#Xavi writing

[silkenblankets]

The job was done, red coated the scene and it felt like he could finally think. There was a moment of bittersweet silence, lowering his metal arm and taking in a deep breath. Gunpowder, it wasn't his first time smelling it. Every time before, that scent meant another piece of him was torn from his body, his identity would break into a smaller shard than before.

But it also meant freedom. The initial fear of pain dissolved, replaced by a sweet catharsis. He dropped the weapon, walking up to the body and lifting it's right hand. A handcrafted ring, silver band, with small grey stones beaded on either side of a slightly larger stone resting atop the finger. It came off with a good tug, inspecting the metal before attempting to place it on his own finger. The metallic surface didn't hold the ring, and so he opted to hide it in his only worldly possession: a small pouch of dice pulled tight around his artificial wrist.

Turning his back on his God, he left the home and everything that happened within it. He was lost, he was angry, he was doubtful. But he knew the driveway led to a road, a city was to the right. Or, something similar. He wasn't sure, but it was his only plan.

The road was endless, and unkempt. Despite the dullness of his touch, he could feel the loose asphalt under his feet, scuffing the metal and adding small dents to the form. It was cold, his jacket was the only thing keeping his body from shivering. Slightly oversized with tearing in the sleeves, the only clothing he could fit over the thick spikes worked into his prosthetics. He has always disliked the shape, now outright hating the form it gave him.

He could tell his legs would be sore by now, his hips already ached and his back hurt. The man's posture was more akin to a zombie, his body long since tired.

The moon had been thrown over him, completing its arc as he entered the small city. The sun had begun to emerge, everyone would be waking up soon. But not God. That felt nice to know... But the rattling in his foot signaled damage, he wanted to patch that up. Except he didn't have materials, or method.

Lifting his eyes from the ground, his gaze bounced from one building to the next. Maybe he could find someplace that fixed cybernetic limbs? Though, as far as he knew, nobody really had those. For whatever reason, he had been made the outlier, rather than another corpse in the frigid winter.

Oh, that looked promising. A building that looked more like a garage than the others, the inside showed displays of what looked to be assorted car parts. But it was small and cramped inside, the business wasn't big in the slightest. He tried to pull open the door, but found it was locked. Must be closed. He tried to plan for what time it would be open, hearing muffled footsteps and the scattered crunch of a latch. Feeling the door open, he backed away and stared at who opened it.

A short brunette wearing some kind of work jumpsuit, a name tag was embroidered on the fabric: Michael.

"Hey- do you need something? Are you okay?"

It took him a moment to process that he needed something, he needed to be fixed.

"Do you do repairs?" His metallic voice caused visible confusion in Micheal. "Yup. What for?"

"... My foot."

Michael looked down, skipping past the exposed hips and crouching to inspect the metal appendage. Tilting his head, he gave a confused smile. "It doesn't look that bad, I can fix that I suppose."

He nodded quietly, following the smaller man inside the building. Michael pulled a chair into the garage, which was empty as of now. Motioning to the seat, the cyborg sat down in silence. His foot was lifted and set on a crate, Michael went from one toolbox to the next before returning with a handful of material.

For once, he was grateful for his dulled touch, barely aware of the molten heat touching him. Michael must've found the silence uncomfortable, shifting his stance to look at the man. "What's your name?"

"..." Xavier was dirtied. He didn't know what other name he had. "... Xavi."

Michael smiled. "That's a pretty neat name." He glanced to the gashes in Xavi's jacket, clicking his tongue. "Hey would you like those shaved down? They look really uncomfortable."

Xavi looked at Michael, trying not to show his excitement. "... Can you do that?" He got a nod in response, the mechanic stood and pat Xavi's leg. "Of course, then we can put something on ya to keep you from freezing." The man smiled, holding out his hand.

"C'mon, it should only take a few minutes. Maybe I can get to know you better."

It felt... wonderful, to be a person again.

Xavi used the aid of Michael to pull himself back to his feet, his smile hidden behind his artificial jaw. "Thank you."

Michael gave the cyborg a quick, partial hug as he led him towards the rest of his tools. As he rummaged through the drawers, his smile returned.

"My pleasure, Xavi."

[buttdumplin]

this is an open letter from a poc to folks who are writing characters of color

if you're going to write a scene/interaction in which the character of color is confronting a white character about their racism, do not, i repeat DO NOT, center the white character. not their feelings, not their reactions. because it is never about the white character, nor should it ever be. white tears and white guilt have never fucking done dick for us, and they never fucking will. a response only matters when it is to make amends and change behaviors.

[pfhwrittes]

all my love and thanks go to @buttdumplin for inspiring this soft little something for ale.

tags/triggers: the comfort part of hurt/comfort, use of papi as a pet name, fluff, brief mention of minor injuries (bruises), food mention.

word count: 430ish (unedited and unbeta'd as usual)

pairing: alejandro vargas x gender neutral reader.

a/n: i'm gonna level with you all, i don't know any spanish and the only spanish i know is european spanish. so instead of butchering a beautiful language, i've used a lot of italics. please please tell me if i've screwed up. and my standard request as per the banner, please do not interact with my writing if you're under the age of 18, despite this being entirely fluff.

everything hurts as ale shoulders the door open. his pulse throbs in time behind his eyes and over the swollen bruise on his jaw, a combination of too much paperwork and a lucky hit from rudy in the gym.

ale takes a deep, restorative breath as he makes his way towards the kitchen. the sounds of something sizzling over the music playing on the speakers tempting him further into the house better than any siren song.

