#and it kind of broke that foundation for them

[oneominousvalbatross]

I have a lot of recommendations depending on tastes, I'm kind of a sucker for Expert Talks About Thing at length, but,

(Oh jeez I just typed this out and I had way more than I thought)

Tech/Computers:

Acerola talks graphics programming and is very entertaining

Freya Holmer has videos on math for games programming that I like, but are more on the informative/how to end of things

Sebastian Lague's Coding Adventures are extremely soothing to my brain

Science:

Seconded on BobbyBroccoli and Angela Collier, they're both excellent!

Gaming:

Noah Caldwell-Gervais is one of maybe two people I can think of who can make the Absurdly Long Video Essay and have it be worth listening to, their videos have the tone of travellogues.

SulMatul has a few videos that live in my brain forever, specifically her video on We Know the Devil, which broke my brain, but she tends not to be super lighthearted with her subject material

Worm Girl does breakdowns of the sort of video game that I don't have the constitution to play, things that are like, Piles of Content Warnings, but I find videos like that are really engaging, since I don't get the experience of those kinds of games otherwise

Along those lines, eurothug4000 has a confusing name but her videos on obscure horror games are also very fun

NewFrame+ is a professional game animator who does excellent overviews of concepts or games that I can't recommend highly enough

Movies/Culture/Miscellaneous

Seconded on FoldingIdeas/Dan Olson, some of the best stuff out there

CJ the X I go back and forth on sometimes in terms of how much I agree with their takes but I can't deny that they are just WILDLY entertaining

SarahZ has always done good work, and I have a strong feeling that if you like Jenny Nicholson you'll like her videos too

Lindsay Ellis doesn't make videos for YouTube anymore but she's foundational to the genre and the videos since probably 2016 or so hold up really well

There's a ton more but a lot of them are on my old YouTube account so I'd have to dig back through to remember them all

Hi chat does anyone have any video essay recommendations 💃✨ Specifically about fun niche nerdy things. By niche nerdy things I mean:

anything Jenny Nicholson has put out (I’m actually subbed to her Patreon!)

super eyepatch wolf has a great video about fake video games that I loved

hbomberguys videos but especially his latest two about plagiarism and about the Roblox oof

That one video where the guy did a speedrun of Mario using what he called “alternate realities” that one is so fun

Anyways comment below 👀 (and if you make video essays you may self promo 🙌)

[gloriousmonsters]

Thoughts on the Twin Jades’ relationship as kids/teens/adults (any of the above or developing over time)

honestly my first thought on the Twin Jades relationship right now is that, unfortunately, I only find the bad/unhealthy/conflict-inducing parts of it interesting. Like, I know that they very much deeply care about each other, but I only find that interesting if it's in a weird fucked up incest codependent way, and usually I only find their conflict enjoyable, so I feel like I tend to focus on/exaggerate negative aspects of their relationship.

with that grain of salt taken, I think that their relationship... ended, in a way, right around WWX's death and all that happened there. They lost trust in each other because it was a huge conflict of what they personally valued (and both of them, imo, have very good reason to be fucked up over the events). They still love each other, and have a sense of duty and family left (to an extent) but it's... more a memory of love rather than active love. Forming a mutually respectful and caring relationship as adults was just not in the cards, what with all the canon events. So to me it's a very tragic thing by the time we see it in present-day canon; the 'Twin Jades' is such a concept, but the substance and truth of that concept is gone.

[lanymme]

God I forgot how good Pokemon Sun and Moon were.

The like. background alolan sovereignty stuff and the frankly startlingly sensitive discussion of child abuse and the way they entertwine? Team Skull being kids failed by the system, and that social ill giving room for the Aether Foundation to sort of push its way in and establish a hold in Alola to "do good"? The fact that the stuff the Aether Foundation is doing is really good work from a certain perspective, but is also disruptive, controlling, and not in alignment with the Alolan way of doing things? Guzma being abused as a kid, and ending up pushed around and manipulated by Lusamine, an abuser herself, who knows how to push his buttons?

The whole subplot of looking for a champion, which probably would've been Kukui or Guzma if their own hero and rival story hadn't been shattered by the stuff that happened to them? Guy whose dad broke golf sticks over him develops a perfectionist obsessed with being strong enough that nobody can beat him again, and constantly proves to himself he's safe by throwing that strength around? The way their relationship starts to repair when those societal problems start to be addressed?

And then Gladion and Lillie. God. The way Gladion is the older child who figured out what was happening first and got out of there, went no contact, and had to do what he could to stay off the street. The way Lillie is just starting to figure out and unpack the things her mother taught her, and beginning to become braver and show more independence? How her fucking mother DRESSED HER UP AS THE NIHILEGO, and then her big moment is to put together her own trainer-like outfit, to start picking her own clothes?? The way Lusamine treats her pokemon with zero humanity but pretties up and preserves them horrifically for show, the way the Aether Foundation is engaging in torturous unethical experimentation, as metaphors for the way she abuses each of her children???

The ways in which Guzma, Gladion, and Lillie all bond with Pokemon that sort of symbolically resonate with the kinds of abuse they received and the way they learned to deal with it--Guzma picking bugs, traditionally the weakest type, and Wimpod who runs from everything--showing the kindness deep down in him, and the way he grew up to be strong. Gladion, whose pokemon was more overtly abused, and evolves through his care into Silvally who can take on any type the way Gladion is forced to learn how to adapt to being by himself, and then to being a member of the community? And Lillie with Nebby, who starts out weak and defenseless, helpless, imprisoned, and escapes despite that and gets by through relying on other people, until she learns to take care of herself--and her buddy evolves into the legendary that defends the Alola Region from alien threats like her mother????

fuck that game was good. it fit so well with the themes and aesthetics of pokemon. I really wish they'd make more like it.

[lullabyes22-blog]

Real talk because you are THE resident Silco expert and all your headcanons are 100% correct: why does fandom think Silco would be good in bed? (Or good at sex at all?)

I've seen headcanons about him being a giver, and about his dick game being fire, and while he's a sexy, charismatic man, I feel like he's too... selfish, insecure, and just not a romantic guy. He's also a very bitter, lonely, and angry dude. Idk, it makes sense he would have some kinks but I feel like he'd be too much of a bitch to care for anyone else in bed. I guess he'd want it rough, and I've read some fics where he's a sadist, but I feel like it'd just be a quick fuck to satisfy himself, not a slow, passionate, sensual thing.

idk, do with this what you will.

I agree - with nuance 💗

Silco - at least as I write him in FNF - is principally a headfuck. If he's demonstrating an interest in you, then he wants something from you. If he's nice to you, there's a bottom line. No act of generosity comes without strings attached, and every small kindness comes at a terrible price. That aspect of cold-blooded calculus is never far away from his base nature, which splits the world into assets and liabilities, and his own actions into a transaction of cost versus reward.

With that in mind, he excels, not at sex, but at getting his partners to do what he wants them to do. For him, it's one of the many fluid ways of expressing power, and demonstrating his mastery over the subtleties of the human body and mind.

A few readers have noticed that he comes across as very detached and controlled during FnF's sex scenes - and that they read as weirdly voyeuristic. That always delights me, because it's an intentional choice. He doesn't really see his partner as anything beyond a medium to his goals, so his focus is entirely on their physical responses and his own actions. His narration is distant, observational and impersonal, because he doesn't experience sex as something that involves an emotional or empathetic connection. Rather, he's gauging how his target's responses play out on a physical plane, and he's calibrating his own actions to maximise their impact.

To give credit where credit is due, he's very intelligent, patient and observant. There is also some realistic backing to the running gag that Good D is invariably attached to Bad Men. More specifically, Bad Broke Men. Silco has not grown up in a position of privilege or wealth. He has been forced to make use of every available resource. He has survived by the skin of his teeth on a constant knife edge of deprivation, hunger and fear.

He's a scrapper. He's a survivor. He's an opportunist.

And to be any of those things, you need to know your way around people: their wants and weaknesses. That's the foundation for the idea that he's good in bed - that he can anticipate his partner's desires, and respond accordingly. The difference is, his actions have no romantic underpinning. It's a matter of pure pragmatism and self-interest.

In terms of technical skill, he's likely very good at finding his partner's pressure points, both literal and figurative, and exploiting them. But if it were up to him, he'd find a way to turn the thumbscrews with nothing more than a well-chosen word and a cold look. The sex is just a generality, and his enjoyment a function of their compliance.

When it comes to actual intimacy?

My friends, he'd be spectacularly bad.

Not just bad, but skittish, hostile and hopelessly inept. He'd feel like an accomplished stage actor who has to step out onto the boards for an improv class. He hasn't got the right lines, he isn't dressed for the part, and he isn't even sure what role he's supposed to be playing. He'd be so awkward, he'd actually have trouble looking his partner in the eyes. The sum total of his sexual ouvre would devolve into the following comedy of errors:

"What the fuck is this?"

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Don't touch me there."

"This is going well, right?"

"Why can't I get it up?"

"I can't do this."

"Leave me alone."

"Where are you going?"

"Don't leave me."

"They always leave me."

"Why does everyone leave me?"

And he'd only spiral deeper into self-loathing and isolation. To submit to intimacy is to open oneself up to the mortifying ordeal of being known, and the constant risk of rejection. To Silco, it is anathema. Actual emotional vulnerability during sex would be not unlike attending his own public execution.

But.

Silco is not a one-note villain, much less a one-trick pony. He has a human history riven in deprivation, bloodshed and betrayal. He's remade himself from a 'weak' man into the premier kingpin of Zaun, but that predatory bracing still hides remnants of the soft-natured idealist he once was. In fact, he's the product of a deeply embedded internal conflict between two distinct versions of himself. The one who seeks to burn his enemies, and the one who seeks to save his city. He's also, as demonstrated by his love for Jinx, capable of profound devotion, loyalty, and a deep-seated longing for companionship.

That means the potential for romance exists. It's just buried deep, deep, deep down beneath years of abuse, neglect, trauma, and self-imposed barriers. If he meets someone who can dismantle those barriers, or bypass them altogether and earn his trust, there is a ray of hope.

Sex would still be frightening and uncomfortable, and it'd involve a lot of trial and error. But it'd also have the potential to be deeply healing. Not because Silco would become a better man, but because his partner would make him want to try. He'd also bring the same intense focus, intelligence, and determination to the task that he applies to his criminal empire - which means that, once he does have his sea legs, Silco would have the potential to become a truly giving lover.

It's all about context.

And the context is always: will he take the gamble when he has nothing to lose, and everything to gain?

[dadvans]

i am just so sad right now. like going into s8 i didn’t think bucktommy would be endgame, but the way s8 started changed my mind, so to have them be literally so in love for 5 episodes straight just to have them break up in the most abrupt way?? it just feels so last minute which is shocking because in the interviews this was apparently a planned thing but it doesn’t feel like it at all. Like if this was a concern Tommy had why didn’t it come up at all? like little throwaway lines of Tommy making jokes of Buck getting sick of him or wanted to explore other options or whatever. I hope the backlash makes them rethink, and Tommy comes back but for now it doesn’t seem like it. I guess my only hope is that Buddie goes canon, but even then i won’t be able to really enjoy it. I seriously don’t know if i’ll be able to keep watching the show, not solely because they broke up, but because of how they broke up. (srry for the long ask, just needed to vent)

no apologies needed!

at the end of the day, so many of us found joy in their story, their chemistry, the way even up until the final second tommy admitted that what he wanted with buck was something that would inevitably break his heart.

they were good together. tommy fit into so many intimidating parts of buck's life with ease. tommy is (as far as we know) still good friends with buck's best friend! tommy loved him anyway, loved him warts and all, road shotgun to buck's worst fears and weirdest conspiracies.

at the end of the day, we have a few things:

we GOT them. we got to see them together, we got the soft looks, we got the kisses, the foundation of them that is real and canon in a way we could strike like a match against the edge of a box to light them up for real all over again. i don't think "being canon" gives any credence or superiority to a ship, and have shipped people or characters that have never interacted/existed together in a tangible way, simply because it's FUN. that's how i'll always have fun with ships and fandom, BUT! what a wonderful thing to celebrate that we DID have them, that we have this as a foundation for whatever comes next, that there is never a door permanently closed to them finding each other again when it was already real from the start

for a lot of us, this isn't how their story ends. it's insane that so much fic and content was produced for a canon ship like this. so often fandom is chasing down the what-ifs and never-hads. a lot of us invested in bucktommy because they had the compatibility, the fit, the chemistry, the potential. that's novel shit! that doesn't just evaporate because they broke up in canon. it certainly hurts. the kind of hype we were surfing will crash and sink back in the oncoming months, but i know talking to a lot of people tonight that we aren't done with this ship. we aren't ready to say goodbye.

i'm sad. i'm angry. i felt a real sense of queer euphoria whenever i saw them together, even for 30 seconds, teetering on the edge of this new couple joy learning each other into something new and weird and fun that always lingered as a promise on the edge of their interactions. i was so excited for who buck could become with tommy as his home base. shifting that has rocked me in a bad way.

i expect people to inevitably step away from this ship and this fandom, but i'll mention that non-canon ships like arthur/eames or mcshep or social network rpf or short-lived shows from 1996 (hi sentinel) have had long-lived fandoms and left long-lasting impressions in other fandoms that have lasted for over a decade of zero additional content. this is a playground that, just because they've parted ways for now, we don't have to stop playing in.

and i'll be honest: i have several WIPs i'm like, well trash that! after watching the most recent episode. but i also have a dozen new ideas. new ways they could fall in love now or again, new ways they could meet, new ways they could be for each other.

i'll keep creating. i'll keep dreaming. they won't ever not have the spark that they had. the show could end tomorrow but we'll always have an open door to believing and shaping the thousands of ways they can and will find each other again.

[theafterglow83]

Stray thoughts from an unhinged mind caused by a song called Robin

Since my teens, I have always been a Karlie Kloss fan. No amount of vitriol from the Swifty’s has ever strayed or strained my conviction that Karlie is on many levels, and aside from being absolutely gorgeous, a better human being than Taylor Swift.

By that I mean she seems to project a warmth and a level of kindness and humanity out into the world that is so pure and honest, when compared to Taylors, sometimes vengeful and darker persona ~as well as her being Queen Mother to one of the worlds most vindictive and exhausting cults who would gladly fillet anyone at “Mother’s “ request. Taylor (the brand) has made a career and a fortune from feeding her tales of romantic misfortune and presumed ex lovers to her hungry mob with merchandise to match.

Karlie on the other hand has a nurturing and supportive side to her and don’t let her beautiful and seductive exterior fool you for below that sultry surface she gives off a warm and fuzzy golden vibe- like a puppy. She’s sophisticated, highly intelligent, NYC chic and street smart , often silly and maturing like fine wine while somehow becoming more beautiful as she ages. She also appears to be one Hell of a good mother to those babies.

All that being said about their personalities is exactly why I believe Karlie’s sunshine is the perfect match for Taylor and her moody, broken, impulsive ,often over indulgent, midnight rain personality. Not only are they equal in status - they have a Yin Yang balance to them - Only that sunshine can dry up the rain in Taylor .

I’ll continue.

While listening to songs off of the TTPD I was stopped dead in my tracks when I came to the song, Robin. I listened three times and found a tear rolling down my right cheek. I was choked up and the tiny hairs on my arms stood up . To say I was moved would be an understatement. There was something so raw, so pure and so loving in those lyrics. I had to sit with my thoughts for a while but I feel the need to share them now among those who i consider “my people”.

The Kaylors.

Sidebar confession: Yes, I’m a Kaylor.

I firmly believe Taylor Swift, and Karlie Kloss had a long running romantic relationship. They were more than friends. They were lovers too. The level of denial it takes to doubt that is astonishing. It wasn’t just Kissgate that sealed the deal. It’s the way those two looked at each other and communicated in a secret language all their own. They were deeply in love.

I believe it all started prior to the public meet up at the VS Fashion Show and even long before the “your kitchen or mine cookie “tweet.

I believe Taylor and Karlie first met when Taylor was showing up at fashion shows that Karlie was walking in as far back as 2009. Where they had a relationship then? Probably not because they were both involved with others but the sparks were flying. Thats when the foundation was laid. The attraction was there. The seeds planted. Destiny and the Universe did the rest.

Think Love Story lyrics

“We were both young when I first saw you” which I believe Taylor wrote about Karlie and which also happens to be Karlies favorite song. I believe they had an ongoing relationship that continued on until late 2017-early 2018 and then I believe something happened and they broke up, as many long-term relationships often do. My guts tell me it was cheating and it was on Taylor’s part and the regret from that will haunt Taylor for her entire life because it caused the trajectory of their path to change.

Karlie married in 2018 yet many speculate they were still together and the unofficial story is the real trouble actually came in mid 2019.

Taylor was furious over the masters, fingers were pointing everywhere, cheating rumors flew. This entire story certainly has all the drama of a Netflix series that could easily do 8 seasons

There’s so much more to this Masters incident than the public is aware of. Also the fact that Josh’s families company ~ the Carlisle Group provided the funding to Scooter is an often overlooked storyline.

Was Taylor angry at Karlie for that but how could Karlie control that if she was even in that loop of that drama. Or~ was there more -because in any good mystery - there’s always several layers more .

What did Scooter have to leverage getting that kind of money from them to buy the masters? Being Karlie’s manager at the time perhaps he has something on her or Taylor or both of them and used it as that leverage . It’s a whole other rabbit hole that I don’t have time to visit right now but regardless Taylor is still angry about to this very day which tells me it goes way deeper and my gut feeling is that Taylor’s dad was the one involved with knowing things and not Karlie Kloss who got fed to the sharks over the situation.

So I’m going on record here saying I never believed Karlie had anything to do with Masters Heist. I believe that story was used as an explanation to explain their separation. I know there’s a whole other level of messy lore involving this and a love blackout and Trumps election and Karlie’s association with the Kushner’s but I’m going to skip over that season and move on -except to say that it was absolutely shameful the level of hate Karlie was forced to endure because of that and still her sun shinned while she was being made the villain online and much of it still continues to this day. At any point during that scandal Karlie could have spoken out but she didn’t. She quietly took one for the team.

I’m not going to pretend that I know what happened during that murky period or what is happening now - because honestly -I do not…but there have been a strange set clues and way too many “koincidences to simply chalk up to being coincidences.

It’s just a gut feeling but I also don’t believe their connection went fully went away or ever will for that matter. They are and will forever be tied together even in the times they are apart but I kinda think they reunited ( again) in early to mid 2020.

I’ve read all the theories. I’ve heard all the rumors ,I’ve been to the rabbit hole, I’ve climbed out, I’ve fallen back in, and most days now you’ll find me sitting on the edge dangling my feet still and kinda wondering. I live my life ~ they live theirs.

So am I a LSK?

No, not really, but some days …ok, maybe. You see for as much as I try to say no…there’s just this tiny string I can’t help but see so I keep my feet planted on the ground but my mind open.

By open I mean open to the possibility that Taylor and Karlie are in one of those kind of “relationships” where as hard as they try ~they just can’t seem to quit each other and they go through periods of on and off times. “pauses” is what I like to call the brakes or bumps along the way. You know that couple that’s over but they’re never really over ?

Where are they now? I have no idea.

Taylor has another year of touring and promoting and probably Travis. My money says Taylor Swift will be the halftime show at next years Super Bowl.

Karlie, along with her modeling contacts ( Carolina Herrera, Estée Lauder, Donna Karen etc ) is venturing into the business world. Along with running Kode with Klossy, she’s CEO of her newly formed media company. She bought I-D magazine and also Life magazine, which Josh also invested in , this year. She’s got a lot on her plate

Yes, Karlie is married but is she really married in the traditional sense of what we all consider marriage to be? On the surface, yes… but once again- the layers and the lore here is incredible.

What a character she’d be on that Netflix show I imagine in my head . Just give her an Emmy already.

Does she love Josh? I’m absolutely sure she does- but the real question is…is she IN love with Josh? You know- romantic love -which, I as an observer ~don’t believe she is or ever has been. You can just kinda tell and no matter how many pictures she posts the connection just isn’t there and whenever I see her with her beautiful babies (even if he’s in the photo) she gives off that “ single mother vibe “

That level of chemistry, no matter how the pictures are posed~ or the hand in hand walks are staged -the passion ~ the look in their eyes - it just isn’t there and honestly it never was.

