#how long is a boxing training camp

[moroseprose]

Red Emoji OC Asks ❤️‍🩹

❤️ (heart) - Who is the most important person to your character? To what lengths would they go to protect this person?

💔 (broken heart) - Who has your character hurt most? Physically or emotionally? How did it feel? Do they regret it?

🌹 (rose) - What does your oc find attractive in other people? Are these traits found in their friends and/or romantic partners? Are they found in themselves?

🎈 (balloon) - What does your character do at parties? Are they a wallflower or a party animal? Do they go with friends or alone?

🍷 (wine) - Does your oc drink? What kind of alcohol do they enjoy? What are their drinking habits? What kind of drunk are they?

❗️(exclamation point) - What was the scariest moment of your character’s life? Does it still affect them?

🥩 (steak) - Does your oc have any coping mechanisms? Healthy or unhealthy?

🥀 (wilted flower) - How does your character deal with stressful situations? Is their fear response fight, flight, freeze or fawn?

🍓 (strawberry) - Does your oc believe in anything? Are they superstitious? Religious? Atheistic? Has anything in their past made them this way?

💋 (kiss) - Is your oc a good kisser? Have they kissed anyone before? Do they even enjoy kissing? What was their first kiss like in comparison to their most recent?

🍒 (cherries) - Does your character have a best friend? How long have they known each other? What do they like most about each other? How did they meet?

🚨 (siren) - What’s your character’s relationship with the law? Have they ever been arrested? What for? What are their opinions on law enforcement?

💄 (lipstick) - What does your oc think of their face? Do they have a positive or negative opinion? Do they wear makeup? Do they have a skincare routine? What traits do they like most about their face?

🍎 (apple) - Does your oc go to school or take classes? Did they go to college? What was/is their favorite subject? Did/do they get good grades? Did/do they enjoy school?

🐞 (ladybug) - What does a perfect day look like for your oc? What do they do? Who do they see?

☎️ (telephone) - Does your character know anyone’s phone number by heart? Do they prefer calling or texting? Who’s their favorite person to call/text? Do they have any typing quirks?

🥊 (boxing glove) - Has your character ever been in a fight? Did they win? Do they fight often? Are they professionally trained or self taught? Do they enjoy fighting or only do so when necessary?

🧣(scarf) - What comforts your oc? Is it an item? An action? A person? Whatever it is, how any why does it comfort them?

👠 (heels) - How does your oc dress? Are they stylish or casual? Do they keep up with trends or do their own thing? Do they prefer designer clothes or going to the thrift store? Do they have a signature item of clothing?

🍄 (mushroom) - Does your character like being in nature or do they prefer the indoors? Do they have any outdoor hobbies like camping or fishing? If they prefer the indoors, why?

🩸 (blood) - Is your oc squeamish? Are they disturbed by the sight of blood? Have they ever been in a situation where they had to overcome being squeamish?

✂️ (scissors) - Has your character ever cut their own hair? What about someone else’s? How did it turn out?

🎸 (electric guitar) - What’s your character’s music taste like? Do they have one or two artists they play on repeat or do they have a varied and eclectic collection of music? Do they like mainstream artists or prefer underground musicians? What genres do they enjoy?

🎒 (backpack) - What items does your oc usually carry? Do they have a bag or just keep everything in their pockets? Do they carry a lot or a little?

🪓 (axe) - Does your oc have survival skills? Have they ever had to use them? What would they do in an apocalypse? Could they survive?

[magicfootballstuff]

Best Mate (georgia stanway x reader) 

Summary: Georgia is your entire world, the love of your life. But you’re probably never going to be more than just her best mate.

(aka 12k words of angst and pining)

———

You’ve known Georgia since you were eleven.

Thirteen years in which you’ve been the closest of friends, through ups and downs. Thirteen years of playing for the same football teams, of carpooling to training and movie nights after matches and sharing rooms on away trips. Thirteen years, basically, in which you could have fallen in love with each other.

There’s a strange kind of irony, a punishment from the fates, that the first time you start to think of Georgia as anything more than your best mate is about three weeks before she moves to Germany.

You blame the Euros, naturally. That’s where you start to catch feelings. A long pre-Euro preparation camp, followed by weeks of heightened emotions as the Lionesses progress further and further into the tournament. It’s been a bonding experience for you all and you’re far closer to all the girls than you were a couple of months ago, but there’s been a shift in your relationship with Georgia specifically that you can’t quite explain.

It’s after the game against Spain that you first notice it. After coming back from behind, Georgia is the one who scores the winner to send you through to the semi finals and it might be the best goal you’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing live. It’s not just the goal - you’ve seen Georgia score screamers from outside the box on countless other occasions in your thirteen years of friendship - but the significance too.

It’s after this game that you actually start to believe you can win the whole tournament, that nothing is going to stop you until you get your hands on the silverware. And that belief starts with Georgia’s goal.

“I fucking love you, G!” you tell her in the dressing room after the game, still riding the euphoric high of beating Spain in such dramatic fashion.

Georgia grins at you.

“I love you too.”

Her words make you feel warm inside but you put it down to being happy about the result.

It’s not until later, lying alone in your bed back at the team hotel, unable to sleep because you’re still so pumped up from one hundred and twenty minutes of difficult football, that you hear Georgia’s words over and over again in your head and realise what it means.

I love you too.

Shit. You’re falling in love with Georgia Stanway. Your best mate.

What a cliche.

But you’ve spent thirteen years of friendship not being in love with Georgia. It should be pretty easy to brush any hypothetical feelings aside. Right?

———

It’s not. 

Actually, it turns out that acknowledging you have feelings for Georgia only makes them grow more.

You sit next to her on the coach on the way back from Bramall Lane after beating Sweden in the semi final. Around you, the whole team is jubilant, but all you can think about is how you can smell Georgia’s shampoo and feel the warmth of her thigh pressing into yours.

Shit, you’ve got it bad.

“We’re going to Wembley,” Georgia says. “Can you believe it?”

“Stuff of dreams, right?” you grin at her.

“And I get to do it with my best mate.”

The words ‘best mate’, while true, are like a knife to your heart and you’re reminded that you’ll only ever be Georgia’s best mate.

You try to shake yourself out of it. You’ve been Georgia’s friend for over a decade, you can keep being her friend, no problems at all. Because surely it’s better to be her friend than to risk messing things up and being nothing at all?

Except that she moves to Munich in two weeks. What if she loves it there, what if she prefers her new teammates to the old ones, what if she has such a good time there that she completely forgets about her old life in Manchester?

And you hate yourself for even thinking that. Georgia deserves to be happy. You know how excited she is to move abroad, how much she’s looking forward to the challenge of playing for a new team in a new league after spending so long at Manchester City. As her friend, you want the best for her, you want her to thrive in the new environment and be happy with her Bayern teammates as she settles into life in Munich.

You just hope that she doesn’t forget about you in the process.

“You’re quiet,” Georgia says, drawing you out of your own thoughts. “Wanna talk about it?”

You shrug, then give a half truth.

“Just trying to soak this moment in,” you tell her. “This feels special. No matter what happens in the final, I don’t want to forget the feeling of being part of this team.”

“I’m never gonna forget this,” Georgia says, sinking into your side and when she lets her head fall against your shoulder, you allow yourself just the briefest moment to imagine that she’s talking about this exact moment on the bus with you, not the summer of incredible football. “Would be pretty cool to win the damn thing though, right? One more trophy together before I leave.”

You never want this summer to end. Because as soon as it ends, Georgia leaves and you lose your best mate. You lose the person you’re in love with.

You have a feeling that this moment is going to be one that you come back to over and over again when you’re missing her, and you try even harder to commit every detail to memory.

———

Inevitably, the tournament does come to an end, but in the blur of playing an intense final at Wembley, winning said final, and the celebrations that continue long into the night, you almost forget that this is one of your last nights together with Georgia before she leaves for Germany.

Eventually, you and Georgia find your way back to each other, as you always seem to do. You have no idea what time it is, no idea how many drinks you’ve had, but it’s the early hours of the morning and most friends and family have either left or gone to bed, leaving just the players to continue their celebrations. You can still hear distant music and the occasional shout from downstairs, but you end up on the carpeted floor of a deserted hallway, side by side with Georgia. You’re sitting so close that the thighs of your outstretched legs are touching, and Georgia leans her head on your shoulder. You're holding hands too, though you don’t know who initiates that. Maybe it just happened because it felt right.

“I’m so proud of you, G,” you tell her, tracing your thumb across the back of her hand. “For everything - for today, for everything you did at City, for choosing to take a leap in your career.”

Georgia has hardly spoken about her impending transfer since it was announced, not while she’s been so focused on the tournament, and other than a couple of jokes this evening hoping that her new teammates will still welcome her after beating so many of them today, it’s been easy to pretend that she’s not about to move to another country. But now that the tournament is over, you have to face up to the reality sooner or later that your best friend is about to spread her wings and embark on a new journey that doesn’t involve you.

“Stop it, you’re gonna make me cry. And we’re supposed to be happy right now. We’re supposed to be celebrating.”

“I’m gonna miss you though. Bayern are lucky to have you.”

Your hand is still in Georgia’s, fingers linked together, though you don’t remember how it happened, whether it was you who took her hand or her who took yours. But her skin is so soft, especially on the back of her hand where you trace mindless patterns with your thumb.

“You’re still gonna be my favourite though, you know that right?” Georgia promises you.

“I am?” you ask, turning your head to look at her.

“Yeah, you’re my day one. Even when we live in different countries. I’m still gonna be talking to you every day.”

“I’m gonna be thinking about you every day,” you confess. “Every second, even.”

It’s only after the words slip from your lips that you realise you might have said too much, that you’re getting dangerously close to telling Georgia about the feelings that you promised yourself that you were going to keep secret.

“Yeah?” Georgia asks, her voice barely more audible than a whisper.

And just like the hand-holding, you have no idea who initiates what comes next, you’re just aware that your lips are on Georgia’s, or maybe hers are on yours, but who the fuck cares who leant in first when it feels this damn good.

Her lips are as soft as her hands, softer maybe, and she tastes like a combination of the free beer you’ve been drinking all night and something else, maybe optimism, if such a thing has a taste. But you’re very quickly unable to process much at all, senses overwhelmed, because Georgia is kissing you. Georgia, who you’ve been friends with since you were awkward teenagers with spotty faces and bruised knees, whose kisses are like a drug that you’re surely going to get addicted to because how could you not want to do this forever?

Just when you’re considering the logistics of pulling Georgia into your lap to continue this further, she pulls away from you, giggling as she wipes at her lips with captivating fingers.

“Shit, I’ve had way too much to drink,” Georgia says. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

She leans her head back against the wall behind you both, her eyes closed, and you try to keep yourself together, though your heart feels like a fragile sheet of glass that could shatter under even the tiniest amount of pressure.

“It’s fine,” you tell her, even though your lips still burn from her kiss. Even though you’re probably never going to be the same again. “We’re both drunk.”

———

The next morning, Georgia is wearing the most ridiculous pair of sunglasses you’ve ever seen, so huge that they mask half her entire face, but maybe that’s the intention because when she sits down next to you on the coach that’s supposed to take you to Trafalgar Square, she lets out a groan and says, “I don’t think I’ve ever been this hungover in my life.”

“I think I’m still drunk,” you admit. Your head isn’t pounding, it’s just swimming, the alcohol not yet worn off out of your system. It’ll hit you at some point today, you’re sure of that, and it’ll be torture. 

“Did I kiss you last night?” Georgia asks, pushing the sunglasses up onto the top of her head and frowning quizzically at you.

The way she asks, it’s almost like she doesn’t quite remember, and that stings a little. It’s pretty much the only thing you’ve thought about in the five drunken hours since it happened.

“Oh,” you say, trying to sound just as casual about it as Georgia does. “Yeah. I’d forgotten about that until you mentioned it.”

The lie is easy because there’s no way that you’re going to admit how affected you are by something as simple as the memory of her lips on yours.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Georgia grimaces. “Emotional day, and all that. We’re still cool, aren’t we?”

“Course we are,” you answer, and it’s mostly the truth - Georgia could commit a serious crime and you’d still think she was the best person on earth.

She’s got no reason to know the depth of your feelings for her, no reason to understand that kissing you might have done more damage than if you’d never got the chance to feel Georgia’s lips against yours at all.

———

You decide to confide in Keira.

“I think I’m in love with Georgia,” you confess, during pre-season, still ignoring the rumours that Keira might be moving abroad soon too.

“Our Georgia?” she asks for clarification, as if the idea is so ridiculous that she can’t quite believe what you’re telling her. “Georgia Stanway?”

You nod, and Keira presses on with her next question.

“Have you told her?” she asks.

“Why would I do that?” you scoff.

“Why wouldn’t you? What have you got to lose?”

“Only thirteen years of friendship,” you point out.

“Obviously it’s your decision, but worst case scenario she doesn’t feel the same and things carry on as normal.”

“Worst case scenario I lose one of the longest friendships I’ve got,” you interject to correct Keira.

“G’s not like that though,” Keira dismisses your worries with a wave of her hand. “She wouldn’t just cast you aside because of something like this. Anyway, she’s in a different country now. By the time you next see each other she’ll have forgotten all about it and things will be back to normal.”

“I’ll think about it.”

———

You do think about it. In fact, it’s pretty much all you think about.

One international break passes, then another, without you saying anything to Georgia about how you feel. You’re practically glued to her side for the whole of both camps, or maybe she’s glued to yours, because you somehow seem to end up alongside her even when you’re making an effort to not seem like you’re obsessed with her.

That plan clearly isn’t working, because on the penultimate night of the second international break, Keira brings it up when the two of you are alone.

“You’re not being subtle,” she tells you.

“Huh?”

“About G,” she explains. “If you think it’s not obvious you have feelings for her, you’re wrong.”

“Yeah but I’ve told you,” you point out, in a half-hearted attempt to justify the way you’ve probably been staring at Georgia with huge puppy dog eyes for the last week. “You know what you’re looking for.”

“Have you told Leah?” Keira asks, arching an eyebrow. “Because she asked me yesterday if you and Georgia were closer than usual so she’s noticed something too.”

“What did you say?” you demand, your eyes widening in panic.

“Don’t worry, I told her you used to be inseparable at City and that you probably just missed seeing each other every day. I think she bought it.”

You relax, or at least you try to, because if Keira says it’s obvious and even Leah has noticed your heart-eyes, then it can’t be long before Georgia herself realises, and then she’ll surely want to distance herself from you.

“Just talk to her,” Keira pleads with you. “You’re one of my best mates too and I hate seeing you like this. Even if nothing happens between you and Georgia, at least you’ll get closure by talking to her.”

You know that Keira is right. You’ve known Georgia for so long that you’d like to hope she won’t make things weird if you tell her how you feel and she doesn’t feel the same. You need an answer, so you can get over your feelings if nothing is ever going to happen.

And you fully intend to talk to her on the last night of camp. But you have a game tomorrow so you decide not to say anything for the risk of somehow upsetting the equilibrium of the team, and then before you know it Georgia is on a plane back to Munich while you return to Manchester and still nothing has been said.

Another time.

In the meantime, your heart continues to ache for something you’ll probably never get to have.

———

You’ll tell her when she comes home for Christmas, that’s what you decide. No England camp, no training or matches to use as an excuse for not telling her how you feel. Just two old friends catching up on what’s been going on in their lives - and so what if one of the most important thing that’s going on in yours is the depth of the feelings you currently have for your best friend?

