbles at Steve in retaliation. 
“I wouldn’t do that. Losing is annoying, but as long as the kids are having fun-”
“But you need to have fun, too! That’s the point of multiplayer games, that everybody has fun, it’s not fair if only some people have fun and not everybody else,” Billy said, then sighed, “Look, just promise me that you won’t quit before you find another game that you’re really good at, okay?”
“Hey, I’ve got my Wii Sports, I’m good to go,” Steve smiled, brushing some of Billy’s hair out of his face before going in for a kiss. He readily accepted it, and smiled right along with him as they heard Erica starting to gloat about kicking everyone’s ass from out in the living room. 
21 notes · View notes
spookymystery67 · 7 months
Text
I Wish I Could Walk In Heels
Tumblr media
AN: Wow, I missed posting last week. I'm a loser. Sorry. Truthfully I was not fully in it last week, or this week for that matter. But I wanted something posted and it's freaking confession time so I persevered and did it! Whoo! This chapter is a tad bit shorter and I have never, ever written a scene like this before so it was an experience. Hopefully my reading experience didn't make it suck as bad. I'm trying. I really am lmao. Enjoy!
Chapter 18:
The next morning, you said your goodbyes to Jill as she had to leave to finish her mission while you had to make your way back to the hotel you and Ada were sharing. You were sad to leave your friend once again, and you could only hope that life will be kinder to her. Maybe you will run into each other again at some point in the future.
Maybe once Umbrella was gone for good.
You were nervous to walk through the door of the room you shared with Ada. You wanted to tell her how you felt, but your doubt and insecurities were going to make it ten times harder to do.
You took a deep breath and tried to ignore the negative thoughts, before doing the secret knock you and Ada came up with early on, as she has the only key to the room.
You listened for movement from inside as the door abruptly opened and Ada stood in front of you with a deadpan look on her face.
“Y/n. How was your little sleepover?” She asked, tone nonchalant as she walked away, back facing you. You could tell from the way her shoulders have tensed that she was bothered by something.
“Uh, it was good. It was nice catching up with her after so long.” You said as you walked into the room, keeping your eyes on her as you shut and re-locked the door behind you.
Ada huffed as she sorted and packed her things in her duffle bag. “I'm glad you had fun. Start packing your things. We're heading out soon.” She aggressively shoved a dress into her bag.
You hesitated. “Are- are you okay?” 
“Fine.” Ada dismissed.
You hummed, watching her as she was still turned away from you. “You know, we talked about you last night.”
“Did you now?” Ada drawled, uninterested in whatever you and Jill talked about.
You took a slow, hesitant step forward. “Yeah. She brought something to my attention. Something about you.”
Ada paused before slowly turning to face you, arms crossed, hip jutted to her right. “What about me?” She asked, ready to defend herself as she assumed the worst.
You took a deep breath and another hesitant step forward. “She told me you were jealous.”
She raised a brow. “Jealous?”
“Mhmm. Jealous.”
“Jealous of what?”
“Of her. Jealous of the way we interacted with each other.”
She huffed and rolled her eyes. “Right.”
You walked closer to her, now only a few feet apart. “You shouldn't be jealous of her. She's only a friend.” You said before she could speak.
“I'm your friend.” She snapped, arms still crossed as her frustration rose.
You can't help but smile, her feelings for you becoming more clear now that Jill had helped you open your eyes. “You are. And you know I can have more than one friend, right?”
Ada scoffed with an eye roll. “Uh huh.”
You decide to just tell her right now before she becomes more upset. “But… maybe me and you can be something more than just friends.”
Ada's face fell in shock, completely taken aback from the sudden turn in the conversation. “Y-you… I'm sorry. What?” 
Huh, she stuttered. It wasn’t often that you got Ada Wong to stutter.
You take a deep breath. “Look. I've never done this before so there is a good chance that I might embarass myself by saying this but, I like you, Ada. I really like you. And I think I have for a while now. I have always admired you. Even when we first met. The entire time we were in Raccoon City together I was trying to convince myself that I hated you, but I didn't. I don’t. I've always found it very hard to hate you.” You paused, looking down and away from Ada who just stared at you with a look you couldn't quite decipher. You quickly lost what courage you had started with when you couldn’t figure out what she was thinking. “But, um, if you don't feel the same way as I do then that's fine. Just figured I should let you… know.” You finished awkwardly.
From the corner of your eye you saw Ada take a slow step forward, as if she was afraid she would frighten you, before taking another more confident step. Then another, and another.
Once she was close enough, she reached her right hand down to take your chin in a gentle grasp with her pointer finger and thumb, carefully moving your head up to make eye contact with her.
She gave you a moment to allow you to pull away from her if you so choose, before her straight, unreadable, face broke into a warm, gentle smile that she has only ever shown to you.
“Can I kiss you, Y/n?” She asked, her warm smile and gentle grasp on your face still there as she patiently waited for your response.
