#i admit i was not that crazy about this at first

[venomhound]

Hazbin Hotel - Morning Routines

Kind of a part 2 to the Sleeping Habits Post??? While that one is about falling asleep with them, this one is about what its like to wake up with them. Same lineup; Alastor, Vox, and Lucifer. I... also might have accidentally started a Charlie one so I might be doing more parts to these (｡ŏ_ŏ)

Contents/WARNINGS: Gender neutral reader; NSFW in Vox's section; mostly just nuclear powered fluff; somebody PLEASE get Lucifer a doctor the man is so depressed (18+), MDNI, NSFW below the cut ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

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Alastor ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

As gone over in my sleeping habits post, Alastor does not like sharing a bed normally. But if it does happen to be a blue moon and he actually stayed the whole night; it is a sight to behold in the morning.

Alastor's hair is naturally curly. Due to internalized racism (from you know, the 1920s), Alastor insists his hair must be straight and has a crazy hair routine to keep it that way. One of many reasons why his hair is so... gnarly looking.

Right after he wakes up in the mornings though, his bedhead breaks through the illusion. You get to see the glorious sight of Alastor's hair attempting to go back to its natural form. The edges of his locks are making small loops in all directions, and his face is framed in loose ringlets.

Unfortunately, this only lasts for about ten minutes at most before he goes to "fix" it.

Other then getting to see that beautiful sight, the mornings are the same regardless of if he stayed in the bed with you or not; You always get to wake up to his wonderful cooking.

Alastor has unfortunately had to take it upon himself to be the hotel chef. Charlie did try to do it for a little bit, but that resulted in more fires and ambiguous remains then anything. Vaggie and Husk can barely operate a microwave. Nifty is well... Nifty.

So Alastor pops into the hotel kitchen at around 7am to start cooking breakfast for the hotel. More 7:30 if his hair has been particularly unruly that day.

Alastor pokes fun at everyone over being their chef, but he really likes it actually. He will never admit that to anyone though. He finds the mornings relaxing because he gets to just cook, something that he enjoys and thats deeply nostalgic for him. It starts him off on the right foot for the day.

The only times it starts him on the wrong foot, is when Lucifer decides to get up at an ungodly hour (or straight up pull an all nighter), just so he can steal the kitchen and make the hotel breakfast instead.

Lucifer does this because he thinks he is a better chef then Alastor. Surely, Alastor's annoyance is proof of that! But Alastor is actually pissed off because his plans for the morning got set on fire by Lucifer's dumb ego.

Alastor really does go above and beyond as the chef by the way. For a cannibal, you would never expect how respectful he is of everyone's dietary preferences. If your a vegetarian, or even a vegan, Alastor won't blow you off. He will make something for everyone that still works for you, or just make you something special. He sees it less as you having a dietary restriction and more as a challenge of his skills.

Anyways, thanks to Alastor, mornings at the hotel are always extremely nice. Everyone comes down to eat together, hang out, and just be. Its a tranquil time and atmosphere that he has taken great care to cultivate. Sets him up perfectly mentally for his afternoon radio shows.

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Vox ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

Vox always wakes up with a big sigh. He is very much that type of person whose first thought when waking up is, 'goddamn it, I woke up'. Hates leaving the bed but knows he has to.

At least Vox stops having those thoughts when you become apart of his life.

If your still in the bed when he wakes up, Vox is immediately comforted by your weight on his chest. He cant help but smile as his arms tighten around you. One of Vox's hands starts absentmindedly carding through your hair as he goes over everything he has to do that day in his head.

If your not in the bed when Vox wakes up, it completely fucks with his mind. His sleeping body does not register you moving or getting up at all. So from Vox's perspective, you were in his arms one second then... not. Vox will wake up to you not there and be super confused. He will legit start looking for you like a puppy.

Depending on your relationship status with him, Vox might even just assume that he dreamt/hallucinated the whole encounter with you. Only realizing that it actually happened upon outside evidence.

Operating on the assumption that you two are a thing; Vox now tries to keep his mornings flexible because of you. They used to be very regimented. Vox would wake up, get dressed, grab a coffee, then be right out the door to head to work. But now that your here, the mornings are much more relaxed.

When you first move in, Vox's first order of business is to hire a personal chef. Don't get me wrong, Vox loves it when you cook for him. The guy absolutely melts when you do. But the reality is he loves it a little... too much. Which often results in no breakfast actually being had because Vox ends up dragging you back to the bedroom. Of course, that's if he doesn't end up fucking you right on the counter or kitchen table.

Look. Seeing you by the stove in an apron just does something to him, alright?

If you ever even asked Vox if he knew how to cook, the guy would probably bluescreen. The only thing he knows how to ""cook"" is 'takeout'. (image included) If he tried to boil an egg, he would burn the water.

So yeah. Vox takes initiative to get you two a chef. He doesn't want you to have to cook for him anyway; he wants it to be an act of love rather then an obligation. If you push Vox and say you want to cook for him, he will making heart eyes and be ready to marry you on the spot.

Seriously. Make him cute, homemade lunches for work. Vox will brag about them to everyone. Put adorable love notes in there and everything. The guy will be on his knees.