You’re nervous for two full days before you see Georgia, your heart pounding each time you think of the enormity of the conversation you need to have with her. Telling her how you feel could change everything for better or for worse and even right up to the moment when you’re on your way to meet her, you’re still not sure if you have the courage to actually tell her.

You meet Georgia for lunch at Jill’s coffee shop, because Georgia’s only in Manchester for a few days before she jets off to Barcelona to see Keira and she wants to see as many people as she can while she’s back, but once you’ve both shared a bit of playful banter with Jill when she brings you your food and drinks, the two of you are left alone in a quiet corner of the shop.

“I’ve been dying to tell you something,” Georgia says, almost as soon as Jill leaves you alone. “I was gonna text you but I really wanted to tell you in person.”

She loves you too. That’s the first conclusion that your brain jumps to, because you can’t think of anything else she might have to tell you that’s important enough to be said face-to-face rather than over the phone.

She loves you too. She loves you t-

“I’m seeing someone,” Georgia announces.

And just like that, your heart shatters into a million tiny pieces.

She doesn’t love you.

“You are?” you ask, trying not to let the pain show on your face - this is supposed to be your best friend telling you that she’s found somebody, after all, and if you weren’t hopelessly in love with Georgia yourself, you’d surely be happy about this development in her life.

“Yeah, a guy back in Germany. His name’s Nico - he’s one of Syd’s mates so I met him through her. It’s still really new, like he’s not my boyfriend or anything, but we’ve been on a couple of dates and I think it’s going pretty well.”

“Cool,” you say, and then immediately kick yourself, because what kind of heartless idiot says cool when their best friend announces they’re dating someone, which is why you add, “I’m so happy for you.”

There’s a degree of truth to your words. Though on a selfish level you want Georgia to reciprocate your feelings and be happy with you, that’s not very likely to happen when you’re too much of a coward to tell her how you feel and obviously the most important thing is that Georgia is happy with whoever she chooses. You just hope that if it can’t be with you, that this Nico guy at least treats her well and gives her the happiness she deserves.

“Anyway, what’s going on with you?” Georgia asks, taking a sip of her hot chocolate. “Any big life updates?”

If there was ever a moment to tell Georgia that you’re in love with her, it would be now, when she’s inviting you to open up about what’s been going on in your life. But Georgia is clearly excited about this guy that she’s dating, or else she wouldn’t have waited until she saw you in person before making it the first thing she brought up, and what kind of friend would you be if you tried to ruin that for your own selfish reasons?

“Nothing much,” you answer with a shrug. “Nothing as exciting as your news. Anyway, tell me about Munich. Are the German lessons still kicking your arse?”

———

Keira calls you a few days later, when you know that Georgia is in Barcelona too, probably sharing the same news about her dating life with Keira that she told you the other day.

“You’ve seen G, then?” she asks, once you’ve caught up on your own lives.

“Yeah, we had lunch together a few days ago.”

“Did she tell you…?”

“About her new boyfriend?” you interject, completing Keira’s question. “Yeah.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Keira asks.

You can practically hear the pity in her voice and it cuts you almost as much as Georgia’s news about her dating life.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you try to dismiss it quickly, before you end up getting upset, or angry, or both. “She’s happy, that’s all that matters. I missed my chance.”

“Did you ever tell her?”

Keira doesn’t need to elaborate on exactly what she’s asking about and for that you’re grateful.

“No,” you answer. “But it’s too late now anyway.”

“I don’t think it is,” Keira counters. “It doesn’t sound very serious yet with this German guy.”

“Keira, if there was any chance she felt the same she’d have told me.”

“You mean like you’ve told her how you feel?” Keira asks.

Though you can’t actually see Keira’s face, you can picture it, one eyebrow arched at you and mouth twitching at the corners as she calls you out.

“It’s different,” you try to argue. “She wouldn’t be dating someone else if she had feelings for me.”

“Well if you aren’t ever going to tell her, maybe you should think about dating someone else. You know, a couple of the Barca girls are single. If you don’t mind the distance, I could put in a good word for you.”

There’s only one person you’d be willing to put in the effort required for a successful long distance relationship, and it’s Georgia. Besides, while Keira’s right that you’ll have to think about dating someone else eventually, it doesn’t feel fair to mess with somebody else’s feelings before you’ve at least tried to put your feelings for Georgia behind you.

“I’m good, thanks Ke,” you promise Keira.

“Well if you change your mind…”

“I’ll let you know as soon as I do.”

———

You don’t change your mind. Not about being willing for Keira to set you up with one of her club teammates, at least. You do, however, reconsider your decision not to tell Georgia about how you feel.

What can the harm be? If anything, the German boyfriend is a safety net because you have less optimism that Georgia feels the same, fully prepared for her to let you down. 

You phone Georgia when she’s back in Germany in January, entering the conversation with your heart already wrapped in bubble-wrap, in theory protected from being broken.

“Hey G, are you busy?”

“I’m never too busy to talk to you,” Georgia replies.

Your heart soars, giving you the courage to say, “Cool, well there’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Go on, I’m listening.”

“I was gonna say something when you were back in England but then you … well, you had your news and I didn’t want to ruin that.”

You pause and take a deep breath, glad that you’re doing this over the phone so that Georgia can’t see the sheer physical anguish you’re going through to psych yourself up to tell her this.

“I love you.”

There’s a moment of silence on the other end of the phone, then Georgia speaks.

“Aw, you big softie,” she teases you. “Love you too.”

You close your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose. Part of you wants to leave it there, the idea of having to correct Georgia’s misunderstanding somehow even worse than having to admit you love her in the first place, but you can hear Keira’s voice in your head telling you to grow a pair and tell Georgia how you really feel.

“No, I … I mean that I love you,” you clarify. “Not just as a friend. Like, I’m properly in love with you.”

“Oh,” Georgia says. There’s silence on the other end of the line as she processes what you’ve told her, before she eventually repeats, “Oh. Shit, okay.”

It’s not exactly the reaction you were hoping for and though you’d prepared yourself for probable rejection, you couldn’t actually have prepared for the punch in the gut that is the pure surprise from Georgia, as if the idea of there being anything more than friendship between the two of you is so far-removed that she’s never once even considered the possibility.

“Forget I said anything,” you say quickly, eager to put this torturous ordeal behind you. “I’m just being stupid. It’s nothing I can’t get over.”

“No, wait!” Georgia blurts out. “It’s not stupid. It’s just … unexpected, I guess. You’ve surprised me, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble.

“No, don’t apologise! I’m glad you told me. The thing is, I do love you too. Just as a friend.”

And despite all the preparation you did beforehand to try to protect yourself from the pain of inevitable rejection, hearing Georgia confirm aloud what you already knew still causes your heart to splinter into tiny pieces. 

“Okay,” you say, trying to swallow the lump that’s formed in your throat. “That’s what I needed to hear. Now I can move on. And I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me-”

“Are you kidding?” Georgia interrupts you. “This doesn’t change anything. It takes courage to tell someone how you feel. I’m not gonna punish you for that. Anyway, you’ll always be super important to me. So unless you need a bit of space…?”

“No,” you’re quick to say. “I don’t need space.”

“Then you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon,” Georgia reassures you.

A single tear spills from your eye and you wipe it away quickly, even though Georgia can’t see you, because you’re worried that if you let it trickle the whole way down your cheek, it’ll be followed by a flood. The only thing that could make this more embarrassing that it already is would be if you burst into tears and Georgia heard you crying.

“Thanks, G.”

———

“I hate to admit it, but you were right,” you tell Keira, as you make your way out to the training pitch at St George’s Park on the first morning of the February international break, a few weeks on from telling Georgia how you feel - how you felt. “I just needed closure.”

“From Georgia?” Keira asks for clarification.

“Yeah. It turns out that finding out she doesn’t feel the same was a really quick way to shut down whatever stupid feelings I thought I had for her.”

“I think you’re being hard on yourself. It’s not stupid to catch feelings, especially for someone like G.”

“It was just emotion from the Euros,” you try to explain. “Then the distance. I was missing her. I got a bit carried away, that’s all. Anyway, she’s got her German guy now.”

“Not anymore,” Keira tells you. “That fizzled out a while ago.”

“It did?” you ask, your head jerking up in surprise when you hear the news. “She never told me that.”

“Yeah, well…” Keira trails off with a grimace, and you don’t need her to finish her sentence to understand what she’s saying.

“Right.”

You probably sacrificed your right to hear about Georgia’s personal life when you attempted to insert yourself into it by confessing your feelings for her. And if you’re completely honest, though you still talk to Georgia pretty often, there has been a slight shift in what you talk about, more superficial football chat and fewer deep conversations about all the other stuff going on in your lives.

Not for the first time since telling Georgia how you felt, you wonder if admitting your feelings was the wrong decision after all.

You hear footsteps behind you, the telltale sound of studs against concrete, and you turn to see Georgia, who inserts herself between you and Keira and drapes an arm around each of your shoulders.

“Hey guys, whatcha talking about?”

“The weather,” Keira is quick to save you the turmoil of having to come up with a lie yourself. “Thought it was cold in Barcelona at this time of year but I’d forgotten how much worse it is in England.”

“This?” Georgia scoffs, gesturing at the bleak grey sky above. “It’s tanning weather. I don’t know what you’re complaining about.”

“You’re mad,” Keira says, shaking her head as she eyes up Georgia’s bare arms.

“Not mad,” Georgia counters with a grin. “Just happy to be back in England with my best mates.”

You don’t know how it makes you feel, hearing Georgia refer to you as a “best mate” again. She’s clearly making an effort to make sure you know that nothing has changed, that your sudden confession of feelings a few weeks ago hasn’t made Georgia think any differently of you than she thinks of Keira. But it still stings a little, all those hours spent wondering what if and picturing a hypothetical parallel universe in which Georgia returns your affection coming to nothing.

In the back of your mind, it registers that a public friendzoning shouldn’t hurt if you were as over your feelings for Georgia as you claimed to Keira that you were, but you push that thought down for now.

———

You don’t actually speak to Georgia alone until later, hanging out in one of the communal recreation areas during the free time you get between a gym session and dinner.

“I meant what I said earlier,” Georgia says. “It’s good to be back together again. And we haven’t seen each other in person since…”

Georgia trails off, leaving you to fill in the rest yourself.

Deciding that the best way to get past the slight awkwardness is just to acknowledge exactly what happened and laugh it off, you say, “Since I told you I liked you?”

Georgia’s eyes widen, slightly surprised that you’re so blasé about the situation, but she passes it off quickly and says, “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry if I put you in a weird position,” you apologise. “I just needed to say something, even if you didn’t feel the same way, for peace of mind, you know? Just feelings that had been brewing under the surface since the emotion of the Euros…”

“Since the Euros?” Georgia interjects, surprised once again.

“Yeah, but I don’t feel that way anymore,” you continue, fully aware of the fact that your cheeks are starting to heat up with embarrassment. “I got closure and I moved on. I hope things can go back to normal between us.”

Georgia hesitates for a second, like she’s still trying to process everything, before her face splits open into a huge grin.

“Yeah, of course. Nothing’s changed at all.”

You try to remember what normal friends who haven’t admitted feelings for each other talk about, and your mind immediately wanders to the guy she told you about when she was last home. The guy that, if Keira is to be believed, is no longer in the picture.

“How’s it going with that guy you’re dating?” you ask, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from Georgia too.

“Nico? I’m not seeing him anymore. Like he was nice, but he was … I don’t know, he was just nice. There was no real spark, or nothing.”

“Oh, I���m sorry to hear that.”

It’s partially true. If you can’t have Georgia yourself, you want her to be happy with somebody, though you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t done some social media stalking after she told you about him and he didn’t seem like anybody particularly remarkable. In a way, it’s a relief to hear that confirmed by Georgia herself.

“Nah, it’s fine,” Georgia says, dismissing your words with a casual wave of her hand. “It wasn’t serious anyway. And I wanted to tell you it was over but I didn’t know how. I didn’t want you to think I was messing with your feelings, or anything.”

“I get it,” you assure Georgia. “But you don’t have to worry about that. There aren’t any feelings to mess with anymore. That’s all behind me.”

Georgia narrows her eyes just slightly, like she’s not quite sure she believes you, but it passes so quickly that you might have imagined it.

“Cool,” Georgia says. “Anyway, did you see that worldie I scored in training earlier?”

And so the conversation moves on, back to normal with your best friend.

———

It does go back to how it was before, for which you’re relieved. Your biggest worry about admitting your feelings for Georgia was that it would ruin your friendship if she didn’t reciprocate, so you’re glad that you’re still just as close as you were before Christmas.

The problem is that now you’re back to talking to Georgia all the time, whether that’s messaging each other, ganging up together on Leah in the group chat, or FaceTiming to have a general catch up about life, you’re starting to realise that maybe you’re not over your feelings for her after all.

Can you really be blamed? Georgia is like a human ray of sunshine, lighting up your world with her silly jokes and beautiful smile, even from another country.

Surely everybody who meets Georgia falls a little bit in love with her?

Still, Georgia has made it pretty clear that your relationship is never going to move beyond friends, and you’re content to have her in your life in whatever way she’ll allow you, even if you’re still harbouring feelings for her.

You don’t tell Keira either. She asks you about Georgia a couple of times, just casual questions in passing which you respond to with reassurances that you’re getting along like old friends again, that her rejection was enough to extinguish your feelings. If there’s one thing that’s more humiliating than admitting to your best friend that you’re in love with her only to be turned down, it’s having to deal with the constant pity of another friend concerned about a possible broken heart. So you tell Keira that everything is fine and she seems to believe you.

It is fine. You are fine.

(And if you tell yourself that enough times, one day it’ll eventually become true.)

———

You have a plan.

And it’s not a plan that you’re making because you’re in love with Georgia. It’s a plan for your best mate who lives abroad and you miss dearly.

So when Georgia’s Bayern Munich team draws Arsenal in the quarter final of the Champions League, you go straight to the airport from training on the day of the match and catch the next flight to Munich to watch her play.

As you sit next to Georgia’s mum in the stadium, who makes a comment about how nice it is that her daughter’s best friend has flown all the way from Manchester just to support her in one game, you try telling yourself that you’re not just here for Georgia, that you know Leah and Lotte and several of the other Arsenal girls and you’ve come to watch them too, but as the game progresses you’re only really watching one person. 

You’ve always known that Georgia is good - you’ve played alongside her for more than a decade at England age groups and then at City, watched her put in tackles that others wouldn’t dare to try and score goals from outside the box that would make anybody drool. But there’s a big difference between seeing Georgia play in training or when you’re on the same team as her, and actually watching her play. It’s an exciting match, a close match, with good performances from players on both sides, but you watch Georgia far more than any other players, your eyes tracking her even when she’s off the ball.

Bayern come away with the win, though only just, and you’re already trying to figure out whether you can make it down to London and back in a single night next week for the second leg that promises to be as exciting as the first. For the quality of football, you tell yourself, not just for another chance to see the best friend that you miss terribly.

You watch as Georgia greets the fans, smiling for pictures and signing shirts in the process, slowly making her way along the edge of the pitch until she reaches the area where you are. Her eyes search the crowd, no doubt looking for her mum, but she does a double take when she spots you and you carefully manoeuvre your way forward until you’re close enough to talk to her.

“What are you doing here?” Georgia asks, disbelief in her eyes.