They have always given off that bff energy and frankly ~ Karlie’s friendship with her “big brother “ Derek actually feels more real, relaxed and genuine.Then there are the gay rumors ( past and present) surrounding their entire little multiverse ~but we won’t go into them right now either. We’d be here all night.

And yes, Taylor has had her share of public relationships but have they been real? Have they had their moments? probably. Did some become more than PR for a brief period of time. Possibly She’s been linked to everyone she even walks by or talks to but somehow it all pales and fades in time. I’m sure there have been flings along the way but flings don’t fly and usually run their course in that 9 1/2 week period that flings seem to take.

If I’m being honest, as I observe from the treetops all of Taylor’s relationships and Karlies relationship with Josh, they never reach the level of the real connection and happiness that I saw between Taylor and Karlie. That’s something you just can’t fake or reproduce with another .

Whatever is going on with Travis is so cringey and sadly embarrassing.I tend to think it’s PR but if it’s real then he truly is her obnoxious karma and karma isn’t usually a good thing. But hey the moneys good. Maybe they’ll even get lavender married so she can stay in her closet and continue to throw red meat to the $wifties.

The future is yet unwritten.

All that being said, I’ll get back to my original point of this ramble and that’s a song called Robin.

So yes, I’ve heard the rumors, I’ve read the theories, I’ve seen photographs of visual evidence. Karlie Kloss was in Los Angeles during the pandemic, the same place where Taylor was in fort part of 2020. When she returned to NYC if you count the months - she was pregnant even if she didn’t look it. I also believe Karlie was there in the shadows during the Long Pond Studio recordings in Upstate NY. Jack kind of gave it away when he referenced “Joe the dog” as being who he thought Taylor was talking about when she said “ Joe and I wrote a song”

I’ve also heard the rumor that there was a ceremony between them that they tried to pass off as a ceremony between Taylor and Joe which Tree later denied that there was ever a ceremony of “any type”.

Ok buckle up because here it comes

I’ve seen the “turkey baster”( IVF ) post that Karlie made. Like who uses a turkey baster in May? What an odd thing to do unless you were signaling an IVF pregnancy situation. Regardless ~ she was extremely happy that day.

I’ve seen the cinnamon buns post ( think the expression “buns in the oven ) that Taylor made a few days later back in May 2020. She was “proud” of her cinnamon buns.

Happy & proud …hum

Is that a crazy set of coincidences? Hand on whatever holy book you set before me ~ I’d have to say “yes”

And it’s Absolutely crazy considering the fact that Levi was born a little over nine months later.

Add in the fact of how emotional Taylor got accepting her Grammy for Folklore when Arron thanked his “ wife and kids “during the acceptance speech.

For a few moments there you could feel the raw emotion in her as she nearly burst into tears andJack tried to console her. Blonde was gutted. It cut deep.

Sidebar:

Yes Aaron has a son named Robin but he’s 9 years old and other than the name cleverly used for gentle cover of the truth in case damage control is ever needed~ there is no connection to that child or a secret, no showmanship to cover it up or anything that would make Taylor react as she did. Other than his name there is no connection to the words in the song

But the fact that Levi’s birth was announced during the Grammys absolutely does connect.

So I’ll just put a pin in that and move on.

Listening to that ballad yesterday rocked my entire world . It was so soft, gentle and living. So heart wrenching that I just let my emotions flow through me as my mind wandered back gathering and processing all the previous rumors and lore I had heard along the way. It left me rattled as it tumbled through memories. Could it all have been true?

So now I’m just gonna say it out loud running the risk of being attacked and also sounding like a supermarket tabloid…here goes “could Levi be Karlie’s and Taylor’s child?”

I know it sounds crazy…secret love child but …

I’m not trying to out anyone and I want to respect the fact that a child is involved here. Honestly I had second and third thoughts about posting this but if I’m being real ~ it’s also a collective of things that have been shared openly about Taylor and Karlie here for years. Somehow the song was like a puzzle piece that snapped into place.

…those loving words ,the emotion in Taylor‘s voice as she sings about her strong heartfelt attachment to a young toddler, as she encourages him in being wild and free in his wonder years, playing with abandon and roaring at the dinosaurs~

There was real love in those words

.

.

Looking out his window over his kingdom (NYC) and speaking gibberish

She also advocates for him keeping his innocence for as long as possible and then speaks of a secret that a inner circle of people have chosen to keep from him” in sweetness” to protect him and the “showmanship” to cover up that secret that he has no idea of.

And as she watches his unabashed play in his toddler purity she prophesies there will come a time in the future when the world he faces will have harsh words for him and she reminds him that he will bounce back like he now does on his trampoline.

“ and you have no idea

Buried down deep and out of your reach

the secret we all vowed

to keep it from you in sweetness

strings tied to levers

slowed down clocks tethers

all the showman ship

to keep it from you in sweetness

way to go, tiger

I’m not crying , you are and Levi looks just like his mommy 🤍

.

Let’s keep this in the family ✌️🤍🏳️‍🌈

God I love this show .

Stay tuned for next season

[oosa3x]

secret moments (rd3)

i. crowded room

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆.˚✮˚.⋆. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

pairing: ruben dias x f! celebrity! reader word count: 15, 334 author’s note: i don’t want to butcher the portuguese language so the conversations between Bernardo and Rúben that are italicized are meant to be them speaking in portuguese

The soft hum of his alarm clock broke the stillness of the early morning in Rúben’s apartment. He silenced it swiftly, though he’d been awake well before it rang. Morning light filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, gently outlining the familiar shapes of his bedroom.

Rúben slid out of bed, his movements precise. The air was cool against his skin as he made his way to the kitchen, where his breakfast was already laid out from the night before. Everything in his apartment had its place—meticulous, clean, always smelling faintly of fresh linens and his cologne.

After setting his breakfast aside, he retrieved the yoga mat he kept neatly tucked in a cabinet. As he began to stretch, he felt the familiar tension in his muscles, the lingering ache from yesterday’s training. It was a good ache, the kind that reminded him of the hard work he put in every day, pushing his body to its limits, knowing it was all moving him closer to his goals.

Routine was the foundation of his days. A light breakfast, a run to clear his mind, and then training—everything had its order. For Rúben, success on the pitch was built on the discipline off of it. There was comfort in knowing how his day would unfold, especially in the quiet hours before the city stirred.

His phone buzzed on the counter—a message from Pep, reminding the team about the tactical meeting. Rúben appreciated the attention to detail; it was part of why they thrived as a unit. Every action, no matter how small, contributed to their success. He downed a ginger shot, tossed the bottle in the recycling, and scrolled through his notifications. Among the usual fan messages and match updates was a photo from his mother—a picture of their dog, Simba, back home. It grounded him, a small but meaningful reminder of how much head sacrificed to be here, how much his family had sacrificed. A reminder of why he worked so hard despite his success.

He grabbed his gear and laced up his shoes, already mentally rehearsing the day’s drills and strategies. Training wasn’t just preparation—it was where the real work happened, where his mind and body sharpened for the match ahead. Every minute spent here was another layer of assurance that when he stepped onto the pitch, there would be no doubts.

The engine of his car hummed softly as he pulled out onto the mostly empty streets. He enjoyed the rare moments of solitude, away from the noise of fans and cameras. He didn’t mind the attention, but these quiet drives were a welcome break from the constant buzz of his life.

As he approached the training ground, his thoughts shifted to the upcoming game. It was still days away, but already, he could visualize the plays, the movement of his teammates, the precision of every pass. In his mind, everything was neatly ordered, just like the rest of his life.

He arrived at the facility, nodding at the familiar security guard as he pulled in. A few other early risers were already there, the floodlights casting long shadows across the pristine grass. Another day of preparation awaited him, and he was ready.

As he stepped out of the car, the fresh smell of the field greeted him. It was still damp from the morning dew, and the air held that crisp, earthy scent that only came from a freshly watered pitch. His pulse quickened slightly, a sense of anticipation building inside him. This was his space, where everything came together.

Inside the locker room, Rúben went through his pre-training ritual—changing into his kit, securing his shin pads, lacing up his boots with the same precision he approached everything else. There were a few words exchanged with his teammates as they trickled in, but mostly, the room was filled with the quiet buzz of focus. Everyone knew why they were there.

Pep’s tactical meeting was as detailed as ever, going over each phase of play, how they’d move the ball, the patterns they’d create. Rúben absorbed it all, visualizing each scenario, mentally placing himself in position, anticipating the flow of the game before it even happened. Pep spoke with purpose, his passion for the game evident in every word, and it was contagious.

When they finally stepped onto the pitch, Rúben could feel the energy shift. The drills began, muscle memory taking over as they worked through their warm-ups and exercises. Each movement was calculated, each pass sharp, each tackle precise. This was where he honed his craft, where every little detail mattered.

And as the sun climbed higher in the sky, bathing the training ground in light, Rúben felt the familiar rhythm of the day settle into place. It was just another training session, but to him, it was everything. Each moment, each drop of sweat, each burst of energy was a step toward something bigger. Toward the next match, the next victory, the next piece of silverware.

When training wrapped up, and the team headed back inside, Rúben stayed a little longer. He liked to take a few extra minutes to work on his own, refining the small details that only he noticed. It was part of what made him who he was, part of why he’d made it this far.

As he gathered his things and headed back toward the locker room, he heard footsteps behind him, "Hey, Rúben," Bernardo called out, his voice light with its usual upbeat tone, "You want to come over for dinner tonight? Ines is cooking, and she’s been wanting to try this new recipe. You know she’s gonna ask if you’re coming."

Rúben smiled as he adjusted the strap on his bag, "Sounds tempting," he replied, slowing down so Bernardo could catch up, "But I’ve actually got plans tonight. Heading to a concert."

"A concert?" Bernardo raised an eyebrow, clearly curious, "Since when do you have time for concerts? Who’s playing?"

"6lack," Rúben said with a shrug, "We connected on Instagram a while back and he messaged me the other day, and invited me and thought, why not? Haven’t been to one in a while, and I like his music.”

Bernardo’s eyes lit up in recognition, "6lack? Sounds fun. Alright, but you’re missing out on Ines’s cooking, just so you know. You better make up for it."

Rúben chuckled, "I’ll send my apologies to Inês. I’m sure I’ll hear about it next time. But yeah, I’m looking forward to it. Should be a good break from all of this."

Bernardo gave him a playful nudge, "Just don’t get too wild. We’ve got training tomorrow."

"Never," Rúben shot back, shaking his head, "You know me."

"Too well," Bernardo grinned, "Alright, man, enjoy the concert. I’ll tell Ines you’re off the hook—for now."

With that, Bernardo headed off, leaving Rúben to finish packing up. As he made his way out of the training ground, he couldn’t help but feel a little excitement building for the night ahead. Football might be his world, but sometimes, stepping out of it for a while felt just as important.

Rúben headed home, ready to switch gears for the night. The drive back to his apartment was smooth, the traffic not yet too thick. A concert would be a nice change of pace, and it wasn’t often that his schedule allowed him the chance to enjoy something like this.

The first thing he did when he got back to his apartment was head straight for the shower. The hot water hit his skin, easing the tension in his muscles from the day’s training. He closed his eyes, letting the steam rise around him, savoring the moment of peace. He had a routine for everything, and unwinding after a day on the pitch was no exception. The shower helped wash away the lingering intensity of the drills, the tactical sessions, the endless focus.

Once he was out, he wrapped a towel around his waist and padded to his bedroom, the scent of his shower gel lingering in the air. His wardrobe, like the rest of his apartment, was meticulously organized. He picked out a sleek black shirt and paired it with a camo green Louis Vuitton jacket—casual but sharp enough for the occasion. Concerts were low-key, but Rúben liked to look put together, even off the pitch. After slipping into a pair of well-fitted jeans and comfortable sneakers, he checked himself in the mirror.

Satisfied, he grabbed his phone, keys, and wallet, then headed for the door and made his way down to the garage. The city was more alive than it had been that morning, the streets buzzing with activity. As he drove toward the concert venue, he could already feel a different kind of energy building in him—a mix of anticipation and excitement. It wasn’t the same as the buzz he got before a match, but it was close.

The venue came into view, lights glowing against the backdrop of the darkening sky. People were already lined up outside, the hum of conversation filling the air as fans gathered, all of them there for the same reason. He parked his car and made his way toward the entrance. He adjusted his jacket, pulling it down just a little lower to shield himself from the cold, and made his way toward the VIP entrance. Security at the door checked his name off the list quickly, allowing him to bypass the crowd outside. Just as he was about to slip through the door, a voice called out from behind him.

"Rúben! Is that you?"

He turned slightly, spotting a young fan standing a few feet away, holding out her phone hopefully. She looked nervous, almost shy as she approached him.

"Can I—uh—can I get a photo? Please? I’m a huge fan.”

Rúben offered a warm smile, the kind he always gave when people recognized him, despite the effort he’d put into staying low-key tonight, "Sure, absolutely." he said, stepping over to her.

Her face lit up as she quickly held her phone out for a selfie. Rúben leaned in just enough, flashing a quick, polite smile as she snapped the picture, "Thank you so much," she gushed, her voice filled with excitement.

"No problem," he replied with a smile, "Enjoy the concert."

With a quick nod to the security at the VIP entrance, he was escorted through a maze of hallways behind the stage. The sound of the crowd’s distant cheers and the thrum of the bass grew fainter as he made his way toward the backstage area. He found a spot near the bar, ordering a bottle of water as he settled in, glancing out toward the stage.

As the lights dimmed even further and the crowd's excitement grew, a text lit up Rúben’s phone. He glanced down at the message—it was from one of 6lack’s team members, letting him know that he could come backstage before the show kicked off. Rúben hadn’t expected the opportunity to meet up before the performance, but the invitation was too good to pass up.

Rúben and 6lack—Ricardo— had been connected online for a while—liking each other’s posts, occasionally exchanging messages about football or music. It was the kind of casual friendship that felt normal in the digital age, though they had never actually met in person until now.

When he reached the backstage area, he saw Ricardo standing near a table with a few members of his team, looking calm and focused as he prepared for the show. His signature laid-back demeanor was apparent, even as people bustled around him with last-minute adjustments and preparations.

“Rúben!” Ricardo called out when he saw him, a grin spreading across his face. He crossed the room with an easy swagger, extending a hand, "Good to finally meet in person, bro."

Rúben smiled, shaking his hand firmly, "Likewise. I’ve been looking forward to this."

"Man, I’m glad you could make it tonight. I know you’ve got a busy schedule, but I had to make sure you were here for this one," Ricardo said, his tone genuine.

Rúben nodded, taking in the relaxed vibe of the backstage crew, "I wasn’t gonna miss it. Been a fan of your music for a while. It’s a good break from the usual football grind."

Ricardo chuckled, "I hear that. I’ve seen you killing it out there, though. Respect for what you do on the field."

"I appreciate that so much, man." Rúben agreed, feeling a sense of mutual respect, "I’ve got to say, you’ve got the whole place buzzing. People are ready for this show."

Ricardo grinned, nodding toward the stage, "That’s what I like to hear. I’ve got some surprises for tonight, so it should be a good one. Maybe after the show, we’ll kick it a bit, yeah?"

"Definitely," Rúben replied, feeling more at ease. The conversation flowed naturally, as if they’d known each other for longer than just a few online exchanges.

Just then, one of the crew members signaled to Ricardo that it was almost time to go on stage. Ricardo gave Rúben a nod, "Alright, man, I’ve got to get out there and do my thing. I’ll catch you after?"

"Go kill it out there," Rúben said with a smile, "I’ll be watching."

With a final fist bump, Ricardo disappeared into the bustling chaos of the stage preparations, leaving Rúben to head back to his spot on the VIP balcony. As he made his way back, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement. Meeting Ricardo in person had felt easy, natural—like they were already on the same wavelength.

As 6lack’s intro music filled the arena and the lights dimmed even further, Rúben found himself fully immersed in the atmosphere. The view of the stage was incredible—he could see the entire audience, their hands raised, voices chanting. He glanced around the venue, soaking in the view. From the balcony, he had the perfect vantage point: a sea of swaying bodies, phone lights twinkling like stars, and the stage illuminated with flashes of neon and smoke.

Rúben was fully immersed in the music, his voice joining in with the crowd as he sang along to 6lack's opening track. It felt almost surreal—singing along to his favorite artist from such a prime spot. He was in his own world when a tap on his shoulder pulled him back to reality.

A member of Ricardo’s team stood there, leaning in close to be heard over the booming music, "Hey, Ricky asked for us to get you. He said wants you to watch from over there."

His crew member pointed down to where the side stage area was. Rúben blinked, surprised for a moment, before nodding with a smile. Watching from the side stage wasn’t something he’d expected, but the opportunity was too good to pass up. He gave a final glance at the crowd below, taking in the view one last time from the VIP balcony before following the staff member down a stairway.

As they moved through the backstage corridors, the distant roar of the crowd filled the air, but the atmosphere felt different now—more intimate, a behind-the-scenes glimpse of the magic.

As he got closer to the stage, Rúben could feel the bass thumping through his chest as Ricardo’s voice filled the room, effortlessly weaving between tracks that had become anthems for so many people in the audience. From his spot on the side, Rúben could see it all—the connection between the artist and the fans, the passion in Ricardo’s performance. He had a deep appreciation for the creativity that Ricardo put into his music, but witnessing it live, up close, was something else entirely. It reminded him of the way he approached football—the hours of work, the attention to detail, the desire to give his best every time.

The concert flowed seamlessly, and Rúben was glad he’d taken Ricardo up on his offer. The side-stage view felt intimate, like he was part of the performance itself, rather than just a spectator. It was the perfect balance of being in the thick of the action without the distraction of the crowd around him.

He was still immersed in the rhythm of the concert, but he could feel his pulse quicken when his eyes locked onto you—Y/N L/N. In that moment, the world around him seemed to slow down, the music fading slightly as his attention zeroed in on your presence.

You were otherworldly, like you didn’t quite belong to this reality but floated just above it. Your beauty wasn’t something that could be contained; it radiated from you like a soft, glowing aura. It was impossible for him to look away. You wore a sleek, body-hugging gray mini dress that contrasted beautifully with the black of your sheer tights and pointed heels. A long leather coat flowed behind you, adding an edge to the soft elegance of your look.

He noticed you casually handing your clutch to a man standing next to you, your fingers brushing against his arm with a brief familiarity. Then, with a slow, effortless movement, you shrugged off your jacket, letting it fall into the man’s hands. Your dress clung to your frame more visibly now, every curve and line accentuated in the soft lighting of the venue.

It was then that someone approached you from behind, efficiently securing a mic pack to the back of your dress and handing you a pair of in-ears. The transition was seamless, as if you had done this a thousand times before. No hesitation, no fuss—just an easy, practiced routine that hinted at your professionalism.

Rúben’s eyes widened as he realized you weren't just here to enjoy the show; you were about to take the stage. His heart skipped a beat, suddenly seeing you in a completely different light. As the tech stepped away, you rolled your shoulders slightly, adjusting the in-ears, and for a brief moment, your gaze seemed to lock on him—just for a heartbeat—and he swore the room tilted. His chest tightened, and he quickly looked away, feeling an odd mix of nerves and admiration rise within him. The casual ease with which you transitioned from guest to artist was captivating.

The lights in the venue dimmed, signaling the start of your surprise appearance, and the crowd began to buzz with excitement. The anticipation was palpable. Rúben could feel the energy shift in the room, every head turning toward the stage, every heartbeat seemingly in sync, waiting for you. He had watched countless performances before, but something about this moment felt different. Special.

The lights dimmed, and the familiar opening chords of your song with Ricardo began to pulse through the venue. The crowd's energy shifted, rising in anticipation. Then, Ricardo’s voice boomed through the speakers, introducing you with reverence, "Manchester, Y/N L/N!"

Rúben swore the crowd broke the sound barrier.

A sea of cheers erupted, vibrating through the air as every spotlight in the venue honed in on the center of the stage, creating a single, glowing path just for you. And then, as if the entire room held its breath, you appeared.