Regardless of who actually made the breakfast, Vox always has it with you. He may be a busy man, but he makes sure this is a time you get him exclusively. Vox lets you know of his schedule for the day (assuming Valentino doesnt set it on fire ofc) and when he plans on being home.

When Vox leaves for work he actually has a genuine smile on his face. Don't get me wrong, he still hates it and cant wait to get back home to you. But Vox doesn't feel that same crushing dread that he did before.

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Lucifer ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

It used to be so hard to get up for him. It wasn't uncommon for Lucifer to just wallow in bed for an entire day. But now that your here, everything has changed. Lucifer actually has a reason to get up in the mornings again. He used to just go back to sleep and pretend the world doesn't exist.

He is a morningbird by nature, so he often wakes up before you. However, Lucifer hates leaving your arms and the cozy bed. So one of two things happens depending on how he is feeling.

If Lucifer is feeling good, or just particularly lovey that morning; he will pull you extra close to him and start kissing all over you. You'll wake up to the wonderful feeling of fleeting kisses and his smile on your skin. No better way to start the day.

As soon as he notices your awake, Lucifer moves to place quick, chaste kisses all over your face. All while asking, "How are you feeling, Ducky?", "Did you sleep okay?", "Have any fun dreams?".

Lucifer looks at you with the most adoring look in his eyes, desperate to snuggle and feel your skin on his. He wants to listen to you talk about anything and everything.

After awhile of cuddling and pillow talk, you have to be the one to convince Lucifer to get up. He will playfully whine and try to keep you in the bed, but he won't keep it up for long. Lucifer also cant wait to make you a wonderful breakfast and talk more while he cooks too~

Lucifer is a chatterbox when he wants to be. Especially with someone he loves. He basically wants to imbibe your entire being; that includes getting to know every random thought you have and every dark corner of your mind.

But if Lucifer feels the weight of depression weighing him down that morning, he simply snuggles deeper into you when he wakes. His grip on you tightens, and he pulls the sheets tighter around you two. Like he is building a cocoon or trying to shield you both from the outside.

Sometimes you can tell as soon as he wakes up that he is in a bad state. Instead of kisses, you are woken up by the trembling of his small form. Shaking with unshed tears and fresh pain from old wounds.

Lucifer clings to you desperately; the grip of his claws threatening to break your skin. You have to physically force him away from you just so you can look him in the eyes. Even then, Lucifer whimpers and tries to hug you tighter in protest.

He will begin to plead with you. Saying things like "Don't leave me" or "Please stay". You kiss him gently and bring him into your chest as he finally begins to sob. You two stay there for a long time. Lucifer is extra clingy that day. Attached to you at the hip and always holding your hand in his. His heart rate picks up and he starts to get frantic if your fingers slip out of his.

Mornings with Lucifer are overall just very slow. Meandering. Lucifer's safe place has become the bed since the heights of his depression, so he is reluctant to leave it. Some dark part of him feels that the longer he can keep you in bed, the longer he wont have to say an inevitable 'goodbye'.

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FURTHER READING ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

Its a super silly idea, but I love >>THIS POST<< by @antiheroalastor where you find out Alastor has a extensive skincare routine.

Cute imagine by @voxisdaddy where Vox has to cuddle you to fall asleep can be found >>HERE<<

Then something more spicy, >>HERE<< are some ADORABLE Lucifer aftercare headcanons by @redr0sewrites. Rose writes the rambling, dorky, disaster Lucifer that I have envisioned in my head PERFECTLY.

[icarusredwings]

Do you guys ever think about dementia Charles seeing Pietro and getting sad or becoming really happy because his poor mind connects the dots that he's Erik? It dosn't compute that this wouldn't be Erik because hes too young to be Erik rather assuming that he is young Erik and not exactly having the logic to understand that they are so differently aged.

"Oh! My old friend, you've gotten a haircut. Quite bold of you. It makes you look much younger."

".. yeah, yeah, old man.." he mutters, trying to avoid him best he can, but sometimes, when the others are busy, he can't stand to leave him alone. Coming to sit with him just to litsen to him gab about random nonsense, talking so fondly about his X-men and memories dear to him.

"Do you remember?"

"Do I remember what?"

"When Jean got her first bad grade and she cried to you about how cruel I was to her." He chuckles softly. "And all she got was a B-"

Pietro stares at him like he's crazy. Jean cried to his father? But why? He had his own children to take care of. So why would he treat her like that? It makes him a bit angry. "No.. I don't. What else?"

"Hm?"

"What else happened? With jean and my da- erm. Me."

"I believe it's Jean and I." He corrects his grammer, making the younger man roll his eyes in annoyance. Once a professor always a professor I guess.

"Sure. Jean and I.."

"You acussed me of being too hard on her, but when I explained it, you laughed... I haven't seen you laugh like that in so long.." It's sort of now that Charles remembers what's going on. Who he's talking to.

"..Im sorry. Who are you again?"

"Well you like to call me speedster."

"Pft. No I do not. Mr. Maximoff.. you've grown so big since the last time ive seen you."

'You just saw me yesterday' he thinks but makes that awkward smile and nods. "Yup.."

"Youll have to forgive me. Im not always.... here."

"I know.. are you alright?"

He shrugs in his chair. "About as alright as anyone could be in my situation." Ah yes. The paralyzed old bald man who was losing his mind still had jokes. Funny. But sad. He remembered him being so similar and yet.. so different.