"hi my love. busy day?" you call over your shoulder as he drops into the chair at the table heavily, "dinner is almost done, i'm trying the recipe your tía sent me and i think -"

ale tunes the rest of your chatter out as the headache flares behind his eyes and the patterned table cloth in his peripheral - the one his mother gleefully bestowed on you - blurs slightly before he closes his eyes with a tired groan.

"oh papi." you cluck your tongue softly and ale feels your cool hand smooth over his forehead, brushing back the few loose strands of his hair before moving to press lightly on the bruise under the scruff on his jaw.

ale nuzzles into your palm with a sigh.

"i'm sorry my love." he murmurs softly, blinking his tired eyes open slowly.

you're standing in front of him in the soft loose clothing you always prefer when you come home from work. a vision in comfortable cotton and jersey. he gives in to the urge to bury his face in your belly, sighing when the palm cupping his face slides to the nape of his neck. you soothe him with gentle words and gentler touches, kneading at the tense muscles of his neck.

minutes or hours later, ale lifts his head and watches as you melt at his expression. the little frown at your brow smoothing out, love radiating from every pore.

"what would i do without you?"

you hum in response and ale lets his eyelashes flutter closed as you scratch at his scalp lightly.

"come on papi, let's get you in the shower. wash some of the day off you, hm?" you say softly and curl your fingers into his hair, a teasing tug that would ordinarily send the blood zinging through his veins but tonight warms him slowly, making his thoughts go syrupy slow.

ale leans his forehead onto your stomach again, completely content to rest as you dote on him, his words muffled when he speaks.

"i love you so much."

"i know papi," you pause, before urging him to lift his head to look at you, "i love you too."

[astracora]

The Cat Curse - MC Edition - Chapter 3

Characters: Sylus x gn!mc (poly lads)

Warnings: Some hurt/lots of comfort, semi-canon compliant heart condition, spoilers for current story release (Small mentions of Sylus bond up to 102 and all of Sylus' currently released content), small references to the other boys stories.

Word Count: 4603

Written: 26th December 2024

Notes: New relationship Sylus/MC-centric but poly LADs (this time with group chat), with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in. Unnamed MC, but using my personal MC's basic appearance and adjusted backstory. I take some liberties with what the game offers me.

Now Playing: Snuff, by Slipknot

Masterlist

<- Previous

Sylus is learning new things about you.

One, you know far more about flowers than he expected. When asked, you'd told him a friend you'd had since college was 'big into the whole language of flowers thing'.

You'd listened to her talk about it for a long time, picked somethings up, and kept a decent knowledge of it for her. "I was never really good at learning at school, but if I want to know something, I retain way more information than I probably need to." You'd huffed a laugh, shrugging your shoulders like it didn't matter.

Like he didn't watch you constantly learn in order to support and understand those you care for.

Art history to keep up with the fish. Pouring over physics books for the prince. Cardiology books in the kitchen worn and earmarked for the doctor. You'd sit and asked him questions about business and his day to day, as well. He's sure there's books by your bed to help you understand him, part of him is curious. The other part wants to let you piecing him together be a constant surprise.

Two, you and the twins cannot be left alone. Not ever.

He's used to the twins causing chaos wherever he goes, they are full of mischief on their best days. Frankly, he's grown too numb to their antics. Though there are the occasional moments when they surprise him.

Handcuffs, a gun that shoots hearts, and you glaring at him with an unimpressed look.

He'd thanked them, internally, for that particular one. Amusement chasing his heart around for weeks afterwards. Until you'd done something else to amuse, and the cycle continued.

He's glad that your album is being filled out again, so many moments that warm his chest. To have a physical manifestation is tickling. An odd sensation he has no memory of ever having before meeting you.

Sylus does however, wish the three of you would stop vanishing everytime he takes his eyes off you for a moment.

Of all the feline traits he enjoys out of you, your ability to vanish into thin air is not one of them. He regrets not taking your hand, keeping you chained to him, even without the evol link. He'd once sent you a photo, asking if you could spot a cat in his base... this game feels harder, and he finds himself irritable that you are here... together. Surrounded by all manner of flowers, that you can rattle off information about, or lean in, close your pretty eyes and inhale, and he is wandering it alone.

Trying to find a flash of white fur, or hear your voice, a song for him. Or at this point, even spot the twins and their ridiculous crow hoodies. A gift from you for when they need to be outside the N109 zone.

"It's more lowkey, and you'll still be wearing house colours."

He's had to forcibly remove them from the two just to wash them. Lest the smell corrupt his entire base.

It's the poison gardens where he finally finds you, Luke and Kieran are daring each other to eat something, belladonna he learns, and he grabs them both by the scruff to pull them away as he advances on you.

Yet he pauses, as he watches you. Crouched in front of the datura flowers, ears drooping, tail in the dirt, staring at them with eyes that look on the verge of tears.

"You two, don't eat anything." He hisses softly to the twins, who mock salute him before racing off again.

There's a feeling around you like he's looking at stained glass. Tragic and hurting, but beautiful all the same. Perhaps more so. He remembers dreams, and yearnings and all the things he wished he'd had time to say. Or do. He has all the time in the world now, he thinks, and he still wishes he could go back to offer you more than he did.

"Kitten." It's soft, so that when he crouches with you, he doesn't startle your heart. You blink up at him and your eyes are glassy and far away, "What's wrong?"

You reach a hand out to the flower, and he grabs it to pull it back, entwining your fingers. You finally focus back on him, head tilted and trying to clear the daze in your eyes. "I..." eyes darting back to the flowers, "got the strangest feeling."