You strutted onto the stage, owning every inch of it, your body moving in perfect rhythm with the beat of the music. The lights danced around you, casting a radiant halo over your silhouette, and with each sway of your hips, you commanded the room. The sensuality of your movements was undeniable—each step deliberate, each shift in your body fluid, and the way the light caught you in motion felt almost like a performance in itself.

You moved like the music was part of you, like you were born for the stage. Every person in that room—Rúben included—was transfixed, lost in the hypnotic allure of your presence. There was something almost electric in the air, as if the entire venue had been waiting for this exact moment, for you.

Rúben couldn’t take his eyes off you. The stage lights flickered across you, illuminating you in soft, warm tones. Your presence on stage was nothing short of mesmerizing. You hadn’t even sung a single note yet, and still, you commanded every inch of the room. The ethereal glow that surrounded you only seemed to amplify under the stage lights, casting you in an almost celestial light.

And then, you began to sing and it sucked all the air out of his lungs.

Your voice was like velvet, rich and smooth, effortlessly drawing everyone in. Rúben’s heart raced as your voice flowed over the crowd, wrapping around him like a spell.

As the performance continued, he found himself unable to tear his gaze away. It wasn’t just the sound of your voice or the way you moved—it was the way you seemed to pour your soul into every note, as if each word held a piece of your story. There was a vulnerability in your performance, something deeply personal that you were sharing with everyone, yet somehow it felt like it was meant just for him.

He knew people talked about your beauty all the time, but seeing you, hearing you live... it was something else entirely.

He’d seen you on TV before, had heard your voice on the radio—who hadn’t? Y/N L/N was a household name, known across the world. There wasn’t a person who hadn’t come across your face on a magazine cover or heard your songs while flipping through stations. You were everywhere, larger than life, a global icon.

Yet seeing you so close, just a few steps away, made everything he thought he knew about you seem small. The screen, the photos—they hadn’t done you any justice. Your presence in the flesh, on that stage, was overwhelming. It wasn’t just your beauty, though that was undeniable—it was the way you held the room, the effortless way you commanded every ounce of attention. You were absolutely magnetic.

As the song reached its final notes, your voice soared effortlessly, filling the room with a richness that could only be appreciated fully in person. The crowd was completely under your spell, swaying with your every word, every beat. The way you moved on stage, so fluid and at ease, made it seem like the music itself was flowing through your veins.

With one final, powerful note, the song ended, and the entire venue erupted into applause and cheers. The sound was deafening. Rúben felt the vibration of it in his chest, as if the entire room had come alive in a collective wave of admiration for you.

Ricardo stepped forward, a broad smile on his face as he raised his microphone, "Give it up one more time for Y/N L/N!” His voice boomed over the crowd, but the audience was already screaming, unable to contain their excitement.

You glowed under the spotlight, gave a small, graceful bow, your smile wide and full of gratitude. You turned to Ricardo, hugging him tightly as he whispered something in your ear that made you laugh. Then you faced the crowd once more, your eyes shining as you lifted your hand to your lips and blew a kiss into the sea of fans.

“Thank you, Manchester!” Your voice rang out, as bright as the lights that framed you. The crowd roared in response, a few people calling out your name. You gave one final wave before stepping off the stage, leaving behind an electric energy that still buzzed in the air, as if the room hadn’t quite caught up to the fact that you were gone.

Rúben remained rooted to his spot, his heart still pounding. He kept his eyes on you as you reached the same side of the stage you had come out from, your figure still glowing from the energy of the performance. You were greeted by a few people waiting in the wings, who embraced you with wide smiles and excited exchanges. There was a warmth in your interactions, something genuine that caught Rúben off guard. Despite your otherworldly presence on stage, you were undeniably human in these small moments—laughing and hugging the crew like they were family.

He watched you brush your hand through your ponytail, still catching your breath from the performance, an easy grace radiating off of you. As you spoke to those around you, your body language was relaxed, your joy contagious, even from afar. Every now and then, you glanced back toward the crowd, waving one last time to the fans still cheering your name.

Rúben’s heart thudded harder in his chest. He had no reason to feel this way—he’d seen celebrities before, met people with immense fame, maybe not your level of fame, but close enough. Yet, something about you lingered with him, even now. You hadn’t just performed; you’d given a piece of yourself to the crowd, and in doing so, had taken a part of him with you. He tried to refocus on Ricardo’s performance, the deep bass of the music vibrating through the floor as the show seemed to be nearing its end. But no matter how hard he concentrated, his attention kept slipping. He couldn’t help it, his eyes kept drifting back to you.

You had settled back in on the side of the stage, casual and composed, your earlier energy from the performance still faintly lingering around you. In your hand, you held a drink that looked like a vodka cranberry, the deep red liquid catching the stage lights just enough to shimmer. You took a slow sip, as if you hadn’t just captivated an entire room minutes before.

Rúben suddenly felt an inexplicable urge to know more about you stirring within him. You were relaxed now, chatting with those around you, completely at ease. It was a stark contrast to the fierce presence you commanded on stage, yet equally captivating. He found himself wondering how you managed to effortlessly switch between those worlds—public and private—without missing a beat.

Rúben shook himself out of it, realizing he was staring. He chuckled softly, embarrassed at how easily he had been captivated by your presence. But then again, who wouldn’t be? This was Y/N L/N—the woman who made headlines just by walking down the street, who set trends without trying. He was just one person among many who couldn’t help but be drawn in by your charm.

As Rúben's eyes wandered over to you again, he noticed someone else—a familiar face standing beside you. It took him a second to place her, but then he remembered: it was Ricardo’s girlfriend, the one he’d met backstage for a brief moment. You were both laughing together, exchanging a few words between songs, your heads leaning in close as if sharing a private joke.

You both looked like you were having a great time, completely at ease in each other’s company. It was clear that you two were friends, and your bond seemed natural, like you’d known each other for years. Rúben watched as you sang along to another track. The sight of you two together like this made you seem that much more grounded, more human. You weren't just the unattainable star everyone knew; you were someone with friendships, someone who could relax and enjoy a night out like anyone else. It made you even more fascinating to him, seeing this side of you—the side that was rarely captured by the media.

As Rúben leaned against the side railing, letting the music thrum in the background, he caught a whisper from the group of people standing nearby.

“She really killed it tonight,” one of them said, admiration thick in their tone, "But honestly, she always does.”

“Yeah, but this one felt different, right? Like she was putting everything out there,” another added, their eyes following your movements, "She’s been through a lot lately.”

Rúben’s brow furrowed slightly. He knew the press had a habit of magnifying every part of your life, but he hadn’t paid close attention to the specifics. Now, hearing those words—"she’s been through a lot"—he felt a strange, protective instinct rise within him.

He let his eyes drift back to you. You were laughing now, tipping your head back as you clinked glasses with someone beside you. The media only ever showed pieces of you— the glamorous parts, the scandalous headlines. But standing here, watching you from the edge of the room, Rúben felt like he was seeing something more—something the world didn’t often get to witness.

As the final song echoed through the venue and Ricardo’s deep, melodic voice faded out, the crowd erupted into cheers. The energy in the room was electric, a palpable buzz of excitement from a performance that had exceeded expectations. Rúben glanced toward the side stage, where the crew was already preparing to draw the curtains. Ricardo and his band gave a wave and bow to the crowd as the curtains reached the bottom. His face lit up with a satisfied smile, before turning and heading offstage. Rúben could see him immediately spot his girlfriend and you, who were still standing on the opposite side, clearly enjoying the show until the very last moment.

Without hesitation, Ricardo made his way toward both of you, his pace relaxed but purposeful. He enveloped his girlfriend in a warm hug, exchanging a few quiet words with her, before turning to you with an easy grin. You greeted him with the kind of familiarity that spoke of years of friendship, giving him a playful punch on the arm before you all broke into laughter. Rúben couldn’t hear what you were saying, but the vibe between you was unmistakable—comfortable, close, and full of genuine affection.

As the stage crew dismantled equipment and the audience slowly filtered out of the venue, Ricardo motioned for you and his girlfriend to follow him backstage, clearly intent on keeping the night going. It seemed like an after-party of sorts was about to unfold, something more intimate, away from the chaos of the concert.

Rúben watched as the three of you disappeared behind the curtain, a small group of your close friends and team trailing behind. For a moment, he debated whether he should just head home, let the night end on a high note, but before he could decide, the same crew member who came to get him, appeared at his side.

"Yo, Ricardo wanted to make sure you come back and join us," the guy said with a friendly grin, "We’re all hanging out backstage for a bit, nothing too wild."

Rúben hesitated for just a second, but the idea of spending more time in that laid-back, off-the-clock vibe felt too good to pass up. He nodded, offering a quick smile, "Yeah, I’m in."

With that, he followed the crew member through the maze of corridors that led to the backstage lounge area. The atmosphere back there was completely different from the buzzing concert crowd outside. It was more intimate, the lights softer, and there was a relaxed, celebratory vibe in the air.

When he entered the lounge, Ricardo was already there with his arm slung casually around his girlfriend, deep in conversation with you, who was laughing at something one of their friends had said. Drinks were being passed around, and there was music playing at a low volume, enough to keep the energy up but not overpowering the conversation.

Rúben caught Ricardo’s eye as he stepped in, and the singer immediately waved him over, "Rúben, man! Glad you made it," he called out, his voice full of warmth.

As Rúben joined the group, he suddenly found himself standing just a few feet from you. Up close, you were even more striking, your smile infectious as you bantered effortlessly with the people around you. For the first time that night, Rúben felt a flicker of nerves.

You glanced over at him, your eyes bright and curious. For a second, your gazes locked, and though it was brief, it was enough to feel the weight of your presence, how naturally you commanded attention even when you weren't trying to.

"Looks like we’ve got the whole crew here now," Ricardo said with a grin, clearly in good spirits as the group gathered closer, "Let’s keep the night going!"

As Rúben settled into the relaxed atmosphere of the backstage gathering, someone from the crew handed him a drink. He accepted it with a polite nod but quickly swapped it out for a glass of water garnished with a lime wedge instead, not really in the mood for alcohol. He took in a small sip, and glanced around at everyone mingling.

Despite all the movement around him, Rúben’s gaze kept flickering back to you, yet again. You were still deep in conversation with Ricardo’s girlfriend, your laughter filling the air every now and then. You looked so at ease, your eyes lighting up as you talked, you drink in hand as you leaned in closer to hear what someone was saying. He couldn’t help but be drawn to you again and again, fascinated by your energy and the way you seemed to move through the space like you belonged there, without trying to demand the attention that naturally gravitated toward you.

Rúben was mid-sip, his gaze once again flicking over to you, when he felt a presence beside him. He turned slightly and saw Ricardo approach with an easy smile on his face.

“Did you enjoy the show?” Ricardo asked, leaning against the small table nearby, his tone casual but friendly.

Rúben smiled, lowering his glass, "Yeah, man, it was incredible. You killed it out there,” he said honestly, "Your energy, the way you had the crowd—it was on another level.

Ricardo chuckled, nodding appreciatively, "Glad you had a good time. It was one of those nights where everything just felt right, you know?” He glanced around the room before looking back at Rúben, noticing how his eyes had flicked back to you a couple of times. With a knowing grin, he added, “Looks like you’ve got your attention elsewhere, though.”

Rúben blinked, caught a little off guard, but laughed it off with a shrug, "Nah, I was just… taking it all in,” he said, trying to play it cool.

Ricardo smirked, his eyes sparkling with amusement, "Taking it all in, huh? Sure.” He didn’t push it further, but there was a playful edge to his voice, "You know, Y/N’s good people. A lot more chill than the headlines make her out to be.”

Rúben’s brow lifted slightly, intrigued, "I’ve heard that,” he admitted, glancing over at you again, "But it’s different seeing her in person.”

Ricardo nodded, clearly understanding, "Yeah, I get that. She’s like family, honestly. Been through a lot, but she’s one of the real ones.” He gave Rúben a pat on the shoulder before straightening up, "Anyway, I just wanted to make sure you had a good time tonight. Stick around—we’re keeping it low-key, but there’s plenty of time to relax.”

Rúben smiled, feeling the genuine warmth from Ricardo, "Thanks, man. I’m glad I came out tonight.” The energy of the evening still buzzed in his veins, not just from the music but from witnessing something unforgettable. He hadn’t expected to feel this way, to be so pulled in by someone he’d only known through screens and sounds. There was a weight to the night that he hadn’t anticipated—a sense that something was shifting, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

Ricardo noticed Rúben’s glances toward you once more and couldn’t help but grin. He nudged him slightly with a knowing look, "Want me to introduce you to her?”

Rúben’s heart skipped a beat, but he quickly masked it with a chuckle, shaking his head, "I don’t know, man. She’s probably busy… and it’s Y/N L/N,” he added under his breath. There was no hiding the fact that he was nervous. The truth was, you had been his first real celebrity crush when he was 15. Your posters had lined his cousins’ walls; you were someone he thought was completely untouchable. And now, he was standing in the same room, and Ricardo was offering an introduction like it was nothing.

Ricardo wasn’t having it, "Come on, she’s cool. Trust me,” he said with a mischievous glint in his eye. Before Rúben could protest further, Ricardo was already leading him toward her.

You were mid-conversation with Ricardo’s girlfriend, laughing at something she had just said, when they approached. Ricardo smoothly interrupted, "Y/N, this is my friend Rúben. Thought you two should meet.”

As you turned to face him, Rúben felt like the world paused for a moment. His breath hitched, his nerves immediately heightening as he took in the sight of you up close. He had seen you in magazines, on posters, in music videos — but none of that compared to this. Your beauty was effortless, natural, and completely disarming. It was in the way you smiled, the way your eyes sparkled with a warmth he wasn’t prepared for. His heart raced, and suddenly the room felt smaller, like there was just the two of you in it.

You extended your hand toward him, a friendly smile gracing your lips. “Hi, nice to meet you,” you said, your voice soft but confident, a blend of casualness and elegance that made his stomach flip.

As soon as Rúben’s hand touched yours, he felt a jolt rush through him. It was like electricity, a strange combination of excitement and disbelief that left his skin tingling. He forced himself to keep his grip firm but gentle, trying to steady his nerves, "Nice to meet you too,” he replied, keeping his cool despite the fact that he could hardly believe this was happening.

Before the conversation could go any further, Ricardo’s girlfriend tapped him on the arm, "Babe, we should go say hi to the event organizers,” she said.

Ricardo nodded, but not before throwing a glance at Rúben, "You two chat,” he said casually, "We’ll be back in a bit.”

Rúben shot him a look, knowing full well Ricardo was leaving them alone on purpose. As they walked off, he turned back to you, trying not to feel the weight of the moment.

“So…” Rúben began, “have you known Ricardo long?”

“Yeah, for a few years now,” you said with a smile, "I actually met him through Frank Ocean.”

Rúben’s eyes widened, "You know Frank Ocean?! What am I even asking? Of course you do.” He let out a laugh, shaking his head, "I’m a huge Frank fan.”

Your smile deepened, clearly pleased by his reaction, "Same here. His music is unreal, right? He’s one of the most genuine, talented people I’ve ever met. We became friends through some mutual contacts.”

“That’s incredible,” Rúben said, still slightly in awe, "Frank’s music—it just hits differently. He’s one of those artists who makes you stop and actually feel everything. It’s like each song pulls you into his world.”

He watched as you nodded, your eyes lighting up as you leaned in slightly, "Exactly. That’s why I love his work so much. It’s personal, raw, and makes you reflect in ways you didn’t expect.”

Rúben couldn’t help but smile, feeling more comfortable as your conversation flowed, "I’ve always admired people like that—artists who are unapologetically themselves and let their music speak for them.”

“Totally,” you agreed, "And I think that’s why Ricky and I became such good friends. We have similar vibes, and he’s always surrounded by people who are real, you know? It’s rare in this industry.”

Rúben nodded, his nerves fading as you two continued to talk. It wasn’t long before he realized that you were every bit as down-to-earth and genuine as Ricardo had said, and the more you talked, the more you seemed to connect.

As the conversation flowed, you looked at Rúben with genuine curiosity, "So, how do you know Ricardo?”

Rúben chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, "Funny enough, this is actually my first time meeting him in person. I messaged him online, told him I was a big fan of his music. And then he invited me to this show.”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips curving into a teasing smile, "He just invited you like that? Because you’re a fan? What are you not telling me?” you teased, playfully narrowing your eyes, "Are you in the music industry here in England or something?”

Rúben grinned, playing along with your teasing tone, "No, no, not in the music industry. Though that would be kind of cool. Maybe I went into the wrong line of work,” he joked, keeping his response light and vague.

You laughed, clearly intrigued by his answer but not pushing any further, "Well, whatever line of work you’re in, it must be pretty interesting if Ricardo thought of inviting you out.”

Rúben smiled, relieved that you hadn’t pressed him on it, though he could tell from your expression that you were still curious, "Let’s just say it’s different. Maybe I’ll tell you more about it later,” he said, keeping the mystery alive.

You chuckled, shaking your head, "Alright, I’ll hold you to that. But you’re definitely keeping me guessing now.”

As you talked, Rúben noticed your glass was nearly empty. Trying to keep the conversation going, he offered casually, “Need a refill? I can grab one for you.”

Just as you smiled and were about to answer, a tall, well-built man appeared by your side, handing you a fresh drink, "Here you go,” the man said in a low, protective voice, before adding, “You good? Ready to head out soon?”

Rúben’s chest tightened for a second, his mind jumping to conclusions. The man seemed to move with the kind of ease and familiarity that made Rúben think, that’s got to be her boyfriend. He tried to play it cool, but a small wave of disappointment washed over him. He remembered hearing about your breakup a few months ago with your on-and-off boyfriend—not that he’d ever admit to following celebrity gossip.

He watched as you thanked the man with a quick nod and turned back to Rúben, "Not yet,” you said, glancing at the man with a casual smile before shifting your attention back to the conversation, "He’s just making sure I don’t wander off or get caught up in the crowd.”

Rúben blinked, realization settling in—oh, that’s her bodyguard, not her boyfriend. He chuckled internally at his own assumption, feeling a sense of relief he wouldn’t dare admit. Trying to keep things smooth, he nodded with a smile, “It’s good to have someone looking out for you in a crowd like this.”

For a moment, Rúben noticed a shift in your expression. Your eyes grew distant, your smile faltering just slightly as you quietly said, "I have to." It was almost as if you were caught up in a thought that pulled you away from the present, something more serious than your lighthearted conversation.

Rúben opened his mouth to say something, unsure of how to respond to that fleeting moment of vulnerability, but before he could, you seemed to snap yourself out of it. Your usual warmth and energy returned, and you smiled again, continuing your conversation as if nothing had happened.

“So,” you said, your tone light again, “you were saying something about going into the wrong line of work? What do you actually do?”

Rúben felt the moment pass but couldn’t shake the brief glimpse of something deeper behind your smile. He pushed the thought aside for now, leaning into the conversation, "Ah, well, let’s just say it’s nothing as exciting as music,” he replied, keeping the mystery alive with a grin.

You laughed, shaking your head, "Wow, you’re really not gonna tell me, huh?” You gave him a playful look, your smile teasing, "This isn’t fair—you know what I do!”

Rúben chuckled, feeling the playful tension between them, "Alright, alright, I’ll give you that,” he said, trying to keep things light, "But I feel like I have to keep a little mystery, right? Besides, if I just told you, where’s the fun in that?”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms with an amused grin, "Oh, I see how it is. So you’re one of those guys, huh? All mysterious, keeping secrets,” you teased, your voice full of mock seriousness, "I bet you think it makes you more interesting.”

Rúben chuckled, shaking his head, "Maybe, a little mystery doesn’t hurt anybody,” he said, his eyes gleaming with humor, "Besides, it’s not going to be a secret forever... just for now.”

You leaned in slightly, closing the distance between you two, "For now? So you’re saying there’s a chance I’ll crack the code eventually?”

He tilted his head, unable to keep the smile off his face as he met your gaze, "Maybe. Depends on how curious you are.”

Your laugh was light, the kind that came from genuine enjoyment of the banter between you, "Oh, I’m very curious. You’ve made sure of that.” You playfully bumped his arm, and the tension between you shifted from lighthearted to something a bit more electric. There was a pull now, one that neither of you seemed inclined to break.