It's not long before Jean comes to give him his medicine again, convincing him that it was for the kid's saftey. "You don't want to hurt them. Do you, Charles?"

"No... but I'm not that gone yet. I can decide when it's best to take my medication."

She smiles so sweetly at him. "Professor, you made this time schedule yourself. Im just doing what you told me. You always knew best for us."

"Oh.. well, alright then."

Before Jean can walk away, He stares at her.

"....Why did my father like you?"

"Excuse me?"

"Charles... he said.." He trails off, not sure how to say it without talking too quickly.

"He said you cried to my father. And.. he defended you."

Jean tilts her head. "I wouldn't say defended. I was just a child having a fit." She admits then shifts, looking at the walls as if remembering.

".. He was here a lot.. and then he just.. stopped coming. Im sorry. I don't know why. Like I said I was just-"

"Didyoureadhismind?"

"Uhm.. just a couple times."

"Jean used to con you into getting her ice cream." Charles smiles, closing his eyes, reminiscing.

"He.. got you ice cream?"

Jean's not dumb. She understands his frustrations, glancing at the old man and then to Pietro again. "Like I said.. I was just a kid.. I was just excited to be able to use my powers. I didn't mean anything by it. I didn't even know he had other children."

"...He never got us ice cream.. he didn't even bother sign my birth certificate.."

"Im sorry, Peter... Professor? Tonights dinner is potatoes gravy turkey with apple sauce. Remys making it so it might be a little spicy."

"Oh, that's alright. He means well. Erm.. thats the blue one right?"

Jean snorts. "No Professor. He's the card one."

"Oooh yes. Reeemmyy... right." He says his name slowly as if trying to connect 'the card one' to 'Remy' in his brain.

"...Bye Peter." She says, now awkwardly leaving.

"Remys that rat from the cooking movie" Pietro whispers and Charles' eyebrows raise. "Ahhh! Remy! That's right."

He might be an x-men. But he could still pull a little evil here and there.

[dissapointu]

what about reader comes home with an entirely different hair colour (for arcane characters) 💛💛

This is such a fun idea! This is how each character would react if the reader came home with a completely new hair color:

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Jinx

Jinx would flip when she sees you walk through the door with a new hair color. She’d be so hyper about it, her eyes wide with excitement as she zooms over to inspect your hair, her mind racing with a thousand chaotic thoughts.

“What is this?! This is amazing!!” Jinx would say, bouncing around you in circles. “You look like a whole new person, and I love it! What do we call this color? I need it for one of my bombs!”

She’d spend the next few hours trying to match your new hair color to all her gadgets, constantly admiring you with a gleeful grin. “I’m jealous! Look at you! This is gonna drive everyone crazy!”

Vi

Vi would blink in surprise when she first sees you, not sure if she’s seeing things. She’d run a hand through her own hair and chuckle, making her way toward you.

“Whoa, that’s… bold. I like it though. You look good, real good,” she’d say, stepping closer to get a better look. “Makes you look even fiercer. But, uh, how’s the new color feel? You feel different?”

Vi would be all about how confident you are in your new look. She might even ask if she can try it out for fun next time, because she’s feeling inspired by your boldness.

Sevika

Sevika would give you a slow, assessing look when you walk in. She wouldn’t be the type to show too much excitement, but there’s a clear flicker of approval in her eyes.

“You always look good,” she’d say, her voice low but full of admiration. “But I’ll admit, that’s a bit unexpected. I like it. Definitely makes a statement.”

Sevika would then casually run a hand through her own hair and add, “Just make sure you don’t draw too much attention. People might get the wrong idea.” But underneath that protective edge, she’d secretly love how you stand out.

Silco

Silco is all about control, so when he sees your new hair, his first instinct is to process the change. He might pause, his gaze scanning you with that sharp, intense focus. After a beat, he’d give you a small, approving nod.

“Bold choice,” he’d say, his tone smooth. “I do enjoy someone who isn’t afraid to stand out.”

He’d approach you, placing a hand on your shoulder, and murmur, “Just make sure it doesn’t draw unnecessary attention. But with you… I trust it’s all part of your plan.” Silco would be fascinated by how much confidence you exude with your new look.

Vander

Vander would blink a couple of times, surprised by the drastic change. But after a few moments, his face would break into a soft smile, his heart swelling with pride.

“You’re always beautiful, no matter the color,” he’d say gently, stepping closer to admire you. “But I’ve gotta admit, this is a change I wasn’t expecting. Looks like you’re embracing your individuality.”

Vander would reach out and brush a strand of your new hair behind your ear, clearly fond of how you embrace your own unique style.

Ekko

Ekko would be caught off guard at first, eyes widening when he sees you walk in with an entirely different hair color. Then he’d break into an awed smile, his usual cool demeanor slipping for a second.

“Whoa, you look like you just stepped out of a dream!” he’d exclaim, stepping closer to you. “Seriously, how’d you pull that off? You look amazing!”

Ekko would spend the next few minutes asking you about the process and maybe even trying to figure out how he could pull off a new look too. “I gotta admit, you look even more like a legend now. How do you keep doing this?”