There's a lump in his throat that he can't get rid of. His mind is playing memories that aren't real memories. A wishful dream shared. So he sits, pulling you over. You're aware enough to remember this is a public place, glancing about and settling into his arms when you realise you're alone. "What about?"

Your fingers twitch against his, and he can see your urge to touch them. It's not like that dream though. Here these flowers can hurt you. "A field of flowers in the mountains..." Your brow creases a little, staring at them with pinned ears and narrowed eyes, like they're holding answers you can't grasp with your hands, "They mean devotion." You finally settle on, looking at him, as your tail wraps around his wrist.

Sylus' chuckle escapes him, through the dull edges of sorrow, and through the sharp stab of relief. He finds your frustration endearing to be sure, yet it's the words said to him with glistening eyes, like he doesn't already know that.

So deep in every bone in his body that if there ever comes a day he forgets those flowers, and your lips on his, even if it was nothing but a daydream, he thinks he'll be truly mad. He only hopes if that day comes, you'll tell him about the flowers again.

You don't remember how his heart changed when you told him those flower suited him. So dangerous, and so beautiful, that you still want to touch them even now. He thinks the sickness he has, a troubled heart that beats for you and a soul that cannot quiet when you are near, is probably his greatest joy in this world.

He feels drawn like a moth to a flame. The man that he is, no horns, no wings and no tail, who cannot relinquish his treasure no matter the cost. For as long as you love and want him, he will seek you out anywhere.

Your eyes dart down to his mouth, hesitating, then up again. He leans towards you, but you are overcome. Holding him, kissing him, purring into his mouth. It is a taste unlike any other, and as he falls back, holding you tight as you kiss and devour and satisfy your hunger, he sees the datura's dancing next to him.

----

You're milling around the gift shop, Luke and Kieran following after with a basket. Though their version of following, you realise, is getting lost in aisles, and yelling at you from across the shop. You've seen some old ladies giving them dirty looks, which while you understand, you do return. Even if you do ask them to be a little quieter.

Which they... kind of take on board. Changing to loud whispers. You do have to remove a few things from the basket, three different types of plant pots you don't really need, five cacti, "They look like boss!", and almost an entire shops worth of fudge.

"Hunter! Can we try that?"

Luke is waving some chilli flavoured honey in your face, and though you can't quite fight the way your nose crunches up at the idea, you put it in the basket.

You wish you could blame the cat curse for your inability to handle a degree of spice, but that's just all you. Even if your tongue is way more sensitive right now.

"Grab a local honey from the counter, the others will want some."

Kieran nods and darts off, while you and Luke browse the chocolate selection.

It's a very serious choice. "Which will Zayne like most?"

Luke gives you a look that says you're a fool for asking, "He'll eat them all too quickly for anyone to see those arty wrappers." You both look at each other and nod, "Except for the carrot one."

So you pick up ones with the prettiest packaging so Raffy can have them for inspiration afterwards, and move onto the seed section. Almost getting barrelled into as Kieran returns with the spoils of war, a too large jar of honey that you're sure won't last long between the lot of you.

The seeds are easy, Xavi will enjoy growing almost anything, but you want to get ones for all of them. It's impossible to buy the datura's you still can't stop thinking about, so as you put cala lilies, forget-me-nots and jasmines in the basket. Along with some snowdrops, daisies and lobelia seeds, you ponder over Sylus. Every flower that comes to mind is as beautiful as it is deadly, and as much as you think he'd appreciate those, he wouldn't appreciate the risk to your health for it.

You think about his hand clasping yours in front of the datura, pulling you back despite the deep pit of yearning in your heart to bury yourself amongst the bright red flowers.

Like you belonged there with them. Like they wouldn't hurt you.

Your hand hovers over the poppy seeds, remembrance for the dead, before you pull away and shake the feeling off. Your tail puffing up and then settling as you try to fight the ghost of a feeling.

"Hunter, what about these, they're cute!" Luke waves a pack of bellflowers at you. You blink at the disruption to your thoughts, and look over at him and Kieran. Matching bird hoods pulled back so they can watch you. You tell yourself it's not pity in their eyes, just concern.

You have to stop thinking the worst.

"Bellflowers..." You dig through your memories but the meaning won't come to you.

Luke turns the packet around and looks at the back, "Says, 'unwavering heart.'" He pulls a face but shoves the packet at you.

"Sounds like boss, unkillable." Kieran adds, nodding to himself.

The words don't sit right with you but you decide not to think about it, and instead take the packet from them, they're not wrong. He certainly is unwavering, so you put them in the basket, and grab some gomphrena.

As you walk away with the twins, your feet stop. Turning back around, you grab the poppy seeds.

Caleb deserves flowers too.

-------

Sylus had been forced to stand outside the shop, if you hadn't, you think he would have bought the shop with how long you and the twins were looking  through everything. Plus, you'd wanted to surprise him for once. He expected everything, had a plan for everything, was impossible to sneak up on. Even with all your training, you'd never got the upper hand with the man.

You'd even tried teaming up with Xavi, much to Sy's amusement. He'd hefted you up, catching you easily, and had kissed his affection to both of your heads before heading off to a meeting. Laughing to himself as he went.

Xavier had looked at you with a new commitment in his eyes, you both would get the crow.

Today wouldn't be any different, you know that. Staring at his figure leaning against the wall as you leave the shop. Twins in tow, who are shoving their fingers in honey they didn't even wait to leave the shop to start on. You made a note to get them a dentist appointment... you're pretty sure they've never been.

Sylus is the picture of untouchable beauty, just like the datura. His eyes don't dart around but you know he's clocking everything around him. Ready if he needs to be, tracking escape routes if necessary. You're sure you've never seen him truly relax anywhere but at home. Even then it took a while before he moved the gun from under the pillow to the side cabinet.