You were dumbfounded, completely caught off guard, having not at all expected this outcome. Fully expecting to be denied. Not embraced.
Your cheeks flushed as you worked through the brain fuzz her touch caused, quickly nodding your consent. “Yes.”
Her smile widened before she slowly closed the space between the two of you. Her warm, glossed lips, connected with yours almost hesitantly in a slow, but affectionate kiss. Giving you time to get used to it. Used to her. She kept you in a weak hold in case you decided to pull away.
You responded to the hesitation by moving your arms around her to hug her waist, bringing her closer to you in encouragement. Wanting to show her you truly meant every word of your confession. 
You wanted to be more. You wanted to be with her.
She responded to the encouragement with eager, yet gentle, enthusiasm. The hand on your chin moved to be placed on the back of your head as her other hand came up to cup your cheek in her palm, urging you to be closer to her.
The kiss was pure bliss and felt like it lasted for hours, but in actuality it only lasted a few short minutes before you had to pull away. You both gasped for the air that you neglected during the moment you had both waited years for and thought would never happen. Ada looked at you with pure joy and admiration in her eyes that you returned, before she pulled you forward once more for a quick peck on the lips.
“So, that's what you and Jill talked about? Us?” Ada asked after a few moments, your face still held in her hands.
You nodded. “She helped me realize that you might feel the same way I do.”
Ada hummed as she leaned forward, resting her forehead against yours. “I might have to thank her whenever I see her again. She was right. I do like you. In fact, I might even go as far as to say that I love you, Y/n.”
You smiled wide as you laughed, face flushed with pure joy as you pulled your head back slightly to face her properly. “You just had to one up my confession, didn't you.” You teased her.
Ada shrugged with a grin. “I mean, you get full points for admitting it first and getting the ball rolling. But I didn't think you would admit your full feelings for me if I didn't do it first.”
Leave it to Ada to notice that you avoided the L-word for the word like. She was right. You didn't say it first because you didn't want to scare her off for good.
“You're right.” You admitted.
“As usual.” Ada teased, still hugging you close.
“Shut up and let me confess.” You playfully shoved her shoulder, before taking another breath. “I love you too, Ada.”
Her teasing smile softened as she pulled you in for another slow kiss, before pulling away and placing a short peck to your head.
“I’m glad you admitted it first. I had convinced myself you didn’t feel the same way and that it would never happen. Was just going to continue living in the friend zone for the rest of my life.” Ada said as you two separated, her dragging you to sit beside her on the edge of the bed.
“Funny. I was the same way. When Jill first brought it to my attention, I didn’t believe her.” You said as you grabbed her hand in yours.
Ada seemed surprised by your statement. “Why not? You’re smart, hilarious, and kind. Not to mention gorgeous. But I see you for more than just your looks. You’re the first person I’ve met in a while to accept me for me. You don’t try to change every part of who I am. You understand that not everything in this life is simply just black and white. You actually take the time to understand my thoughts and opinions in situations where we disagree.”
“You do the same. Like what happened with the files and Jill.” You pointed out.
She nodded, squeezing your hand. “The point is, you taking the time to have those conversations just proves that you care. That I’m not just a pretty face to you. That I actually mean something to someone. Something to you. It’s been a long time since I’ve had that. So, I love you, Y/n. I mean it.”
You nearly wanted to tear up from her words. The honesty and vulnerability she was showing you right now was something you never thought either of you would have with one another. The fact that she was comfortable enough with you to tell you this made your heart hurt in the best way. 
Instead of crying, you smiled, pulling her into an embrace that made you want to hold on tight and never let go. Ada immediately returned your embrace and held you with the same amount of strength that you held her in. Usually you could only stand hugs with people for a short amount of time. But with her, you would happily stay in her arms forever if she wanted you to. 
“And I love you, Ada.”
47 notes · View notes
ladygwyndolin · 5 months
Note
You're clearly a great fan of Murcielago's villain protagonists, but what are your opinions on the antagonists?
well you can't send me an ask like this an expect me not to rate each of them individually, but i assume you knew this. crafty, glasses! I'm gonna rate the primaries here but I'll rate the secondaries next. Only up to Silver Scent.
Arc 0: Unnamed Serial Killer
Tumblr media
Cringe loser, no swag, no style, unmemorable, no standards. Died in an accident. 0/5.
Arc 1: Tasuku Iimura
Tumblr media
Just kind of a big brute, somewhat sad backstory but doesn't really bring anything to the table. This arc isn't really about him though. 1/5.
Arc 2: Hyoue Satori
Tumblr media
Total patsy. Basically irrelevant as his only real contribution was bankrolling a cooler, sexier villain. 1/5.
Arc 3: Takeru Asagi
Tumblr media
We're starting to get somewhere. He's still fairly meh, but his MO and backstory are way more interesting than the previous villains and his genuine care for his daughter gives him a bit of heart. OFC, he pales in comparison to how amazing a character said daughter is, but I'll give him a point for trying. 2/5.