Jayce

Jayce might not be overly emotional about it at first, but the moment he sees your new hair color, his eyes brighten with admiration.

“That’s… different. But in a good way!” Jayce would say, his voice full of genuine curiosity. “You pull it off really well. Makes you stand out even more. You were already striking, but now?”

He’d take a step closer, maybe even run a hand through your hair, and add, “Definitely suits you. You’re always full of surprises.”

Viktor

Viktor would tilt his head in curiosity when he first sees you, clearly intrigued by the change. He’s used to seeing things in a different light, so this new look would be something that fascinates him.

“An interesting choice, but you wear it well,” Viktor would say, adjusting his glasses. “It suits your personality—bold, unconventional… yet undeniably you.”

Viktor would be a bit shy about touching your hair, but he’d eventually run his fingers through it, intrigued by the softness and the new feel. “I’d love to study how you’re able to make such a striking change with ease. You’ve always been captivating.”

Caitlyn

Caitlyn would smile warmly when she sees you with your new hair color. She would love how bold you are in expressing yourself, and she’d find herself admiring you even more.

“I think it looks perfect on you,” she’d say, reaching out to touch a strand of your hair. “It’s not the color that makes you stunning, it’s your confidence. But this color? It just adds to your already unique beauty.”

Caitlyn would definitely want to show you off to others, completely unafraid of how people might stare. She’d be proud to be with someone so brave and unapologetically themselves.

Mel Medarda

Mel would be intrigued and impressed by your new look. She values elegance and power, and she can immediately see how this new hair color is a reflection of your strength.

“It suits you,” she’d say, her voice cool but sincere. “It’s a striking choice. I must admit, I didn’t expect this from you, but it works.”

Mel would be the type to get up close, fingers gently brushing through your hair as she admires the way it complements your features. “No matter what color it is, you will always stand out. That’s one thing I admire about you.”

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa would take one look at you and nod with approval, clearly impressed by your boldness. She doesn’t show much surprise but is clearly fond of how you’re unafraid to push boundaries.

“You’ve got a way of making any change look like it’s meant to be,” Ambessa would say, crossing her arms and surveying you with a calculated gaze. “I see the power in this choice. It suits you.”

She’d be less overtly affectionate, but she’d definitely respect the confidence you exude with your new look. Ambessa would also see it as another sign of your strength.

Maddie Nolen

Maddie would gasp in delight when she first sees you, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “That’s… it’s so you!” she’d say, grinning as she walks over to you. “It’s like you were made for this color.”

She’d give you a big hug, absolutely thrilled about your bold choice. “Honestly, I couldn’t imagine you with anything else now! You look amazing!”

Maddie would be the type to gush over your hair, constantly asking to touch it and comment on how perfect it looks on you. She’s just so in awe of your confidence and beauty.

Lest

Lest wouldn’t be the type to make a big deal out of it, but she’d immediately notice the change and give you a slow, appreciative nod.

“You’re a woman of mystery, aren’t you?” Lest would smirk, her tone playful. “It suits you. I like how you make everything look effortless.”

She’d get up close, lightly brushing a lock of your hair behind your ear. “No matter what you do, you always manage to catch my attention. You look even more stunning now.”

[mandoriana]

Percival: Merlin, I'm bored. What do you do for fun?

Merlin: I spend time alone. No problems to solve, no talking, no interacting. When I close my door, my peace begins!

Percival: 😅

Elyan: But wouldn't being alone be boring?

Merlin: I won't be alone, I'll have my own company. I'm on a very restrictive diet that consists of avoiding certain human beings.

Elyan *laughing*: Which human beings?

Gwaine: It will break my little heart if my name is on the list.

Merlin: First Uther, then Morgana, Mordred, and sometimes Arthur, but that one is harder since I have to see him every day every five minutes.

Leon: Don't you think that's a bit exaggerated?

Merlin: Nonsense, even you, who are of the same "species" as the other knights, can't stand being with them all the time, and you should be a united group.

The knights look at Leon expectantly.

Leon *looks away*: 🫣

Knights: 🥺

Leon: Okay, I admit that sometimes I just want a minute of peace...

Merlin: See! That's what I'm talking about. The truth is that the Earth is too small for so many humans! God must think every day, "Oh, I miss the dinosaurs, why did I send that meteor!"

Lancelot: Dinosaurs?

Gwaine: Meteor?

Merlin: I say I'd rather be running from a T-Rex right now than dealing with certain people!

Leon: I think he's going crazy again.

Lancelot: I'll call Gaius.

Elyan: I'll call Arthur.

Merlin: God should send some exclusive, custom-made meteors to hit certain people's heads. To avoid mistakes, he could send the meteor with names like "This one is for Mordred, this meteor is for Uther..."

[famoussharkhairdoknight]

NSFW ALPHABET- Pope Heyward

Wearing: +18,smut, English is not my first language

a = aftercare (how they feel after sex):

would definitely be extremely attentive and kind after sex. Constantly ask if it hurts you and check your body. He’s afraid of hurting you because he has a bigger dick than the average.

He is ready to take care of you right after having sex. She cleans you by kissing you tenderly and telling you how good you felt; she always asks if you have cramps of penetration and if you do so she makes you a nice warm compress to put on. He keeps you safe and cuddly, giving you sweet cheeks on your forehead to make you feel safe.

b=favorite body part (favorite part of your body and his):

He loves every part of your body, he loves your smile that can calm him when he is nervous.