You shush the twins, fangs gleaming, and they nod, hanging back as you pull your tail close and press your ears back against your head. Creeping forward, closer, closer, almost-

"Are you done kitten?"

He doesn't even turn to look at you, but his voice is soft with laughter, and you droop a little. "Do you have ears in your back?"

"Just very good ears on my head, beloved. I can tell your footsteps from anywhere." He reaches behind him to take the bag from your metal hand, and then takes your other one in his. Running his thumb over the skin. "So I can always know where you are." Is pressed into the side of your head with a kiss, and you nuzzle him, then pull away as the twins clear their throats.

"Want some honey, boss?"

Sylus screws up his nose as they offer it to him with sticky hands. "How old are you two?"

"Never too old for honey."

He rubs the space between his eyes and decides not to fight that battle, or explain his question. "What did you get, besides a sugar crash for the twins?"

You hesitate for a moment, he's looking at you and not at the bag. Asking permission to peek, wanting you to set or rescind boundaries at will.

You lean into his side as the four of you begin to walk, and nod, "Gifts." He looks down into it, "Seeds... so we can grow them together." His fingers twitch against yours in your grasp, and his eyes lighten and burn as he looks at your offerings.

"And." You pull his hand, hesitating, he stops and turns, and you take a box out of your pocket, almost stuffing it into his chest with how you hand it over. He places the bag down gently, so he doesn't have to release your hand, and opens it. Nestled amongst some craft paper is a hand woven bracelet with a white cat charm. "For you." Your fangs dig into your bottom lip, you taste the nerves and the blood and part of your brain begs you to pull out of his grasp.

Run away.

It was such a silly purchase. He can buy anything why would he-

He's kissing you, warmth on your lips, and hand holding the bracelet against your neck, the grip on your hand is tight and firm. Like he never plans to release you. Not now, not ever. It grounds your nerves, chases away the anxiety, the traitorous voice.

He tastes sweet, and for a dull moment you wonder if he did take the twins honey, before your brain empties, and you let him pull you into the abyss with him.

His smile is still against your lips when you come up for air, but he doesn't pull away, and when you blink your eyes open, he's a burning pyre of beautiful red eyes and shock of white messy hair. He licks his lips, looking at you like he wants to eat you whole. Eyes slightly wet.

"Beautiful." You exhale, prosthetic hand tracing his cheek where he flushes softly.

"Thank you." Sylus speaks, and for a moment you wonder if he will cry, but he simply kisses you once more, sighing into your mouth, and tasting your own.

--------

Work can't seem to wait, as much as he wants to leave it be, he's stuck responding to messages and reading legalese. Sylus leaves you, Luke and Kieran in the living room. You're playing a video game together, and arguing over how to solve a puzzle. He heads to the kitchen with a glass of gin fizz, glasses on, and gets to work.

He thinks he manages about three hours of no interruptions, which is a record where the twins are concerned. He took one break to call the doctor to pick up some ingredients for dinner, and then resumed his work. It's boring and he has to do it. Onychinus, as much as a chore as it can be, is important to him. While he'd love to live a quiet life with you, simple and relaxed, until every threat biting at your heels is gone... he doesn't have the luxury of laying down his weapons.

Ears pricking up, he can feel you. Stepping as quietly as you can up behind him. He wants to laugh but swallows it down, wanting to see what you do and what your goal is. You always grumble when he catches you, and you never seem happy when he informs you that he just simply would always listen out for you.

How could he not hear his own heart after all?

A tail smacks him in the nose, and his tablet is knocked out of his hand. You laugh, gleeful and satisfied, going to rush out of the room.

Unluckily for you, he is faster. EVOL wrapping around you and pulling you into his lap, as you wriggle and laugh. Tail swishing. Your pupils have almost swallowed your iris'.

"Nooo!" You groan, "How are you that fast?"

"Good reflexes, honed from years of practice." He teases, nipping your nose, amused when you nip back. He watches your pupils and your tail. Watches the way you look like you're vibrating, unable to sit still in his lap. "Now why is my troublesome kitten trying to break my work tools?"

The tablet is unharmed, caught in mist, and placed on the side.

Still, it's not like you to go out of your way to break things. Though, looking at your tail, he realises he forgot cats enjoy chaos.

"Bored! You've been in here too long." You nip again, butt your head against him gently. Hand in a fist gently hitting his shoulder. You look up at him where your head is now pressed to his collarbone, shrinking in on yourself to get as much heat from his body as you can, "I feel... odd."

"Odd?"

He watches the question spin in your head, as you worry at your lip with your teeth, he catches your lip before the fangs can draw blood.

"Like I want to run."

"Ah." He points at your eyes, then your tail which has not settled since he's been watching you, and then the twitching in your hand. "Someone has zoomies."

"Excuse me?"

"Zoomies, kitten. Surely you've seen cats before."

You huff, hissing a little, "I've not lived under a rock, Sylus."

He lets out a chuckle and taps your nose, "You need stimulation. I thought your game would work."

Your cheeks heat up, he can feel the change against his skin, and you bite his finger, "I got bored."

"Oh?"

"You weren't around."

His hand tightens on your waist, nose running along your cheek, taking long inhales of your scent like you're a flower in the desert. "I'm sure I can find something for us to do." Your tail stills, and you blink up at him. "Let's entertain my little kitten."

------

"I didn't think you meant the park..."

"Expecting something else?"

You'd be lying if you said no. Sylus was a walking innuendo more often than he wasn't. He was very openly flirty, he said things that made Zayne and Raffy blush often. You're sure only Xavier could be more overt. Still, a park.