Rúben’s smile softened, the playful glint in his eyes still there but mixed with something else, "Good,” he said quietly, his voice lower now, "I think I like that.” He laughed, the banter between you flowing easily, but he could tell you were still curious. He liked the back-and-forth, and there was something fun about holding back just enough to keep you guessing.

He watched as you suddenly shifted, your tone apologetic, "I’m so sorry, but my feet are killing me," you said with a slight laugh, glancing down at your heels.

Rúben’s gaze followed instinctively, skimming down your long, elegant legs before landing on the heels that looked more fashionable than comfortable. He quickly composed himself, snapping his attention back up to your face, feeling a little embarrassed for having let his eyes linger.

You smiled, seemingly unaware of his momentary lapse, "I really want to keep talking to you, but can we take a seat over there?” you gestured toward a cozy seating area in the corner.

Rúben grinned, grateful for the more relaxed setting, "Of course,” he said, motioning for you to lead the way. As you made your way toward the seats, he couldn’t help but be impressed by how effortlessly you moved through the room, even while navigating uncomfortable shoes and a full conversation.

He also couldn’t help but notice two of your bodyguards discreetly following along, maintaining a close but respectful distance. Their presence was subtle, but it was clear that they were always watching, always making sure you were safe. He realized that, for someone like you, this was just a part of your everyday life—never being fully alone, always having someone keeping an eye out.

When you both reached the seating area, you gracefully settled into one of the plush chairs, letting out a small sigh of relief as you sat down for the first time in hours today.

Rúben took the seat beside you, glancing briefly at the bodyguards before turning his attention back to you, "Better?” he asked with a smile, keeping the mood light despite the ever-present security nearby.

“Much better,” you replied, your smile warm and genuine, "Thanks for not judging me for needing a break. These shoes were definitely not made for standing all night.”

Rúben chuckled, "No judgment here. You’re handling it better than most would.” He leaned back in his seat, finding himself more at ease as you settled into the quieter corner of the room.

You glanced over at your bodyguard, Eric, and motioned toward him, "Eric, can you get my friend Rúben here a drink, please?” you asked with a smile, noticing his glass was nearly empty.

You turned back to Rúben, and eyed his drink, "Gin?”

Rúben laughed softly and shook his head, "Oh, no, that’s okay. It’s actually just water.”

You smiled, clearly amused, "Water it is, then.” You leaned back in your chair, looking relaxed as Eric nodded and moved off to grab another drink, "Keeping it light tonight, huh?”

Rúben grinned, "Yeah, trying to keep it simple.”

You chuckled softly, clearly appreciating his easygoing approach, "I admire that. Most people wouldn’t say no to a drink, especially at an event like this."

Rúben shrugged, his smile easy, "I guess I’ve learned to pace myself. Especially when I’ve got a long day ahead tomorrow."

You raised an eyebrow, your curiosity piquing again, "You’ve really got me wondering what it is you do that’s got you thinking about tomorrow already."

Rúben smiled, his expression softening as he looked at you, "I guess I just prefer to let things unfold naturally,” he replied, his tone warm but playful, "Besides, the focus is on tonight, right? We’ll get to that part when it’s time.”

There was something about the way he said it—casual, but with an underlying confidence—that made you feel like you didn’t need all the answers just yet.

You laughed, leaning in a bit closer, "Alright, fine. I’ll play along for now. But, like I said, don’t think I won’t get it out of you eventually," you said, your tone playful but determined.

Rúben grinned, feeling more relaxed now that the conversation had found its rhythm, "I’m sure you will.”

You shot him a curious look, then changed the subject, "So, what did you think of the concert?"

"It was amazing," Rúben replied, nodding, "I’ve been a fan for a while, but this was next level. He has such a presence on stage—way different than just listening to his tracks."

You nodded in agreement, "Exactly. It’s like he brings something extra when he performs live. I’ve seen him a few times now, and it never gets old."

Rúben smiled, appreciating how easily the conversation was flowing between you, "It was my first time seeing you live too."

The comment caught you slightly off guard, but you couldn’t help but smile, "Oh yeah? What did you think?” You asked, leaning in a little, genuinely curious about his thoughts.

Rúben hesitated for a moment, not wanting to sound too over the top, but the truth was, the performance had left a lasting impression on him, "It was... incredible,” he said, meeting your eyes, "You have this presence on stage, like you’re giving a piece of yourself in every note. It’s something you don’t forget.”

Your smile deepened at his sincerity, warmth flooding your chest, "Thank you,” you said softly, genuinely touched by his words, "I’m glad you got to see it live, then. It means a lot when people get what I’m trying to put out there."

He gave you a quick smile. Eric returned with Rúben’s water, handing it to him with a nod before stepping back to his spot. Rúben took a sip, and you looked at him, your expression thoughtful, as if you were about to say something deeper. Instead, you smiled again, keeping things light, "So, what else do you do for fun, besides keeping secrets and attending concerts?" you teased.

Rúben laughed, feeling more comfortable than he had expected to, "Well, I do enjoy concerts when I can make it out to them. And keeping secrets? That’s just an added skill."

Your laugh was infectious, and you shook your head, "You’re a hard one to crack, Rúben."

Rúben couldn’t help but feel a rush of warmth at the sound of your laughter, like he had unlocked something special. The way your eyes lit up made him feel like he’d done something right, like maybe he was getting closer to you without even trying.

“To answer your question though, I like to stay active—running, hiking, anything that keeps me moving. But I also enjoy downtime with friends, whether it's playing card games or just hanging out, nothing too crazy. And when I get the chance, I love reading or catching up on a good film—helps clear my mind."

You leaned back in your seat, still smiling, but with a slightly more thoughtful expression now. “Well, I guess it’s good that you have hobbies outside of work. I feel like I’m always on the go. Between filming, recording, meetings… sometimes I forget what downtime even feels like.”

Rúben nodded, his smile softening. “I can imagine. You must have a pretty packed schedule.”

You chuckled lightly, “Yeah, it’s been nonstop lately. I barely have time for myself, let alone for stuff like this—just sitting, having a conversation, and not worrying about what comes next. It’s nice, though.”

He smiled as he took another sip of water, "I bet this venue is a change of pace for you?”

You tilted your head, your eyes narrowing slightly in curiosity, "What do you mean?”

“Well,” he said, setting his glass down, “you’re used to playing for huge crowds, no?”

A knowing smile crossed your face as you caught his meaning, "Ah. Yes, this is a little different, more intimate.” You leaned back in your seat, your expression softening as you reminisced, "I actually started my career playing venues like these. Small venues, little shows here and there. It seems like so long ago—my goodness.”

Rúben could see the nostalgia in your eyes, as if you were momentarily transported back to those early days of your career, "And how does it compare? The small venues versus the massive stadiums?”

You smiled, your eyes lighting up, "There’s no better feeling than the rush from performing, no matter the size of the venue. The energy from a massive crowd is incredible, but there’s something special about a smaller space. You can see everyone’s faces, feel their energy in a more personal way.”

Rúben nodded, understanding the appeal, "I can imagine. Must be surreal to have that kind of connection with your fans.”

“Yeah, it is,” you replied, your voice softening, "It reminds me why I started all of this in the first place. It’s easy to get caught up in the craziness, but those moments… they bring you back.”

Rúben smiled, appreciating how genuine you were, "Sounds like you’ve managed to stay grounded through it all."

You nodded, your expression thoughtful, "I try. But it helps when you have the right people around you."

“How are you liking Manchester? Are you just visiting?” Rúben asked, curious.

“I really like it,” you said, your eyes brightening a bit, "It’s different from what I’m used to—people are friendlier than I expected, and the vibe here is nice. It’s a bit more laid-back than the usual chaos of my life in LA or New York.” You smiled, "And no, I’m actually here for the next year—I’m filming a movie.”

Rúben raised his eyebrows in surprise, "A whole year? That’s exciting. What’s the movie about?”

You chuckled softly, leaning back, "Can’t give too much away just yet, but it’s a drama—something really close to my heart. It’s been intense, but I’m excited to be staying here for a while.”

Rúben grinned, leaning back in his chair, "Seems like we’re both keeping secrets, then.”

Your eyes sparkling with amusement, "I guess we are. Maybe we’ll have to trade secrets at some point.”

Rúben nodded, smirking, “Maybe. But for now, I think it’s more fun to keep the mystery going.”

You raise your glass playfully, "To secrets, then.”

Rúben clinked his glass with yours, "To secrets.”

You tilted your head, looking at him curiously, "How about you? You from around here? Your accent doesn’t sound like you are, but I can’t quite place it."

Rúben smiled, leaning in a little, "Good catch. No, I’m not from here—I’m Portuguese, actually."

Your eyes lit up with recognition, "Ah, that makes sense now! I knew it wasn’t an English accent. Portugal, huh? I loved my time in Lisbon. How long have you been here?"

Rúben shrugged lightly, "A couple of years now. Manchester’s become a bit of a second home, even if it’s very different from where I grew up—just outside of Lisbon, actually."

You nodded, your smile warm and understanding, "I can see why it would. Manchester has its own charm, doesn’t it? Maybe not the same sunshine as Lisbon, but there’s something about it that makes it feel like home after a while."

Rúben glanced around, the familiarity of the city settling over him, "Yeah, it grows on you," he admitted, "Even the rain."

You laughed softly, shaking your head, "I can imagine. I feel like I’ve barely seen the sun since I got here." you took a sip of your drink and leaned in slightly, your tone a little more curious now, "So what brought you here in the first place?"

Rúben hesitated for a moment, the familiar question hanging in the air, but he kept things light, "Work, mostly. I got an opportunity that I couldn’t turn down, so here I am."

You raised an eyebrow playfully, "You’re impossible."

Rúben grinned, enjoying the back-and-forth between the two of you, "I guess I am. It’s more fun this way—for me—at least.”

You let it go and instead say, “It’s funny how different places can feel like home, even when they’re not where you’re originally from."

Rúben glanced at you, sensing the depth in your words, "Exactly. It’s more about the people you’re surrounded by than the place itself, I think."

You smiled, your eyes reflecting that same thought, "You’re right. The people make all the difference." There was a brief pause before you added, “I’ve been lucky to meet some good people here already. Makes the whole being-away-from-home thing a lot easier.”

Rúben nodded, feeling the connection deepen between them, "Sounds like Manchester’s already making a good impression on you."

Your smile softened, "Yeah, it really is. I wasn’t sure how I’d feel about staying here for so long, but the city’s kind of growing on me."

Ruben glanced at you, appreciating how genuine you were, "It’s funny how that works. Sometimes you don’t expect a place to feel like home until you really settle in, and suddenly it just clicks."

You took another sip of your drink, your eyes drifting to the crowd of Ricardo’s friends and team before you turned back to him, "So, what do you do when you’re not busy with this mysterious job of yours? Any favorite spots in the city?

Rúben chuckled, feeling the playful tension between you lighten again, "I’m pretty low-key. I like going for runs, exploring the quieter parts of the city when I can. There’s this park I go to, Fletcher Moss—it’s one of my favorite places to clear my head."

Your face lit up with interest, "That sounds nice! I love finding those hidden gems in new cities. Maybe you’ll have to show me around sometime."

Rúben’s heart skipped a beat, but he managed to play it cool, "I’d be happy to. There’s a lot of spots you’d probably like—depends on what you’re into."

You leaned forward slightly, your gaze locking with his, the connection deepening with every word. “I’m into a lot of things. But I’m always up for discovering something new.”

Rúben felt a spark of something more as he grinned, “Well, looks like you’ve got yourself a tour guide then.”

The conversation flowed easily between you, but after a while, Rúben excused himself with a smile. “I’ll be right back, just need to use the toilet.”

You nodded, watching him go with a curious smile. Taking a sip of your drink, you found yourself wondering who exactly Rúben was. Something about his easy charm and the way he’d dodged certain questions intrigued you. He seemed grounded—refreshingly so—but also slightly mysterious.

On his way back, as Rúben navigated through the crowd, someone stopped him. A man in his mid-30s approached, clearly excited but respectful. “Rúben, sorry to bother you, but… could I get your autograph? I’ve been following your career for a while. It would mean a lot.”

Rúben’s voice was quiet but kind as he quickly signed the fan’s hat. “Yeah, of course. Thanks for the support.”

As he looked up, he noticed you watching from your table, amusement and curiosity flickering across your face.

When he returned and sat down, you didn’t hesitate. Leaning in slightly, your eyes twinkled. “Alright, what was that about? You’ve officially lost your mystery card.” You laughed softly. “So, are you going to tell me now, or do I have to Google you?”

Rúben scratched the back of his neck, a bit shy under your playful scrutiny. “Well, looks like I can’t keep that secret anymore.” He smiled sheepishly. “You got me—I play football… or soccer, as you call it in the States.”

Your eyes widened, genuine curiosity in your expression. “Now I’m really curious—who do you play for?”

Rúben chuckled softly, realizing his attempt to keep things low-key had failed. “I play for Manchester City.”

You nodded slowly, taking it in, even though football wasn’t your world. But you didn’t downplay it. “Manchester City, huh? I think I’ve seen billboards of you guys around town… and I might’ve passed by where you play… something with an E, right?” You paused, trying to remember the name.

“Etihad Stadium,” Rúben said, amused by your effort.

“That’s it! I’ve definitely driven past it on my way to set,” you said with a smile. “I’ve seen the billboards, too.”

Despite not following the sport, you didn’t brush off his career, which Rúben appreciated. Your curiosity and respect were clear. “That’s pretty amazing. I know soccer’s huge here.”

Rúben leaned back, feeling more relaxed now that the truth was out. “It’s been a good journey so far.” He grinned. “I was having fun trying to keep you guessing.”

You smiled, your eyes playful. “Well, I’m glad you finally told me..” You teased him lightly. “But now I feel like I owe you an apology for all the games I haven’t been paying attention to since being here for the past month.”

Rúben laughed, the tension easing. “I think I can let that slide.”

There was a pause, and then you tilted your head, a grin tugging at your lips. “So… are you any good?”

He chuckled, downplaying it. “I get by.”

“Just ‘get by’?” You raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying his modesty. Grabbing your phone, you began typing with a smirk. “What’d you say your last name was?”

“I didn’t. It’s Dias—with an S,” he answered, trying not to laugh at your persistence.

A few seconds passed as you scanned the screen, and when you looked up, disbelief flashed in your eyes. “I don’t know what any of these awards mean,” you began, laughing, “but it says here you’re ‘one of the best defenders in the world.’”

Rúben couldn’t help but laugh, though he was visibly embarrassed. “I wouldn’t say all that,” he replied, his modesty endearing.

Reading aloud from your phone, you continued with a playful smirk. “‘Known for his tactical intelligence and physical presence… multiple titles with Manchester City… Defender of the Year.’” You leaned in, teasing him. “You’ve been holding out on me, Rúben.”

He rubbed the back of his neck again, his smile sheepish. “Yeah, well… I didn’t want to come off as full of myself.”

Your smile softened, clearly impressed but maintaining the light tone between you. “I get it. But that’s pretty amazing. You’re out here acting like it’s no big deal, and meanwhile, people are calling you one of the best in the world.” You crossed your arms, grinning. “You just went from mysterious to impressive real quick.”

Rúben laughed, feeling comfortable again. “Thanks, but honestly, I’m just trying to keep things normal. It’s all part of the job.”

You nodded, still smiling. “Well, you’re doing a good job of keeping it normal. But now I’m definitely curious about what it’s like being, you know… one of the best defenders in the world.��

Rúben smiled, leaning back a bit. “It’s not as glamorous as it sounds. A lot of hard work, a lot of discipline.”

“I can imagine,” you said, your voice softer now, genuinely intrigued. “But playing in front of all those fans… hearing them chant your name… that’s got to feel surreal.”

“It is,” Rúben admitted, his tone thoughtful. “The energy is something else. You don’t hear individual voices—it’s like this wall of sound that hits you. But at the end of the day, it’s about the game… being part of something bigger.”

You smiled at that, clearly drawing a parallel. “It’s like performing on stage, then. You connect with the crowd, but you also lose yourself in the moment.”

Rúben nodded, appreciating the comparison. “Exactly. It’s all about focus. When you’re in that flow, everything else just fades.”

“You make it sound almost meditative,” you said with a smile, your voice thoughtful.

“It kind of is,” Rúben replied, then paused. “But then there’s the other side. The pressure, the expectations… everyone’s got an opinion, and it’s hard to shake that sometimes.”

You understood that feeling all too well. “I get that. The spotlight can make people forget there’s a real person behind it all.”

Rúben nodded, grateful for your understanding. “Exactly. It’s like you’re always ‘on,’ even when you’re not on the pitch.”

“It sounds like we have more in common than I thought,” you said with a smile. “But I’d love to see you play sometime. Maybe now I’ll actually pay attention.”

Rúben grinned. “Well, if you ever come to a match, I’ll try not to disappoint.”

“I have a feeling you won’t,” you teased. “I’ll definitely check out a game now. You know… for research,” you winked.

Rúben chuckled, his voice softening as he replied, “I’d be happy to have you there.”

You sat for a moment, the conversation flowing naturally as you both seemed to relax more into each other’s company. Rúben glanced around, noticing how the crowd at the after-party had thinned out a bit. The buzz of the room had calmed, leaving the both of you in your own little corner, comfortably isolated from the rest of the event.

“So,” you started, your tone becoming a little more curious, “how do you handle it? The pressure? Does it ever get to you?”

Rúben thought for a moment, taking in the question, “It’s tough sometimes,” he admitted, his voice a little quieter, "I try not to let it get to me, but it’s always there—people’s expectations, the media, the fans. You want to do your best, but there are days when it can be a little overwhelming.”

“I get that. It’s kind of the same in my world. You start out just wanting to do what you love, and then suddenly, everyone’s watching, waiting for you to either succeed or fail.” You paused for a moment, your gaze softening, “But I guess you learn to find your balance.”

Rúben smiled, appreciating how easily you understood the weight of it, "Yeah, that’s the key—finding balance. Making sure you have a life outside of it all. I try to keep things as normal as possible, spend time with friends and family, stay grounded.”

A glimmer of admiration flashed in your eyes, “That’s a good way to look at it. It’s hard to remember sometimes, but you can’t let the spotlight define you.”

“Exactly,” Rúben said, nodding, "It’s important to have something outside of football, something that reminds you who you really are. For me, it’s family and friends. What about you? How do you stay grounded?”

Your gaze drifted, deep in thought, “I think it’s the same for me,” you say quietly, "Family, close friends. The people who knew me before all of this happened. They remind me of where I came from and what’s important.” You looked back at him, your smile returning, "And, of course, taking time to do normal things—like having random conversations at after-parties with guys who pretend not to be famous.”

Rúben laughed, "Yeah, well, you’ve got me figured out now.”

“Maybe,” you say, teasingly, your eyes twinkling again, “But I’m still learning.”

Rúben grinned, enjoying the ease of their conversation, "It’s good I’ve still got some mystery left, then.”

You smirked, raising an eyebrow, "It’s also a good thing I’m catching on quickly.” You took another sip of your drink, then set the glass down, leaning in slightly, "It’s funny, isn’t it? No matter how big life gets, we’re all just trying to stay connected to the simple things.”

Rúben nodded, his eyes softening as he spoke, "Exactly. All the attention—it’s great in some ways, but it’s the little moments, the real ones, that matter the most.”

Your smile grew a little more thoughtful, your gaze meeting his, “I think that’s why tonight’s been nice. It’s not about the big scene or the crowds—it’s just… talking.”

Rúben felt a warmth spread through him at your words. There was something about this connection, the easy back-and-forth, that made him forget about everything else.

You felt the same. For the first time in a long time, you weren't the celebrity in the room. You were just Y/N, having a conversation with someone who seemed to genuinely understand you.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, his voice soft but sincere, "It’s been really nice.”

For a moment, the space between you seemed to shrink, the rest of the room fading into the background. There was an unspoken understanding passing between you, something that felt deeper than just casual conversation.

“You’re different from what I expected, you know,” you said, your tone playful but with a hint of something more, "Not that I had much to go on, but still.”

Rúben chuckled, feeling a bit of heat rise to his cheeks, "Different, huh? I’m hoping that’s a good thing.”