He loves your ass very much, is obsessed. He can’t stop slapping and squeezing him... loves to kiss and bite him and the sight of your ass all red from his slaps makes him crazy...

His favorite part of his body is his beautiful muscular physique and he loves when you look at his muscles without shame, he knows well that this thing makes you wet; and above all he is very proud of what he carries between his legs (his friends always tease him saying he has a third leg because it’s bigger)

He loves it when you are impressed every time you see him naked (no matter how many times you have seen him like this) and when he fights to get his dick... he gets crazy.

c = cum (anything to do with sperm):

he sure loves cumming inside you. for him there is nothing better than finishing inside you and seeing his sperm drip out; he would never admit it out loud, but the idea of ​​cumming inside you excited him even more

d = dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, one of their dirty secrets):

It gets even harder when you suck his dick

I= intimacy (what is it like right now? the romantic aspect):

It has two faces, so it will depend a lot on the occasion and his mood. There will be days when it will be harder, but there will also be days when it will be tender and say sweet words and sweet kisses that make your heart beat faster.

k = node (one or more of its nodes):

• Praise Kink: That man loves to receive compliments but also loves to give them; he just loves saying nice things for you and letting you know how good you are doing. He also likes it when you compliment him, when you let him know how good it makes you feel or how great he feels or even how beautiful he is, he drives him crazy.

•Blowjob Kink: he loves it when you suck his cock so well and try to take it all even if he can’t. He loves it when you play with his balls and you stoke around his dick

L-Location (favorite places to do the activity):

At first it seemed shy but actually it’s not: your first time was on the beach.

He loves to fuck you anywhere and he loves to tease you in public

m= motivation (what excites them, keeps them going):

Just seeing you makes him hard

n = no (something he wouldn't do):

certainly nothing that can hurt you; also, he doesn't like sharing you with anyone (no matter who it is) you are his and just thinking about another man touching you would make him very jealous and angry

o-oral (preference in giving or receiving skills, etc.):

Pope is a huge pussy eater and would definitely make you fall apart with those gorgeous lips but he also likes to get a good blowjob, he can't get over the image of your lips wrapped around his cock as you struggle to take it all and sometimes you choke because it's too long and thick for your mouth but you love taking it and he loves it really fuck your mouth.

r =risk (are they willing to experiment? do they take risks? etc.):

The idea of ​​someone catching you excites him especially because he loves to mark his territory on you to make others understand even more that you are his and no one can have you.

s= stamina (how many rounds can they last? how long do they last?):

he could continue all day... he is like a sex machine.

u = unfair (how much he likes to tease):

he is a tease, he would definitely tease you by blushing around him or being extremely wet and needy for him.

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.):

he really loves to be vocal: he will definitely moan and grunt while murmuring dirty things to you and praising how you take his cock

x = x-ray (let's see what happens under those clothes):

his cock is very big and long. And trust me that cock will take away your ability to walk and make you feel very good.

d=desire (how high is their sexual desire?):

he is literally never satisfied. He always wants more from you. He’d be offended if you gave him a blow job while he was studying or when you were on the boat.

He like fuck you with a sensual music

[blood-starved-beast]

Rare Reddit W actually

I saw some people on TikTok and on the main sub talking about how it is "crazy for Cait and Vi to hook up in the jail cell" and how "Vi should be going after her sister" so I wanna make sure we all understand the convo beforehand and why it makes sense that it would lead to sex lmao

We find Vi in this scene metaphorically (and literally, in a jail cell) where she was in act 2 of season 1: alone, feeling like she has lost all her family, and still feeling like she failed her sister, which is where Caitlyn and her first met. Given the wishy-washy terms that were left on during their last scene together, Vi is prepared for Caitlyn to tell her "I told you so", which Vi verbally expresses to Cait. But, Caitlyn does not tell her that, she tells her that she is the one who made it so Vi could free Jinx by moving the guards since she knows Vi well enough that obviously Vi was gonna go to her sister.

Vi reacts to this so passionately for two reasons: One, she is no longer alone. Caitlyn is saying "I'm still on your side" and more importantly "I've moved on, my love for you is stronger than my hate for your sister", which prompts such an enthusiastic response from Vi. Two, Vi is lifted of one of the biggest burdens she has dealt with during the series, which is the unique love triangle between Vi, Jinx, and Caitlyn. Vi no longer feels like she has to choose between them. Jinx verbally tells Vi "you should be with her" and Caitlyn admits to facilitating Jinx's release.

So naturally, Vi stops holding herself back, it's why she doesn't give a fuck when Caitlyn admits to sleeping with Maddie. Vi indulges herself and her desires for the first time in the series, no longer burdened by this internal conflict. Like, no wonder Vi was "feeling fantastic"...

Also, on the topic of "Vi should be going after her sister", the show establishes Vi as someone who does not go after people who leave her. Vi is someone who lives for others, and so she respects their decisions even if they hurt her. She is not someone who goes where she feels she is not wanted. Vi didn't go back to Caitlyn after episode 3 of season 2, she's not gonna go after Jinx either, it's who Vi is.