“I’m here to see Leah,” you joke.

“Oh, I’ll just go and fetch her for you then, shall I?” Georgia grins at you. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“Have you never heard of a surprise?”

Georgia just rolls her eyes.

“How long are you here for?” she asks.

“Just tonight,” you answer. “I managed to convince Gareth to let me have tomorrow off training so I fly back first thing. I wish I could stay longer, but we’ve got a league game at the weekend.”

“Are you coming next week?” Georgia asks. “To the second leg? At the Emirates?”

“Do you want me to come?”

Georgia nods enthusiastically and says, “Yeah, course I do.” She pauses, then adds, “Only if you want to, though. I know it’s a long way to travel.”

“I’ll be there,” you promise. A wicked smile spreads across your face as you add, “To see Leah again, of course.”

Georgia rolls her eyes and says, “Dickhead.”

“Be nice, Georgia,” Georgia’s mum interjects. “She’s come all this way to see you.”

“Relax, mum, it’s just banter,” Georgia protests. “She knows I love her really.”

Love. That word again. Because Georgia does love you, of that you’re certain, but not in the way you want her to.

But as you look down at your best friend over the barrier that separates the players from the fans, her brown eyes alight and a smile on her face as she stares back at you, you realise that you’ll take Georgia’s love, however much of it there is and in whatever form it comes in, just to see her smile like this.

———

The weather is terrible. Unrelenting rain turns the four hour drive from Manchester to London into a five and a half hour drive with limited visibility on the motorways. The prospect of spending an evening in this torrential downpour for at least the two hours of the match, possibly longer if the game goes to extra time and penalties, is brightened only with the knowledge that you get to see your best friend again just a week after you last saw her.

Unfortunately the game doesn’t go Bayern’s way. Despite bringing in a one goal lead from the first leg, that hard work is quickly undone by two Arsenal goals in quick succession in the first half. You’re largely neutral to the outcome of this game, except that you aren’t because you want to see Georgia succeed, and she seems to double her efforts when Bayern go behind, putting even more into every challenge, every pass, determined not to lose.

You’re kidding yourself if you think you’re a neutral fan in this game because when the final whistle goes and the Arsenal fans start celebrating a hard-fought victory, your heart aches for Georgia and what could’ve been. But Georgia is a ray of sunshine, even in defeat, and still makes time for all the fans.

When you finally get to see her, inside the stadium after she’s showered and changed out of her wet kit, you’re actually more disappointed than she is about the outcome of the game.

“That’s football, isn’t it?” Georgia says with a shrug, after you’ve exchanged a long hug and offered her your commiserations. “Thanks for coming down though. It’s good to see you again. I missed you.”

Her words make your heart flutter and you play it off the only way you know how - with humour.

“It’s only been a week, G,” you remind her, rolling your eyes.

“A week is a long time when we used to see each other every day,” she points out. 

“And whose fault is that?” you tease her.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Georgia rolls her eyes at you. “What are you doing now?”

It’s already late and the drive back to Manchester will be a long one so as much as you want to hang around and cherish every moment with Georgia, you know you need to get on the road soon.

“Gotta drive back home soon,” you tell her.

“To Manchester?” Georgia asks her eyes wide. “Nah, no way I’m letting you drive back through the night, especially not in this weather.”

“But…”

“No buts,” Georgia interrupts you. “I’ll text you the address of our hotel and you can stay with me. Drive back in the morning.”

You’re supposed to have training in the morning and you don’t want to imagine the trouble you’ll get yourself into if you don’t show up. But this is Georgia, and is a bit of a telling off from the coaches not worth spending a bit of extra time with her? Besides, can you not just set an early alarm and drive back home straight to the training ground in the morning? You’re not needed until ten anyway…

“Fine,” you nod, trying to pretend that the decision was harder than it actually was, pretending that you wouldn’t jump off a cliff for Georgia with very little hesitation if she asked you nicely enough. 

———

Georgia meets you in the lobby of her hotel just over thirty minutes later, already dressed in pyjamas with a battered pair of sliders on her feet. She grins when she sees you and reaches straight for your hand, not even bothering with a proper greeting.

“Come on,” Georgia says, dragging you into the lift and pressing the button for the fifth floor. “Before anyone sees you.”

The lift doors rattle shut and it starts to rise. You turn to Georgia and ask, “Is this gonna get you in trouble?”

Georgia grins at you, then replies, “Only if we get caught.”

Your heart is pounding in your chest, so loud that Georgia must be able to hear it echoing around the confined elevator too, and you’re not sure if it’s racing from the thrill of trying not to get caught or because Georgia’s hand is still in yours, her warm palm pressed against yours and your fingers tangled together. 

Does Georgia even realise that she’s still holding your hand, or the effect that it’s having on you? Because it’s pretty much all you can think about as the lift ascends, your heart hammering away until the rush of blood in your ears is so strong that you might faint.

The lift can’t reach Georgia’s floor soon enough, but eventually it does arrive and the doors slide open with a soft ping, and then Georgia is dragging you along the carpeted hallway until she reaches the door to her room.

“Shhh,” Georgia hisses as she unlocks the door, ushering you inside as she finally lets go of your hand. “In you go.”

You enter Georgia’s hotel room and she closes the door behind the two of you. It’s a pretty standard room, a large double bed in the middle, a tv screen hanging from the wall beside a door that leads to the adjoining bathroom. Georgia’s suitcase is open on the floor, a few clothes strewn across the floor and the chair in the corner.

“Do you want a shower to warm up?” Georgia asks you. “I can lend you some spare clothes to sleep in.”

“Yeah, sounds nice,” you nod, shivering as you’re reminded that you’re still wearing your rain-soaked clothes from earlier.

Georgia kneels beside her suitcase and rummages around in it until she pulls out a spare pair of shorts with the Bayern logo on them and an oversized t-shirt, which she passes to you as she stands up again.

“Spare towel is on the rail in the bathroom,” she explains. “Pass us your wet clothes when you’ve taken them off and I’ll hang them up to dry.”

You smile your thanks and wander into the bathroom, turning on the hot water of the shower before stripping out of your wet clothes. Wrapping a towel around yourself for warmth and modesty, you open the door just wide enough to pass your clothes through to Georgia, who promises to hang them up by the radiator to dry overnight, before shutting yourself in the bathroom and stepping into the shower to warm up.

You spend longer than you probably need to in the shower but the warm water cascading over your head is more than welcome and it gives you time to think. To think about the fact that you’re here in Georgia’s hotel room, about to spend the night in her bed, wearing her spare clothes, when you should really be halfway up the motorway back to Manchester right now.

For some reason, your conscience warning you against this appears in the form of Keira’s voice.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Keira’s voice asks you in your head. “You’re still trying to get over her. Is this really going to help?”

“It’s fine,” you whisper aloud into the empty bathroom, your words masked by the sound of water hitting the tiles. “We’re just friends and that’s fine.”

It’s far from the first sleepover you’ve had with Georgia. You’ve known each other for well over a decade and spent your teenage years sleeping over at each other’s houses gossiping and giggling well into the night until a parent came in to hush you and urge you to get some sleep. You’ve shared rooms on countless camps before, during tournaments with England or on away trips with Manchester City. And since growing up and getting your own places, there have been movie nights that ended late where it was easier for one of you to stay over instead of driving back late.

In short, you’ve shared a bed with Georgia many times before.

You haven’t shared a bed since you realised you had feelings for her last summer, and definitely not since you admitted those feelings a couple of months ago.

But if Georgia’s comfortable with it, then you shouldn’t have a problem either.

You finally get out of the shower, when you’re completely warmed through and your fingertips are starting to shrivel from being under the water for so long. You dry off and change into the clothes borrowed from Georgia, then spend a bit of time drying your hair with a towel and brushing your teeth using the spare hotel-issued brush still in its plastic wrapper, before you eventually unlock the bathroom door and return to the bedroom.

Georgia is sitting upright in bed looking down at the screen of her phone, bathed in the yellow glow of the bedside lamp. She glances up when she hears the bathroom door open and smiles, whether at the sight of you in her clothes or some other reason, you’re not quite sure. 

“You still like to sleep furthest from the door, right?” she asks, shuffling across to leave plenty of room for you in the bed beside her.

“You gonna protect me from intruders?” you tease her, as you clamber into the empty side of the bed.

Georgia is a few inches shorter than you, but you’ve seen the way she tackles on a football pitch and you have no doubt that she’d do better in a fight than you.

“Course I will,” Georgia grins back at you. “Ready for bed? Can I turn the light off?”

You nod and settle yourself down, adjusting the pillow and pulling the covers up over your shoulders as you roll onto your side. Georgia flicks off the light, then there’s some shuffling on her side of the bed, before you both fall still.

With your eyes not yet adjusted to the darkness, you can’t actually see Georgia more than just a shadow on her side of the bed, but you’re pretty sure she’s lying on her side facing you. 

And that’s when it truly hits you. You’re sharing a bed with Georgia, close enough to touch her, close enough to be able to hear her breathing, but knowing that you can’t do anything about the ache in your chest.

You have no idea how you’re going to calm your mind or your heart enough to be able to fall asleep tonight.

You shiver - whether that’s because you’re still cold or for some other reason like Georgia’s proximity - but it’s enough that she notices.

“Shit, are you still cold?” Georgia whispers into the darkness. 

“No, it’s fine,” you say, but your body betrays you again with another shiver.

“Come here,” Georgia says, though it’s her, not you, that closes the gap between you, shuffling her body closer until she can wrap her arms around you and pull your body against hers. Your feet intertwine at the bottom of the bed, hers warmer than yours, though she makes no complaint. “Nothing warms you up like a little cuddle.”

It’s not just a little cuddle though. This is a cuddle with your best friend who you’re more than a little bit in love with, who is kind enough to let you stay here despite the fact she could get in trouble, who has lent you her clothes and let you use her shower and now offers her arms to keep you warm. Your best friend who can surely now feel as well as hear the pounding of your heart as you nestle your body against hers beneath the covers.

Your eyes have started adjusting to the darkness and now you can see how close her face is to yours, your foreheads separated by barely an inch, and she’s staring right back at you, her warm breath hitting your face with each exhale.

“G…”

You breathe her name into the space between your lips, ready to tell her that you can’t do this, ready to admit that you still have feelings for her and that you need to leave, drive back to Manchester even though it’s the middle of the night and you’ve got no dry clothes, because otherwise you might do something that you regret.

But you don’t get the chance to say anything, because suddenly Georgia’s warm lips are on yours, soft and unmoving and so incredibly tentative, but also so right.

She lingers for a few seconds, then pulls back, her chest rising and falling more deeply than before with each breath, as she asks, “Sorry, I … was that okay?”

“You shouldn’t kiss me if you don’t mean it,” you say, just about ready to combust into tears, such is the intensity of the feelings overwhelming your entire body for the other girl. 

You don’t know what to expect from Georgia, but it’s definitely not what she says next.

“And what if I do mean it?”

Her voice is quiet, her words cautious. You’re so used to Georgia being her usual loud and effervescent self that you barely recognise the tone of her voice, but she sounds almost vulnerable.

“I’m so far gone on you, G,” you admit. “I thought I could get over you but I can’t. I need you to know that you could shatter my heart and stamp on all the tiny pieces and I’d still want to be yours. And if there’s even the smallest part of you that doesn’t mean it, then we should forget that ever happened and…”

You don’t get to finish your sentence because Georgia’s mouth is on yours again, hotter and more insistent this time. You gasp as she kisses you and her mouth opens too, her hand coming up to cup your jaw as her tongue swipes past your lips. The sound you let out is involuntary and you would be embarrassed, if not for the fact that you can’t think of anything except Georgia - her lips on yours, her body wrapped around you, her hands burning your skin.

Eventually, breathing becomes a necessity and Georgia must agree because she pulls back, though only far enough to lean her forehead against yours as she says, “I think I’m in love with you.”

“You think?” you ask, needing Georgia to be absolutely certain before you let yourself hope.

“I’m pretty sure,” Georgia corrects herself. “I’m still figuring it out but I’ve been thinking about it ever since you told me you liked me, and then when you showed up in Munich last week to surprise me … nobody’s ever done something like that for me before. And I can’t imagine anyone else making me feel the way that you do. You’re so much more to me than just a best mate. You’re … you’re everything to me.”

“Do you really mean it?”

Georgia nods.

“Whatever I have to do to convince you I mean it…”

“Just hold me,” you tell her, pushing your body further into hers and nuzzling your face into the crook of her neck.

“Just hold you?” Georgia asks, her hand squeezing your hip, and though you can’t see her face, you can picture the smirk on her face anyway.

You lift your head and use the element of surprise to roll Georgia onto her back, trapping her against the mattress with one of your legs framed on each side of her hips.

“You’ve got other suggestions, have you?” you ask her, raising your eyebrows at her as you sweep your damp hair out of your face.

Her hands settle on your hip tentatively, like she knows what she wants but isn’t quite sure yet whether it’s okay.

“I’ve got some ideas,” Georgia admits, fighting off a mischievous smile.

“Yeah?”

You lean down, still hardly able to believe that this is Georgia telling you that she loves you, that she wants you in the same way that you want her, as you press your lips to hers again. You hope that you’ll never get tired of kissing her because each time feels more magical than the last, as you slowly get used to the way that her lips move, to the things that make her breath catch in her throat as she kisses you back, and you know that there’s a whole other side of your oldest friend that’s now open for you to get to know and explore.

It would be so easy to get carried away, especially when Georgia’s hands, already dangerously low on your hips, start to slide lower, but there will be plenty of time for that, you hope. You’ve waited long enough, thirteen long years, for this to happen. You can wait a little longer.

You reluctantly detach your lips from Georgia’s and settle back against her side, one of your legs slung over her hips and her hands coming up to wrap around your back as you lie half on top of her.

“Another time,” you tell her, as you let your eyes flicker shut, knowing that sleep will be easy to come by with Georgia’s arms around you.

“That’d better be a promise,” Georgia murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You don’t say anything, just laugh softly, and snuggle into her until sleep takes you both.

———

You wake in a different position, spooning Georgia from behind, but no less content than you were when you fell asleep. Georgia is still fast asleep, body rising and falling with each deep breath, and you manage to carefully extract your arms from around her so that you can reach for your phone on the bedside table to check the time.

You let out a soft groan when you see the time because you’re supposed to be at training in Manchester in less than two hours, and as perfect as last night was, finally getting an admission from Georgia that she feels the same, you now have to deal with the consequences of staying overnight in London instead of driving back home last night after the match.

You slip out of bed as quietly as you can, intending to go into the bathroom to call Gareth and give him some kind of made up excuse about why you’re not going to be at training. Something that doesn’t involve having to admit that you prioritised a girl over your career, even though Georgia is so much more than just a girl and last night will hopefully be the first of many that you get to experience falling asleep in her embrace, but you’re not so sure that your manager will understand or approve.

But before you can make it as far as the bathroom, you hear a sleepy voice from behind you.

“You’re not sneaking out on me, are you?”

You turn to the most adorable sight, a sleepy Georgia rubbing at her bleary eyes as she pushes herself up onto one elbow, her hair sticking up at an awkward angle on the side she slept on.

“No, of course not,” you promise her. You hold up your phone and explain, “I just need to make a call. I’ve got training today and obviously I’m not going to make it.”

“Come back to bed,” Georgia pleads with you.

“One sec,” you say, calling Gareth and lifting your phone to your ear as you sit down on the edge of the bed. 