Arc 4: Gold Marie
Tumblr media
LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOO!!!!!! I LOVE GOLD MARIE. Absolutely horrible and irredeemable monster, twisted in fun and unique ways, tragic backstory, gay, disgusting, and, well. Y'know. She's got. uh. well. Anyway, one of the best in the series, no question. 5/5.
Arc 5: The Rainy Day Killer
Tumblr media
Hands down the most terrifying villain in the entire series and it's not even close. I get the creeps just looking at him. It takes a lot to be a monster in a world as monstrous as Murcielago's, but boy oh boy does he do it. Great backstory, too. Gonna give him a 4/5 just because of how SCARY he is.
Arc 6: Marie Misaka
Tumblr media
Meh. This arc is more about Kuroko herself being the villain rather than this chick, so she barely gets any screentime and doesn't have much to offer. 2/5 cuz there's some implied gay shit at least.
Arc 7: Toukichirou Higaki
Tumblr media
Mostly a vehicle for more interesting side characters. His fighting style is cool, but his ultimate goal of dying in battle doesn't have any real weight to it. Pretty forgettable. 2/5.
Arc 8: Shin Tatewaki
Tumblr media
Boring villain from a boring arc. 1/5 cuz i think his scar looks cool.
Arc 9: Cobalt Conrad
Tumblr media
A very solid mad scientist archetype. I think his relatively friendly and calm demeanor persisting throughout both arcs he's in is great and I like that he came back as a villain in the first place. His ultimately plan is pretty simple and I feel like more could be done with him, but given that we haven't seen the last of him I think there's a chance we'll get new stuff from him too. 4/5.
Arc 10: Kurono
Tumblr media
YEAH BABY YEAH BABY LET'S GO!!!!!!!!! I LOVE KURONO!!!! Cool split personality ghost with probably the best fight in the entire series (due to the fact that Kuroko is hilarious throughout it) and sympathetic motivation make her extremely memorable. A lot of people rank Master Swordsman as their favorite arc, and while it's not my personal pick, scenes with Kurono make me understand exactly why so many people love it. 5/5.
Arc 11: Rose Marie
Tumblr media
Best boy with one of the best arcs. I looooove TTDUP and how fucked up it is, and this weird conjoined cannibal queen is what makes it work. The second most unsettling villain after the rainy day killer as well. Easy 6/5, I would love if we got more villains like him in the future.
Arc 12: Comedy Writer
Tumblr media
Easily the least threatening major villain and thus one of the least interesting. This is another arc where Kuroko eclipses the actual antagonist by a significant margin, so his only real noteworthy moment is when Kuroko kills the shit out of him. 1/5.
Arc 13: Hazuki Sendou
Tumblr media
Gross. Loser. Doesn't deserve Zenpachi. Keep that in your pants, loser. 1/5.
Arc 14: Yuusuke Arima
Tumblr media
A deeply tragic and sympathetic villain, and one who we get to know as a person far more than most other villains. Serial killer or not, I just felt really fucking bad for this guy. Not huge on his sudden double evil turn at the very end so I've gotta dock him a point for that, but I'm overall a fan. 3/5.
Arc 15: Mineko and Ayako
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Honestly it was tough for me to decide which one of these two was the "main" villain so I ultimately decided to just go with both of them because hey, it's my list. My verdict is that they did literally nothing wrong and should not be held accountable for any crimes whatsoever. 5/5.
Hopefully that answers your question!
11 notes · View notes
teamrocketmemes · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
[ TOTAL DRAMA WORLD TOUR SONGS ] — PART 2
A lyric starter call from the songs heard in the third season of Total Drama. Feel free to change pronouns when necessary to fit your needs.
Changing Guard Mix
“It's creepy how they stand there, and don't even blink!”
“I don't wanna see his bum, all naked and pink!”
“Can we bribe you to strip yourself down?”
“And I’m allergic to uniforms.”
“Cause if we don't, we're hosed!”
Greek Mix
“I know what you're thinking, I'm thinking it too!”
“I don't know what happened, but I have no regrets.”
“But that locked door couldn't secure our privacy.”
“I can't make out the lyrics, speak up!”
“The pain, the pain! Too much to explain!”
Boyfriend Kisser
“I thought she was my friend, but now it's time to diss her!”
“Sure we had some fun times, but I'm not gonna miss her now!”
“You're not my new sister!”
“Boyfriend kisser!”
“You're gonna get what's coming to you!”
Shear the Sheep
“It's the only way we'll fly first, peeps.”
“Try to lose this and your face I'll maim!”
“Shear the sheep, then, with a smile.”
“You had your chance and you turned him down.”
“And I'll be here, until the bitter end!”
We Built Gwen’s Face
“We've got to build something to sail.”
“As long as it stays afloat!”
“Oh, why did we build [Name]'s face?”
“Just hammering in the final nail!”
“Soon we'll be back in first class!”
Her Real Name Isn’t Blaineley
“Here's an open letter to a treasure of a girl!”