You laughed softly, your eyes sparkling, “It is. Definitely a good thing.”

He smiled, feeling a quiet sense of contentment settle over him, "You know, you’re different too. In a good way,” he added, his tone light but genuine.

“Oh yeah? How so?” You asked, tilting your head slightly.

Rúben thought for a moment, then shrugged with a smile, “I guess I expected you to be… I don’t know, larger than life, I suppose. But you’re real. Easy to talk to, grounded. It’s refreshing.”

“Thanks,” you say quietly, “That means a lot.”

Rúben’s words hung in the air, and for a moment, you felt something shift. You had gotten used to people seeing you as an image, a brand, something beyond just a person. Fans and the media only ever saw the version of you on magazine covers, in interviews, or on stage. Larger than life, as Rúben had said. They admired the success, the fame, the polished perfection of it all. But it wasn’t often that someone saw past that, to the reality of who you were.

And yet, here was Rúben, someone who didn’t know you well—at least, not personally—and still, he was trying to see you. The real you. He hadn’t met the version of you that the world idolized, but the one sitting in front of him, sharing casual conversation and laughter. He didn’t treat you like the star everyone else seemed to see, and for the first time in a while, you felt like you weren’t under a microscope.

It was strange, almost liberating, to be with someone who didn’t make your fame the centerpiece of the interaction. He wasn’t in awe of your celebrity or caught up in the glitz of it all. Instead, he seemed intrigued by the person behind all of that. And that, more than anything, made you feel a sense of relief—a small but significant reminder that you were more than just a name or a face in the public eye.

Rúben, too, found himself reflecting on the fact that despite knowing you through your fame, sitting here with you felt remarkably natural. It was like the layers of who you were—superstar, singer, performer—had been peeled back, revealing someone far more real, far more grounded than he had expected.

The air between you felt charged, but not in an uncomfortable way. It was like you’d found a rhythm, an understanding that transcended the usual boundaries of your worlds. It was simple, easy, and real.

“I guess we’re both surprising each other tonight,” you said with a playful smile, your voice breaking the silence but keeping the warmth alive.

Rúben smiled, feeling more relaxed than he had all night, “I think that’s a good thing.”

You leaned in, your smile teasing, "So, you’re a fan of Frank and 6lack. Any chance you’re a fan of mine?”

Rúben smiled back, enjoying the playful energy between you, "Yeah, I might’ve seen a few of your music videos.”

That caught you by surprise, especially since your music was so different from the styles of Frank and 6lack. You raised an eyebrow, deciding to play along, "Posters on your wall too?”

He chuckled, shaking his head, "No, but my little cousins definitely had a few. I might’ve appreciated your beauty back then, though. Might have even said you were my celebrity crush when people asked.”

Now that really threw you off. You blinked, a teasing smile slowly forming on your lips, "Really?” you asked, though his words stuck with you, a little more genuine than you expected. He said it so casually, so sincerely. It wasn’t the usual exaggerated fan confession you’d grown used to—this felt different. More real.

As you sat there, you couldn’t help but take him in, noticing not just how calm and grounded he seemed, but how effortlessly handsome he was. Rúben had a quiet magnetism about him. His sharp features—the strong jawline, the slightly tousled dark hair, the way his eyes seemed to hold yours without wavering—made him striking in a way that was hard to ignore. His easy smile softened his intensity, giving him a boyish charm that contrasted with the strength in his build.

He had an athletic frame, broad shoulders that were dead giveaways of his profession, which you probably should have guessed, but there was something about the way he carried himself—relaxed, confident, yet without arrogance—that made him even more attractive. He wasn’t just handsome in the way people usually described. There was a depth to his presence, an authenticity that you hadn’t expected.

You’d realized it the moment you were introduced, but sitting here now, the conversation flowing so naturally, you found yourself noticing even more—how his eyes crinkled slightly when he smiled, how his laugh felt genuine, and how his warmth seemed to come effortlessly. In a world where everything in your life was curated and controlled, Rúben felt like the opposite—completely natural, unaffected by the whirlwind that usually surrounded you.

It wasn’t just his looks that drew you in, though those were undeniable. It was the way he listened, the way he engaged with you, not as the public figure everyone else saw but as someone real. That sincerity made him even more attractive, and you couldn’t help but feel a little flustered by how much he was affecting you.

So, you decided to tease him.

A playful spark lit in your eyes, “Ah, so you don’t appreciate my beauty now?”

For a moment, Rúben froze, completely caught off guard. Oh my God, is she flirting with me? He stammered, “No, I mean yes.”

Your soft giggle only made his flustered state worse, and you leaned in slightly, clearly enjoying his reaction, "Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you nervous.”

Rúben cleared his throat, attempting to regain some composure, "Me? Nervous? Psh, never,” he said, flashing a grin that was a little too playful, though the slight blush on his cheeks betrayed him.

You laughed again, the sound light and genuine, "Sure, whatever you say,” you teased, your eyes twinkling as the tension between you two grew playfully charged.

Rúben shook his head, trying to steady himself, "Okay, maybe a little nervous,” he admitted, still smiling, "But I wasn’t expecting you to just—well, you know—say that.”

Leaning back with a satisfied grin, you crossed your arms, "I like keeping people on their toes. Besides, aren’t you athletes supposed to be cool under pressure?”

Rúben smirked, feeling the energy shift, "On the pitch, yeah. Off the pitch? It’s a little different when you’re sitting next to your teenage celebrity crush.”

Your smile softened, and your eyes sparkled with curiosity and amusement, "Oh, so now I’m just the teenage celebrity crush?”

He laughed, running a hand through his hair, feeling bolder now, "Nah, you’ve held that title pretty well. I just didn’t think I’d ever get the chance to say it to you in person.”

You raised an eyebrow, a sly smile on your lips, "Are you saying I’m still your celebrity crush?”

Your question hit him harder than expected, and for a moment, Rúben felt that familiar nervousness creeping back in. He tried to find the right words without sounding completely flustered, but the teasing glint in your eyes only made him more nervous.

“Well,” he began, a little sheepishly, “Um, yeah, maybe.”

Your smile widened, clearly enjoying the moment, "Maybe?” you echoed, your tone playful, "You might need to be a little more sure about that, Rúben.”

He laughed, shaking his head, "Okay, fine. Yes,” he admitted, finally giving in, "You’re still my celebrity crush.”

Your laughter rang out softly, and you leaned back in your chair, clearly satisfied, "Good to know," you teased, your eyes sparkling as you met his gaze, "I’ve got to say, that’s pretty flattering."

Rúben felt the tension ease again, the conversation flowing naturally, "Well, you’ve earned it," he said with a grin, "It’s not just anyone who can hold onto that title for so long."

You smiled shyly, butterflies erupting in your stomach, "Thanks."

Rúben laughed, leaning back a little, a blush still on his cheeks “You’re welcome.”

You gave him a playful look, raising your glass slightly as if to toast, “No, seriously—‘Rúben Dias’s celebrity crush’ completely trumps ‘Grammy Award-winning artist.’ I should update my bio immediately.”

He chuckled, shaking his head, “Oh, yeah, because that’s what people are really interested in.”

You grinned, your eyes twinkling with amusement., “Obviously! Forget the Grammys—this is the real achievement,” you teased, leaning in a bit closer, “I should make a speech.”

Rúben shook his head, laughing softly, "I’d love to hear that one.”

You leaned in, your smile soft but teasing, “Alright, I’m done teasing you about this… for now. Also, for what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty cute.”

Rúben blinked, clearly stunned by the compliment. He ran a hand over his face, laughing under his breath, “Oh God, this is not my life. I think I’m going to wake up any moment now.”

You laughed, watching as the cool, confident man you’d first met seemed to disappear, replaced by someone more flustered, more genuine. It was endearing, seeing him like this—unprepared, caught off guard. You couldn’t help but smile, watching the way he fumbled with his thoughts, clearly trying to process everything. There was something incredibly charming about seeing this side of him—the one that wasn’t perfectly composed or poised like he probably was on the field.

“You’re seriously doubting this is real?” you tease, still grinning, "What, you don’t usually get compliments? I’m sure your DMs are full.”

Rúben shook his head, a playful look in his eyes now, "I mean, maybe, but that doesn’t mean I’m not caught off guard by compliments from someone like you.”

You raised an eyebrow, "Someone like me? Elaborate.”

He shrugged, his grin widening a bit, "You know… a global superstar, my celebrity crush, and apparently someone who thinks I’m cute.”

You laughed again, feeling the playful tension between you both rising, "Well, get used to it,” you replied with a wink, "You’re in my orbit now.”

Rúben shook his head again, still smiling but his voice softened slightly, "You have no idea how surreal this feels.”

You feel warmth spread through you again, but this time it wasn’t from the teasing or the banter. There was sincerity in his voice that caught you off guard, "Well,” you said softly, “I’m glad you’re here.”

For a moment, the teasing disappeared, replaced by something more real, something that made the connection between you both feel deeper. The air between you felt a little heavier, but in the best way, like you were both beginning to see each other clearly for the first time. You both sat in the comfortable silence that followed, the shared understanding between you deepening. Rúben could feel the connection growing, something more than just casual conversation or playful teasing.

“I’ve got to say,” you finally said, breaking the silence with a smile, “I’m glad Ricardo left us alone to talk. It’s been… fun.”

Rúben smiled back, feeling the same way, "Yeah, it has.”

He leaned back in his chair, letting the comfortable silence settle between you for another moment. He couldn’t help but feel how unexpectedly natural this all felt—talking to you, connecting over things beyond the surface. He hadn’t expected to feel so at ease with you, but there it was, undeniable.

“I guess we have to thank Ricardo for that,” he said with a small grin, "He knew what he was doing.”

You laughed softly, nodding, “Yeah, he’s sneaky like that. But in a good way.” You glanced around the room, "It’s kind of funny. I wasn’t even planning on staying this long, but…” You trailed off, your eyes meeting his again, "I’m glad I did.”

Rúben’s heart gave a slight jump at the way you said it, the openness in your voice, "Yeah, me too,” he said, his tone sincere.

Leaning in just a bit closer, your gaze lingering on his, you began, your voice quiet but playful “You know, I’ve spent all night figuring you out, but I still feel like there’s more to uncover.”

Rúben chuckled, feeling the subtle shift in the air between you, "I’m not that mysterious,” he said with a grin, though he knew you weren’t entirely wrong.

You smiled, tilting your head slightly, “Maybe not, but there’s definitely more to you than meets the eye.” you paused, then added with a teasing glint in your eyes, “And I don’t mean just on the field.”

Rúben laughed, shaking his head, "I’m starting to think you’re the one with all the layers.”

“You’re definitely right about that,” you said, your voice soft now, "I do have a few layers left myself.”

In this moment, as your eyes met his, you felt a familiar tug in your chest—a reminder of the walls you’d built over the years, the barriers fame had forced you to put in place. The persona the world saw, the carefully crafted version of you, had become second nature. It was protection, keeping people at a distance, even when they thought they were close. But here, sitting across from Rúben, with his easy smile and genuine warmth, you could feel those walls wavering, just a little.

It had always been easier to let people see what they wanted to see—the superstar, the performer. Not many had the patience or desire to dig deeper, to find the layers you’d hidden beneath the surface. And for the longest time, you were okay with that. Fame came with its own set of rules, its own boundaries, and you followed them.

But now, as Rúben leaned in slightly, his eyes filled with curiosity and something more, you wondered if maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to let someone in. Even just a little. He didn’t seem intimidated by the version of you that everyone else saw. Instead, he was looking for something beyond it, and the way he said, "I think I’m up for the challenge," made you feel like maybe—just maybe—he could be.

Your smile softened as you met his gaze, feeling that unspoken connection settle between you. “I guess we’ll see,” you said quietly, the words holding more weight than just a playful response. Because a part of you wondered if you were ready to let someone like Rúben peel back those layers you’d kept hidden for so long.

Just as the moment between you deepened, your bodyguard, Eric, reappeared at your side. His presence was calm but firm, and he leaned in slightly, lowering his voice so only you could hear, "Hey, sorry to interrupt, but we should probably head out soon. There’s a lot of paps waiting outside.”

You sighed softly, the weight of your public life settling in again. You glanced up at Eric, then back at Rúben with a small, apologetic smile, "I guess that’s my cue.”

Rúben nodded, understanding, "Yeah, I figured you’d have a bit of a crowd waiting for you.”

You stood up slowly, adjusting your jacket, "I knew it was too good to last,” you said lightly, though there was a hint of reluctance in your voice, "It was nice having a little break from all that, though.”

Rúben stood up too, his smile warm, "I get it. You’ve got to do what you’ve got to do.” He hesitated for a moment, not wanting the night to end just yet, "But I’ve really enjoyed tonight. I’m glad Ricardo pulled me over.”

Your eyes softened as you looked at him, "Me too.”

You smiled, and for a brief moment, it felt like there was something unspoken between you, a mutual understanding that this night hadn’t just been a random conversation—it had been the start of something more.

As Eric gave you a gentle nudge toward the exit, you looked back at Rúben one last time, "Goodnight, Rúben.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he replied, his voice soft but genuine.

And with that, you turned to leave, your bodyguards following. Rúben stood there for a moment, watching you go, a quiet smile lingering on his face. The night had been unexpected, but as he watched you go, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of something… something real. So, with a sudden rush of boldness surge through him, he decided to act on it. This wasn’t something that happened every day—his celebrity crush not only talking to him but connecting with him on a real level. Before he could overthink it, he called out, “Y/N!”

You stopped mid-step, turning slightly in his direction, your eyes meeting his with a curious look. The noise of the music and conversations, the bustle of the crew, and the buzz of the venue seemed to melt away as you focused on him. The way you tilted your head, your brows lifting slightly in question—it caught him completely off guard.

He didn’t know where this sudden burst of courage came from, but he wasn’t about to back down now. Rúben cleared his throat, taking a step toward you, the words forming before he could second-guess himself.

“Would you like to get dinner sometime?” His voice, though steady, held a slight edge of nervousness, like he was teetering between confidence and uncertainty.

For a split second, surprise flickered across your face. It wasn’t the kind of question you’d been expecting tonight, that much was clear. You blinked, your lips parting as if you weren’t sure what to say. But then, something shifted in your expression, a warmth replacing the initial shock, and you smiled—a real, genuine smile that softened your entire face.

“Dinner?” you asked, the word rolling off your tongue with a hint of amusement. You took a step closer to him, your gaze steady and playful as if considering his offer with more weight than you were letting on. “Are you asking me out on a date, Rúben?”

His heart thudded in his chest, but he managed to keep his voice calm as he replied, “Yeah, I am.”

You paused for a moment, glancing at your bodyguard Eric, who stood a few steps behind you, clearly waiting for a signal. You then looked back at Rúben, your eyes sparkling with a teasing edge. “You know what?” you said, taking another step closer, “I think I’d like that.”

Rúben’s heart skipped a beat. “Really?”

“Really,” you confirmed, your voice softer now, more sincere than playful. “Let’s make it happen.”

As you turned to follow Eric, you threw one last glance over your shoulder, your voice light and teasing. “I’ll have my people reach out to yours.”

Rúben couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head slightly. “Yeah, I’ll keep an eye out for that,” he said, grinning.

You waved a final goodbye, your bodyguard stepping in to guide you through the thinning crowd. Rúben stood there for a moment, watching you disappear into the backstage area, his pulse still racing, his mind still replaying everything that had just happened.

He had actually done it. He had asked you out, and you had said yes. It felt crazy, like something out of a dream.

Before he could process any further, a familiar voice pulled him back to reality. “Yo,” Ricardo called out with a grin, striding over to him. “Looks like you two were hitting it off.”

Rúben chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, something like that.”

Ricardo smirked, clearly catching on. “You asked her out, didn’t you?”

Rúben shrugged, trying to play it cool. “I might have.”

Ricardo let out a low whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. “Damn, man. You’ve got balls. Good for you. I told you she was good people.”

Rúben nodded, still in a bit of a daze. “Yeah, she is.”

Ricardo clapped him on the shoulder, his grin widening. “Well, I guess you’re in now. She’s a lot of fun. Just keep it real with her.”

“I will,” Rúben said, his voice more serious now.

Ricardo gave him a final nod, clearly pleased with how the night had unfolded. “Good luck, man. I’m rooting for you.”

Rúben smiled, feeling a mix of excitement and disbelief wash over him. As Ricardo headed back to join the rest of his crew, Rúben couldn’t help but glance toward the backstage area one last time, his thoughts still on you and the unexpected connection you’d shared tonight.

The night had started as something ordinary—a concert, a chance to unwind—but it had turned into something far more significant. He had no idea what would happen next, but for now, he was content with the knowledge that you’d said yes.

The cool night air greeted him as he stepped out of the venue, the sounds of the city humming softly in the background. Rúben walked toward his car, his mind still buzzing with the events of the evening, the thought of seeing you again lingering in the back of his mind.

The drive home was quiet, the streets mostly empty as the city began to settle into the late hours. Rúben’s mind was still replaying the night, the conversation with you, the way you had smiled at him, the promise of seeing you again. He was lost in thought, but it was the kind of thought that made him feel light, almost weightless.

There was something about your beauty—effortless, captivating—that he couldn’t shake. It wasn’t just in the way you looked, but the way you made everything around you seem more alive. Meeting you had stirred something in him, and he knew this was only the beginning.

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rubendias The unexpected connection. Long time listener… special to finally hear it in person! Good to see you bro @.6lack ✊🏼

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well, chapter one is all yours! i hope you enjoyed it ◡̈

chapter two should be out soon 🤍

my ask box is always open! (another reminder: i am from California (PDT), so i’m 8 hours behind England so please forgive me if i answer really late 😩

-mars

[juniperpyre]

canon lily evans: who is she? part 1

there have been many fanon iterations of lily j. evans over the past two decades. she's been a perfect mother and wife, a goody two shoes who plays by the rules and makes sure everyone else does, she's been a kind, intelligent, beautiful dream girl, a genuis, fighting badass who takes no shit and solves everyone's problems, she's been a bitch, she's been an incubator.

it's hard to make an argument for or against any of these traits. we see little of her in canon, and much of it from highly biased sources (petunia, severus). nonetheless, lily j. evans has a canon foundation. let us explore.

we first hear of lily as she is mourned by professor mcgonagall, hagrid, and dumbledore. we see little to no characterization beyond the intensity of sadness all three feel over lily and james' deaths. plenty of people have died in the war, but lily and james' death seem to hit hard.

we hear lily's voice with harry for the first time in the third book, as she begs voldemort to spare her son.

we do not hear about her again besides references to harry's eyes until the 5th book.

snape's worst memory

we first see lily from snape's perspective, in his memories.

what an introduction. lily and james are at odds and it's lily that broke her way into the confrontation. she does not hesitate to command james, or to show her anger. but she also speaks cooly. she only shouts once to get james' attention as she's walking over and then chooses her words carefully. her goal is to hurt james, to shame him enough that he backs down.

we can see from her multiple insults to james—unnecessary, she could simple tell him to stop more, or appeal to his good nature, or get a teacher, or try to disarm him—that she is choosing cruelty in this moment. she believes james is behaving badly (unjustly, perhaps) and her method to stop him is publicly insulting him. the punishment matches the crime.

this all shows a decisiveness to lily's actions. she is sure of herself, quick thinking, she values justice more than popularity, and she is okay with being mean. if someone, james in this instance, has transgressed far enough outside of morality she is fine with using immoral behavior to put them in their place.

we could argue that insulting james is not immoral behavior, or that lily does not believe it is. but the fact is lily is trying to (emotionally) hurt james to protect snape when she has by-the-book options. she is not an idealist, and does not seem a goody-two shoes. (of course, she could've attacked him, but that wouldn't de-escalate. she's not a violent person, or too impulsive).

and then we come to this moment. still in the introduction to lily's character, snape calls her a Mudblood.

lily does not shout. she blinks. she responds with an insult meant to further humiliate snape.

james shouts. james is ready to attack over the use of a slur, but lily is not. perhaps this is because the consequences will always be worse for her. perhaps she knows reacting will give the bigots watching satisfaction. perhaps her emotions are too private for this moment. whatever reason, lily is in control, and she uses insults to regain her power.