You have headphones in, to help manage the noise, and your hand is firmly in Sylus'. Normally you don't leave the house without your prosthetic on, but you don't want the straps on your skin right now, and there's nothing pressing that requires you to need it. The twins are kicking a football next to you, you're not actually sure where it came from.

"They didn't steal that right?" You whisper to Sylus.

"I bought it for them after you showed them that movie, and they wanted to try to? Bend it?"

The unsure look on his face is something special and you fight the urge to laugh at him, successfully, though you're sure he can read it on you because his face softens.

"Hunter, can you play?"

"Caleb showed me a while back, I wasn't very good."

"Not enjoying sports, kitten? How surprising."

You elbow him, snorting, "I can fight just fine, I don't need to be a sportsman."

Still, that feeling in your limbs is still there. Like you're vibrating, on edge, ready. It's almost like adrenaline but it doesn't seem to settle. Like you want to run, and run, and run.

"Play with us then." Kieran kicks the ball to you, and you try to remember how you're supposed to aim.

You releases Sylus' hand on impulse as you test the ball at your feet, thinking about Caleb who laughed as you kicked either too far or not far enough. Never able to control the strength you put into sports. Tennis had resulted in broken windows, football had resulted in balls over fences, you'd gotten injured trying rugby, too aggressive for hockey, and you'd fallen on your face too many times trying to ski.

He'd always laughed and then eased you through the motions, not lost patience with you, always had a hand out to help you move forwards.

Caught up in your memories, you don't notice the dog running up for the ball until it barks right in your face.

Fur on end, leaping up into the air, and a harsh hiss ripping from you in seconds. It's just a dog. Just a dog. You like dogs... you-

The hiss turns into a growl, and then a yowl, as it gets more aggravated at you for reacting, and your tail is up, bristling and shaking. You can feel yourself trembling, the barking feels like it's in stereo. Surrounding you and sinking into you. Tearing through your eardrums and pulling the ground out under you.

Before Sylus can even get to you, the twins are a wall between you and a rogue dog. Both growling themselves, in a way that makes the dog whine and squeal and back off. Neither touch you, but as the owner comes up, apologising profusely for losing hold of their dog, the twins turn to you and herd you away from the area.

The shivering won't stop, but your tail, still bristled, tucks between your legs. Twitching and seeking. Sylus' hand on the small of your back, makes you jump again for a moment before his scent fills your senses and you slump back towards him. Knowing he'll catch you.

Stupid.

Stupid...

"I've got you. It's alright."

He covers your cat ears, and leads you somewhere quiet.

A wooded area, quiet and removed from park goers. After a little while, you think you can breathe properly again and your fur has settled. He is tracing patterns into your back, giving you a point of focus. "Sorry."

"Nothing to apologise for."

"It's stupid."

"You're cursed, kitten. I hardly think being scared by a dog is something stupid. People are scared of them without being cats."

"Hunter!"

"Hunter."

The twins pop up, they have steaming paper cups in hand, shoving one at you. You grab it quickly before burns are added to your problems. The smell of coffee floats up to you, familiar.

"We got hot chocolate, tea and coffee."

"We guessed you'd want coffee but options are good."

Sylus' chuckle moves through you from where he's holding you, taking a hot chocolate for himself.

You wipe at your eyes, and sip the coffee, the heat easing you from the inside out. It takes you to mornings where a coffee is brought to you in bed, eased out of the land of nightmares with soft touches and warm kisses. If you were a more touchy person, you would hug the twins. You're not sure if they'd even want you to, and it's not a conversation for today.

As Sylus sips, and you ease into his side, watching the twins argue over which the other will drink, you offer your thank yous to them all softly. Only to receive unbothered shrugs from the twins, and a nod from Sylus. As though it is not a problem, as though helping you is second nature. As though you shouldn't expect anything else.

It is as you finally feel the world slot back into place, tail curling around Sylus, that he blinks, looking at the twins, and asks, "Where did you get the money for these?"

The twins jump, look at each other, then at you both, as they go to speak, you hear a yelled, "Oi! You two! You didn't pay!"

You get to watch Sylus furrow his brow, sigh like a long suffering parent, and take his card to the stall owner with a pointed look at the twins.

"Thanks boss!"

"Thanks boss."

-------

He's watching you sleep, talking nonsense as your ears twitch. Your hand twitches against his arm as he lies on his stomach next to you, face turned to you. Arm thrown over your waist and your leg thrown over his, foot hooked to keep one of his legs between yours. Trying to keep as much contact as you can with him. Tail around his ankle.

You swap roles often. The guard and the guarded, both too on edge often. When someone else joins your sleep, sometimes you both lie awake and protect. The prince has dragged you both to bed often, seeing the wear around your eyes.

Tonight, he lies and stares at you. Not a guard dog, simply admiring. From the view of the bed, he can see the balcony planter. Full now, of treasures he cannot wait to see bloom to life. You move, rubbing your cheek against the pillow, and wiggle closer. Seeking the heat of him, pressing yourself so close he thinks you're trying to fuse with him.

He sometimes wonders if your split soul is seeking his out to be whole again. If it misses part of the noisy thing that lives in his chest. Changing him willingly. He isn't sure he would ever want to hand it back. It is at home inside of him, just as you are at home in his arms. Just as part of him burns in your chest, even if you can't hear it as loudly as he can.

Sylus knows it is there, and he hopes it reminds you every day that he adores you. That his love is eternal, that he will want you beyond the death of stars.