“Without the help of her entourage, her job would be toast!”
“So when she wears the bigger ones, you'll ask if she's lost weight!”
“She's a phony, scheming, weasel-nose!”
“And her real name isn't [Name]!”
Blainerific
“This is so against the rules.”
“Rules? This ain't no Sunday School!”
“Get me a half fat, no foam latte steamed to a hundred-two, heat!”
“WHAT?! Who am I? Who am I?! Who are you?”
“She's not so famous, turns out she's not so famous!”
A Chinese Lesson
“Is it roasted eel?”
“It's still moving its feet!”
“I think I'm nearly done for.”
“We'd rather eat our shirts!”
“[Name]'s in first class with me.”
Wake Up
“Well, it's a beautiful day on the Serengeti.”
“Going alone just makes you look sad and pathetic.”
“I could see the zits right on his face.”
“"Almost" gets you nowhere around here.”
“"Loser" is what the lion called you, when you couldn't find your balls.”
Condor
“I've come here to bring back your wee ones…”
“I've got problems with condors…”
“I'm a mom now, so don't be giving me flak!”
“So, hush, my sweet!”
“And I wanna live to see my thirties.”
This Is How We Will End It
“Now, I'm going to leave you… Wedged up in a hole.”
“Help me out, and I'll be your human drill-rig.”
“Ain't a tea party… It's combat!”
“This is how we will end it.”
“If I'm goin' down, make a fair fight!”
“But there's a bill to be paid!”
Who You Gonna Root For?
“There's Heather, she's an ice queen.”
“Too bad, everybody hates her.”
“Who you gonna root for? Who's it gonna be?”
“The only one winning this is [N-A-M-E]!”
“Kickin' it Hawaiian style, gonna take home the cheddar!”
I’m Winning This
“Rockin' it Hawaii style!”
“One last chance to prove my might.”
“Why else would I volunteer, for something death-defyin'?”
“Go show them you're a winner!”
“Sorry, [Name], don't sue!”
I’m Gonna Make It
“You and I weren't meant to last.”
“Mr. Fair now, suddenly.”
“You can't stop me now, just you try.”
“Let's face it, I'm no TV star.”
“You are the worst, why must you torment me?”
“It's all a game to you, but not to me.”
Versus
“Find me some giant feet!”
“Grab logs to match his frame, all overbuilt and lame!”
“Now it's evil versus wicked.”
“She'll put [Nickname] here through the shredder!”
“Her butt is scrawny and flat, and she ain't all that!”
“Pineapple-head me now!”
9 notes · View notes
nijigasakilove · 3 months
Text
Date a Live V what a ride you were. The best this franchise has ever been and I’m so sad it’s over, but that was a beautiful finale that was narratively and thematically satisfying. Tears were shed at the end. Mio, you can finally be with your beloved ❤️
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Congrats to everyone who came together to make this season happen. Could feel the love and passion that the studio and staff put into this. Was skeptical about wrapping everything up in one episode, but this had it all!
Starting off in Mio’s pocket dimension, the idea of Shido and Shin going Rizz for Rizz for Mio had me laughing so hard lmao. I was happy Shin actually told her he wanted her to move on and be happy and see new things. As I been saying after the last few eps, no way he’d want her continuing on this path, and having that verbalised had to feel like a tremendous weight off her shoulders.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Of course here come this loser Westcott ruining a great moment with yet another diabolical magic experiment gone wrong. At least that gave us a chance to see all the girls fighting together for the first time this season, even Nia back in the fight! Wish it wasn’t all cgi but oh well.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Mio’s sacrifice broke me man, but at the same time it’s thematically consistent. Mio started the episode by saying “Perhaps I truly did want to die this whole time” it’s no way she could ever let go of shin, so it’s fitting she saves Shido’s world and gets her reunion with her first love finally.
Tumblr media
“You finally got to see Shin” 😭not a dry eye in the show or watching. Just beautiful, man.
That ending looked conclusive, but there’s still more to the story so I’m not sure. Honestly feels so good I almost want it left there because I’m not sure if the actual ending will be as good lol. Date a Live is kind of the last of a dying breed of that early 2000s/2010s urban fantasy genre. Strike the blood, Mahouka, Toaru, etc. :/ fun ride tho
Tumblr media Tumblr media
review
Edit: oh yea, they tried pulling that Westcott sympathy shit at the end. Nah fuck him lmao
5 notes · View notes
divine-swag-summit · 1 year
Text
Round 1 Summary
Round 1 is over, folks! Thanks so much for voting!
I'm not gonna lie, this tournament has been kind of a hassle to set up, but seeing your propaganda and your comments in the tags have made it so worth it! Seriously, y'all are hilarious.
I won't be listing the results of every matchup here, you can look at the round masterposts for that, but I will highlight some of the more notable matches.
Closest Matches
Behemo Barisol vs Crimson: 50/50 Somehow, we ended up having a perfect tie on Round 1-A of the Higher Bracket! That's only the first day of voting! Isn't that amazing? Behemo and Crimson will both move on to round 2 and will go against The Forest Spirit in a three-way poll!