When it rings through to voicemail, you’re a little relieved that you don’t actually have to talk to him in person, and you wait for the tone before leaving your message.

“Hi Gareth,” you say, deliberately rasping your voice as you try to sound as sick as you possibly can. “I’m really sorry but I don’t think I’m going to make it into training today. I’m not feeling well and I’ve already been sick once this morning. Sorry again. I’ll catch up with you soon when I’m feeling better. Bye.”

You hang up and toss your phone aside, ignoring the amused look on Georgia’s face as you get back under the covers.

“Pulling a sickie, eh?” she teases you.

“Shut up,” you grumble, though you still cuddle back into Georgia’s side, tangling your legs together beneath the covers once more.

From this close, you’re taken aback by just how pretty she is. Not that it’s the first time you’ve thought that, but seeing her like this, still slightly heavy-eyed from just waking up, looking back at you with adoration mirrored in her dark eyes, and being able to take it all in without having to worry about whether you get caught staring at her, is brand new. And with whatever limited time you have left before you inevitably have to get up and leave the blissful sanctuary of Georgia’s bed, you just want to kiss her, to feel her body against yours so that you have something tangible to remember this by when she has to go back to Munich.

“Can I kiss you?” you ask.

“You don’t have to ask.”

“I do,” you insist. “Because I can’t believe that last night actually happened. I’m still kinda waiting for you to tell me it’s just a prank.”

Georgia presses forward and her lips meet yours. It’s slower than the kisses you exchanged last night before bed, but you sigh happily into the kiss and bring your hand up to cup Georgia’s cheek. She lets out a little noise that you capture with your own mouth as your fingertips brush against a sensitive spot just below her ear and you make a mental note to revisit the spot later, perhaps with your lips and teeth instead, and vow to find every other spot that makes her whimper and melt into putty.

You make out for a while, a lazy exploration of each other’s mouths without any real destination. Having spent at least the last eight months dreaming of getting to spend quiet mornings in bed with Georgia, kissing until it’s hard to tell where you end and she begins, you’d be quite happy to keep doing this for the rest of eternity, but she eventually pulls back.

“I wish I didn’t have to go back to Germany,” Georgia says, echoing your own thoughts.

“But you love it there,” you remind her, trying to be the voice of reason, even though you wish you could both just exist in the cocoon of this hotel room for the rest of time.

“I love it here too.”

“Here being…?”

“With you,” Georgia clarifies, and your face cracks open into a big grin.

“Didn’t know you were so soppy, G,” you tease her. 

“Neither did I. I guess you bring it out in me.”

“Charmer,” you say, snuggling into her shoulder and sliding your hand under the hem of her t-shirt so that your fingertips can brush across the skin of her hip bone.

“We should really get up,” Georgia says, though she makes no move to do so.

“Five more minutes?” you ask, nuzzling your face into Georgia’s neck and pressing your lips to her pulse point.

“Go on then. Five more minutes.”

———

It’s another twenty minutes before you eventually drag yourselves out of bed, which means you have to rush to get ready and any chance you might have had to slip out of the hotel before any of Georgia’s teammates see you is ruined when you hear a knock on the door.

You’ve redressed in last night’s clothes, now mostly dry, and grab the last of your things as Georgia opens the door, revealing three of her teammates standing out in the hallway.

“Breakfast?” they ask her, before three pairs of eyes look past Georgia and fall on you, slipping your feet into your trainers.

“I should go,” you say, checking your coat pocket for your car keys and wandering over to where Georgia stands at the door once you’re satisfied you’ve got everything. “Text me when your flight lands.”

“I’ll text you before then,” Georgia says, her hand coming up to rest on your waist as she tilts her head up to press a sweet kiss to your lips. It’s far more chaste than the ones you shared last night and this morning but it’s still enough to draw some sniggers out of her teammates.

“Bye,” you whisper against her lips as you pull away.

“Love you,” she says.

“Love you too.”

As you leave the room and walk down the hall, you can hear Georgia’s teammates starting to tease her loudly behind you, and you enter the lift fighting off a smile that has everything to do with the development of your relationship in the last ten hours.

———

Luckily you don’t have to wait long to see Georgia again because just a few days after the Champions League match, she returns to England for another Lionesses camp as you prepare for the Finalissima against Brazil.

Naturally, you smuggle Georgia into your room almost as soon as she arrives on camp and spend the night trying really hard to keep your hands to yourself, because you’ve waited so long for Georgia to be yours that you’re determined to wait a little longer so that your first time together isn’t at St George’s Park while your teammates are trying to sleep in the rooms on either side of yours. But you settle for kissing her heatedly well into the night and waking up with her head resting on your chest and one of her arms draped around your waist.

You’re in such a good mood when you go down to breakfast on the first morning of camp, that you completely forget that nobody else knows about the new development in your relationship with Georgia. Specifically, you forget that Keira, who knows pretty much every other up and down of the last few months, doesn’t yet know that Georgia reciprocates your feelings.

You sit at your usual table for breakfast, Keira opposite you and Georgia setting her tray down next to yours.

“I’m just gonna get some juice,” Georgia says. “Do you want some?”

“No thanks,” you reply, taking a sip from your mug of coffee.

You watch as Georgia wanders over to the jugs of juice, your gaze following the swish of her ponytail before dropping to appreciate her legs and the shape of her butt in her training shorts. It’s only when Keira kicks you under the table, hard enough to surely leave a bruise on your shin, that you snap out of your trance.

“What?” 

“You’re still in love with her, aren’t you?” Keira hisses across the table.

You pause for a second, glancing between Keira and Georgia, who is on her way back to the table with a glass of orange juice, and then you laugh. You can’t help the way that it spills from your throat because Keira is looking at you like being in love with Georgia is the worst thing in the world, and while it might have been painful a week ago, you don’t know how to begin to explain that in the space of just a few days it’s become the best thing that’s ever happened to you.

“What did I miss?” Georgia asks, as she returns to the table and sits down beside you. “What’s so funny?”

“Keira thinks I’m in love with you,” you explain.

Keira’s eyes widen, and now that you’ve got over the initial surprise of her question, you start to wonder if you can have a bit of fun before actually telling her the truth.

Georgia is clearly thinking the same, because she nudges your thigh with hers and says, “Aw, you love me? That’s lame.”

Keira looks even more panicked - understandable given that she’d probably expect Georgia to be a little more considerate towards your feelings if she didn’t reciprocate.

“Can we talk after breakfast?” Keira asks. “Because I’m worried about you. I thought you’d…” Keira’s eyes flit across to Georgia, then back to you, giving you a deliberate look as she says, “… you know.”

“You thought she’d moved on?” Georgia fills in the gap. She puts down her fork, then reaches for your hand, lacing your fingers together and resting them on the table where Keira, and anybody else, can see. “Fat chance of that. She’s obsessed with me.”

Keira looks more confused than ever, and you realise that you probably owe her an explanation.

“G’s my …” You pause, realising that while you’ve both admitted you love each other and there seems to be an understanding that you’re together now, you haven’t actually had a conversation to put an official label on what you are. You turn to Georgia and ask, “Are you my girlfriend?”

“If that’s your way of asking me, it’s not very romantic, is it?” Georgia teases you.

Rolling your eyes, you turn back to Keira and say, “She’s my girlfriend. We’re dating.”

To emphasise your point, you bring your joined hands to your lips and press a kiss to the back of Georgia’s fingers.

Keira’s eyes look like they might pop out of her head at any second.

Leah sits down in the empty seat beside Keira, taking one look at your joined hands, before she says, without a hint of surprise in her voice, “You two have finally got your shit together, then? About bloody time.”

“How are you not more surprised by this?” Keira asks Leah, apparently exasperated by the new development. “I’ve spent months listening to this one,” she jabs an accusatory finger in your direction, “whine on and on about how much she loves Georgia and how Georgia is never going to love her back to the point where I’ve genuinely had sleepless nights worrying about it, only for them to hard launch their apparent relationship by rocking up to breakfast and just holding hands like it’s completely normal!”

Keira is usually so cool and composed, even when under stress, that it’s weird to see her have an outburst like this, but she’s the only one who knows the extent of how much your feelings for Georgia not being reciprocated until now has really affected you over the last few months, and for that she deserves an explanation. 

Georgia leans closer to you and whispers, “Babe, I think we broke Keira.”

You’ll have time to process the way that Georgia’s use of the pet name babe makes your heart do an actual somersault in your chest, eager to revisit the subject later, but you probably owe Keira an explanation before she actually combusts.

“I love her,” you tell Keira and Leah. “And it turns out G loves me too, it just took her a while to figure it out. But we’re serious about giving this a go. It’s brand new, which is scary and exciting, but…” You turn to Georgia now, almost forgetting that the others are here too as you get caught in the adoration in Georgia’s eyes. “But she’s my girlfriend, my best mate, the only person I’ve ever felt like this about. So yeah, I’ve been a bit of a mess over the last few months trying to get my head around what I felt for her. But she’s worth it. You’re worth it, Georgia. And I’m lucky I get to call you mine.”

Your words come from the heart and it feels for just a second like the two of you are caught in your own little bubble of blossoming romance.

That is, until Leah bursts it by sarcastically saying, “Well thanks guys, I really didn’t want to keep my breakfast down this morning.”

It doesn’t matter if Leah ruins the moment. You’ve waited for Georgia for far too long to care. And as the news of your relationship filters through camp until the rest of the team knows, met with some surprise, some cries of “I knew it!”, and plenty of teasing, the only thing that matters is Georgia and the fact that you finally get to call yourself hers.

[jgracie]

LEO AND Y/N’S GARAGE: AUTO REPAIR AND MECHANICAL MONSTERS

masterlist | rules

in which life after camp half-blood is everything you and leo could’ve wished for

pairing husband!leo valdez x wife!athena!reader

warnings none :)

on the radio . . . this is the life (amy macdonald), keep driving (harry styles)

an i read the bit w leo and calypsos repair shop in house of hades and knew what i had to do 👩🏼‍💻

Eventually, the scent of your lineage - half mortal, half Goddess - began to wear off. What once was the bane of your existence, singling you out as ‘different’ and putting you in danger from the moment you popped out of your mother’s brain, was now a faint odour, a mere memory of the life you once led and the people you knew.

Leo didn’t wear off, though. He could never. Your relationship had been unexpected by everyone who knew the two of you. Pristine, perfect Y/N, daughter of Athena, the girl who not only stayed within the lines but drew them herself, and Leo Valdez, a messy, wild son of Hephaestus. From the moment you laid eyes on him, you knew you wouldn’t stand him. He was persistent and annoying, never giving you a moment’s peace and tearing down the walls you so carefully built around yourself. 

In the end, he grew on you, and you realised you had a lot more in common than you thought. For example, your love of machinery. For as long as you could remember, you gravitated towards wires and nuts and bolts, only stopping when you got to camp as your life became filled with training and learning about the side of the family you didn’t even know you had. You used to longingly stare at the Hephaestus kids, itching to pick up a wrench and join them as they made all sorts of weaponry. Now, you own your very own garage: Leo and Y/N’s Garage: Auto-repair and Mechanical Monsters.

It started off as a silly joke between you and Leo. You were newly graduated and after spending so much time taking care of the Godly side of your family, you forgot what life as a mortal was like. Sure, you always wanted to be a mechanic, but what now? You didn’t want to work for someone else. You spent your whole life working for other people and watching as everyone you loved had shrouds burnt for them (if they were lucky), so you thought it was only fair if you did something for yourself. 

“We could always open our own garage,” Leo had said when you voiced your thoughts that day, “‘Leo and Y/N’s Garage: Auto-repair and Mechanical Monsters’ has a nice ring to it, right?” 

You laughed, saying something along the lines of “get real, Valdez,” before deciding to help him as he cooked dinner. Little did you know, Leo was being real. The next morning, he started looking for places he could rent for your garage. A few months after that, he began furnishing it and months after that, he started advertising. Once he was sure that everything was perfect, he decided to show you his little project, a velvet box with a certain piece of very valuable metal weighing down his coat pocket.

Today marks the six year anniversary of the opening of your garage (as well as the six year anniversary of your engagement), and to say business was booming would be an understatement. It started off as a place for mortals only, they’d drop off their cars and the nicer ones would stay for a little to make small talk, marvelling at your stories of how you sailed from the US to Europe together on a ship Leo built himself (you censored a lot of your experiences, of course), but after you expanded the garage, making it almost twice as big as it was before, you thought, ‘Why not let this be a place for demigods, too?’ 

Hidden from the eyes of mortals, the second half of your garage comes to life. There, you sell weaponry, armour and anything a demigod could possibly need, as well as providing a safe haven for those who needed recuperation after a long and tiring quest. You loved meeting them all, giving them advice and comfort as proof that things do get better and not all demigods die at the age of 16. 

“Leo, have you seen Espe?” You yelled, wiping the grime from your hands as you realised your daughter had gone missing. Your son was too young to be at the garage and usually you’d stay with him, but your hands were itching for a hammer and your dear sister and brother-in-law offered to babysit, so why not let them? Your daughter was another case. She seemed to have inherited her parents’ inability to sit still and love for making things, insisting on spending all her time at work with the two of you as soon as she could walk. 

On cue, Leo waltzed into the mortal side of the garage, your first born daughter, named Esperanza after his mother, in one arm and a toolbox in the other. “She decided to amuse herself with daddy’s magic toolbelt,” he said, sitting down on a nearby stool and placing her on his lap, “summoned about 50,000 gummy bears. I’m surprised she managed to override the cooldown on it, I’ve been trying to figure that out for years”

“Gummy bear?” She asked, looking up at Leo then at you, a grin - one she clearly got from her father - gracing her lips as she suddenly seemed interested in your conversation, making the two of you break into fits of laughter, which in turn made her laugh. Did she know what she was laughing about? No, but it didn’t matter anyway.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, you were being watched. Sydney and Aaron, the two demigods you were hosting as the former’s leg healed, were going to tell you that they were good to leave tomorrow when they stopped, noticing you were having a moment.

“It’s hard to remember they’re demigods too,” Aaron began, “they seem so… normal. No chaos, no monsters, nothing,” he stared longingly at you, then down at the girl next to him. Could they have that too?

As if she read his mind, Sydney took his hand in hers and smiled, “we’ll make it, trust me. They went through a lot before this, remember? They were part of the last great prophecy. If they can do it, so can we.”

If you had told your past self that you’d marry the one boy who managed to get under your skin, start a family with him and open not just a garage, but a place where demigods could feel a sliver of normalcy, you would’ve laughed in your own face.

[phant0mth1ef]

oh yes, oh yes, oh yes, they both, oh yes-.

-

all for one, and one for all.

those three words ruled your life from the moment you were brought into the earth by your father. no matter how you phrased them, they never left your mind.

you’d grown up in a slum in kamino ward, your father keeping you right beside him, like you were some trophy that he’d always had on display. it irked you to the point of no return, but then again, who could say no or defy your father?

you’d grown up quirkless until about the age of 10, where he’d brought you to some shady lab and held you down as liquid flowed through your veins, the syringe that had been used was long discarded by then.

since then, you’d been thrown to the side by your father. but then again, was he really yours? it was so degrading to come second to someone who wasn’t even blood. you’d lived at the hospital with him. the doctor.

you knew your role when your father visited you after being gone for years, a news article was dropped in front of you as you looked down at it. all might would begin to teach at ua at the start of their new term.

he’d looked at you, you’d looked at him.

everything in your body had told you to decline, told you to just defy him for once in your life.

but, then again, who says no to all for one?