He changes positions so that he can pull you into his arms, fit you against him, and rest your head against his chest. So you can hear it. His heart and yours thrumming. Dancing and singing for each other. Hoping the sound of your joining will keep you safe in sleep, away from the nightmares that haunt you.

As he takes your hand in his, splaying your fingers over his stomach, he feels the familiar gold sparks of your resonance. Weak and small, hindered by your curse, but there. He thrills, assured and comforted by you seeking him out in every way you can. That even in sleep you seek connection to him. That your power yearns to touch his.

He has gone from seeing hatred in your eyes, to holding you against his chest, kissing your tears away, and protecting you in moments you let yourself be a cared for.

It is not the first time he has fought for a prize. Has hunted and struggled for a treasure. It is, however, the most valuable reward he has ever earned.

And everyday he lives, he is joyed to continue to keep you. Right here, where he can love you.

[saphirdevil]

my first art of them but ill post them now, idk man everyday im just like idk,,,, man

[il-predestinato]

Charles: "Prepare the other helmet with the darker visor please." Xavi: "This is the darkest visor we have." Charles: "Okay, copy." Max: "The sun is becoming lower and lower. It's quite annoying." GP: "Yeah, understood. Do you want your tape?" Max: "No, it's okay. Just annoying." GP: "Understood." "So - Verstappen and Leclerc on the same page there." 🚫☀️

Charles Leclerc & Max Verstappen | Q1 | 2023 Azerbaijan Grand Prix

🎥: F1TV (team radio)

[seedlessmuffins]

footballers as flowers i see on my nature walks pt. 18!

happy birthday to the lovely @cant-get-no-worse, ciene im sorry this is late for you but i hope i did all your favs justice and that you had an amazing bday, you deserve the world! 🫶

[xiaoluclair]

4/5/6

4. nose kisses

5. jawline kisses

6. eyelid kisses // lestappen // rating: G

FORMULA 1 ETIHAD AIRWAYS ABU DHABI GRAND PRIX 2027 ↳ COMMENTATORS’ BOX TRANSCRIPT

19:01 [David CROFTY, with crescendo] And Liam Lawson brings it home to win the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix in brilliant succession, and brilliant it certainly was but we can’t focus for long right now because the man about to be second place, he’s been called many things in his lifetime: Il Predestinato, The Curse Breaker, Ferrari’s Salvation, and now after this night he can finally etch one more onto that list—

SCUDERIA FERRARI PIT WALL | DRIVER RADIO ↳ C. LECLERC

18:59 [Max VERSTAPPEN] CHARLES LECLE

18:59 [Charles LECLERC] AHHHHHHHHHHHH

18:59 [VERSTAPPEN] YOU ****ING DID IT YOU ****ING WENT AND D

18:59 [LECLERC] OH MY ****ING GOD AHHHHHHHHHHHH OH MY

19:00 [VERSTAPPEN] CHARLES LECLERC YOU ARE OFFICIALLY THE TWO THOUSAND AND TWENTY SEVEN WORLD CHAMPION!

19:00 [LECLERC] **** LET'S ****ING GOOO BABY!

19:00 [VERSTAPPEN] Ahaha, let's go baby indeed!

19:00 [LECLERC] Are you crying?

19:00 [VERSTAPPEN] My eyes are just a little bit sweaty, mate.

19:00 [LECLERC] Mine too.

START—FINISH STRAIGHT | POST RACE CELEBRATIONS ↳ VISUAL TRANSCRIPT

19:06 [Liam LAWSON parks in P1 and pulls himself out of the RB23. He stands on the front of the car and yells in delight.]

19:06 [Charles LECLERC pulls carefully into the P2 position, knocking over the P2 BOARD.]

19:06 [LAWSON jumps down from his car and runs to his team. The RED BULL RACING crew catch him like quicksand.]

19:06 [Oscar PIASTRI takes the final P3 spot, smoke trailing after his wheels.]

19:06 [Much like LAWSON, LECLERC balances himself on top of the SF-27 and pumps his fists into the air over and over again. He leaps onto the ground and sprints right for the SCUDERIA FERRARI crew, who are akin to a pack of screaming animals.]

19:07 [PIASTRI descends from his car in slightly a calmer manner. Still, he also seems to have forgotten the concept of walking. Before he can reach the RED BULL RACING crew, LAWSON catches him around the abdomen and pulls him into a hug. Their helmets knock together a little and the embrace is reciprocated quickly.]

19:07 [LECLERC, now pulled away from the arms of his team, is standing on his tip-toes. He appears to be searching for someone. He leans into a SCUDERIA FERRARI crew member and, after a few moments, they shout a reply, pointing in the direction of the garages. LECLERC starts to move, seemingly to where the crew member showed, but is pulled back by the same crew member. Rapid conversation is shared between them.]

19:08 [PIASTRI, LAWSON and LECLERC all congratulate each other before documenting their weight in quick succession, as per the FiA's Sporting Regulation 29.1 (a)(ii).]

19:08 [PIASTRI is quick to chug down half a bottle of water. He wears a tired expression that smiles readily at LAWSON's grin. LAWSON puts an arm around PIASTRI's shoulders. The two lean against each other as they share words.]

FORMULA 1 ETIHAD AIRWAYS ABU DHABI GRAND PRIX 2027 ↳ POST RACE INTERVIEWS | HOSTED BY Sebastian VETTEL

19:15 [Sebastian VETTEL, smiling] Charles.

19:15 [Charles LECLERC, grinning] Sebastian.

19:15 [VETTEL] How are you feeling right now?

19:15 [LECLERC, glancing to the side] You just asked me that five minutes ago before this interview, my answer has not changed. I am very, very, very happy, I. There are no words. No words.