The Smiling God vs Saiki Kusuo: 49.1/50.9 With just a .8% difference, Saiki K. managed to pull through! And on the Night Vale website no less! Great job Saiki! Your friends are probably very proud, though you probably don't enjoy all this attention,,,, sorry!
Mare Incubus vs Mianite: 50.4/49.6 Would ya look at that, Mare Incubus made it to round 2! I honestly didn't think he would get this far, considering the fact that he's the protagonist of a Norwegian book series that had never been translated to English. All that propaganda certainly paid off! Great job, Mare!
Jake English vs Mythra: 49.5/50.5 I honestly didn't think this match would be so close! I'm not sure who I thought the favorite would be, but I certainly didn't think they would almost tie! Sorry Jake, looks like your Hope powers weren't strong enough to get you the win. You still have a long way to go on your journey, young Page. As for Mythra, well, I don't know much about Xenoblade, so here's what my friend has to say about her win: "I see mythra won and therefore everyone is correct"
Biggest Sweeps
The Great God Om vs Feena: 86.8/13.2 I'm so sorry for this matchup, Feena. I genuinely underestimated how popular Discworld was! Feena will have another chance at victory in the losers bracket. Maybe this time, she'll have a fair shot at victory.
Rosalina vs Scaramouche: 81.1/18.9 As a Genshin fan, I think it's very funny that Scaramouche lost this hard. I'm glad we can all agree that he's truly a small, sad little wet noodle. Also, fun fact, I beat his boss fight first try. Get rekt you pathetic little man.
Shade Lord vs Ozpin: 80.8/19.2 Ya know what, I get it. Shade Lord does look pretty cool. Perhaps this was an unfair matchup. To be honest, I kind of thought RWBY's popularity would make this unfair for Shade Lord.
Dianite vs Alecto: 18.6/81.4 Yeah, I should've seen this coming. Once again, I didn't know how popular The Locked Tomb was when I made the bracket! I'm so sorry Dianite, but you still have a second chance in the losers bracket!
Anoia vs Xanu: 80.3/19.7 RIP Xanu, I'm not caught up on Fool's Gold so I don't know what your deal is, but you will be missed.
Four vs Alter: 18.8/81.2 I just wanna say, every single picture of Four I found was absolutely hilarious. I've never seen Battle for Dream Island, but I can tell that Four would probably be my favorite character if I did. Well, see you in the losers bracket, Four!
The Prophet's Personal Highlights
Bill Cipher vs Madoka Kaname: 35.8/64.2 Honestly, it was so funny to see everyone rooting for Madoka to beat Bill's ass in the tags. In other, unrelated news, Bill Cipher was found dead in Miami. Oops, I wonder who could've done that!
The Glow Cloud vs Q: 70.4/29.6 I honestly thought this would be closer, considering how popular Star Trek is. This matchup definitely surprised me. Also, my mom was very upset about Q's loss. She's very disappointed in you all.
Venti/Lord Barbatos vs Void Termina: 32.9/67.1 Alas, my poor blorbo! As poll runner, there was nothing I could do to sway opinions in Venti's favor, for I must remain impartial! It hurts to see my favorite silly little guy lose, but at least we still have the losers bracket.
The Harvest Goddess vs Hanyuu Furude: 51.2/48.8 Yet another blorbo, gone too soon! Hanyuu, you're the best in my heart. Unfortunately, this match was too close to allow Hanyuu to qualify for the losers bracket, so this was her only chance. Hanyuu, you will be missed.
Starclan vs Featherine Augustus Aurora: 67.4/32.6 I've never played Umineko, but I have some friends who have, and, well. We all voted for Starclan. To think, Starclan is so powerful that even Umineko fans voted against Featherine. Ah, well. She still has another shot with the losers bracket.
And that's it for the round recap!
So, what now? Well, on Thursday I will start the Losers Bracket! Tomorrow I'll release the bracket so you can get your propaganda ready.
11 notes · View notes
torotornottorot · 9 months
Text
Books read in 2023:
The secret life of bees (Jan 6) 4/5 (probably would have enjoyed it more when I was younger. Great overall but still the mammy stereotype. Don’t like it when poc women are portrayed as ~divine creatures~ we are just normal people and we just wanted to treated like normal people. Nothing more, nothing less. Too flowery and cliche at parts but still good overall.) 