Text form. Written by Level-Ad7232 on reddit

Ok now I'm a bit more ok with Vi's arc in s2 but still. Would've been nice for more for Vi I think. She really out here with the most subtle arc.

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Once upon a dream

Heyy guys, I hope you enjoy this Charles one-shot inspired by once upon a dream, if you want to read more stories of mine here's my masterlist.

The pale light of dawn filtered through the curtains, soft and ethereal, as if the world itself had been crafted from a dream. You blinked, trying to shake off the clinging remnants of sleep. For the past week, your dreams had been haunted by the same stranger—a man with eyes like shards of emerald and a face that could have been sculpted by angels. Every night, you would get closer, feel the warmth of his presence, see the curve of his lips as he began to speak, only for the dream to shatter and reality to pull you back into its grasp. It was maddening.

Sitting up with a groan, you glanced at the clock. Too early for work, too late to fall back asleep. The weight of another unanswered dream settled over you. It felt ridiculous—obsessing over someone who didn’t even exist. Yet, his image lingered, vivid and undeniable. His gaze followed you into waking hours, his half-spoken words echoed in your thoughts.

With a sigh, you decided coffee might help. If you couldn’t escape the frustration of this dream, at least caffeine could clear your head.

The café was quiet, the kind of tranquil that only existed early in the morning. You ordered your usual, the rich aroma of roasted beans offering a small comfort. The first sip was blissful, warm and grounding, and you let yourself relax, imagining the stranger’s face fading into obscurity. Maybe this obsession was just a phase.

Stepping outside, you inhaled the crisp morning air, adjusting your coat against the chill. The streets were slowly coming to life, people bustling past with their own quiet worlds of thoughts. You took another sip of your coffee, savoring the moment, when a sudden blur of motion caught your attention.

A tiny dog—no more than a handful of fur and energy—was bounding toward you, its tail wagging furiously. It reached you and immediately set about sniffing at your boots, its enthusiasm impossible to resist.

“Well, hello there,” you murmured, crouching down to pet the little creature. It barked softly, nudging your hand as if demanding attention. You smiled, scratching behind its ears.

“I’m so sorry for my dog,” came a voice, low and slightly breathless, from above you.

You froze, the familiarity of the tone sending a shiver down your spine. Slowly, you looked up, your hand still resting on the dog’s soft fur.

It was him.

The man from your dreams stood before you, his green eyes wide with shock, his face as breathtaking as you had seen night after night. The world seemed to tilt for a moment, your breath catching in your throat. He stared back at you, his expression mirroring the disbelief you felt.

“I know you,” he said, his voice soft, filled with wonder. “The gleam in your eyes... it’s so familiar.”

Your heart raced. The moment felt impossibly surreal, like stepping into a waking dream. “Yeah,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Like in a dream.”

His lips parted slightly, as though he wanted to say more, but for a moment, neither of you spoke. The world around you faded, the bustling street, the noise of passing cars, even the dog at your feet—all of it dissolved in the pull of his gaze.

“I’ve been dreaming about you,” he confessed, his voice shaking with emotion. “Every night. For weeks. But you—every time I tried to speak to you, you disappeared.”

Your pulse thundered in your ears. “Me too,” you admitted. “I thought I was going crazy, dreaming about someone who didn’t even exist.”

He let out a soft laugh, one that was more relief than humor. “So did I. But here you are.”

You both stood there, caught in the sheer impossibility of the moment, until the little dog barked, snapping you back to the present. He glanced down, his lips curving into a sheepish smile.

“This troublemaker’s name is Leo,” he said, gesturing to the dog. “I’m Charles.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his awkwardness. “I’m Y/N.”

Daniel nodded, repeating your name as though savoring it. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

There was a pause, the weight of unsaid things lingering between you. It felt as though the universe had bent itself to bring this moment to life, and you were both afraid to break it.

“Do you…” he began, hesitating. “Do you believe in fate?”

You tilted your head, considering his question. “I didn’t,” you said honestly. “Not until now.”

He smiled, his eyes lighting up in a way that made your heart flutter. “Neither did I. But maybe… maybe this was meant to happen.”

Leo barked again, wagging his tail as though encouraging the two of you. Charles laughed, the sound warm and inviting, and you couldn’t help but join him.

“Would you let me buy you a coffee?” he asked, hope flickering in his expression. “So we can… figure this out?”

You glanced at your nearly empty cup, then back at him. “I’d like that.”

As you walked back into the café together, the strange pull between you growing stronger with each step, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning. For the first time in days, you weren’t afraid of waking up. This wasn’t a dream. This was real.

[onlyhereforthestories]

Chica Medica - Part 7 (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

I know this isn't the final in question but I can't find a gif of it. So have this one instead. Plus who wants to see sad Ale anyway 👀 This is the final part. this journey has been crazy and long but I can't thank you all enough. I'm glad this one got finished even if it took me like 2 years! Enjoy!

The atmosphere in the stadium was thick with tension. It was the day of the women’s champions league final, Barcelona vs Lyon. The anticipation had been building for the last few weeks, now it was her and both teams were toeing the line on another historic moment. It was a weight that you could feel even though you weren’t a player.