19:15 [VETTEL] That could be a problem considering this interview has to last at least two minutes.

19:15 [LECLERC, glancing to the side again] I am very sorry.

19:15 [VETTEL, grinning] Tell everyone else how you're feeling then. It's your very first World Championship, there's got to be a lot of emotions rattling around inside.

19:16 [LECLERC] Oh absolutely. I am. I mean, first I would like to say well done to Liam because he was absolutely amazing this race, and it is a shame we could not battle because of the penalty. But right now, right now I am unbelievably happy right now, I cannot even say it. I am shaking, I think, my hands feel so light and I will probably crash into bed completely later but for now it is. Unbelievable.

19:16 [VETTEL, teasing] No gratuitous 'thank you's?

19:16 [LECLERC] Sorry?

19:16 [VETTEL, grinning] People you want to thank. Any past teammates maybe?

19:17 [LECLERC, laughing] Oh! I mean of course, Marcus taught me a lot so yes I would like to thank him. [laughs again, seemingly at the look on VETTEL's face.] Of course I would also like to thank you, Seb. And I am actually very happy it is you interviewing me here when you were— oh my God, sorry.

19:17 [LECLERC, suddenly sprinting almost too fast for the camera to follow] Where the fuck were you?!

19:17 [Max VERSTAPPEN, catching LECLERC in his arms] Paul dropped a coffee all over me, mate, it was

19:17 [VETTEL, amused] Seemed a bit half-hearted, but I'll take it.

19:17 [LECLERC, against VERSTAPPEN's jaw] God-damnit, Paul.

19:18 [VERSTAPPEN, grinning] Keep it PG, Leclerc.

19:18 [LECLERC, pressing his smile into kisses all over VERSTAPPEN's face] I love [Mia DJACIC takes the microphone easily from his hand] *Unintelligible*.

FORMULA 1 ETIHAD AIRWAYS ABU DHABI GRAND PRIX 2027 ↳ COMMENTATORS’ BOX TRANSCRIPT

19:18 [David CROFTY] Oh, and a little one on the nose to round it off. Do you think that's why Xavi left?

19:18 [Martin BRUNDLE, dryly] On the contrary, I'm pretty sure that's why anyone would stay.

[alexi-01]

this whole xavi thing is giving the club didn’t like that he announced he was leaving and took the power away from the board so got him to say he’ll stay just to sack him to get that power back

[jb-nonsense]

💜 for whoever inspires you

send a heart and a ship for a brief snippet!

Note: This is going to be viewed as a draft for a long series of fics I plan to write surrounding Nievys in the SWTOR era but not involving the main storylines too much, save for how they effect the galaxy around them. Background: Nievys is sent on a mission to Hoth, and unexpectedly meets a target from a former mission. The pair find themselves having to rely on each other to survive the inhospitable planet when comms go out and a storm approaches. Pairing: Nievys Xavy (OC) x Rees Dival (OC) Word Count: 1,017

               The howling of the Hoth winds beat against the shelter. Nievys looked through the items which had been left when it had been abandoned. Some flimsies with notes, broken datapads, old rations. It appeared to have been a Republic base before they had bugged out. She looked up to the thief, who was checking the life support systems and noting if anything was off. She watched how he sucked in a breath, grabbing his side and wincing a bit. That hit from the wampa he’d gotten must of hurt more than he’d originally let on.

               “So, how long do we have?” she asked, taking a step towards him in the small space.

               “Oh, about a planetary day cycle,” Rees told her with a shrug. “At least with how it is now. If I make some adjustments, it could last longer, but we’d be colder.” He threw her a devilish, teasing smirk. “Could need to share body heat.” Nievys gave a scoff at that, folding her arms and turning her back to him to hide the warmth coming to her cheeks. “I am just joking, your agentness.” The weight on her shoulders was a surprise. She glanced down to the blanket there, just as Rees’s hands slipped off her shoulders. “We have blankets.” He moved past her and Nievys ignored how cold her shoulders felt. She grabbed the blanket and tied it tighter around her, watching as he went over to the comms. “See if there’s anything on how long this storm will be.”

               Nievys sat down on the cot, watching him. He swore in some Festian language as all he could get was static. He looked from one side to another, his hand twitching a bit at his side. His body seemed ready to move in any and every direction. It was different than the usual put together man she’d encountered before. He always had a plan. Is this what he was like when he didn’t? She’d find it humorous if she also wasn’t in the same predicament as him.

               Her gaze wandered from him to the capsule. She knew there wasn’t much else to do but wait. Sometimes that’s all she could do. She had been on plenty of stakeouts with Erik to know that. She rose to a stand as he walked by again and reached out, grabbing his arm. He stopped in his steps but didn’t turn to look at her.

               “There’s not much else you can do, Rees,” she told him. “I’ve never seen you like this before and I’m sure you were in a worse predicament on Nar Shaddaa.”

               “Yes, but that was just me,” he pointed out, finally turning to her, dark brown eyes meeting gray. “I have you to be concerned about.”

               “Well, it’s a good thing I can take care of myself.” She ignored how it felt with him so close in that small space. And it felt like the space was shrinking when she heard and felt the warm chuckle from him.

               “That,” he began, brushing a strand of hair out of her face, “I am quite aware of.”

A bubbling pressure built up in her chest and she pushed it down, keeping a steady, almost defiant gaze with him. “So, when someone else is in danger, then you have concern?”

               “Depends on the someone else,” he threw back, a daring look in his eye.

               “Typical,” Nievys scoffed, turning away from him.

               “What? Usually, people appreciate those kinds of statements,” Rees defended himself, trying to move so he was looking at her but barely making it by her due to the small space.