I’m glad my mom died (Jan 15) 5/5 (funny and thrilling. Reading this would probably help a lot of people with toxic parents think through their own trauma) 
Evil Under the Sun (Jan 17) 4/5 (simple and entertaining. Not a masterwork of literature but satisfying nonetheless. A bit slow to get started but great overall) 
The hunting party (Feb 4) 4/5 (found hard to get into it/get invested because of unlikeable cast of characters but stil high rating for unexpected ending. I was bored a few times in the beginning and middle parts but it really picked up in the end and made up for it. Would make a great movie) 
Sparkling cyanide (audiobook) (Feb 20) 3/5 (good to listen to while doing other work around the house. Probably not worth it to take separate time out to read) 
Last bus to Woodstock (Feb 24) 3/5 (hated the main detective and how he went about the investigation eg. relying on instinct and chance discoveries. But the side characters were super interesting and the ending was unexpected. Would have liked it better if inspector Lewis was the main character. No decent female characters. Only wh*res or the "shrill wife." But the crime itself was interesting and I liked the writing style). 
And then there were none (audiobook) (Feb 26) 5/5 (Omg. I was in thrall throughout. My favorite Agatha Christie book I’ve read so far. I actually thought there had to be a supernatural explanation lol) 
The dark remains (feb 26) 3/5 (not bad. Just boring. Can tell it was written by a dude. Not one interesting character despite being set in the gang world. Very cliche type of noir) 
The Falls (Ian Rankin) (March 1) 4/5 (great buildup but disappointing payoff. Loved the concept of the quizmaster. Very likable the main detectives and very interesting plot. Sustains you throughout despite being so long. But yeah. Didn’t quite like the solution to the murder) 
Wire in the blood (March 22) 5/5 (excellent. Gory but excellent. What a plot!) 
The distant echo (March 30) 5/5 (omg. If someone asks me what’s your favorite crime fiction book I’d say this one! Very suspenseful and unpredictable loved it loved it loved it!!!!) 
The Guest List (April 13) 6/5 (this surpasses the distant echo. This actually made me feel things. The amount of gasps I gusped could have powered the state of Texas for a year. Absolutely loved it. ) 
East of Eden (May 15) 100/5 (what kind of genius do you have to be to write such a book?  
In Cold Blood 4/5 (May 30) maybe bc I already knew the story, I kinda had to force myself to finish this 
Macbeth 5/5 (June 14) iconic 
Northanger Abby by Val Mcdermid 4/5 (June 17) fun modern retelling. Expected a crime and twist but it was faithful to the original. Enjoyed reading. 
Gone girl 6/5 (June 24) omg her mind. Will definitely read more by her. Wish I hadn’t seen the movie before so I could have been fully surprised. Liked the ending. 
The Pearl (5/5) (July 3) not a page turner but a good depiction of reality. Very sad. 
Age of Vice 3/5 (July 7) great beginning but I didn’t like the ending. I think the author tried to put too many stories and perspectives in one. That whole bit of Sunil was unnecessary? It just slowed the story down at such a crusial moment. And Sunny’s backstory with Vicky too. I don’t think it was necessary to have an unbelievably tragic backstory for every character and he already had his deal with his dad. Some things are never clarified like what happened to his mom, his true relationship with Vicky. Why Ajay agreed. Ajay turns out of be such a loser in the end. Maybe it’s “realistic” but lots of things that happen in this book are not realistic so I don’t know why only the ending has to be realistic. I wish I could have followed Ajay’s journey to a good ending. 
Milk fed 2/5 (August 12) only read bc of booktok. Good seeds here and there. didn't realy like it.
The club (5/5) (august 19) excellent, gripping. A bit longer than it needed to be though. 
The grownup Gillian Flynn (4/5) (October 19) great short story. Great writing. So engaging. Perfect length for getting back into reading 
Emma by charlotte Brontë and another lady (5/5) (Nov 2) love. Mr. Ellin needs to be played by Simon Baker in a movie. 
A room of one’s own by Virginia Woolf (Nov 11) (1000/5). This has been on my to read list for ages. I see quotes from this everywhere and every time I’m astounded by how she just she gets it and knows exactly what to say to express it perfectly. The essay was everything I imagined it would be. Forever grateful to that Destiel fanfic for introducing me to this. 
Villette (4/5) (Dec 29) lovely 
Girl, interrupted (5/5) (Dec 31) made me ponder about a lot of things. Her youth was really kind of stolen from her. Made to freeze just like that painting. what is the right thing to do? What is helping and what is hurting? What does “crazy” even mean? I think I tend to be very judgemental about this kind of stuff. But this book made me realize that people are people even if you do not understand why they act a certain way. They feel the same as me. 
2 notes · View notes
makerofmadness · 2 years
Text
@umbrarkzoo felt like you'd wanna be tagged in this so you can see dndnndndnd ('cus I know you like these)
Anyway I felt like posting incorrect FNAF quotes again here ya go (under the cut)
may accidentally repeat a quote from a past post 'cus I've made too many to keep track of and it's been a while ok-
quotes taken from the Perchance generator, I just insert the characters in manually if I find something I can work with
One quote features my hc version of the FNAF 3 guard (maybe I'll post more about that someday I just wanted to use her for one quote).
Toy Freddy: I need a long word.  Toy Bonnie: T-rex but the long one.
-
Jeremy Fitzgerald: How do you do that?  Michael Afton: I'm fearless.  Fritz Smith: I saw you run from bees yesterday. You flailed around and tripped over a chair. It was both hysterical and sad.  Michael Afton: I'm mostly fearless. 