-

you’d walk home with aoyama daily, chatting with each other as you both nearly sweat every piece of your skin off. he was watching, even when you’d thought he wasn’t.

in class you wouldn’t talk to anyone, and at the start it was easy. todoroki was doing the same exact thing, refusing to make friends and acting coldly towards everyone.

the usj incident wasn’t meant to be as destructive as it was. no. the plan was originally for you to meet with your father and discuss, but once you’d begun acting coldly towards him. he’d quickly shown you what he was capable of.

eventually todoroki opened up to the class, but you, oh god you were such a hard shell to break.

you were so suspicious, so conniving. and when you’d found out you were being followed by a certain blonde haired boy, that had to have been the worst of it.

“time manipulation: time stop.” everything froze into place as you’d walked behind bakugou, forcing his body into mid air so that he’d collide with the ground the moment he fell.

“time manipulation: reset.” with those words his face hit the hard concrete, and he’d picked himself up with an angry smile on his face, a cut on his cheek. (definition of a crash out, i fear).

that night at ground beta, you’d both fought all night. the boy being unable to land a hit on you due to your borrowed quirk.

you could never call it yours. it was stolen from someone much more worthy than you.

aizawa had caught you both, reprimanding you and sentencing you both to detention after school for weeks. and oddly enough, bakugou didn’t avoid you after the incident.

“hey, idiot.” he’d whispered to you during detention while throwing a wad of paper at your head. you’d turned towards him, eyebags under your eyes.

“spar with me after school.” he was nearly incoherent as you made a face, trying to understand what he just said.

“no.” you’d nearly spat, it wasn’t meant to come out in such a rude way.

“tch. c’mon. don’t be a loser.” that caught your interest as you side eyed him, quirking up an eyebrow.

from then on, you’d both begun to hang around each other more. whether it be small things such as walking home together, although you’d never allow him to walk you home for obvious reasons.

sparring, taking walks together after school, he even went so far as to invite you to the pool before you’d all left to training camp.

and eventually once you’d been forced to move into the dorms after your father was captured, you’d thought that maybe, just maybe, your life could be normal as you looked at bakugou who was helping you carry boxes into your room.

“how the hell do you have so much stuff?! are you some typa hoarder?” you threw a pillow at him.

you’d lived your life as if you were a normal teenage girl, at least you did.

you’d just finished up watching a movie with bakugou, the boy shut the door to your dorm. almost on cue, a smokey purple substance appeared in front of you, your body racked with chills as you stared at it.

“time manipulation, small space time stop.” everything in your room was exactly the way it was when bakugou left, even the shape of you asleep in bed as you’d passed through kurogiri’s warp gate.

you’d been thrown into a laboratory, shigaraki stared down at you. a cold glare in his eyes. he was just like him.

-

he’d officially combined with shigaraki, overtaking the young adult’s body as he stared you down at coffin in the sky. you’d been frozen in fear once you’d seen him.

“what are you standing there for?! stop time and take him out, damn it!” bakugou yelled at you as shigaraki, well, all for one, smiled back at him.

“she won’t be doing that. after all, she can’t.” he’d smiled, a grimacing look in his eyes as you’d been forced to gravitate towards him. probably a quirk he’d stolen.

“the hell are you doing?! come back!” his voice was so commanding.

“i can’t.” tears welled up in your eyes as you were pulled towards what was left of your father, your body trembling with each step you were forced to take.

“after all, how could she say no to dear old dad?” the gasps that were let out would never leave your memory, your head hung low as you’d trudged towards him.

footsteps were heard behind you, rapidly pounding against the dirt of the biome as you’d looked back.

bakugou was chasing you, trying to reach you and shield you from him despite the hatred that was in his eyes.

you’d turned back, your father was running at full speed now. or was it shigaraki? you couldn’t tell these days as he outstretched his arm.

because if he couldn’t have your power, nobody would.

god i hate this so bad i feel like its so rushed 💔💔😢😢

@bakuettes

[autumnmobile12]

My Hero Academia AU: Living Ghost

A little bit different than my other comics; I've never done a time lapse before.

In the Ambush Simulation notes, I mentioned that Dabi has a canon divergence in this AU where he returned home after the three years he was missing/presumed dead, but nothing in the household changed and he was still an unhinged mess.  This is the AU comic behind ‘unhinged mess’ and the partial reasoning behind his antagonistic behavior in The Summer Camp Ambush Simulation.

…

All right, so canonically Dabi is a walking, half-dead, Lovecraftian nightmare of mental and physical health issues who's keeping himself going through sheer willpower/hatred.  Ujiko says that after waking up from the three year coma, he should not have survived longer than a month as a result of the injuries he sustained from the fire.  So even in an AU where he was reunited with his family after the fact, that’s still the reality of his situation.

Enter Endeavor: In this scenario, at that point in his character arc, I think he would have retreated back into his usual pattern of refusing to face the issue. The Todoroki family got Touya back, but they also learned that he wouldn't be with them long. If a missing/presumed dead child turns up after three years, they're immediately going to a hospital to establish mental and physical condition, so the health issues resulting from the fire would have been discovered almost immediately.

From the point of view of Endeavor, Touya's return was cause for celebration and was initially viewed as a second chance/an opportunity to repair some of the damage he'd already done to his family...but then the severity of Touya's prognosis becomes apparent and they're told he has weeks to live. In Ambush Simulation, Endeavor takes the coward’s way out and leaves the problem for everyone else to deal with so he doesn't have to face Touya.  He told himself it was a way of not getting attached and so on, and no matter how much he tries to deny it, the avoidance is his guilty conscious.

The same goes for Rei. She refused to see Touya after he came back just so she wouldn't have to say goodbye to him a second time.

But Touya doesn't die.

Despite what the doctors predicted, he survives '...albeit with complications, various emergencies, experimental treatments to delay the inevitable, no clear answer on how the hell he was still breathing, and no promises that he would ever live a full life...' And now, just like in canon, he has 7-8 years of simmering resentment with the trauma of a near-death experience, the realization of having lost three years of his life due to the coma, the fallout of terminal health, and the crushing disappointment of what should have been a heartfelt reunion turned into a second abandonment.

In this AU as a vigilante, Touya has the Pandora’s Box of being an outrageous public menace and a potential family embarrassment because he figured out the only time his father pays any attention to him is when he’s ‘acting out’ and he decided he’d rather be the problem child than the invisible child.  And unfortunately, this mentality has also ruined his relationship with Natsuo.

In some respect, canon is a happier outcome for Touya because at least in canon, the poor bastard has a purpose instead of reduced to a living ghost.

…

The piano panels are him rehabilitating his hands.  Technically after a three year coma, he should not have been walking and talking as quickly as he did.  Not with that kind of atrophy.  So I’m balancing that inaccuracy out with the headcanon his fine motor skills were likely completely ruined.

Plus, if your life is a train wreck, have at least one positive hobby.

...Yomaha...

[whereforarthur]

Masterlist~

All of my work compiled in one place. Please like and reblog if you enjoy them, feedback is greatly appreciated. Requests are open!

(Updated 9/17/2024) 

(X) = coming soon

ItalianBach~

Fluff: 

You’re The Only Man I Want to Kiss

- Isaac and his girlfriend y/n react to Women Rank Men by Kissing

Smut:

Ménage à trois (Threesome w/ ArthurTv)

- Who knew fan fictions could cause so much pleasure?

Ménage à trois (Part 2)

- Having had a threesome the night before leads to an interesting and revealing podcast episode, leading their friends to question what truly happened?

ArthurTV~

Angst:

Unrequited Love Hurts Like A Bitch

- Being in love with your best friend sucks, especially when he doesn't feel the same way

Unrequited Love Hurts Like A Bitch (Part 2)

- Soulmates are two best friends who fell in love

Fluff: 

Being Stuck in an Elevator Never Looked so Good?

- Getting trapped in an elevator with your favorite YouTuber, was not what you had planned for today

Love At First Podcast

- Falling in love with you was easy

Smut:

"Women weaken legs"

- After your boyfriend Arthur was in boxing training camp and was forced to go 6-8 weeks without distractions and sex, he goes feral for his girlfriend when he gets out

Ménage à trois (Threesome w/ ItalianBach)

- Who knew fan fictions could cause so much pleasure?

Ménage à trois (Part 2)

- Having had a threesome the night before leads to an interesting and revealing podcast episode, leading their friends to question what truly happened?

The Two Arthur’s (with Arthur Hill)

- Virgin!Reader goes to her friends for comfort not expecting them to comfort her in such a way

George Clarkey~

Fluff: 

Musicians want to be the loud voice for so many quiet hearts - Reader is a famous singer and George follows her on tour and fans speculate they’re dating.

Wedding Day Bliss~ - George Clarke marries the love of his life

Dating Headcanons for George Clarke

I'll wear your name on my heart til I die

- The turmoils and happiness that comes with giving birth

Smut:

Tummy Obsessed Much? - George's favorite body part on his girlfriend is her stomach

Wedding Night Bliss~

- A fluffy smut of the events that transpired after your and George's wedding night.

It’s Good to Be Home

- could you do a clarkey version of homecoming?

A Night In

- A perfect night in with your boyfriend is very pleasurable

It's Been Way Too Long

- “I think I'd miss you even if we never met.”

Love and Hate Are Blurred Lines

- “How would it be.. if all my hate disappeared like my youth, if after all this time his very hatred of me turned out to be something gentle, some kind of love.”

Caught Red Handed

- Who knew taking a risk could lead to this much pleasure?

ChrisMD~

Angst:

We'll Never Last

- It hurts to be something, it's worse to be nothing with you

Fluff: 

Fate is in The Stars (PlusSize!Reader)

- A chance encounter at a concert leads to more than you expected

Drunk and Touchy

- Chris fluff where he's a bit tipsy and can't keep his hands off his girlfriend

I Didn't Know Punk Girls Blushed

- Golden retriever boy falls for punk grumpy girl

What If We Were More Than Friends?

- Falling in love as best friends was unexpected

Smut:

Arthur Hill~

Angst:

Brother's Flatmate

- George’s sister and Arthur can’t stand each other, right?!?

Fluff: 

Am I a Burden to You?

- Arthur’s been working a lot and y/n misses him, she brings this up and he gets angry and calls her ‘clingy’ before realising he messed up and makes it up to her (angst —> soft)

Piano Nights

- Y/N and Arthur meet at a musician's party, where she spots him and confidently pursues him. They sleep together, and they end up dating, leaving Arthur in awe and a massive simp.

Dating Headcanons for Arthur Hill

Smut:

“Sex is an Emotion in Motion”

- Arthur takes care of you after a rough night in the sheets

It’s painful, loving someone from afar.

- Y/N is on holiday with all of the boys and there’s tension between Arthur hill and her, and everyone can see it and they’re just waiting for something to happen. (Soft Smut)

Homecoming

- When Arthur returns from vacation, he misses his girlfriend greatly causing things to get freaky

The Two Arthur’s (with ArthurTv)

- Virgin!Reader goes to her friends for comfort not expecting them to comfort her in such a way

All~

Dating Headcanons

George Clarke

Arthur Hill

ArthurTV

ChrisMD (X)

ItalianBach (X)

Featuring more than 2 of the boys~

Poker Night Never Felt So Right

ArthurTv x Reader x George Clarke x Chrismd

A game of strip poker with your friends, goes a little further than anyone expected...

Said She Wanted Five Guys She Ain’t Talking about Burgers (X)

Reader x George, Arthur Hill, Chris, Isaac and ArthurTv

Y/n shares her sexual intentions with five YouTubers. She invites them to join her fantasy, setting no limits on their actions. The group eagerly agrees, indulging in a passionate sexual encounter as they explore Y/n's desires one by one.

A/n: Let me know if anyone would like to be added to a taglist for all imagines or certain people!

[unfair-water-plane]

So one thing that has always made me chuckle in ME2 is the fact that Kal’Reegar is a marine in a Quarian suit. And he fits in with Shepard easily, the same attitude and headspace and cadence (for mShep at least). And I’m sitting here at work and the thought just hit me.

What if that’s because he is a marine in a Quarian suit?

Hear me out. Kal is older than Tali, or at least gives off those vibes, and so he would have been on his pilgrimage a while ago. Like maybe right after first contact. And here are these brand new people who came out of nowhere and had apparently enough fire power and attitude to give the Turians a very brief pause. The whole galaxy wants to know more. And humanity has no idea who is out there, but surely they can’t all be like the creepy bird people?

Cue one very curious Quarian in Shanxi, just as curious an out humanity as humanity is about everything. Meeting with early alliance brass, giving them information common palace to any kid with an extranet feed but wholly new to humanity. He explains that the Quarian don’t have ground forces because they don’t have a ground, and is honest about the geth, and is like ‘so how did you make the Turian Hierarchy freak out?’

And somehow ends up observing basic training, and falls in love with it. To the point where he actively asks to go through marine boot camp in Hanshan, and is just earnest and endearing enough to be allowed. So he goes through it, puts in the work and the blood and sweat and tears and makes the kinds of friends that you sort of have on the Flotilla, but everyone also knows you are all going to separate ships eventually and getting attached is hard.

But the humans will pack bond with a robot vacuum without issue, and when they meet a Quarian who wants to learn and thinks it’s amazing that they stood up to the biggest military in the galaxy running on old fashioned rocketry and spite? The marines adopt him as one of their own. They are brothers, something most single child Quarians have no experience with, and Kal gives it back in spades. He talks like them, fights like them, jokes and learns and is like them.

And when it is over and they graduate, it’s hard to turn down the offer to stay. But humanity respects the loyalty to his people that takes him back to the fleet, and it almost brings him to tears when his graduating class passes a cap for his passage back to the fleet in more comfort than sitting on a box in a volus cargo ship.

It actually brings him to tears when his drill instructor informs him that while it might not be in great shape, Arcturus has authorized them to gift Kal’Reegar with a battered but space worthy corsair and an official greeting from the Systems Alliance to the Migrant Fleet.

The SSV Jarhead is perhaps the best gift anyone is his age range can give to a future captain, though his practical military experience is a gift to the whole fleet. It catapults him through the Quarian military, from for soldier to instructor to commander, and somewhere he hopes that his brothers and sisters are as proud of them as he is of every transmission that makes it back to him.

On Haestrom, that training keeps him alive long enough to watch his squad die, and that cuts like nothing else. But he can’t stop, because the principle is still depending on him, and until his suit gives out he has to fight to her.

But then the voice cuts through the chatter of his own mind, and he *knows it*. Knows the cadence and the phrasing, knows how a human mouth forms the phrases that he has spent years trying to teach. Commander Shepard might not be a marine, but they are a human combat specialist and the fraternity is there.

Maybe it’s just three more people who are going to die for this fools errand, but somehow Kal doesn’t think so. There are two bone deep beliefs that he will carry it’s him to either the home world or the afterlife, and it has always felt appropriate to him that they rhyme. That they sound similar, when he breathes them into the air.

Keelah Salai. Semper Fi.

[andreas-river]

I would like to request a Nikto x Reader :)

Nikto overheard a conversation you were having with the other operators on base about how beautiful the nearby flowers are blooming in spring. He has begun a daily ritual of hiking up the hill to find the prettiest and gathering them for you. Secretly leaving little bouquets in places you would find.