               “Exactly, it’s still in a way to benefit yourself.” She sat down, arms folded and back to him.  The sound of his sigh filled the silence and the cot shifted as he sat beside her.

               “You really are not a typical Imperial.”

               “And what does that mean? You’ve said that before—” She turned to face him but stopped when she realized how close he was to her.

               “I think you know exactly what I mean.”

               Her chest heaved and mind raced. She could feel her heart racing and the nerves coming in. She didn’t want to think about what he was implying and what he meant. She didn’t want to look at her life like that yet. She needed time and right now she needed a distraction. Any sort of distraction would do.

               The warmth of his lips against hers as she pulled him to her surprised her as much as it surprised him. The heat melted away the shock, both of them sloppily wrapping their arms around the other to bring them closer. The feeling of his firm hand on the small of her back bringing her closer caused her breath to hitch in her throat. She easily glided into his lap; chest pressed to chest as well as their bulky winter clothes would allow. Nievys’s hands slipped down to undo his coat fastening as their lips pulled apart. Rees stopped her, though, taking her hands in his.

               “What are you,” she began but stopped when he brought her hands to his lips, kissing her fingers as his dark eyes watched her.

               “Don’t do this unless you want to,” he said. “Usually, I’m not bothered by a random fling for whatever reason but…” He paused, swallowing his words.

               “But what?”

               “Well, that reason would not be smart to tell an agent, no?”

               Nievys settled against him, eyes examining his features. The way his dark eyes watched her, the steady patience he had for her decision. She’d always followed along with what others wanted or at least amused them. Her mother and her attempts at matchmaking, her brother and his ambitions, even her work within Imperial Intelligence. Very rarely had anyone been interested in what she actually wanted. And yet here was a cad, a thief, making sure she wanted to continue.

               “I do believe I want to,” Nievys said, her voice dropping into a low, warm hum. She watched the slow, easy smirk spread across his lips and leaned closer for another kiss.

[thesinglesjukebox]

XAVI- "LA DIABLA"

Ho ho ho, delightfully devilish...

[6.45]

Alfred Soto: I'm bored with devil/angel cliches, but Xavi's way with short and vowel sounds (especially with a's) and especially that fiercely strummed guitar -- oh, that guitar -- represent novelty for a moribund top twenty. Now I need to hear it on the radio. [7]

Will Adams: If nothing else, a stunning display of the numerous timbres that a guitar can produce. Bonus point for the outro where the song suddenly turns into "Iris." [6]

Nortey Dowuona: lilith is so cool u guys [10]

Katherine St. Asaph: Dudes can make profoundly undevilish songs about their supposedly devilish lovers too! [3]

Ian Mathers: Maybe I'm just not familiar enough with the nuances of this genre, but "La Diabla" feels like it has real "we've got Eslabon Armado y Peso Pluma at home" vibes to me. [7]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: There's something a little too theater-kid in Xavi's vocals -- he's putting something on like he's the Meat Loaf of corridos -- but the strength of the interlocking hooks here, both vocal and instrumental, is enough to overcome the slight twinge of embarrassment I get when he wails about Balenciaga. [7]

Leah Isobel: The way "La Diabla" insists of running Xavi's voice through filters on, like, every other line gives it a strangely frantic feel. I guess it's supposed to up the intensity, but it comes across as a bit try-hard. I love the minimal, melancholy outro passage, though. [6]

Brad Shoup: The strings are yanked back like a yo-yo trick, or a spider darting back into its hole: the dryness of the mix is great if you want to hear instrumental interplay. If you want any other kind, then the effect is that of someone shooting his shot with the last-call lights on. [7]

Mark Sinker: Bit lazy to unleash it twice but I will never not love the telephone-effect voice, here deployed to say “Christian Dior” in two places (for somewhat unparseable reasons). It’s usually traced back to “Yellow Submarine" in pop but I’m pretty sure that George Martin borrowed it from the Goon Show. And of course pioneer crooner Rudy Vallee often sang through an actual real megaphone, like a hundred years ago. Meanwhile Xavi isn't yet 20, and looks 12. [7]

TA Inskeep: His voice belies his years (he's not even 21 & sounds like a norteño singer some 20 years his senior), and the simple acoustic dual guitar accompaniment works in the song's favor. [6]

Taylor Alatorre: “La Víctima” minus the middle-school misogyny, so what we’re left with is a frenetic strumming pattern with inherently diminishing returns, which is just good enough for a passing score today but likely won’t be in the future, assuming there is one. [6]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

[buttdumplin]

i'm realizing now almost everything i write has either food or is set in the kitchen and i'm sorry yall i don't know what to tell you, that's the communal and social spaces, i don't make the rules

[pfhwrittes]

first impression: whoa they're so cool and they write such neat things!!! and transmasc reader??? fucking sold. loving you from afar <3

now: i tear up every time i see you in my notes, i'm so honored to be in community with you!! i love hearing what you have to say and how you feel about things. i always have you in mind when i write transmasc reader too, taking strength from reading your work. i'll continue to love you <3

xavi 💕💕💕💕

[silkenblankets]

Cyborg whump on brain

Want it on paper

But then I have to write

Write hard...

PASSION

oh i forgot the plot part

(it's a poem?)

-🤖

[saphirdevil]

there's always next time

[getting-messi]

Oh that World Cup winner, back-to-back Euro winner, two-time treble winner including captaining Barca to one in his final season in Europe Xavi (and so much more)? yeah why is he relevant?

Only an idiot can say that a World Cup doesn’t count for much and bring up Instagram followers in the same freaking sentence

IDIOT🤭