-
Golden Freddy: Slash gamemode creative.  Freddy: Dude, this isn't Min-  Golden Freddy: *starts levitating* 
-
Funtime Freddy: Okay, two person huddle.  Bon-Bon: You can't huddle with two people. This is just a hug.  -
Toy Chica: You're pathetic!  Toy Bonnie: You're pathetic-er!  The Puppet: You're both losers.
-
Michael Afton: Can you name a single city in Oklahoma?  Ennard: Oklahoma City, bitch! 
-
Jeremy Fitzgerald: Let’s watch Sharkboy and Lavagirl.  Fritz Smith: Okay.  Jeremy Fitzgerald: And make out during the scary parts.  Fritz Smith: Th-  Fritz Smith: The scary parts.  Fritz Smith: Of Sharkboy and Lavagirl. 
-
Monty, tearing up the room: Where are they?  Monty looking under a pillow: Who moved them? Who moved my children?  Monty: Somebody moved my M&M's, and now I am going to start killing.
-
Michael Afton: We've got to find a way to cut down our expenses. What can we live without?  Helpy: Lefty, probably.  (insert lawsuit joke here)
-
Roxy: If I'm extra sarcastic with you it probably means I'm flirting with you or you really annoy me and I can't handle your crap... have fun figuring out which one. 
-
Funtime Freddy in a horrible German accent: Bill Nye is on break, I'm Bill Nein.  Michael Afton: Can I go to the bathroom?  Funtime Freddy, in the same horrible German accent: Nein! 
-
Roxy: Now, if I may speak for good-looking people everywhere...  Gregory: Only as their rodeo clown. 
-
Michael Afton: WHO THE FUCK-  Helpy: Whoa, language!  Michael Afton: I speak fucking English!  Henry Emily: ... 
-
Crying Child: I wanna sleep for 40 hours.  Michael Afton: You know that's called a coma, right?  Crying Child:  Crying Child: That sounds so refreshing, I could totally go for a light coma right now. 
-
Michael Afton: I only have 6 weeks left to live.  Jeremy Fitzgerald: Oh my god, really?!  Michael Afton: It's just a guesstimate based on the choices I've made.
-
Circus Baby: You use humor to deflect your trauma.  Michael Afton: Awww, thanks-  Circus Baby: That’s not a good thing.  Michael Afton: All I’m hearing is that you think I’m funny.
-
Michael Afton: Susie, you're my best friend.  FNAF 3 Guard: Best friend? BEST friend?! Bitch, I'm your only friend.  FNAF 3 Guard: I'M THE ONLY ONE CAPABLE OF TOLERATING YOUR DUMB ASS!
-
Michael Afton: Hey guys, today my brother pushed me, so I'm starting a kickstarter to put him down.  Michael Afton: The benefits of killing him are that I would get pushed way less. 
-
Michael Afton, making coffee: This is going to fix everything. 
-
Daycare Attendant: Do you guys ever have a civilized conversation that doesn't require insulting each other every time you get a chance?  Roxy: No.  Gregory: No.  Daycare Attendant: Didn't think so. 
-
Jeremy Fitzgerald, talking about Ennard: Is this a friend of yours, Mike?  Michael Afton: Kind of? Not really. They're in my life and there's nothing I can do about it. 
-
Michael Afton: *trying to buy a Father's Day card at Hallmark*  Michael Afton: Excuse me, do you have any that just say "You are my dad?"  Associate: Well, I-  Michael Afton: How about "You banged my mom?"  Associate: No...  Michael Afton: You know what, I'll just get a blank one.  Michael Afton: *writes* You are a father. This is a day. Here is a card. 
-
Sun: Hopefully Roxanne has learned a lesson about respecting other people's feelings.  Roxy: Oh, shut up and die Sun.
-
Fritz Smith: My future partner must be brave, strong, intelligent, successful and organized.  Jeremy Fitzgerald: *steps on a caterpillar and proceeds to drop to his knees and sob while apologizing profusely*  Fritz Smith: That one. I want that one.
-
Glamrock Freddy: Vanessa, is that legal?  Vanessa: When there's no cops around, anything's legal!
-
Toy Chica: I sort of did something and I need some advice, but I don't want a lot of judgment and criticism.  The Puppet: And you came to me? 
-
William Afton: What goes up but never comes down?  Michael Afton: The amount of stress you're bringing this family. 
-
Gregory: I wish I could control wasps and bees to sting my enemies.  Glamrock Freddy: You’re too young to have enemies.  Gregory: You don’t even know. 
-
Vanessa: Here are two pictures. one of them is your room, and the other is the garbage dump.  Monty: *points at a picture* That one is the dump.  Vanessa: tHEY'RE BOTH YOUR ROOM!  -
Funtime Freddy: The time to act is now.  Funtime Freddy: Wink, wink.  Circus Baby: Don't say "wink wink". Just wink.  Funtime Freddy: Oh, sorry.  Funtime Freddy: Wink. 