ʻʻLingering scentʼʼ

Pairing: Nikto x Fem!Reader

TW: none, mostly fluff.

-

He never meant to eavesdrop on you.

That’s what he repeated to himself every time, watching the space ahead of him but with his ears focused on the tone of your voice, hearing the smile that you had. He never felt it before, nor did he know that you could feel a smile in someone’s voice.

There were small details, the way you pointed at the flowers outside on the way to the base, his eyes travelling all the way around to see the camp at the side of the road.

And to be honest with himself, he never noticed them, until now.

He couldn’t ever be a gentleman, there was no way that he saw himself give a bouquet of flowers to someone. The thought almost made him feel sick from the bottom of his stomach.

That same night, Nikto walked out of the base, a flashlight in his left hand as his boots left imprints on the cold ground. The snow was long gone, the days were becoming longer and longer, feeling like a fish out of water as the temperatures became warmer.

When he dropped down and pointing the light at them, gloved fingers brushing at the stem as he picked it from the ground, he realized that he never observed a flower in his entire life. The petals looked so bright under the artificial light, the center a bright yellow, reminding him of the time he saw you wear a yellow shirt.

He never expected to see you with that color on you, attracting more than a few pair of eyes, yet you walked straight like you weren’t a complete walking headlight.

He collected others from the ground, without even counting them as he held them in his other hand, walking back while trying to figure out a plan to give them to you. That’s when the thought hit him like a train: he was planning to give you a bouquet of flowers.

—

The following day, he stayed more than usual at shooting wooden targets with his rifle, his fingers tingling as if pure electricity was flowing in his veins, trying to keep himself at bay. He still remembers how he found himself searching for anything that could’ve kept the flowers together, finding only a rubber band inside one of his drawers.

He didn’t know what was driving him to such actions, he just felt like it was the right thing to do after hearing what you said.

At one point, he was forced by his teammates to get out from the training area, almost pushing him all the way. He sat with them as they were eating their lunch, his box still closed—he would eat it only in the privacy of his own room.

Still distracted by the flow of his own thoughts, he didn’t acknowledge your presence until you walked by, surprised to see you alone. He listened as you asked for a plastic cup—a bit weird, bottles were most used, until he watched you pouring water inside it as you gently placed flowers inside. Those flowers.

Until you turned in his direction, finally going back to reality and seeing his teammates waving at you, inviting you to sit with them.

He didn’t realize he was staring at you until your eyes watched him back, yet your smile never faltered for a moment, sitting in front of him and placing the flowers on the table.

“And where did those come from?”

He watched you blush at the question, murmuring that you didn’t know, and telling how you found the little bouquet of flowers tied at the handle of your door that same morning.

He held back a groan as Rodion tried to understand who could have been the gentleman behind that gesture, your face becoming redder by the second as his teammate tried to think of any person.

You let out a nervous laugh, distractedly fixing the flowers inside the cup.

His heart skipped a beat when you shifted your gaze on him, even if it was only for a moment.

—

It happened again, and again, your room perfumed from all those flowers that somehow ended up in spots where you always went. Always held by a rubber band, always tucked in a corner—yet you knew exactly what the corner would be.

You were dying of curiosity since that morning you first found them, soon being aware that someone was doing that on purpose, but not leaving any trace behind.

But you knew better than that.

The way he stared at you—someone even said that he was a creep, but there was more than meets the eye. The more you watched him, the more you started to understand that his eyes gave out more about him, or the way his legs shifted when he was sitting, or how he crossed his arms in his chest or if he left them at his sides.

It was a difficult book to read, too many difficult words to understand and concepts hard to grasp at first glance.

But you wanted to know more, to know him more and the reason behind those flowers.

Slowly sticking your head out of your room and closing the door behind you, you stealthily walked out, going straight to your favorite spot in the little yard of the base. You could feel your heart beating loudly in your chest, almost afraid that someone could hear it, even if it was impossible.

At night everything was easier for you. It happened occasionally in the past that you would meet him, the insomnia having the best of you both, ending up talking—you would always do most of the talk, he would just sit and listen at everything, from the gossips that went around the base to personal matters that heaved on you, feeling almost childish to trust him so blindly.

Apart from seeing him in the field, you knew nothing about him, except all the thing other said about him. All the rumors that went around the base, the way everyone dared to talk behind his back but shutting their mouth the moment his shadow appeared closer to them. They were afraid of him, that was obvious.

But that didn’t stop you at all, reasons why you sat under that tree in the middle of the night, waiting for him to appear.

Little did you know that he was observing you from afar, trying to walk his way around but knowing well why you picked that spot—you already knew. And like in that moment, you already managed to put yourself in his way, always stopping him in his tracks at every inopportune—and opportune moment.

The dirt under his boots made enough noise to attract your attention, watching you turn around, your eyes light up the moment you saw him. No one ever watched him that way.

“You should sleep at this hour.”

Your smile widened after his words. “I can say the same about you.”

He didn’t answer your statement, the flowers in his pocket burning like fire, their perfume making his head spin. He noticed the way you breathed in, surely noticing the sweet scent lingering around him. Not saying a word, you just shifted, making space for him on the bench, patting the cold material with your hand and inviting him to sit.

After a moment, he obliges.

For some time, he just imitates what you do, watching the sky above, clouds and stars blending in one big painting, letting all thoughts slip away from his mind, somehow less clouded than ever.

You let the wind do the talk this time, your smile never faltering for a moment, not even when he finally gets up from the bench, the first lights of dawn filling the sky in bright stripes. He cannot help but feel the shadow of a smile forming behind his mask as your lips murmur a ‘thank you’, voice too low to understand—but you both surely didn’t need the voice to understand each other.

You follow him soon after, this time leaving the scent from the chamomile flowers lingering for a bit longer on that bench, their petals flying away with the wind of that new morning.

[alotofpockets]

Secret admirer | Jackie Groenen

Pairing: Jackie Groenen x Nedwnt!Reader

Prompts: "It was you the whole time?" & "Your handwriting is recognizable, you know that right?"

Masterlist | Woso masterlist | Words: 1.1k

Ever since the national team camp had started, you have been finding little notes everywhere. Most often you would find them in your bags, or in your locker but sometimes you would find a note with your name on it in a shared space like next the the coffee machine outside of the conference room. 

You loved whenever a new one would show up, always smiling at the lovely message that was written on it. Usually either a compliment or a beautiful quote. You kept every one of the notes that you had received from your secret admirer in a box, happily adding the newest editions each time. 

Today when you entered the dining hall all eyes were on you, “What’s going on?” You asked, getting a little shy from all the attention. “We’ve found another note from your secret admirer.” Daan says while wiggling her eyebrows, waiving the note with your name on it through the air. “Hey, give that to me.” You say while snatching it from her hand. “Does it say your name, huh?” Daniëlle just laughs at your possessiveness of the little note. 

You grab your food and sit down at one of the tables. Taking the little folded note from your pocket to read it. It was another one with a compliment which made you blush instantly, you looked pretty today! was written on the note you had to work hard on to hide from your curious teammates. “Do you know who they are from, yet?” Jackie asks. You shake your head, “No, the notes are always anonymous.” 

In reality you had known who the notes were from almost instantly. You just chose to let this play out, because quite frankly you felt very flattered and loved by how much effort your not so secret admirer was putting into making you smile. 

After breakfast you head out to the training field with the rest of the team. They continued their teasing when you’d taken the note with you instead of leaving it in your room. You couldn’t care less about their teasing though, you had fallen hard for the writer of the notes a long time ago, and were eager to get to the stage where she would let you in on her secret.

It wasn’t until a couple weeks into training camp when you and a few of the girls took a trip to the beach on your day off. It was the perfect weather for a walk on the beach and you were so glad that Jackie suggested it. Unbeknownst to you, her intention was to only ask you to go but when people got wind of it, they invited themselves along for a group hang.

When you all walked past a small restaurant, Daan suggested taking a little break. Most of the girls were down, just Jackie seemed to not be into the idea. “Actually, I think I want to continue walking for a bit longer. You guys go ahead though.” You excused yourself from the group and followed Jackie, noticing the slightly somber look on her face. “Hey Jacks, mind if I join? The weather is just so nice today.” Her smile quickly returned. “Yeah, I actually wanted to talk to you about something, so this is perfect.”

You continued walking as Jackie started talking. “So, since camp is nearing its end, I wanted to tell you something.” You smiled at her, encouraging her to continue, knowing full well what she was on about. “The notes you’ve been getting.” She started, nervously looking up at you. Jackie seemed to be too nervous to continue, so you decided to ask her, "It was you the whole time?" Her eyes widened, did you know or were you guessing? “Yes, it was me.” 

You smile wide at the confession, even though you already knew it was her, it was just so good to hear her say it. “Aw Jacks, that’s sweet. I had no idea!” She studies your face, noticing a slight sparkle in your eyes. “You already knew it was me, didn’t you?” You laugh, “Yes, yes I did.” Jackie hides her face behind her hands. “Oh god, I’m so embarrassed right now.” You shake your head and move your hands over hers, effectively taking them away from her face. “Don’t be embarrassed. I loved it.” You reassure her. “Why didn’t you stop me as soon as you realized it was me?” You left one of your hands on her cheek, gently stroking it with your thumb, while you held her hand in your other. “Because I never want you to stop leaving me little notes like that.” She searches your face again, looking for the meaning behind your words. A meaning she finds when you start slowly leaning in, waiting for any kind of response from the woman in front of you to make sure that this is what she wanted to. The moment Jackie starts leaning in too, you smile and pull her face closer to yours, connecting your lips in a soft kiss.

After you pull back from the kiss, you wrap your arm around her, hugging her tightly. “I just wanted to say that I look out for your notes every single day, they mame me very happy. Especially knowing they came from you, of course.” You place a quick peck to her cheek and the two of you continue walking down the beach hand in hand. It wasn’t until about five minutes later that Jackie stopped you in your tracks, “Wait, how did you know it was me?” 

You reach in your pocket to pull out the note from today, "Your handwriting is recognizable, you know that right?" Jackie starts laughing, “How did I not realize that?” You laugh with her, “I have no idea, but it’s very cute.” 

Since the wind was getting colder you decided to turn around and head back to the restaurant the rest of the girls went to. You walk up to their table together and each order a hot chocolate to warm up again. The hot chocolate came with a small napkin, which gave Jackie an idea. She reached in her purse and grabbed a pen. You smile when you realize she is writing you another note, this time right in front of you. You read her note with a big smile on your face. 

Life is an adventure, and I cannot wait to live this adventure with you by my side.

xx Jackie

Your first signed note and the start of a beautiful adventure. You pocket the note, the rest of the girls not having noticed anything yet, hoping to keep this between the two of you for a little longer. 

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[nofingjustaninchident]

omg Leah tysm for doing this event ily. Hear me out, Jason proposing to gf!reader, when she's not really having a good day, and feels down (maybe the reason could be that her friends left her out on plans or something but it could be anything, really). But Jason just ironically makes it her best day ever with his secret sweetly planned proposal ahhh 🥹🩷

ᯓ★ id marry you with paper rings

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

pairing jason grace x daughter of poseidon!reader

summary worst. day. ever. or maybe not.

warnings nah, just fluff

authors note this one was so cute to write omggg

now listening to paper rings by taylor swift

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

The day had been rough. Y/n was sitting on the couch, feeling the weight of the world pressing down on her. Her friends had, once again, gone out without her, leaving her feeling lonely and left out. Just to match, her whole week at work had been extremely bad, and now she felt like a good old piece of shit.  

The gloom settled over her like a heavy blanket, and no amount of distraction seemed to lift it. Her boyfriend, Jason, was also not home, as he had to spend most of his days at one of the camps – sometimes even both of them.  

To lift her mood a little bit, she heard the key turning on the front door, immediately bringing a smile to her lips. Jason walked into the room, smiling down at your slumped form on the couch. He was beaming with an enormous bouquet of her favorite flowers in hand.  

Unfortunately or not, he could read her like a book, and the sadness in her eyes was impossible to miss. His smile disappeared almost as fast as it came and he went straight to her, enveloping her in his embrace.  

Ever since the war ended, he’d been so afraid to lose another friend because he wasn’t strong or powerful enough to protect them, that he’d been training a whole lot harder, which made his hugs so so more comfortable. 

She shrugged, leaning into his embrace. “Just… feeling down. My friends went out without me again. I don’t know, it just sucks.” 

Jason’s heart ached seeing her like this. He hated knowing she was hurt, but he also knew he had the perfect way to turn her day around. He had been planning this for weeks, waiting for the right moment. Maybe today, despite its rough start, could end on the best note possible. 

“Hey, how about we go for a walk?” he suggested, his tone light. “Fresh air might help.” 

Y/n looked at him, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Okay, that sounds nice.” 

They both put on their jackets and headed out, Jason holding her hand firmly in his. Maybe she was a little paranoid, sure, but his hand was a little sweaty, and she could swear that he seemed a little nervous; he kept looking around as they walked, biting down on his bottom lip and often squeezing her hand. She decided to ignore 

They ended up on the beach. He put a blanket on the sand and they sat there, holding hands as they stared out at the beautiful sea. For a moment, they chatted about their days, a few jokes and stolen kisses were shared.  

Until Jason suddenly stiffened as he stared right into y/n’s eyes. “Hey, babe, I, uh... I gotta tell you something.” He said. 

Y/n raised one eyebrow at him, suddenly afraid. She hoped that it wasn’t anything bad, but she couldn't help but think about her current luck. Her friends leaving her, her favorite coworker getting fired... Jason wouldn’t leave her, too. Right? “What is it?”  

He got up, pulling her with him. She tilted her head to the side. She had absolutely no idea what to expect with that.  

Until he smiled and reached out to his pocked. She followed his hands’ movements, until he pulled a small, velvet box from his jeans. Her breath hitched, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes as she saw the scene she wanted to see for god knows how long: Jason Grace, the praetor of the Twelfth Legion, getting down on one knee.  

He looked up at her with all the love in the world as he spoke, a speech that was as engraved in his mind as the words of the Prophecy of The Seven.  

“Y/n, my love. You've been making me the happiest man on earth ever since I woke up in that bus holding your hand. Every moment we’ve spent together has been the best of my life. From the laughter we share to the challenges we’ve faced, you’ve been my rock, my joy, and my reason to smile every day. You’ve shown me what love truly means - how it’s not just about the good times but also about sticking together through the tough ones. Your strength, kindness, and endless patience never cease to amaze me. You’ve made me a better person, and I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”  

As his words started to sink in, her heart swelled with love and affection. The tears were already falling down her cheeks, and she couldn’t wait to say the words that’d change her life.  

“Y/n, you’re the light of my day and the breeze of my nights. I can’t wait to build a family with you. Would you give me the honor of accepting me as your husband?” He finally asked, smiling as never before.  

“Gods, yes!” She said, throwing herself on his arms. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes! I love you so much, love you, love you so much.” She muttered into his neck, bawling her eyes out as he hugged her.  

She hadn’t seen the ring, with all the tears and the emotion that was making her mind spin. But she was sure that anything with him would be perfect.  

He pulled away to slip the ring on her ring finger. It was a tourmaline, her father’s gemstone. She looked at him with pure awe as she thought about all the times she told him how that was her favorite stone. Gods, she loved him more than she could imagine.  

And she couldn’t wait to spend her life with him.  

[moongreenlight]

Insane reader my beloved. Literally my babygirl.