The teams had already started their warmups, which meant the stadium already had that buzz of energy ringing round it. Fans were filling into the seats, drinks and snacks in hand, chants falling from their lips and filling the arena. In the middle of all that excitement, was the nervous energy surrounding the players, you could sort of feel it coursing through you as you did some final checks on players. A lot of the players had been involved in the 2019 game with the same teams, the day when Lyon crushed Barcelona dreams of champions league glory with that brutal 4-1 win. The memory of that loss still lingered, and it hung over today’s match like a dark cloud.

From your position on the sideline, you could see it in the way the players moved. Some were more focused than usual, pushing themselves harder in the warm-up drills, while others seemed distracted, their minds already on the game to come. Even Alexia, who was usually so composed and steady, seemed a little off.

As warm-ups wrapped up and the team headed back toward the locker room for final preparations, you felt a familiar presence beside you. Alexia had broken off from the group and was making her way toward you, her expression tight but unreadable.

"Can you tape my ankle?" she asked, her voice steady, but you could hear the tension underneath, the underlying nerves that no one else but you and her would know about, even if it was never acknowledged. To the outside world she looked like the normal fearless captain ready to lead her side the best she can and always does.

You nodded and motioned for her to lead the way down the tunnel and past the locker rooms to the medical space. It wasn’t the first time she’d asked you to tape her ankle, it had actually become something of a pre-game ritual for the two of you, but today felt different and was different. The air between you was thick with the weight of the upcoming fixture, and you could sense that there was more to this than just a simple request.

As you gathered the tape and began to wrap her ankle, you kept your movements slow and precise, giving her time to speak if she wanted to. You could feel her eyes on you, her leg resting gently on your knee as you worked.

After a long pause, Alexia finally broke the silence. “I’m nervous.” It was barely said above a whisper as if she was in a room full of people and she didn’t want anyone of them to hear her.

The admission caught you off guard. The Alexia Putellas, mighty captain of Barcelona Femani, worldwide superstar, role model for many little girls around the globe, was nervous and admitting it verbally to you. In the quiet moment before the biggest game of the season, she was opening up and letting her guard down for you.

You glanced up at her, offering a soft smile. "That’s normal. It’s a big game. And it important to you."

She nodded, her eyes focused on the way your hands were delicately wrapping tape round her ankles. "I keep thinking about 2019," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper still. "How we weren’t ready, how they tore us apart. I don’t want that to happen again. I don’t want to let the team down. I don’t want to let the fans down."

You paused for a moment, your hands gently holding her ankle as you looked up at her. The weight of her words hung in the air between you, and you could see the vulnerability in her eyes along with the fear of failure, of history repeating itself.

"You won’t," you said softly, your voice steady. "This isn’t 2019, Ale. You’re not that same player, and this isn’t that same team. You’ve led them through everything this season. Whatever happens out there, they’re ready because of you. They are ready to fight with you."

Alexia exhaled slowly, her shoulders relaxing just slightly as she absorbed your words. You could tell she was still battling the nerves, but something in her posture shifted. It was like a quiet resolve starting to settle in and the confident captain was stepping back in.

"You’ve always been there," she said after a moment, her voice soft. That little glint she gets in her eyes when she’s just scored a goal present. "Since the start of the season, through all the ups and downs. I don’t think I’ve ever told you how much that’s meant to me."

You smiled, finishing the last few wraps of the tape around her ankle. "You don’t have to. I’m always here, no matter what."

The noise of the stadium, the weight of the final, the memories of what happened in 2019 were pushed to the back of both your minds in that second. For this one little moment it was just the two of you, in this quiet shared space.

She reached down, her hand gently brushing yours as you finished securing the tape. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "For everything."

You squeezed her hand gently, offering her the reassurance you knew she needed. "You’ve got this, Ale."

With a final nod, she stood up, testing her ankle and giving it a small flex before looking back at you. The tension in her eyes had eased, replaced with a quiet determination.

As she walked back toward the locker room, you watched her go, your heart swelling with pride. This was Alexia, the player who carried the weight of the team on her shoulders, but in moments like these, she was just a woman who needed support too. and you would happily always be that support.

The stadium lights grew brighter as the time for kick off approached, and you knew that no matter what happened on the pitch tonight, Alexia would give it everything she had. And so would the rest of the team.

You sat in awe as you watched all the pre-match stuff happen around you. Your eyes found it hard to leave the Barcelona captain once she had led the teams out, and as the songs were playing out, you noticed her glance your way. It was barely a second look but she caught the small smile and little thumbs up you gave her and it gave her that boost she needed to get her head focused, or so she thought.

The opening whistle rang through the stadium, but instead of the usual surge of excitement, there was a quiet undercurrent of nerves rippling through the team and the crowd. The air around the stadium thick with anticipation and nerves around what was to come. Lyon, experienced and relentless, were not a team to underestimate. And within ten minutes, they made sure to remind everyone of that.

You watched from the bench, your heart sinking as Alexia was tackled. Henry standing up from the slide with the ball and driving in field, she took a couple of touches before unleashing a strike you knew Alexia herself would have been proud of and you could only watch on as it nestled into the net. 1-0 to Lyon.

The stadium erupted with cheers from the Lyon supporters, but for Barcelona, the shock hit hard. You could see it in the way the players slowed for just a moment, the disbelief written across their faces. A few glanced toward the bench, their expressions filled with frustration and a rising sense of panic. This wasn’t something they were used to.