-
Vanessa: Where are my fucking keys?  Glamrock Freddy: Officer Vanessa, Gregory is around, can you say it a little nicer?  Vanessa: May I ascertain the whereabouts of my FUCKING KEYS?! 
-
Gregory: Good morning. As you begin your day, remember that violence is always an option and often the answer.  Glamrock Freddy:  Gregory:  Glamrock Freddy: ...Please, go back to bed. 
-
Michael Afton: Hey Mr. Emily, do you have any hobbies?  Henry Emily: Swimming..  Michael Afton: Really? That’s cool. I never expected you to-  Henry Emily: In a pool of self hatred and regret. 
-
Michael Afton: So I have made the decision to trust you.  Circus Baby: A horrible decision, really. 
-
Ennard: You should have realised, Eggs Benedict, if the scooper didn't kill you, we would.
12 notes · View notes
multi-lewder · 2 years
Note
Now with it being known by the public that many Hololive girls were #BLEACHED, it caused them to gain and lose many fans alike, but with how many non-white cucks were sending superchats, it made them way more money, causing the higher ups to be completely okay with more bleached content, even encouraging it. Ame decided to take full advantage of the new rules and decide to have a fan meet up! It seemed non sexual at first glance, but any white stud that attended would get to fuck Ame and the other girls she brought however they liked, Ame and the other girls worshiping them like the white kings they were. When a non-white man stopped by… Ame wasn't as nice… Some even wanting to convince her to give up being bleached, she was quite offended at their sad suggestions. Ame had brought Kronii, Fauna and even Sana to the fan meet up, wanting to show the last of the EN girls why bleached was so incredible. Fauna, already having a big thing for white studs was delighted to hear that Hololive was turning into a bleached company, it made her incredibly happy. Kronii on the other hand considered herself a blacked slut and only showed up to the fan meet and greet to convince the other girls that bleached was inferior, that was until she saw just how much bigger the white studs fucking Ame, Fauna and Sana were. Fauna especially being loud when moaning about how amazing white cocks were, intentionally being as loud as possible to get Kronii to join in the fun. Kronii unable to resist the irresistible sight and amazing lewd noises, decided to join, not regretting it for even a second.
"Sooo~ You all know the deal, right? If you're a REAL man, then hurry up and remind us who we belong to! And the rest of you cucks? You're free to watch, but remember that you're going to have to pay to stick around if you think you're going to have a chance with any of us!" Ame giggled as she explained the rules, although she was soon distracted by a hung white stud coming up behind her. His huge, strong hands immediately covered her phat titties, causing her to moan like the bleached bimbo she is, not even hesitating to lift her skirt to show the #BLEACHED tattoo she's gotten on her ass now that she's allowed to do this without any repercussions. They could barely hear her over the sound of Fauna though, who was already on her knees stroking two BWCs at the same time, wetly kissing them and making out with them like they were her lovers. " Yesss, you hung white studs are so good! I can't wait to feel you all crushing my pussy until I'm your good little bleached bitch!!" She moaned out to praise the hung white studs that were getting ready to have her way with her, moaning loudly even as they grabbed her head to make her take turns gagging on their white cocks.
"Ha. Like those white dicks can really be impressive~, there's no way they can compare to a black man.~" Kronii was smugly bragging to the other girls in front of everyone, having brought her secret boyfriend just so that she could show off in front of everyone how superior black cocks were... only to find herself staring slack-eyed at the biggest, whitest cock she had ever seen, the man's dick hanging between his legs like an elephant trunk while her mouth watered at the sight. She couldn't control herself, her slutty thicc body reacting as if it were made to worship BWC, and she immediately ran over to him, pulling down her top to show off her incredibly phat titties while she made out with him, feeling him grope her with his powerful fingers that made her feel like a real bitch, unlike that black loser she was with.
None of the girls even knew where Sana was because she was immediately dragged off by one of her superfans that she had met several times before, but ever since she had left she hadn't gotten a taste of his enormous BWC, and she was currently getting mating pressed, her phat brown ass being made to ripple intensely with each thrust. His huge cock was perfect for stretching her out, and while she was probably going to get passed around the other BWC studs that had gathered after she was done here, he still looked like he was going to be ready to go for well over three hours before he let her free. Not that she minded, bleached slut that she was.
"Come on, you cucks! You really don't think you could satisfy us, right? How big are you, loser? Two inches? Ahaha, come on, you're making me laugh! Just watch as this guy shows you what a REAL dick is like!" Ame laughed, flipping off the fan that had come up to her to try and stop her, the useless asian cuck watching as she was lifted up into a Full Nelson and was fucked so hard that the BWC was making her insides stretch out from how rough he was with her slutty body. It was obvious all of them were made for BWC only, with several of the fans taking videos and livestreaming the sight of all of them acting like the proper #BLEACHED whores they are.
9 notes · View notes