@katz-chow been ruminating on this one just for you <3

CW: Gore and violence

Reader who shows up late to their first meeting with the task force. Rolls up in their dark sedan with blacked-out windows and one too many dents on the front bumper wearing civvies instead of the uniform they were given and instructed to wear.

Reader who is a privately hired detective with a talent for interrogations. Not officially a member of the task force or the military because the tactics they use are far less than legal. More a secret weapon on retainer for when doing things by the book doesn’t do the trick.

Reader who gets on the good sides of the task force boys by being sugary sweet and barely hiding their true colors. Skins and bleaches the skulls of interrogations gone South and gives them to Ghost insisting they’re better than the costume store shit he’s got on now.

Gifts Price expensive cigars tucked between the fingers of a severed hand. Drops them off in large pink boxes with delicate ribbons and giggles when he asks a thousand questions about why and how and what the fuck he was supposed to do with this.

Tosses Gaz new knives on the field when they’ve landed a kill or just wrenched them out of someone’s stomach. They make a game out of chucking the gore-slicked blades at one another’s heads to see if they can dodge in time.

Starts playing dodgeball with Soap where they toss his less-stable bombs and unpinned grenades back and forth. Only stops after they’ve accidentally blown up the camp two missions in a row. (Also heavily rumored they have tramp stamps of each other’s names because they’re both too stubborn to back down from a dare but that’s just for vibes)

Reader who gets flown out on specialty missions where a hostage really refuses to talk and takes matters into their own hands. Sometimes hopping on radio when they’re in transit and requesting the force pulls extra men so they can play a live game of operation. They’ve been watching videos on the dark web and the first two seasons of Grey’s Anatomy from their military issued laptop so it’s like an 80% chance all the hostages live.

Reader who stops being allowed to train rookies because the first and only faux-deployment they led they told the group they ran out of rations three days in to a two week long training and they had to play rock-paper-scissors to create a bracket of people to eat first. The mission gets called early when Price gets word that there was actually a field amputation done. Reader doesn’t even apologize, just laughs their way through a barely reasonable explanation. I didn’t think they’d actually do it.

Reader who begs the boys to let them play kill, kiss, marry, kill in the middle of a boring interrogation and when they get told no or to focus on the task at hand, they throw such a fit that they end up sending a screwdriver through the eye of the person they’re supposed to be interrogating.

Reader who brings their own kit to interrogations. Lugs around pincers, rusted blades, rotary bone saws, and dull axes in a flamingo pink toolbox. Sets it up on a small table in front of the hostage and unboxes it like an influencer showing off PR.

Reader who also stops being able to run conditioning and drills with rookies because they pitted the privates against one another during a sparring session. Saying something about whoever could sheath a blade in the other first got a bonus check before tossing a few knives on the mat and walking away. Gaz had to run over and tell them you weren’t serious when he saw blood.

Reader who insists on being able to puppeteer the decapitated head of an enemy grunt they took down and reciting a few lines of Shakespeare to the boys. Dragging the mission out because they know as well as the boys do that everyone is on their timeline.

Reader who dances around hostages that have been zip tied to chairs and beat within an inch of their life. Singsonging threats and having the boys drag the limp bodies of their chain of command across the floor.

Reader who pouts when their victims pass out during questioning after a few of their fingers have been chopped off with a butcher’s knife. Huffs like they’re being put through a massive inconvenience and fishes smelling salts out of their toolkit to wake the poor sap back up.

[donutwatches]

MHA 3.3 - Kota - part 1/3

This is a watch-a-long blog, so no spoilers past this episode please!

Didn't he already do that last season? Did I imagine that? I love that his training is creating the perfect bath temperature.

Apparently Midoriya's training is getting beaten up by a furry. I wonder what he is going to tell his Mom when she asked him what he got up to at summer camp? "Well...there were these park rangers dressed as cats".

What would class 1A do without Iida keeping it together 24/7? Everyone is dead on their feet, but Iida is like "Look alive people, we're about to make the greatest curry of all time".

HIS TINY SMILE. This was a small detail, but it was so moving. Just lighting a fire for cookin and making his classmates smile made him happy. In seasons 1&2 he was so shut off socially.

He is finding out that the part of his quirk that he rejected and hated for so long can help people, and that he can use it in a positive way.

Momo's power comes from food! She can make weapons from her body by eating cake, what a dream.

"It's like poo". Sero, noooooo! Why did he have to make it gross? lol

There is a full doozy essay incoming. I went ham. So don't click 'keep reading' unless you actually want to keep READING.

What Kota says in this episode got me spiraling into essay territory. Kota's point of view has helped a lot of MHA's themes click into place for me, but these thoughts have been brewing for me since season 1.

Categorizing people and placing labels on them can lead to dehumanization. The 'villain' label makes people who commit crimes less than human, and the 'hero' label elevates people into being more than human. Either way, dehumanizing people has consequences, and in Kota's perspective, it got his parents killed.

Someone labeled as a 'villain' can think, well I'm already called a villain, I might as well act that way. Someone labelled as a 'hero' is pressured to live up to being put on a pedestal, and that can lead to failure, or hypocrisy (like Endeavor's outside hero image conflicting with behind closed doors abuse).

The villains versus heroes narrative feeds a cycle where they are in perpetual competition with each other to negative results for the community. As if crime and justice are the same as competing sports teams, like red team vs blue team. This leads to what Kota says, "they're all showing off", and end up "killing each other".

I have had jobs where I worked with kids, and I saw social labeling play out. Some kids got labeled as 'trouble makers'. The kids saw that they got attention for challenging behavior, and it got worse. I have heard a kid state "I'm a bad kid" outright, and they internalized that as part of their identity. It is hard to undo the damage.

It reminds me of Shinso from last season, as an example of a teen being labeled a villain by his peers. He fought hard to reject being put in that category, but many real life teens don't escape the labeling.

There are also kids that get singled out as 'golden children'. These kids feel pressured to be perfect, and can struggle with their flawed human identity not matching their 'golden' reputation.

Bakugo is an example of an over-praised kid that develops a superiority complex. He is insecure about not being the best, because he was categorized as 'the best' at age five. I think 'troublemaker' versus 'golden child' is a small scale version of the 'villain' versus 'hero' in MHA.

These categories lead us to making blanket assumptions about individuals who fit the right image. All might is the symbol of peace, so he must be perfect, right? But the show reveals that All Might, while he is a good man, is a flawed human being. We see him struggling to upkeep the shiny symbol he has created, at the cost of his health and social life.

I wonder if MHA is going to explore a villain that could have been a good citizen, but got trapped by how society has cornered them into a 'villain' labeled box? I think this might be the major theme of the entire story. I've cracked it, I can stop here, I don't even need to watch anymore episodes, bye! ;p

"My friend", ok Deku, you're not fooling anyone.

The starry night backgrounds in this scene are beautiful!

This montage of Midoriya trying to force a quirk to happen almost killed me.

It takes me back to the 1st episode where Deku's opening line is "we are not all created equal", and the episode shows us both him and Bakugo being put into opposite social boxes based on their quirks.

Deku was labeled bad/useless because he was quirkless, and this flashback underlines how much it hurt him, but he was saved by how strongly he held to his ideals of heroism. That is the positive flip side of the 'hero' label. It gave Deku something to look up to and live for.

Kota isn't ready to accept that rejecting the realities of hero society is going to be more painful in the long run. He is too little, and trying to process so much grief, it breaks my heart.

What also breaks my heart, is that Deku is speaking from experience. He has lived quirkless in a hero society, and rejecting the reality of his quirkless-ness back then caused him a lot of hurt too.

This is such a great exchange. MHA doesn't do a lot of quieter character building moments, but this talk between Kota and Deku was so good.

Part 2 is here

Masterlist

TAGLIST

@jessiedead @blackaquokat @granny-griffin @champion-prism @bicheetopuff @setfiretotheshadows @hyperfixations-and-cringe

[hyperfixiation-station]

I Didn't Mean That

TW: Blood, death, angst

Ghost hated you. It was just one of those things. Sky is blue, Earth is round, Ghost hates you. You weren't quite sure why, but you tried not to let it bother you.

Unfortunately, you were sent on a week-long op with him. You had been stuck with him for 3 whole days. 3 days full of insults and barely stifled anger. Day four brought a change of pace, but not a welcome one. You were stuck with him, holed up in a cave, using rocks for cover, firing on an enemy team who's camp you had stumbled into.

Ghost wasn’t sure why he was attracted to you. In truth, you were everything he should have despised, but for some odd reason, he found it alluring. Maybe it was your care-free attitude, the non-stop talking, the way you always had a joke up your sleeve and a smile for everyone. Maybe the saying ‘opposites attract’ really was true. Either way, he was not going to fall for you. Okay so maybe he couldn’t stop staring at you, and maybe his day was better whenever he heard your voice, and maybe your smile lit up the room and he wanted to keep it for himself, but it didn’t matter. All getting close to people had done in the past was cause pain, and he was not going to hurt you, or get hurt in return.

He had volunteered for this mission because he wouldn’t be going home on leave, as he had no one to go home to. However, if he had known that you had also volunteered he would not have come. As it was, he was now stuck with you, in a cave, with two M4’s and one box of ammo standing between the two of you and hundreds of enemy soldiers.

“Soap, how far out are you?” You cry into the radio, even though he had told you two minutes ago that he was 8 minutes out.

“Six minutes sweetheart, just hold on.” His voice crackles over the radio.

“You asking him every ten seconds isn’t going to get him here any faster.” Ghosts snaps at you. You roll your eyes and don’t dignify him with a response, training your gun on the incoming combatants and firing.

“Another one bites the dust.” You sing under your breath as another enemy drops.

“What the hell was that?” Ghost hisses at you.

“Another one bites the dust.” You say, grinning as you keep your eyes trained on the enemies. As best you can tell from his glare, he doesn’t find you funny. Like that's anything new.

We sit in silence for a few minutes, the only sounds being gunfire and us reloading. Suddenly the ground shakes and you look up to see a helo tearing the enemies to shreds. You smile as the radio crackles to life.

“Y/N, Ghost, how copy?”

“You came just in time Soap!” You cry into the radio.

“Glad to hear it! We can’t pick you up here, the terrain is too rocky, we’ll meet you about 12 klicks north-east of here.”

“Copy.” Ghost says. He stands up, holding his gun in front of him as you do the same.

“We go in like there are still hostiles left.” He says, you nod but decide against saying ‘not my first rodeo.’ He takes point, and you follow behind, sweeping the land in front of you for anything that moves. You walk in silence for almost a mile, picking your way over dead bodies and ducking under branches. Something flashes in the corner of your eye and you see a laser heading directly for your partner.

"Ghost!” You yell, stepping into the line of fire and swinging around to face the enemy. You pull your trigger, but not in time. Your back slams into Ghost as something rips through your shoulder, and your body erupts in pain. It takes everything you have to keep from screaming as you hit the ground.

Your whole body goes numb as Ghost drags you behind a rock to avoid the enemy fire.

“Soap!” Ghost yells into his radio, his voice hoarse. “Medic!”

He sounds so far away. Distantly, you realize that being able to see him and your body is not a good thing, but all you are really focused on is the fact that Ghost sounds worried.

His hand grips your shoulder and you are slammed back into your body. Pain laces through you and you grit your teeth to keep from screaming. Your vision is hazy and every breath sends pain through your shoulder. You try to curl up around the pain, let out a small whine as that movement hurts as well.

Ghost’s eyes go wide and he tightens his grip to keep you still. He removes his jacket and wraps it tightly around the wound on your shoulder. Blood soaks through the material almost immediately, and uses his weight to keep the pressure. You sob as his attempts to stop the bleeding feel like fire in your bones. You feel him shudder as he watches the blood soak into the jacket. Pain laces through your body with every touch, but it is quickly becoming numb again. Not good you think to yourself.

Ghost yells into his radio again, and this time the medic replies. The sounds of helicopters approaching are louder now. You cry out in pain as hands slip under you, one under your neck and one under your legs, vision going black as he picks you up.

You blink, and now you're lying on the floor again, staring up at the roof of a helo. Ghost leans over you, brows furrowed in concern. Distantly, you can hear him repeating your name. Is he mad at me? I’m so tired.

“No. Goddammit y/n, stay awake.” Ghost yells. He watches your eyes flutter in response before going limp again. He looks to the medic, who is busy pressing bandages onto your shoulder, trying to stop the bleeding.

“Stay with me, goddammit.” He mutters. This wasn’t supposed to happen. The whole point of hating them was so they didn't get hurt, he thinks angrily, and now they may die thinking I hate them. Why am I so fucking bad with this stuff.

~Happy ending~

“We’re almost there!” Soap’s frantic voice sounds from over the radio. The helo touches down and Ghost is shoved aside as a million different doctors swarm over you, rushing you into the infirmary and away from his view. He tries to shove the worry he feels down, but all that happens is it is replaced by guilt.

~time skip~

“I can’t believe you were that close to dying.” Ghost says coldly. Your eyes flutter open again, and you blink at him. Your throat feels raw and dry, your vision hazy.

“N’ce ta see you c’re.” You slur out, wincing as the movement hurts.

“Don’t be a dick.” He says to you, but there's no fire behind it. He helps you sit up, and you think you seem him wince when you grit your teeth in pain. He helps drink water before laying you back down.

“I’m injured, i get to be a dick.” I murmur, tired suddenly.

Your eyes flutter closed, your face flushing from the pain. Ghost's face is full of remorse, and he puts a gentle hand on your shoulder. "Sorry," he mumbles, sitting down beside you.

“Wh’t’r you s’rry f’r? You d’dn’t shhhoot me.” You slur out, too tired to function.

He clears his throat. “I’m sorry. For… I don’t know. The way I’ve treated you, I guess. I didn’t mean it.” Is the last thing you hear before being dragged back into oblivion.

Later, weeks of transfusions and physical therapy and surgeries and bandages later, you are set free from the confines of that horrible prison they call a ‘hospital.’ Ghost is there to greet you and you think that maybe, just maybe, getting shot was a good thing. Your mind flutters back to the second conversation you had with him, one where you were lucid enough to actually communicate.

“I didn’t mean it either.” You had said, “So let's start over. My name is y/n l/n. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Pleasure. My name is Simon Riley, but most people call me Ghost.”

Yeah, maybe getting shot wasn’t the worst thing ever.

~And now, because I’m a slut for angst~

“Nononono.” The medics frantic voice echoes over the sounds of the chopper, “I can’t get a pulse.” He thrusts the bandages he’d been holding into Ghost's hands and instructs him to hold them down on the wound as he begins CPR.

The guilt and despair Ghost feels is sickening as he looks at your pale, bloodstained face and unmoving chest. Your blood gushes over his hands, is soaked into his clothes, stains his skin.

“Come on, dammit.” His voice cracks as he presses harder on your shoulder, “I’ll say sorry. I’ll say it a thousand times if you come back.” His hands shake as he presses down. His eyes flick up to meet the medic's bloodstained face, and his heart drops as the medic slowly shakes his head.

“I’m sorry, I'm so, so sorry.” Ghost whispers, tears pricking his eyes as he stands in front of your mother, forever the bearer of bad news.

“I’m sorry.” he whispers as he presents your father your flag and dog tags.

‘I’m sorry.” He whispers to you as he drops dirt onto your coffin, guilt and regret eating him alive.

“I’m sorry.”