"you're as bad as he is"

i rarely see this line worked through in jily fics. this line shows the deepest insight into lily's perspective. it is the first time she shouts, it's an emotional reaction. comparing james to snape may be a cruel statement designed to hurt james, but because lily did not deliver this line cooly, with foresight, i believe it is her true feelings.

she proceeds to insult james with, imo, fairly trivial bullshit, aside from the hexing. it's not that these actions are so horrible; lily is angry at james for his attitude. james gets to walk the halls without a care in the world and he clearly carries a sense of superiority. he isn't thinking about how his actions affect others. he doesn't have think about the sociopolitics of a situation until someone is shouting Mudblood in his face.

this is why lily sees james as bad as snape. james thinks he's a good guy, but he's contributing to a school environment where two rich pureblood boys get to torment whoever they like! he's not fighting bigotry just because he doesn't use slurs. james is ignorant and doing harm, like most teenagers.

lily sees the way both boys are hurting people, many of them vulnerable, and can't see a true difference. fair enough!

the next we hear of this is confirmation from remus and sirius that lily did not hate james, and that james became less of a dick. I'm sure both of these men remember james and lily overly-fondly. however, i believe their statements create a sketch of what happened off the page. james matured. there isn't a comment on lily maturing, however.

the memory highlights lily's self-control, her Machiavellian perspective on combating wrongdoing, her deep rooted anger and morals, her wit, and her strong sense of loyalty.

it isn't until the 6th book that we receive more insight into lily's character. this comes from horace slughorn, her potions master.

horace slughorn & lily evans

he remembers lily as one of the brightest students he ever had. vivacious means full of life, animated. though it also indicates attractiveness, i find it meaningful that slughorn isn't commenting primarily on lily's appearance or her kindness but on her passions and spirit. it leads me to believe that slughorn did care about lily as a person.

slughorn also says lily is charming and cheeky. all of his descriptors point towards an attractive and friendly personality, but not one with a strong fondness for rules. she's cheeky to a teacher, and that is not the trait of a goody-two shoes, a stick in the mud, or a doormat of a housewife. lily has beliefs that she will be made known, even if it may go against the grain.

we saw in snape's worst memory that lily used insults to keep control of a situation and express discontent without showing too much emotion. she had a sharp tongue and a quick mind that she used in all situations. though she showed parts of herself and her beliefs that were not popular, she was keeping aspects of herself guarded. this is shrewd and indicates a keen understanding of social politics, and possibly unhealthy emotional repression.

furthermore, slughorn believes she could have been in slytherin. he could tell that she used social manipulation. i do not think lily put on a mask, but she was particular with what parts of herself she allowed people to see. this also leads me to believe lily did not play by the rules when it came to success, that she showed ambition and cunning. slughorn liked successful students—even in the horrible political climate he saw her going somewhere.

in a highly emotional moment, slughorn says that lily is very brave and very funny. he can't imagine someone not liking her. people are better remembered in death, but slughorn is consistent in highlighting her humor. we also see a mention of her bravery. perhaps this is something he realized once she'd died. more likely he saw it in her during her school years.

the repeated traits we see from teenage lily in severus' memories and slughorn's recollection are being quick-witted, humorous, and brave/justice-seeking. she has a playful disposition and seems to have a secure sense of boundaries and decent emotional regulation for a teenager.

in her negative traits, we observe a propensity to use cruelty as a tool. however, we only see this in an intense moment. lily is not openly shown as someone with true bad traits, or as someone who changes over time, in the first six books.

james is given that complexity. snape's worst memory shows a pivotal moment for both men. this is the scene's point in the narrative: to offer complexity to these men. but is it a pivotal moment for lily? she is used to further both men's character development, but we see no change in her.

part 2 will discuss what we learn about lily in the 7th book.

[r0tt1ngv4mpyr]

MAXLEY HEADCANONS!

(REQUESTS OPEN)

//TW FOR SH//

MY MAX HEADCANONS:

•is hispanic

•has vitiligo on his hands and a bit on his face and wears gloves and foundation to cover it up

•has autism/adhd

•used to sh that's why he started skating is to not think about stuff as much

•is trans (ftm)

• has a skinny hourglass body by the hates it because it makes him look less masculine

•listens to more rock and metal but in general listens to mostly all genres (except slow songs, jazz, classical, country)

•has snakebites, septum, stretched gauges on his ears , and industrial piercings and a bell button piercing 😻 (also has a wolf cut)

•bi (pref male

MY BRADLEY HEADCANONS:

•is half american half italian

•he has freckles

•has ocd/anger issues

•loves black coffee with a little milk

•finds max's piercings hot

•would never get a piercing himself (scared of needles, doesn't think they look good on him, and his dad would never let him)

•has fluffy middle parted hair that was cut short but grew out to a shorter mullet

•religious trauma and daddy issues

•gay (mlm)

MY MAXLEY HEADCANONS:

•when they make out bradley puts his hands on max's waist/hips and sometimes he puts one hand on his waist/hips and grabs max's hair

•bradley was max's first time

•max will pick up random creepy ass bugs and bradley will be like "put. that. down."

•bradley is like 6,1 and towers over the 5,5 max

•max is very touch starved but isn't very used to touch (said in a headcanon earlier) and will do anything to get any affection from bradley but is really nervous when he gets it then just kinda melts

•definitely have some sort of history but max forgot and bradley didn't (maybe like childhood friends or smth)

•both unironically love the song "romance is boring" by los campesinos

•max loves horror movies and bradley hates them (they still watch them together tho)

•max says the most out of pocket shit and bradley just stares at him with his head tilted like "wtf?-"

OTHER PEOPLES HEADCANONS I LIKE (credits are included)

•bradley needs glasses bc he is nearsighted but doesn't wear them bc it takes away his cool - @thecat_inthe_cherryhat on tiktok

•bradleys mother died making his coexistence with his father uncomfortable, he does not hate his father, in fact he loves him but he does not know how to be and live with him, he does not want to admit it - @thecat_inthe_cherryhat on tiktok

•bradley's father is his weak point, he became conceited and rude as a way of defending his father's expectations - @thecat_inthe_cherryhat on tiktok

•he likes Britney Spears' music and has records but hides them from the - @thecat_inthe_cherryhat on tiktok

•Bradley is a law student, he was forced to go there because of his father but he still likes it a little - @thecat_inthe_cherryhat on tiktok

•he has a masculine image but his hygiene care makes his friends tell him that he is feminine, he uses lip balm because he doesn't like having dry lips - @thecat_inthe_cherryhat on tiktok

•When Bradley was in Middle school he used to wear baggy overalls has messy hair and wearer braces - @h4z3l_quits on tiktok

•Bradley used to be a kind and loyal kid! But when he got adopted by a rich family he started getting rude bc he was “spoiled” and he was raised to be perfect that’s why he’s competitive - @h4z3l_quits on tiktok

•max actually likes Bradley genuinely and just pretends that he likes roxanne and like tries desperately to get Bradley’s attention so he gets jelly - @chrys_linn on tiktok

•max is left handed so bradley is on his left side when he gets the chance just to see if one day they'll hold hands - @somnusgallery on tiktok

•max likes to play with Bradley's hair and Bradley gets embarrassed and ends up blushing every single time - @cassie_m328 on tiktok

•Max is ALWAYS bruised and patched up due to trying extreme shit with his skate and Bradley being the meticulous guy he is always brings stuff to patch Max up - @crowking.jpg on tiktok

•Max and Rox broke up due to them being young and immature and Max is mostly over it but he does feel he's not relationship material or isn't fully on board with one afterwards but THEN HE MEETS BRAD - @crowking.jpg on tiktok

•Max may be shorter but the moment he rizzes Brad up Brad loses his MIND like man's weak AF for Max's smooth ahh attitude - @crowking.jpg on tiktok

•Brad loosens up around Max overtime and let's go of his fragile masculinity and embraces open queerness and things he limited himself away from - @crowking.jpg on tiktok

•Brad and Max bring out the best in each other due to their competitive nature and ambition for improvement - @crowking.jpg on tiktok

[gladiatorcunt]

Modern coryo whos trying to sorta maybe manipulate his gf by being obsessed and then not reading her texts for 3 days but the gf is literally the same so it’ll be like

r: “heyyy” and then a day later he replies “heyaaa” and then it goes on like that for a week until he cracks and sends her 15 messages in the span of 4 minutes

cw: feminization/fem label “gf” but the reader is still only intended to be afab, the ask has she/her pronouns but i don’t use them in the writing, manipulation and toxic behavior, typical coryo/modern!coryo warnings, love bombing, not canon to the main au, black cat reader ish, reader has a shower in their dorm bc i say so 🤫, male masturbation

Now Coryo wouldn’t do this during your relationship, despite his best attempts to play it cool, you make him panic and he’s immediately resorting to rich boy love bombing (trips, those ridiculously expensive boxed roses, 999999999 rounds of oral on his yacht, a summer house, etc.) followed by baby trapping. He’s not stupid enough to try something like that deeper into your relationship, for him it’s about making sure the foundation is as solid as possible and not shaking it up.

This would really only happen before you even start dating, after he’s bumped into you in the dorms enough times to wear you down into giving him your number. He’s still in his “i have to the most mysterious person alive” mindset and he hasn’t quite shed the fuckboy persona yet. He doesn’t seek anybody out or anything, it was love at first sight with you unfortunately, he’ll just imply that that you’re another contact in a long list. (You’re the only one in his favorites 💀)

You’re smart enough to be wary, too involved in academics and proving yourself to go sniffing around Coriolanus Snow. You don’t really talk to a lot of people, and you’re not interested in a swarm of meaningless interactions. You’re just grateful that he stopped calling you so much, learning that you very much prefer texting. He’s the king of the “hey u up?” text, and you have the flattest look on your face as you reply “Yes.” and turn your phone face down. Exchanges like happen over and over.

Does your heart flutter when he insists on walking you to class and pecking your cheek at the door? Yes but you’ll roll your eyes and make a big deal out of wiping it off. Are you intrigued by how much he hauls ass to get you your coffee order whenever he senses that you need it (because he can, he’s like spiderman but lame)? Well, yes, but he must be playing some kind of game with you. Has a cliche bet with his fraternity brothers over your assumed virginity maybe. The more you’re determined to not fall for it, the more you find yourself slipping as the days go by.

Just when you turn your head when he pecks your cheek outside the lecture hall, expecting the gesture more than dreading it, he gives you a blank stare and turns on his heel. You take a second to blink and then shrug, it’s no skin off you back if Coriolanus decides to be normal for once. You definitely do not have a bit of a scowl throughout the entire session. (he nearly lost it when you didn’t react at the lack of a kiss, he kicked the wall and almost broke his foot)

He’s back to the “heyy” texts at random hours, responding to your “Hey.” that came a day later two days after that. He’s screaming into his pillow and pacing his grandma’am’s gardens, glaring at the staff pruning the shrubs. Coryo would rather die than admit defeat though, so he hardens his resolve. You’ll break eventually. You on the other hand are living normally, slurping ramen and working on essays. You’ve learned not get your hopes up over a pipe dream, the idea that someone like him would genuinely care about you being so laughable that you get over it rather quickly. You may be from different economic classes, but a man’s attention is never a necessity. That an he’s far from the only trust fund kid in the world.

A week later, your phone goes off in the middle of the night. You step out of the shower and dry yourself off, walking over to your bed and picking it up. To your surprise, the notification from Coriolanus isn’t another dry message, it’s several videos. They all look dark and fuzzy, ranging from 30 seconds to 10 minutes. In some of the thumbnails you can see flashes of bare skin. You click on the first one and are immediately faces with Coriolanus Snow’s sweaty abs.

You’re frozen as he eventually splatters jizz all over them, the camera work is shaky and the flash exposes too much for your liking. You can see his abdominal muscles twitch in the aftermath of his orgasm. He drags his fingers through his own cum and smears it over the camera, giving you a pov of what it’d be like to have your face covered in it.

Your phone chimes again.

Stalker: turn the sound on for the rest ;) see u at the car wash next friday, babe ❤️

You block him (after you save the videos and check the charge on your vibrator).

[gffa]

UGH GONNA THROW UP FROM FEELINGS, like I love Dick being used as the heart of the family one, the one that annoys you into cheering up, the one that emotionally connects with you and supports you, the one that’s a light in the darkness, but also that comes with the foundation of Dick understands Bruce in a really fundamental way. The whole story is about Hugo Strange trying to understand what makes Batman tick, the trauma that drives him, and he sees some of the shape of it, but he doesn’t really get the underlying meaning, that he sees Batman as someone driven by childhood trauma and that this is a weight that will eventually break him. Dick, on the other hand, understands that it being about Bruce’s childhood is what drives him to want to protect other people from that same kind of trauma, that it fuels him instead of being an obstacle he has to overcome to be Batman, that it’s not about his ego, it’s about his heart. And it has to be Dick that understands how to beat the giant monster that they’re facing, the one that’s a metaphor for the child inside. It has to be Dick that puts the pieces together and runs up the cable line and flings himself into the maw of the monster, the one who dives into that dark. It has to be Dick that understands that Strange got it wrong, that he read the book but didn’t understand the message. It has to be Dick that understands that Batman embraces his monsters and uses them for fuel. Because Dick is the one who knows Batman best here. Dick is the one who dove headlong into the dark of Batman when he was a child and brought light to Bruce’s life. Dick is the one who has his own childhood monster of trauma and loss inside him and uses it for fuel, too, he’s the one who shares that specific deep wound of the loss of their entire world shattering around them when their parents were murdered in front of them, that at the very, very heart of them, this is what drives them both. Dick is the one who has to understand what’s going on here, because nobody read the book of Bruce Wayne and understood it like Dick Grayson understood it, both because Dick went through the same thing himself and because he was the first, he was the one that broke down that wall that Bruce put up, the one that Bruce couldn’t keep at arm’s length, he’s the one who understands what it means to be driven by the child inside of you and how it makes them fly higher and further than they could have otherwise. It had to be Dick because he’s not just the nice one in the family, but he’s also the reflection of Bruce Wayne’s childhood traumatic loss, the one that mirrored Bruce more than anyone else when it comes to why they do what they do.  For all that Dick took that loss and turned towards the light with it in a way that Bruce struggles with (but this, too, is a reflection/extension of Bruce’s character in a bigger meta way, that Bruce's whole thing with Dick is that he’s the version of Batman that Bruce himself wants to see in the world, the one that comes from the same place but turns to hope and light to lead others), Dick absolutely understands why Bruce does what he does in a way that lets him recognize when others have an absolutely bullshit reading on Bruce’s motivations. ANYWAY I’M EMOTIONAL ABOUT BRUCE’S RELATIONSHIP WITH HIS OLDEST SON AND THE THEMES OF HOW DICK ISN’T JUST “FORMER ROBIN”, BUT THAT HE’S THE VERSION OF BRUCE WAYNE AND BATMAN THAT BRUCE WANTS TO EXIST IN THE WORLD.  AND THAT’S WHY IT HAD TO BE DICK WHO UNDERSTOOD WHAT STRANGE GOT WRONG ABOUT BATMAN’S MOTIVES.

[artssslut2]

Girl Dad x2

Art x Reader x Lily

Summary: You and Lily accidentally find out the gender of your baby and have to tell Art.

Note: Picture Lily around the ages 5-7 in this! (It doesn’t totally work with the timeline but just go with it)

You and Lily headed out the door for your ultrasound in the morning. Art was gonna be gone all day with the Donaldson foundation and was so bummed he had to miss the appointment. If he could have missed his meetings he would have, he hasn’t missed a single thing baby related since you got pregnant. No matter how small it was he was there. When Tashi was pregnant with Lily Art didn’t get to be as involved as he wanted to be, Tashi often didn’t want him at appointments for whatever reason, and it broke his heart. When you asked him to come he was surprised that you actually wanted him there.

“Of course I want you there, you’re the baby’s dad and my husband.” You told him holding his face in your he smiled leaning into your touch

“I love you more than anything.” He whispered pulling you in.

You and Lily were best friends, she was your little side kick and she wanted to go wherever you were. So today she was taking Arts place at the appointment. She was thrilled to be a big sister, she wanted to be one for as long as Art can remember. After he divorced Tashi he didn’t think he would ever give that to her, he was so happy that he found you and could make his dreams a reality.

“Y/n are we gonna find out if the baby is a boy or a girl today?” Lily asked sitting next to you to the table at the doctor’s office.

“Not today baby, we want to wait until they are born remember?” You smiled, Lily’s face scrunched in disappointment the same way her father’s does and you giggled. Before she could answer the nurse came in

“Hey guys! Who do we have here?” She asked enthusiastically motioning towards Lily,

“We have a big sister!” You said shaking Lily’s arm making her laugh “this is Lily.”

“Well you are very lucky to have such a wonderful mom Lily.” You laughed awkwardly, you saw Lily’s smile fade. You got those comments a lot but you tried to shrug them off for Lily’s sake.

The nurse left shortly after and the doctor came in. It was a new doctor because your normal one was on vacation, you greeted the doctor and introduced her to Lily and did the usual check up things before the doctor got the wand out. She squirted gel on your stomach and you flinched

“Is it cold?” Lily asked

“Very cold Lily pad” you said exaggerating a shiver

Shortly after you heard the heartbeat of your six month old baby,

“She looks great, strong heartbeat, 10 fingers and 10 toes.” The doctor said looking at the screen. Your mouth dropped open, did she just say she? The doctor noticed your face and realized what happened

“She… did you say she?” You asked sitting up a little bit,

“O-oh no, were you waiting was I not supposed to say. There wasn’t a note I’m so sorry.” You and Lily looked at each other in shock

“No no it’s ok. We’re having a little girl?” You asked again with teary eyes. The doctor gave a slight smile and nodded. Your heart fluttered

“Lily! You’re gonna have a little sister!” You yelled hugging her tightly. Lily was cheering and laughing

“I’m gonna have a sister!” She squeezed you so tightly. You couldn’t believe you were having a girl, secretly it’s what you wanted but you would have been fine with either.

“Thank you oh my god!” You told the doctor and she laughed with you both.

Later on when you got back to the car you noticed Lily was being really quiet, not her normal giggly self.

“You okay kiddo?” You asked her looking at her through the mirror,

“Yeah.” She answered blandly, you didn’t want to pry so you just nodded. A minute had passed and she hadn’t said anything

“Y/N?” She asked timidly from the back

“Yeah Lily?”

“I’m kind of sad.”

“Why what’s going on babe?” You asked, was she upset that the baby was a girl?

“When the lady called you my mom… I just sometimes get upset that the baby gets you as her mom and I don’t. I wish you were also my mom.” Lily said looking at the floor, you felt your heart melt with sadness and pride. She wanted you as her mom, that was such a compliment but you also didn’t want her to feel left out, she was your little girl too. You pulled into the mall parking lot and turned to look at her

“Oh Lily pad,I know I’m not your biological mom but that doesn’t mean I love you any less.” You told her reaching back and putting a hand on her knee. You saw her chin start to quiver

“But Max from school said that you won’t like me anymore when the baby is born because she’s your real baby.” She blurted out with a small sob. You physically felt your heart shatter, you worried this would happen

“Aw baby come up here.” You told her, she crawled into the front seat and hid her face in her knees, “just because I didn’t give birth to you doesn’t mean you aren’t my baby. I will love you just as much as your sister I promise. You are every bit as much of my child as this baby is Lily, don’t ever forget that, okay?” You told her, you felt tears poke at your eyes too but held them back, Lily looked up at you with wet eyes and nodded, you held her face with both hands “okay?” You smiled asking again,

“Okay.” She answers letting a smile grow on her face

“You know if anything you are even more lucky than your sister because you have two moms, you have your mother who is wonderful and loves you so much and you have me as like a bonus mom who also loves you so much.” You told her, Tashi was a great mom to Lily, and you and Tashi got along well. “I don’t know this Max kid but he sounds kind of dumb huh?” You joked and Lily giggled and agreed with you. Then Lily got quiet again and had a serious look

“Y/n since the baby will get too call you mom is it ok if… maybe I call you that too sometimes?” She asked timidly, your heart swelled and now tears did come to your eyes

“Oh Lily of course you can sweetheart.” You replied stroking her cheek and she smiled and hugged you the best she could over the armrests

“I love you.” She told you

“I love you too baby.” You kissed her cheek and pulled your hormonal self together “Now Lily we have a problem on our hands.” You said dramatically she giggled and listened “your daddy doesn’t know the baby is a girl. We have to find a perfect way to tell him that he’s gonna have another little princess running around!” You told her like it was a mission

“Do you think he will be mad that we found out?” Lily asked

“Not if we can find a good way to tell him. Let’s go look for ideas.” You laughed opening your car door and heading into Target with Lily in tow.