[stell404]

𝗜𝗜𝗜. 𝗙𝗔𝗠𝗜𝗟𝗬 𝗝𝗘𝗪𝗘𝗟𝗦

𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗘 𝗙𝗟𝗬𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗘𝗖𝗥𝗘𝗧𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗣𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗢𝗥𝗔'𝗦 𝗕𝗢𝗫

🎧

Family jewels masterlist | back to navigation Parings: Sully family x reader, jake sully x daughter!reader Word count: 900 Notes: Hope ya'll like this, next chapter wont be out for a while because I'm gonna be very very busy, so so sorry. And to explain the title: "Out come flying all the secrets of Pandora's box" means that their secrets are out, the people know they are not the perfect family they always show. Taglist: @lorre-verie @eywas-heir @damiiworld @arianapjs @arminsgfloll @buterccup @ifuckinghatemathrahhhhhh @zaddyneteyamlovergirl @inluvwithneteyam @il0vejj @neteyamforlife @ducks118 @ssc7514@liyahsocorro @saltedcoffeescotch @im-in-a-pansexual-panik WARNINGS: Mentions de@th, scuic!de

🎧

Weeks have passed since their escapade and things have cooled down, they are still not back to normal but hey, this is something I guess.

[Name] finally, after nights and nights of debates with the little voices in her head, went on with her plan—her plan to tell her father about her dream to do her Iknimaya.

The night was calm, leaves and the hanging vines from the hallelujah mountains swayed softly with the wind. Calm chirping noise can be heard lightly. The clan was putting things away for the night, hunters and warriors finally resting, healers making their way out of the healer's tent. It is strange for the Omaticaya to have calm nights like this, hopefully it will last long.

[Name] walked around High camp looking for her father, she noticed how things were calm hoping not to ruin it with what she's gonna do. She quickly found her father sitting down and a stump of rock, sharpening his hunting knife.

[Name] stood in front of her dad, clearing her throat to get her fathers attention.

"What do you need?" Jake asked with an un-enthusiastic tone, dropping the knife he was sharpening.

"I was just wondering, you know, I mean—I'm kinda getting old now and like, don't you think, I mean I don't know but..." she rambled, trailing off and mumbling at the end.

"[Name]," he sighed, "get to the point."

"I want to do my Iknimaya, as soon as possible." she said, hoping her father would agree.

Silence. Silence filled the space between them.

A beat passed.

And then another one.

"No." Jake said, breaking the silence.

"Why?" There it was. Always, why? why? why?

"Because," he paused. He himself does not know the answer, was it because he is worried, because he wants to shield her from everything bad? Or was it because he doesn't trust her? Why?

"Because you are not mature enough." he said, finally finding the "right" words.

"Lo'ak is younger than me and much more immature and still he got his Iknimaya first."

"Your brother is ready, he is strong."

"And I'm not? Please, I am on top of my training. I've beaten the strongest of warriors so tell me, is that not good enough?"

"See! This is the reason, you are being immature right now!" Jake shouted, anger tainted his voice, attracting the attention of the people as they heard their Olo'eyktan and his first daughter fighting.

Neytiri heard their quarrel from afar, she ran straight to them to try and stop them.

"[Name], stop it." her mother warned, holding her wrist.

"And to answer your question, no, that is not good enough." Jake added, gasps can be heard from the crowd that formed around them. [Name] felt her heart break at this.

"Nothing I do is never good enough." she mumbled.

Jake didn't know what happened but he snapped, he didn't know why but he did, "Get out, get out! I do not want to see you right now!" he shouted.

"Do you ever want to see me, dad—oh sorry, I mean—sir?" she said in a mocking tone.

"You think you're so wise, huh?" he chuckled.

"Well if you're such an amazing mighty warrior, go do it, go! Complete your Iknimaya." he shouted, voice laced with venom. "Kill yourself for all I care!"

[Name] was stunned, "Sir, please—" she spoke with a shaky voice, She was scared, scared of her father. The one who was supposed to shield her from men who treated her like this. The one who was supposed to love her more than anything.

"No, no, no. Don't 'Sir' Me. You do what you want right? You're responsible right? You're smart. You're strong, oh so STRONG!" he laughed.

"Jake! It is the middle of the night, are you crazy? She might die, she will die." her mother hissed.

"Then let her die. She believes she is so strong, she believes she can do it, she wants to do it, so why stop her?" Jake chuckled once more, this time his voice was filled with venom. She did want this, hell, she wants it more than anything, but she didn't want it to be like...this.

[Name] couldn't process what was happening, she knew her father hates her, she knew that she was one of her fathers greatest regrets, but to let her die? She felt like a thousand bullets were shot straight to her heart.

"I hate you!" she screeched. She did not mean it, of course she didn't, she loves her dad, more than she will ever love herself.

But does he love her? "Yeah? Then go! Go and never come back!" he shouted back.

"Jake!" Neytiri hissed, the grip she has on her daughter's wrist loosens. [Name] noticed this, taking advantage of it and pushing her mother aside so she could run.

"[Name]! [Name]! come back!" she heard her siblings shout out to her, voices quivering; but she did not care, she just wanted to get away.

She ran and ran, as fast as she could, with no particular location in mind. Just running through the woods, the tall grass, the bioluminescent plants of the Pandorian Forest.

She found herself laying on the soft grass. Her eyes were blurry, tears running down her face, letting out whimpers and sobs ever so slightly.

She cried and cried until there were no more tears left in her.

[cuddlecow]

FINALLY FRANCO SIMPS.....I love Franco so much I'm glad ppl are making content for him!! :> May I request headcanons of Franco having a crush on the reader? I think it would be def weird for him because all he knows is pain :(

YEAHHH!! I love Franco so much it's unreal hehe. I hope this checked all the boxes for you, and thank you for requesting!

Franco Barbi Having A Crush Headcanons

The first time he saw you was in his trial, “Poison The Medicine”. You had just woken up the sleeping baby by smashing your fist into the red button. He stumbled off of the chair, falling onto his hands and knees before getting up. He was about to say the rest of his usual lines, but his eyes landed on you and he temporarily froze and stuttered. He quickly recovered, making his display of aggression by shooting the two hanging reagents.

Franco wasn’t allowed into his own trial except for a few times, and so in the meantime he thought deeply about you. He would for sure yell at the Murkoff personnel to go back to “make sure his product wasn’t being fucked with”. In reality, that was just an excuse to go and scope you out a little more.

Once you had progressed to the part where you had to acquire three parcels of product, you were about to be in for a rough time. Franco was feeling pretty disgusted with himself and somewhat freaked out that he actually seemed to like someone. After the whole thing between his dad regarding Angelina, he had been estranged from love. He was beginning to question whether or not he loved her, or lusted after her. He shook his head and cursed to himself.

You got the first parcel that was tied to the eye symbol, and quickly ducked into the train car to the left in the rail yard. You took mental note of Franco’s huffing and almost asthmatic sounding breathing. 

“I can’t help havin’ a sweet tooth.” He said whilst grinning like the mad bastard he is. After a couple minutes of searching, you made it upstairs to look for the symbols. Little did you know, Franco was playing dirty and camped out in one of the offices where he could see through the windows down below to where you were. He drooled, admiring the way you walked and not to mention how gorgeous you looked..

“Who’s a succulent little treat?” Franco cooed as he waddled down the halls, mainly talking to himself. All of a sudden, he heard the clattering of a paint canister. You were mentally panicking and picking up a cold sweat. 

“Come out and play with me!” He snarled, beginning to get irritated that he hadn’t gotten to see you nearly as much as he would’ve liked. You retreated with the parcels back to the lab and cooker.

In the meantime, Franco was thinking fondly of you before he suddenly turned sour and remembered his dad doing numerous neglectful and abusive things when he shared any differing opinion from his father. Love was one of those things.

You were on the cargo ship, shakily pressing the red button where the wheel would be. A platform in the middle of the deck rose up with Franco standing on it. He stumbled over to the glass, not saying a word. He had his usual mean face on, but his true feelings were the complete opposite. He aimed his Lupara at the glass, the only thing shielding you from him. You had experienced this twice already, and previously, the glass didn’t break. 

How severely wrong and naive to think it would save you a third time. He pressed his finger into the trigger, firing at the glass. It shattered, just like your confidence in that moment. Your face drained of all color it held as you froze in place. Your limbs felt extremely heavy yet your mind was hazy and lightheaded. One foot dragged slightly backwards as your body was going to turn and run for the stairs down into the bay. 

Franco wasn’t interested in killing you, not by a long shot. He knew he had to get you injured in order for him to be able to talk to you. Or at least that’s how he knew to get someone to talk.

Your leg gave out as you went to shift your weight, causing you to let out a silent scream, your horrified eyes looking straight up at him as he approached you, “You’re pretty when you’re scared.”

Franco had a look of pride on his face at his succession. You had passed out, your heart rate still on the fritz. “Oh, suga’..” He looked down at your passed out form, admiring you for a moment..

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Shadows and tears

So this is a series about Azriel and reader. English is not my first language so please excuse any mistakes. I hope you like it!

Summary: Reader is a tortured soul who barely escaped the brutality of the Illyrian camps finding shelter in the Day Court. Her identity was well hidden until she caught the attention of the Night Court’s Shadowsinger. Will the mating bond be enough for their love to settle in?

Warnings: angst, mentions of abuse and trauma

You don't need a tissue box.....yet

Masterlist

Prologue , Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6, Chapter 7 , Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10

Chapter 4

Snap

You woke up, your head pounding, you stomach turning, and you groaned. You threw the duvet off and got up realising you are still wearing your dress. You remembered Mor winnowing you home to the house and nothing else, you must have taken off your heels and jump into bed. You got ready for training, leaving your room to get breakfast hoping it will calm your nausea. You managed to find the dining room without any mistake this time and found everyone already sitting on the table munching down their breakfast, only Mor looked as bad as you, staring at the food like she would puke on top of it.

“Good morning you look like shit” “Always the charmer Cassian” Nesta replied before you could.

You noticed that the only empty chair was between Mor and Nesta, the one you used the other morning next to the spymaster was occupied by the annoyingly sweet girl. You felt an ache in your chest but ignored it taking a seat between the two beautiful females. Mor looked at you and smiled “Me and Nesta are planning to go to Rita’s tonight, would you like to come?” “Yes y/n Mor told me you had so much fun” Nesta almost screamed, a genuine smile on her face, her eyes shining. You couldn’t ignore how beautiful she looks like that.

“Of course” you smiled.

You felt a pair of eyes on you so you lifted your gaze meeting Azriel’s hazel ones. Some scenes flushed in your mind, him on the balcony staring the city bellow, your head on his shoulder, a smile on his face, you shook your head, a blush creeping on your face as you thought you dreamed of him last night. He sent you a curious look, slightly tensing but his focus turning to the girl next to him as she touched his shoulder and whispered something to him. Everyone at the table noticed their interaction but didn’t bother to acknowledge it as they continued what they were doing but with an annoyed look on their faces. “So, y/n are you training with Az again today?” It was Cassian who pulled your attention from the couple. Pulling also Azriel’s focus from the girl next to him. “I think so…” you replied your gaze falling to Azriel in a silent question.

“But Azzie I thought you could help me with my garden today” Elain -if you remember correct from what Mor told you last night- whined, you almost cringed at the high pitch noise.

“I’m sorry Elain” Azriel muttered a tight smile on his lips.

You thought about telling him that it’s okay, you could train tomorrow but your selfish side wanted his full attention, so you kept your mouth shut only offering Elain an apologetic smile. Azriel cleared his throat and stood up. “Are you ready?” he asked you, noticing that you were only playing with the food on your plate as you were feeling nauseous. You nodded and got up saying goodbye to the rest and following him to the balcony. At first you were curious, but then you remembered that Cassian was going to train the Valkyries on the roof, so you had to find another place.

“You know how to fly right?” Azriel questioned examining your wings that had faded scars at their base from the clipping you escaped. You nodded and flexed your wings shooting to the sky with a smile on your face. When you were younger you would sneak out of the room your parents kept you into with your brother and went on long flights, until your father caught you and threw you into a cell. However, you had the chance to fly again in the day court but not frequently since Helion kept your identity hidden in case someone informed Rhysand. You turned to see Azriel next to you his hair a mess from the wind smiling and enjoying the feeling of the sun closer to you two.

“Follow me” he shouted and dove in the clouds, you did as he asked, trying to keep your balance, it had been way too long since the last time you were able to fly so freely. Azriel noticed that and slowed down staying on your side in case you needed help. After some minutes you landed on a beautiful hill, full of fae flowers, you had seen them again, your mother used to have those she adored the way they sparkled at night. You thought of her, you didn’t know what the consequences for her were after helping you escape, you knew they wouldn’t be good.

“Let’s begin” Azriel announced taking a seat on the ground gesturing for you to do the same. The day went by quickly and you felt like you could almost control your shadows completely, not like Azriel of course who used them in his missions. You could keep them tight around you, let them flow away -not unnoticed by others- and inform you of their findings and use them to cover yourself -still not unnoticed by others-. It was a start though and Azriel was surprised by how quickly you followed his advises and managed to correct yourself without him pointing your mistakes.

Afternoon found you and Azriel sitting on the hill telling stories about times your shadows embarrassed you laughing freely. As time went by you completely forgot about your plans with Mor and Nesta it was around midnight when Azriel got up and announced that you have to get back to the house reminding you also about girl’s night. You hurried on your feet stumbling.

“I have to be at Rita’s” you muttered quickly and jumped off the edge of the cliff, your wings taking into action immediately and pushing you through the wind. You landed in front of Rita’s and run inside almost knocking down a waiter on your way. You quickly scanned the place and found Nesta and Mor in a booth drinking and singing, you squeezed through the bodies of the dancing faes and got to the booth. “Girl, I know you can do better than Illyrian leathers” Mor cringed taking in your form.

“Sorry training took longer than expected” you muttered, and your shadows shot up to cover you.

“I hoped other things took longer than expected” Nesta winked “but now that I see your shadows covering you, I guess it was only training” she continued with a disapproving look. A hint of pride inside those beautiful eyes as she noticed the progress with your shadows.

You felt your cheeks burning causing Nesta to burst into laughter, Mor following suit.

“You are awful” you scowled taking your seat next to them. They only laughed harder.

“How long do you think it’s going to take for shadow boy to realize that she is the one for him” Mor said, and you almost choked on the drink the waiter has brought you remembering you from the other night.

“I’m not the one for him” you gasped staring at them wide eyed.

“Oh come on, shadows, tortured in the past, wings, you two are practically the same” Nesta replied rolling her eyes.

“You know sometimes we need the opposite of us not the same” you replied, your heart burning as you did. You knew that you had already fallen for the shadowsinger but his heart belonged to Elain and maybe that’s the way it should be, maybe it’s for the better.

Mor just shrugged, her look only telling you that she rooted for you and Azriel. Nesta fell silent but kept the same look as Mor.

“Anyway, how is it going with you and the brute?” Mor turned to Nesta not missing the thankful look you sent her way.

You spent the rest of the night talking about anything and everything and for the first time you felt like you could fit somewhere, Afterall you deserved a family, didn’t you?

The rest of the days went by easily, you and Azriel spent most of your time together having fun. The moments you spent with the others you would both send longing looks at each other and when everyone said their goodnights you would stay at the balcony together. It was a month later when you had landed without a sound on the balcony -thanks to the training with the shadow singer- that you found him on the couch with Elain in his arms, kissing her like a starved male, a bile climbed in your throat and then you felt it…

Snap.