You and Lily had a very fun girls afternoon, you got a few too many outfits for your baby girl, including matching ones for Lily. You also got Lily a few new toys just to show how much you loved her, of course you both had to stop at Starbucks then you were on your way. Lily picked out a shirt for Art that said “Girl dad” she thought it would be a fun way to tell him and you agreed. Once you were home you both wrapped the shirt and put a note on it that said “x2” Lily was beyond excited that she found out before he did and that made you laugh. Finally Art got home from his meetings, he came through the door putting his bag down

“Where are my girls?” He called out like he always did

“Daddy!” Lily popped out from behind the door trying to scare him, she did this every night and Art always acted scared. He let out his dramatic scream that always cracked Lily up. He picked Lily up and threw her over his shoulder hurrying in to find you

“Did you hear what this little girl did to me!?” He said in a playful tone shaking Lily and putting her on your kitchen island as she laughed uncontrollably, then art saw the gift bag on the counter “well what’s this?” He asked coming over to kiss you

“We got you something daddy!” Lily answered quickly art looked surprised

“Did you?” He asked

“Yes we did” you smiled putting your arms around his waist

“Open it!” Lily shouted making you both laugh

Art took out the tissue paper, your stomach fluttered with nerves. What if he was mad that you found out without him

“Ooo what’s this… I love it Lily! Thank you guys!” He said holding up the t shirt clearly oblivious to what the shirt meant, you laughed to yourself at how cute your husband was

“Art look inside the bag, baby” you pushed the bag towards him, he looked in the bag and pulled out the note card. You couldn’t read his face yet. It felt like a lifetime had went on before he looked up at you. Tears were in his eyes, you were nervously looking at him

“Are we… are we having a girl?” He whispered as a stray tear fell from his eye

“Yes. I’m so sorry we didn’t mean to find out then the doctor-“ for a second you thought he was really upset but he interrupted you

“This is amazing y/n.” He cried pulling you into a hug with his face in your neck, you breathed out in relief

“You’re not mad?” You asked, he pulled away

“How could I be mad?” He smiled “Lily you’re gonna have a little sister!” He cheered pulling Lily into the hug. Your eyes welled up as you laughed with joy.

“You’re a girl dad, daddy” Lily told him

“I’m a girl dad Lily pad!” He yelled picking her up. He was thrilled to be having another girl he couldn’t wait to give Lily a sister.

Later on you Art and Lily were settling down and watching a movie on the couch. Lily sat between you and Art with her hand on your belly along with Arts hand. Lily loved feeling the baby move around inside of you, she also loved talking to your bump she would tell the baby all about her day. Art would do the same, like father like daughter. Art noticed Lily yawn

“Time for bed Lily girl” he said also yawning

“Mommy can you tuck me in please?” She asked sleepily Art looked at you with a surprised look, with all the excitement you forgot to tell him about your conversation with Lily, you gave him a look telling him that you would fill him in later and he smiled at you. You knew that it made Arts heart melt

“Of course I can Lily pad.” You said reaching out for her hand.

You were in love with your growing family.

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

Cod Men With a Reader who has powers

Requested: No

Warnings: Angst, blood mention

Ghost - Mediumship

The first time Ghost saw you talking to a corner of a wall he just sighed, already making a mental note to report you for a psych eval as he went on his way. It wasn’t until you approached him later that day, quiet and hesitant, that he started to get very confused. And then you leaned in, whispered in his ear, “Tommy says to look in the right hand pocket of his leather jacket.” And he was shell shocked, frozen in place as you went on your merry way, like you hadn’t just shaken the foundation of his sanity.

And he did check that jacket, dug it out of a dusty box in the long neglected storage unit he rented under a fake name. What was in it? A picture of him holding Tommy’s newborn, eyes soft as the little one clenched one of his big fingers in both of his tiny hands. On the back, Tommy's chicken scratch handwriting in faded blue ink read “Happiest day of my life. We all love you, Uncle Simon.”

Soap - Invulnerability

The first time Soap ever learned of this he wasn’t even phased, just immediately asked you if he could launch a bazooka at you and see what happens. And you, being the mad bastard that you are, fucking let him, the sheer force of the explosion sending you flying back and crashing through several trees. He attributes it as one of the funniest moments in his life, and he was laughing even as Price made him do laps until he dropped.

While you’re in a relationship with him, it’s really not that much different. He maybe gets a tad more squeamish about recklessness with your power. Okay, maybe a tad is a bit of an understatement. In truth, he’s fucking terrified. He’s scared that you might get hurt, that maybe, even if it was just once, you were left vulnerable and you would be unable to recover. Or worse, that you’d die. The thought plagued him everytime you rush in, uncaring of your own safety until he basically starts bubble wrapping you before every mission.

Alejandro - Super Strength

Alejandro was never a huge fan of the superhuman program. It was nothing against the actual people in the program and more to do with the people who ran it. How they made the people under them miserable, treated them as less than human. It annoys him, makes him angry. Especially when he meets someone as nice as you, always eager to lend a hand around base. Whether it be lifting up a particularly heavy crate of food or tilting a whole automobile to the side when the carjack broke.

But there are moments when he’s reminded of how utterly different he is from you. When he gets to see your not to kind side, as you rip heads from bodies, sharp teeth bared and bloodied like some kind of beast among the corpses of its prey, a snarl on your face and a growl emitting low from within your chest. It….it probably should not have given him such a big hard on. It was even worse when Rudy saw and teased him about being a monster fucker.

König - Size Shifting

König is so utterly confused when he watches you disappear right before his eyes one day. A blink and you’re gone. At first he thinks that maybe you’re a teleporter but then he catches a glimpse of you scampering around on the kitchen floor, clearly looking for something in your tiny form. He thinks he scares you when he kneels down to ask you if you need help, finding it adorable when you jump but quietly accept his offer.

Ever since then you two slowly became inseparable. His favorite modes of yours are either teeny tiny or absolutely fucking gigantic. If you go tiny then he loves to have you inside his mask, cuddling up to his face. Or have you on his shoulder during lunch time, feeding your little crumbs of his food until you feel like you’re gonna pop. But he so loves it when you’re big too, picking him up like a baby and cradling him against your chest, or swinging him above your head while laughing. And oh the cuddles are so nice when you’re wrapped around him so fully. He can’t remember the last time he ever felt so safe.

[themonotonysyndrome]

Ě̸̡̞̱̘̹̮̫͚̯͍͕̟̪͂̀̋̉̾͛̂̑̅͜͝c̴̢̺̟̣̠̤̽͋͒̄̄͂̆̿͗̑̊̒̒̕ḧ̷͇͍͉͉̺͈͙́̀͆̀̒̒̅̒͒̔̽ó̶͔̜̓͛̓̂̔̆͌́͆̉͂͘͝͠es of regrets

So! I saw this post from @rivyx (if you like, I can untag you. Just wanna give credit where credit is due):

And I thought:

"Man. It's been a while since I broke my own heart. Oh! Angst between Geordi and Cutie? How about I make Geordi regret for making Cutie believe that they need to multiate and hide the magical part of themselves and even the Empowered world because he doesn't understand a Telepath's needs?"

Hence. This oneshot. Shout out to @moonandstarlightsposts for helping me come up with the title!

(Yes. Yes. I know. Cutie was canonically at fault, too. I just wanna focus on Geordi regretting his actions for a change.)

-

Summary: Second chances come and go. But for Geordi and Cutie, perhaps they should have let it go by.

First comes the awkwardness. 

It’s to be expected. A break was decided - no, needed - for the both of them after… well. No point in digging up bad memories. The two of them were heading down a dangerous spiral, and Geordi could no longer ignore the red flags. He’d been through too much to drown in toxicity and abuse again. Whether his partner realised it or not. And that’s the part that crushed his heart. A heart that Geordi painstakingly put back together with liquid gold and long nights of tearful frustrations. He told them about Ben. He told them how his ex callously disregarded his boundaries. And Cutie just - 

Therapy was something they agreed to during their break. Geordi needed to address old trauma that re-open like wounds and Cutie - 

‘I… I hope this isn’t me coming across as presumptuous, but one of my coworkers is a really good therapist. I think you’ll like him! His name is Cam - ’

‘I still have my old therapist’s number. Um. Thanks, though.’

‘O-Oh! Right. Of course. I should’ve thought of that. I just… never mind.’

That was the last text that Cutie sent. Even after they moved out of his apartment, the two continued to exchange careful messages with one another, awkwardly making sure not to step on each other’s landmines. However, as days gone by, the texts became more and more superficial: ’Morning. Have you eaten?’. ‘Just cereal. Thanks for checking up on me.’ ‘The weather forecast mentioned a thunderstorm. Don’t forget an umbrella, ok?’. When Cutie brought the subject of therapists to the table - 

The texts stopped after that. 

Geordi had no idea how lonely his existence truly was without Ben and Cutie. The two-bedroom apartment became too big. He cooked too much for a single person. His left side felt too exposed whenever his coworkers dragged him out for drinks and karaoke. It hurts. He has a habit of rubbing his left arm nowadays. 

His therapist is a kind woman, the kind that has laugh lines all over her face. Older than him, more at ease with her place in the world, unlike Geordi. She never judges him whenever he finds the courage to unravel before her. Ugly, jagged broken pieces for a heart. Gold and bitter tears for the next few months. 

Soon, a year passes. 

Something settled within Geordi then. New foundations were built. The world is a little less lonely now that he has opened up to his coworkers, reached out to some cousins on phones and slowly put himself out there again. He had fallen in love with building LEGOs recently. A hobby that happily kept him occupied while a slow, reverb version of Evil by Melanie Martinez plays in the background of the living room. 

It took a while, but he finally reached a point and mental headspace to put Cutie back into the equation. 

His therapist's words constantly echo in his head, grounding him whenever his fingertips run on the rim of their favourite mug, red with little ladybugs on the ceramic. Witty, funny, confident, mischievous and kind - Cutie’s best would always outshine their worst in Geordi’s eyes. Perhaps that’s why he subconsciously ignores the raising red flags the more and more they tested his boundaries. Anyway, being with Cutie brought out the best of Geordi in return, which he never even knew existed. He loved them, plain and simple. He loves learning about them and their world every day of the week. He was so happy and content whenever they were in his arms. Growing old together was something he thought about when they drove back home from his folks’. Cutie was fast asleep, with their head gently resting against the window of the car. That moment was magical in its own way. 

Geordi misses them. His incredible, one-of-a-kind partner. 

He thinks about them more often than not nowadays, wondering how therapy is going for them. Had they fallen in love with any new hobbies? Did Cutie make any new friends outside of the Department? If so, he wonders what they’re like. 

Thoughts turn to yearning. Yearning turns to Geordi, picking up his phone and texting Cutie first for once.

‘Hey. Good morning. How are you?’

The two of them never used to be awkward when they were a couple. Feeling hopeful, Geordi puts aside his phone as he continues about his day. Fixing himself a hearty lunch using a recipe that he can’t wait to share with Cutie and goes about doing the laundry afterwards. It’s only after his evening shower that a notification lights up on his phone screen. 

‘Hey. I’m alright. You?’

Superficial. That’s OK, though. Geordi is not giving up. 

The two resume texting every day soon enough as if the distance weren’t ever there. It makes him happy to be updated with every little thing that is going on in Cutie’s life. He spams GIFs and emojis at every picture they share and they, in return, slowly start to send over recorded audio of their little laughter and quips. It makes him miss them all the more. Enough to replay those audios over and over again whenever he can’t sleep at night. During those nights, his phone would always be on the right side of the bed.

Texting eventually evolves to calling when Geordi wakes up from a rather bad nightmare. Something so vague that it slipped from the recess of his conscious as he panted for air. Without even thinking about it, he presses on a familiar number. His call is answered almost immediately. 

“Geordi? Why are you awake around this hour?”

Relief floods into his very being. They once fondly tease him that, no, their voice isn’t magic. Unlike Vampires and their special eyes, Telepaths specialised in minds instead. It’s his love that makes their voice special and it’s love that dispels the lingering nightmare. 

“Geordi?” Cutie’s voice is hesitant at the end of the line. “Is everything ok? Do you have someone nearby that you can call for help?” 

“No! No, no. I’m fine.” Comes his quick assurance. The shirt that he brought to sleep is drenched in sweat. His hair is matted to his forehead. He feels gross, and yet he doesn’t want to put Cutie on loudspeaker while he cleans himself up. “I just… really miss you. So much.” 

Cutie’s reply is a whisper, “I-I miss you too. Can I ask if that’s the reason why you called me?” 

“Yeah… had a nightmare; can’t remember what it was about. What I do remember is how you used to bring me to the kitchen, and you’d make warm chocolate milk for the both of us to help. You’d then talked me through it, helped me calm me down. Did I ever thank you for that? Thank you, by the way.” 

“You’re welcome. I like taking care of you. And, uh, you did thank me. Always.” 

Geordi lets out a ragged sigh. Those happy moments were just what he needed. “Did I wake you up? I didn’t mean to.” 

“Nah, you’re good. I was doing some leftover documents for an assignment.” 

Cutie never used to stay up past midnight. They like to sleep early whenever they can due to how mentally, emotionally, and physically taxing their job as an intel extraction officer can be. Cutie often rants about how the Department inefficiently run things, especially when it comes to bureaucracy. Perhaps this is one of their new habits? Speaking of which - 

“How’s work treating you? Did you get that promotion?” 

“Work’s alright. Are you feeling better now?” 

Well, his heart was no longer racing, that’s for sure. But he still wants to hear their voice even through the static. “Like magic. You’re always the perfect cure for everything.” He waits for Cutie to laugh in that out-of-breath sort whenever he compliments them. Light and carefree.

Instead, they hum. 

“Glad to hear it. Are you going to try and go back to sleep?” 

“Only when you are, Cutie.” Geordi tries to flirt and perhaps coax them to rest for the evening. 

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll go to bed in a bit. Um. If that’s all - ”

Perhaps it’s because the nightmare that he can no longer recall had something to do with Cutie. Perhaps it’s because he hasn’t heard their voice properly in so, so long. Whatever it is, it gave Geordi a burst of courage. He quickly asks before Cutie can hang up, “Wait, wait! Can I see you, Cutie? I just want to talk. Please?” He swallowed thickly. “I think we’re ready to discuss about… us.” 

A thoughtful silence from Cutie. 

“I’d like that. Where do you want to meet up?” 

Geordi’s night becomes much sweeter after that. They talk and plan until his eyes grow heavy and Cutie’s documents are filed away. They even put him on loudspeaker and brought him to the bathroom so they could continue talking while they showered. God, the sounds of running water alone fill him with wants and images. He can’t stop picturing himself in that shower with them. So you can’t blame how incredibly giddy Geordi is when he finally sees Cutie walk up to the cafe the next day. They offered him a small smile as they made themselves comfortable across the table. Healthy and rocking a new fashion style when Geordi is busy absorbing every little detail about them. He could honestly stare at them like a work of art in the Louvre. 

“So I’m here…” Cutie says rather unnecessarily. They scratch their cheek nervously. “You wanted to talk?” 

He snaps out of a daze. Shit, he got distracted by his thoughts! For a split second, Geordi can’t help but wonder if they heard his inner ramblings. Judging by Cutie’s guarded expression, he lets out a sigh of relief. It sets his heart at ease to learn about this new side of Cutie. “Yeah. Thanks for agreeing to meet up with me. You look… god, Cutie. You look amazing.” 

“Thanks! You’re not too bad on the eye yourself.” Cutie’s smile is wider now. “We’ve practically caught up to speed with each other lives for a while now. So, this is it. Whatever you decide, I’ll respect it this time. I promise.” 

That assurance dissolves any doubts that Geordi might have harboured. He’s more sure about his next few words than ever before. “I still want us to be together, Cutie. That never changed. Even when we were on a break, I had no one else. I love you, even when you broke my heart. Do you… do you still feel the same?” 

Cutie reaches out to hold his hand, which is gripping a fork so tightly. He didn’t even realise it. The moment when skin meets skin, a familiar warmth spread across his arm. It’s like sunshine thawing out the chills in his bone marrow. He lets go of the fork in favour of holding their hand and squeezes it. “My feelings haven’t changed too. I love you so damn much, Geordi. I know I said it before, but I’m so sorry for hurting you. Words alone aren’t enough to promise you that I won’t do it again, but I’ll make sure my actions make up for it. From now on, you’ll lead where this relationship is going. I’ll follow” Steely determination glimmers behind Cutie’s eyes. God, they look so hot! Would his therapist finally judge him if he asked Cutie to drag him to the bathroom for a quickie? It’s been too long since they’re in him. 

“Geordi? Are you ok? You look flush.” Some of that hesitation creeps back into Cutie. Dimming that spark of fire. He panics when their hand tugs back. 

“Yeah! Sorry. My head’s a bit of a mess.” He begins to explain. Here, he lowered his voice; his eyes lidded. “Maybe you can make sense of it? You might like what you find, Cutie…” 

“Oh!” For some reason, Cutie looks positively alarmed. A deer in a headlight. He had never seen that kind of look on their face before. Their sudden reaction threw Geordi off guard. Any lustful thoughts are completely replaced with concern now. “Maybe later. So, uh, where do we go from here? I can’t move back in just yet due to my apartment lease. Or do you want things to stay as they are right now for a little while longer?” 

Continue this distance between them? Geordi doesn’t think he’s that strong of a man.

“Feel free to move in any time you can. My place is your home. You know that.” 

That gorgeous smile slowly returns. This is Cutie at their best. After that day, things begin falling into place without a hitch. Cutie is back in his life. They bring their clothes and toiletries over when their lease is up - 

“You kept my mug?” 

“Of course I did, silly. Why would I throw it out?” 

“Right… right. Sorry.” 

“Cutie? Is something wrong?” 

“Nah, don’t worry about it. Say, that recipe you bookmarked earlier, why don’t you let me take a crack at it? I’ll handle dinner tonight!” 

- their routines fall into one once more, and Geordi couldn’t be happier. His world is no longer filled with silence and bitterness.

Second comes the realisation. 

Geordi has been riding high on cloud nine ever since Cutie settled back into his apartment, into his life. Waking up to their sleeping face feels like a dream that he never wants to end. Their giggling when he rouses them with kisses is a bonus. He loves greeting the morning sun with a partner who is happy and satiated from the night before. And if Cutie is in the mood to play? Well! He’s more than happy to ruin the sheets for the third time in the span of six hours. 

And don’t even get him started on domestic bliss. 

Since Cutie’s work hours are a lot more flexible than Geordi’s, he’s forever grateful that they always have a pot of hot coffee ready for him on the table and a sweet kiss before he dashes out for the day. If he returns before traffic picks up in the evening, the couple would either go out for a dinner date or stay at home and binge-watch a new series while they eat in the living room. They alternate in cooking and cleaning depending on their schedule, but Cutie seems to have a habit of doing both whenever they can. The coworkers that he invited over for DnD sessions would whistle and nudge him on the shoulder when they looked around the spotless apartment, praising him for scoring the perfect partner after Cutie left them with a tray of snacks and drinks. Internally, Geordi preens. 

When the weekends roll around, and it’s just the two of them lazying together in their sweats and old t-shirts, Geordi and Cutie would spend time together by combining their new hobbies. Geordi would lose himself in another LEGO building project while Cutie reads a novel on their phone on the couch. His favourite playlists play on and on, wrapping the couple in a peaceful cocoon. 

That is until - 

Geordi blinks, back in the present, when he suddenly hears the sliding door of the balcony softly shut. He sees Cutie outside talking on the phone, their back against him. He watches them moving their free hand animatedly for a few seconds longer before focusing back on the tower that he had been building. When the sliding door shuts again, he absentmindedly asks, “Hey, Cutie? What are you in the mood for lunch? Do you want to go to that Chinese restaurant down the street or…” His words trail off the moment he notices the frustrated lines on his partner's forehead. Their eyes were exhausted all of a sudden. Before he could say anything, his partner flashed an apologetic smile. 

“Work called. Something came up. I need to step out in a bit, but I should have some time to make lunch - ”

Geordi stops them right there and then. He doesn’t want them to get more stressed out, especially when an emergency - he assumed - just happened. “No, no. Don’t sweat it. How about you go get ready while I make us lunch? I’d rather you have something in your stomach before you leave.” He replies, already up on his feet. 

Deer in a headlight on Cutie. Again. What’s going on? “I can do it. It’s your rest day after all - ”

“Nu-uh. You just get your pretty ass in the shower, alright? I’ll have your favourites ready as soon as you step out of our bedroom door again.” Geordi assures them, but in reality? He’s so confused. They never so stressed out about cooking before. Seriously, what’s going on? 

Cutie eventually nods. They kiss him on the cheek and make a beeline for the bathroom while Geordi takes out a wok and spatula. Their strange behaviour remains in his mind as he makes spicy stir-fry noodles. Now that he thinks about it, they’ve been going along with everything he likes nowadays. Cooking his favourite meals, making sure the laundry is clean and folded, helping him with the LEGOs, hanging out with his friends and letting him initiate intimacy and sex every time. They laugh when he tells jokes, as cheesy as they are. Apart from their clothes and toiletries, they haven’t brought back their Digimon plushies, or any of their physical books on the shelves. They hate horror movies, but when he absentmindedly suggests they watch Saint Maud, they agree without any hesitation. 

It’s like they’re a satellite, faithfully orbiting Geordi’s every need and want. Why… why did he never notice that before? And when was the last time they went out to Cutie’s favourite restaurant again? When was the last time they did what Cutie wanted for a change? 

Ah. Geordi remembers now. It was before they went on a break. 

Something’s wrong with Cutie. Shit! Why didn’t he notice it before!? Was he truly caught up in his own world that he utterly neglected his partner’s? 

The noodles are hot and plated, ready on the table, but Geordi feels so cold and empty. Guilt was heavy in his stomach. His grin is stiff when Cutie finally emerges wearing their standard work fit. Even in black slacks and a white collared shirt, Cutie looks like a model ready for the runway. They tuck into their meal, but Geordi doesn’t have much appetite for it. So many thoughts clash with one another in his head like angry hornets. He doesn’t even know where to start or what to ask. At times like this, Cutie would slip into his mind and act as his anchor. But ever since they got back together again - 

“What time would you be coming home?” Is what comes out from Geordi’s lips, frustrated with himself. 

Cutie stops washing their dishes to turn around. “If all goes well? In the evening. Probably before midnight, so you don’t have to wait up or put aside dinner for me. I can just grab something when I leave the office.” 

And that’s another thing that Geordi just now realised. They don’t talk about work as much as they did before. When asked, sure, Cutie would always answer him, but it was never more than a, “Oh, my cases? Some old, same old.”, “These documents are pretty boring, actually. Something for the higher-ups to keep in their record.”, “The therapist I mentioned before? Oh, you mean Cam? He’s still working on the floor above mine.” Lukewarm. Tepid. Those are the kinds of replies that Cutie would often give him before the conversation seamlessly shifts to another topic. 

Not once have they performed magic around him. In fact, ever since they got back together again, Cutie’s voice is constantly absent in his mind. 

Suddenly, Geordi feels sick. He forces himself to put on a brave face, a mask that tells his partner that everything is alright, because their eyebrows begin to furrow in hesitation. 

And now he knows why. 

“Call me when you leave?” Geordi tries not to plead. His voice didn’t crack, that good. The last thing he wants is to get the love of his life in trouble with their superiors. They never did tell him if they received that promotion or not. 

It’s a bittersweet victory when Cutie smiles again. “Sure! Have fun with your project, baby.” 

They exchange a long kiss; he wonders if they find it weird that Geordi is reluctant to pull their lips away from him. He weeps and weeps into his hands when they leave the apartment. What has he done? Oh god, Cutie… he didn’t mean to. He didn’t mean to drive them into cutting a part of themselves in order to make him happy. He didn’t mean to be so blinded when they made themselves smaller and smaller if that’s what they thought would make him happy. Would let them stay in his life. 

He didn’t mean to hurt Cutie. He didn’t mean for any of this to happen! He thought that - he had hoped they got better, not - why couldn’t they just talk - has he become Ben? 

Mrs Potato Head plays on and on while Geordi struggles to breathe. 

Finally, in comes the heartbreak. 

Geordi didn’t even wait for Cutie to come back. The moment he regained control of himself, he ran out with his phone and wallet. His eyes are rimmed-red, just like the setting sun behind him. He knows which streets are veiled against people like him; he just hopes he can ask for help from any Empowered folks who might be entering the Department. He has to fix this. He desperately needs to talk to Cutie. He needs them to know that he loves every part of them, that he loves the magical world as much as they do. 

However, when he cuts through the park, he freezes. 

Sitting on a bench a little further from the playground is his partner, crying in the arms of a stranger. Cracks begin to form in Geordi’s heart. He’s too far away to hear what they’re saying, but judging from how the stranger does the talking and Cutie sighs and sniffles, it clued him in pretty quickly that they’re talking through him via telepathy. The stranger smiles sadly and offers them a handkerchief. His body language is serene, but the expression on his beautiful face is tight and worried. Is he a coworker? Another lover? Geordi doesn’t know what to believe anymore. Stricken, he watches them pat the stranger’s hand and gathers up their things. Leaving him on the bench as Cutie makes their way out of the park. 

It’s at that moment that Geordi’s phone rings. He answers the call without a word. 

“Hey, baby. Just left the office.” Cutie’s voice is hoarse. They clear their throat. This time, they sound more like themselves again - fake and bright. “Turns out one of the interns needed a stand-in instructor for tomorrow’s fieldwork. Since I’m on the way home, do you want me to grab anything?” 

Geordi watches them wait at the same bus stop from which he just got off. “Why haven’t you talked to me through my head?” 

“…Geordi, I’m out right now. Can we maybe talk about this at home?” 

“OK. Why have you stopped ironing your work clothes with your hands?” 

“I-I like using your new iron instead. What’s going on, Geordi? Did I do something wrong? Look, tell me how I can fix it, please? I don’t… I don’t know what I did wrong…” 

Is this how it will always be when they’re together? Hurting each other whether they mean to or not? Acts of love turning into subservience? 

The weaker side of him can’t help but wonder if it was a mistake for him and Cutie to get back together again if it means new sorrows and new regrets will always sour their relationship. 

[hollandorks]

haven

battinson! bruce wayne x f! reader

chapter two

Summary: After the sudden deaths of your mother and grandmother, you’re forced to return home to Gotham…and to the man who broke your heart three years ago. Back in Bruce Wayne’s inescapable orbit, you vow to get to the bottom of your former best friend’s new cold personality. But Bruce’s secrets aren’t what you’re expecting. a

a/n: I have like six chapters written and a rough (mental) outline of the next four or so, so I'm going to keep posting pretty frequently! I mostly want to get these first few posted to get a nice foundation going...and also because I'm greedy for the attention. Enjoy!

Series Masterlist

word count: 2.5k

Her childhood bedroom was exactly as she had left it three years ago, free of dust, the linens on the bed so fresh she could still smell the detergent. 

She threw herself onto the bed and finally let herself cry.

The funerals were a small, somber affair two days later. 

Y/n’s mother’s only guests were her sponsor, a distant cousin she had been close with, and a neighbor. Dory’s guests included Bruce and Alfred, along with a few friends, her sister, and her niece and her family. Though the number of guests were few, y/n knew her grandmother was well loved. 

As the sermon commenced, y/n found herself aching for just one more hug, one more story, one more smile. 

And her mother…the grief for her was unexpected and sharp. She had been a bad mother, yes, but in recent years she’d made an effort. She got help for her addictions. Apologized. Sent the occasional card or letter. Took her own mother to appointments when y/n was too much of a coward to face Bruce. 

She couldn’t stop the tears, but she hung on every word said over them in goodbye. She wanted to speak for them, to say her own goodbye, but she couldn’t bring herself to. It was too hard. The hardest thing she’d ever done. 

And when Alfred stepped up to the podium, his kind words made her choke on emotion, her muffled sob echoing in the space despite her best efforts to smother it. 

She half expected Bruce to comfort her, to try to make her laugh like he had when they were young. But he made sure Alfred sat between them, the space yawning wide like a chasm instead of the length of a single chair. When she glanced over at him, his eyes were on her, his hands bunched into tight fists on top of his knees. 

Were those…bruises across his knuckles? She frowned even as he continued to watch her. Well, he had gone through a street racing phase when they were in high school. Maybe he was into boxing now. She had no way of knowing. 

She met his eyes once more and her already broken heart broke a little more when he turned away without a word. 

She ached for one more smile, one more hug, from Bruce as much as from her grandmother. It was another type of grief, but worse because she could get those things, if only their relationship was still alive. He was there, he was alive, but he was just as far away as the two people in the coffins before her were. 

After the funerals and the reception at her grandmother’s church, y/n followed Alfred and Bruce out of the elevator at Wayne Tower. It felt as if she had aged ten years in the span of three days. Her steps were heavy as she trudged towards her room. Tomorrow, she thought tiredly, she would have to go through her grandmother’s things. Alfred told her that she didn’t have to, that everything could stay as it was–but she knew that she had infringed upon Bruce Wayne’s generosity for too long already. 

In her own room again, she tried to go to sleep. It wasn’t late, but she was exhausted, and she wanted her brain to turn off for a little while. She didn’t want to think, to remember, to go over every single thing she would never get to do again with her grandmother. She didn’t want to think about Bruce’s gaze on her at the funeral, his hands in fists, his lips pressed tightly together. 

She had lost everyone who loved her, except for Alfred. 

The loneliness and the grief were sharp in her chest. 

Hours later, she was still awake. 

With a groan, she rolled over, defeated. It was nearly midnight. 

She stood and changed into something more comfortable. 

She needed to get out. Out of the place of so many memories, good and bad. Every moment in Wayne Tower was like being chased by ghosts. One moment, she saw herself and Bruce at eight years old, chasing each other up and down the stairs. In the next, she saw her grandmother teaching her how to properly carry a tray of tea to Mr. and Mrs. Wayne. In the next, she heard Bruce’s angry words echo off of the vaulted ceiling as he broke her heart. 

Y/n shuddered as she walked towards the elevator that would take her down and out. 

“Where are you going?” a gruff voice asked, nearly making her scream. 

She whirled around. Bruce was half-hidden in the shadows. 

“Out,” she said, feeling oddly like a teenager again. Dory and Alfred had caught her sneaking out many a night. Somehow, they’d never caught Bruce, but always caught her. She had that same guilty feeling now, spreading sticky fingers through her like a flush of heat. 

Bruce stepped into the weak light from the lamp on the entry table. “Out where?” 

“God, what are you, my father?” she asked with a roll of her eyes. “Just out, Bruce.” 

“In Gotham?” he asked, incredulity coloring his tone. His dark eyebrows disappeared into the lengths of his hair. “It’s too dangerous.” 

“Never stopped me before,” she said with a shrug. She missed him so much she relished each word he gave her, even if they were a reprimand. She needed to leave before she got stuck in an argument with him–or worse, cried. “See you later.” 

She hit the button for the elevator and startled all over again when Bruce grabbed her wrist. She hadn’t heard him close the distance between them. How could someone so tall and broad move so silently, she wondered. And then she realized that he was touching her bare skin, and electricity crackled up her arm. 

She wanted to lean into him. God, she missed him.

But then he ruined the moment. “No. It’s too dangerous, y/n.” 

Anger rose within her, wild and unstoppable and full of thorns. She bristled at it. “I don’t care.” She yanked her arm away and stepped into the now-open elevator. Even three years away couldn’t tamper the hurt she still felt. It was as fresh at it had been the day he’d ripped out her heart. “I can’t stand to be in this place another second.” 

He took a step forward too, blue eyes blazing. “Let me at least–” 

“You’ve done enough,” she snapped. The words seemed to stun him into stillness. Which worked for her, because then the doors slid closed, and she was whisked down and away, just like she wanted. 

She slumped against the far wall of the elevator, suddenly tired again. She wondered if Bruce was watching her on the security camera she knew was in the upper left corner. She knew he was trying to look out for her–he always had, even as kids when he was much smaller and scrawnier than her–and she had thrown it back in his face. But she was so damn tired. Tired of pretending like she wasn’t hurting. Of pretending like she could look him in the eyes without remembering how much she loved him. Of pretending like things might ever be able to go back to the way they used to be. Of pretending like she wasn’t fucking lonely.

Cold air assaulted her as she stepped outside of the tower. The security guard had barely given her a second glance. She was an adult now and not technically sneaking out, so he didn’t care what she did. 

It smelled like it had rained recently or would rain again soon. 

She inhaled deeply. Something in her settled. Gotham might stink like any other city but it was a familiar kind of stink. Almost comforting. And the damp smell underneath it was another comfort, one Bludhaven didn’t have to offer with its drier climate. 

Y/n turned and walked off with no direction in mind. Maybe she’d stop by the diner on the corner three blocks away. She and Bruce had eaten many a late night meal there. She hadn’t had dinner, either, and was suddenly ravenous. Had she eaten lunch? She couldn’t remember eating anything before leaving for the funerals. 

She made sure to keep aware of her surroundings because, as much as she hated to admit it, Bruce was right. Gotham was dangerous. It always had been. It didn’t matter that there was some freak in a bat costume running around, either. He could only do so much. And it didn’t matter that a lot of the corruption had been rooted out by that serial killer, Edward Nashton, the man called the Riddler. Gotham had a way of turning even the best of people into something rotten. It was only a matter of time before another guy in a costume showed up or another mayor turned bad. 

Y/n’s mind turned to the bat guy as she scanned the shadows around her. Maybe she’d get lucky, catch a glimpse. She had read a lot of op-ed articles over the past three years while he’d been active. She wasn’t sure what to make of him. She had to admit, he was doing good for the city. One article in particular came to mind–an interview with Lieutenant James Gordon at the GCPD. He apparently worked with the Batman often and they had caught the Riddler together. 

One line in particular stood out to her. Those days, in a city where I wasn’t sure who to trust on my own team, I trusted him. 

And somehow, this Lieutenant Gordon had avoided being a target of the Riddler, which had to count for something. Because as psycho as he was, Nashton had targeted the corrupt. Well, except for Bruce Wayne. She still couldn’t forgive him for trying to blow up Bruce and almost succeeding with Alfred. 

She slipped into the diner, busy despite the late hour, her mind still swirling with thoughts of serial killers and vigilantes and cops.  

She took the last free booth in the corner, the cold night air following her inside. An old jazz song hummed in the background and the air smelled like bacon and burnt toast. Her stomach announced its emptiness again, loudly. 

She was still thinking of the vigilante as she placed her order with an older waitress with hair the color of wine. 

What was to stop the Batman from becoming like the Riddler? They both had taken justice into their own hands and only one was in prison. The Batman hadn’t killed anyone….that they knew of. So why did the city laud him and crucify the other? 

Although, she thought as she dug into her stack of chocolate chip pancakes, there had been protests and riots in regards to the Riddler. Enough people had believed in him that a group of them had tried to shoot up Gotham Square Garden in the floods. 

Her head was pounding now. The part of her brain that made her a good reporter was latching on to the idea of vigilantes and the line between good and bad. She wanted to write an op-ed article herself, but her thoughts on the matter weren’t original in the slightest. 

Maybe, while she was in the city, she’d run into the vigilante and ask for an interview. In a city of criminals like Gotham, the chances were relatively high of seeing the vigilante at least once. 

She snorted quietly to herself. That was an unoriginal thought if there ever was one. She would bet money that any reporter worth their salt had tried and failed to interview the Batman. Which probably had involved at least a few getting into trouble on purpose. And still, nothing on his identity. Hell, even his friend Lieutenant Gordon was pretty tight lipped about him, despite telling the world how much he trusted the vigilante. 

“Hey,” she asked her waitress as she brought the receipt over. The cracked vinyl seat creaked as she leaned forward. “Ever seen that Batman guy? I’m from out of town, so…” She shrugged, gave a coy smile. 

It was technically the truth. She’d been gone for three years, and in that short amount of time, Gotham had birthed all kinds of crazies, including the Batman and the Riddler. It was a running joke in Bludhaven, who only had “normal” criminals. 

The waitress shrugged. “I haven’t ever seen him, no. But it makes me feel better working so late, knowing he’s out there.” She inserted y/n’s card into a handheld credit card machine. 

Y/n nodded and chewed her lip. “How do you know he’s on your side, though? That Riddler guy last year did alright, up until the flooding and the shooting.” 

The waitress’s expression soured. “Batman’s never killed anyone, good or bad. Ever since he became…you know, a vigilante…he never killed anyone. Ask around and you’ll eventually find someone he saved from a mugging or an armed robbery. Or, more likely, someone he helped when all the higher ups left us to fend for ourselves in the floodwaters.” 

“Wow,” y/n said after a moment. The waitress had…fierce opinions about the vigilante. “I didn’t realize he was so…loved.” 

The woman shrugged again. She handed the card and receipt over. “I’m just saying, he looks out for the little guy.” 

Y/n absently tapped her bank card on the table. “Well, that’s good to know. Maybe I’ll see him out there, yeah?” She laughed lightly. 

“Probably better than you don’t, because then that means he’s saving you from something.” The waitress winked and went to another of her tables. 

Y/n was really itching to write an article now. Wouldn't it be great if she were the one to get to the bottom of the mystery surrounding the Batman? Maybe her editor would loan her out to the Gotham Tribune or another newspaper for a special assignment. 

She scoffed quietly as she got up to leave. They would simply tell her the truth–there wasn’t anything special enough about her to be the one to succeed where so many others had failed. The only special thing about her was that she had been raised alongside a billionaire. A billionaire who didn’t even want to be her friend anymore.

As she stepped out of the diner, she turned left instead of right. Right would have led her to Wayne Tower, and she definitely wasn’t ready to go back. Talking to the waitress about the vigilante had lit an all too familiar fire within her. The kind of fire that usually burned her, but always led to a hell of a good story by the end. 

The kind of fire that made her do stupid things, like stop when she heard a muffled sound from the end of an alley. 

The kind of fire that made her sneak forward, into the shadows, to see several men huddled over two other figures. 

The two on the ground were both hooded and bound with hands behind their backs. But one was slumped over while one was still on their knees. 

And that same fire gave y/n her first burn as she took out her phone and started recording. 

There was another muffled sound and she finally placed exactly what it was as the second hooded figure slumped against the first. It was a gun–a gun with a silencer. When she realized, she made her next mistake. 

She gasped.

And every head–four of them, all men–turned to look at her.

Next Chapter

taglist:

@ktficworld @grunge-n-roses5 @anon-cat-posts @projectdreamwalker @slovakshadow

[fluffs-n-stuffs]

OOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUH,,,,,OOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUAAAAHHGGGGGGWWGGGHGG,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, 😭😭😭😭😭

Calling onto every dad!Lance believer at this very moment--I need y'all to take a moment of your lives to read this work because it has utterly Destroyed me in the best way possible. my god

"worthy of all the love in the world" | dad!lance & preciousmetalshipping

Eventually, he settled with, "Promise you won't laugh?"

"I promise," Lance swiftly said. Then, he quickly added, "You don't have to tell me because you feel bad, tough. It's okay to—"

"I think I'm in love with Ethan," Silver blurted out, cutting through Lance's speech like the piercing blow of a Dragon Claw, and all the possible scenarios he had wracked in his mind that ranged from his teenage kid being caught in a fight with fellow trainers on Pasio to him discovering a new problem with himself were torn into pieces.

Or: Silver has yet to return to their hotel room after the search of the shiny Suicune was done, and when he finally did, he trusted Lance enough to bare the trouble that has followed him tonight to his mentor— his realization that he loves Ethan.

A sequel to "today, i love you" that can be read as a standalone fanfic.

This work is a part of Champion Lance Week 2023 for Day 2, with the prompt "Mentor" (@lanceappreciationblog).