But none of them showed it more than Alexia. Her eyes were focused, but there was an edge to her movements that you recognized all too well, the tension, the pressure weighing down on her.

As the minutes ticked on, you could feel the anxiety building. Barcelona was chasing the game, trying to press forward, but Lyon was everywhere, cutting off every pass, intercepting every run.

Jenni had a chance or two to put Barcelona level but couldn’t quite do anything with the changes, the keeper of defenders dealing with her presence or shots well.

And then it happened again.

A quick one two down the left-hand side, a looping cross to the back post that Panos couldn’t quite intercept and a well-timed run from Lyons striker meant they doubled their lead. 2-0 Lyon.

You saw the anguish in the players’ faces, the disbelief starting to set in. The memory of 2019 was no longer just lingering in the background, it was happening all over again. The stadium felt heavier, the chants of the Lyon fans growing louder, the Barcelona ones dying out a little, and the Barcelona players seemed to feel the weight of every step they took.

Then, in the 35th minute, Lyon struck again. A mistake at the back gifted a tap-in to one of their players. 3-0 Lyon.

The sound of the ball hitting the back of the net was deafening, but all you could focus on was Alexia. She stood frozen for a moment, her hands resting on her knees as she took in the damage. Her expression was unreadable, but you could see the pain in her eyes, the mounting pressure of the game slipping away. She was fighting against the memories of the past, but they were catching up with her.

From the bench, you felt helpless, watching as Barcelona tried to regain some control, but the first half had been brutal. Lyon was dominating, and the damage seemed almost irreversible. The team’s confidence, which had been so strong coming into the final, was visibly shaken.

Then, just before halftime, Barcelona found a glimmer of hope.

In the 41st minute, a well-timed run from Alexia finally broke through Lyon’s defence. She latched onto a lovely cross from Caro and struck the ball with precision, sending it into the net passed the diving keeper. 3-1.

There was a brief moment of celebration, a flicker of joy in the stands and on the pitch. But it was muted, more relief than anything else. The team knew the damage had been done. As Alexia jogged back to her position with the ball tucked under her arm to hurry the game along, she glanced toward the bench, and for the briefest moment, your eyes met. You saw the anguish behind her focused gaze, the weight of the scoreline still heavy on her shoulders despite the goal.

It was a moment of hope, but it felt small in the shadow of everything that had already happened.

Halftime was tense. The locker room was filled with an oppressive silence, the usual chatter and tactical talk nowhere to be found. Everyone knew what had to be done, but the path ahead felt impossibly steep. You could see it in their faces, the frustration, the doubt.

Alexia sat quietly, her head bowed slightly as she caught her breath. She didn’t say anything, but her presence was commanding. The team took their cues from her, waiting, watching. There were no outbursts, no speeches. Just the weight of the moment settling into every player’s shoulders.

When it was time to head back out for the second half, they rose with quiet determination. No one needed to say anything. They all knew what was at stake, and they knew how difficult it would be to turn things around.

You stood near the tunnel as the team filed out, catching Alexia’s eye as she passed. She didn’t say a word, but there was a flicker of something in her gaze, a steely resolve, a promise to keep fighting, no matter what. Not that you would ever think she could give up.

The second half was a battle, but the damage from the first half was too much. Barcelona fought hard, pressing Lyon, creating chances, but the goals just wouldn’t come. Time ticked away, and with each passing minute, the weight of the scoreline became heavier.

Lyon defended with everything they had, and despite Barcelona’s best efforts, they couldn’t break through again. Alexia pushed herself to the limit, running harder, tackling fiercer, willing the team forward, but it wasn’t enough.

The final whistle echoed in your ears, the high-pitched sound sending your heart into your stomach. Lyon had won, again. Barcelona had fought so hard to get here again, had overcome challenges but had fallen short yet again, and the heart break was evident. The stadium was alive with the cheers of Lyon’s fans, but all you could focus on was the devastation unfolding around you.

Your players, your friends stood frozen, the weight of the loss settling in. Some dropped to their knees, others stared at the ground, their faces etched with disbelief. The pain in the air was unmistakable, and you could feel it in your own chest, a dull ache that mirrored theirs.

Then your eyes fell on Alexia.

She was on her knees in the centre of the pitch, her hands covering her face as she tried to contain the overwhelming flood of emotions. The captain, the leader, the one who carried the weight of this team on her shoulders, was breaking right in front of you.

You could see her shoulders shaking, her body trembling with silent sobs, and it was too much. The sight of her like that, so utterly heartbroken, tore at you. Every instinct in you wanted to go to her, to hold her, to tell her it would be okay. But the truth was, you weren’t sure it would be.

The overwhelming loss was too much for you to bear in that moment. You couldn’t handle watching Alexia break down like this, not after everything that had happened between you, not when your own emotions were threatening to pull you under. You could see her lying on her back sobbing even when your eyes were closed.

So, you turned away.

Without a word, you headed toward the tunnel, your heart racing and your chest tightening with every step you took. You could barely see through the blur of tears forming in your eyes as you hurried into the medical room, seeking the solitude you needed to process what had just happened. You couldn’t stay out there, not with Alexia on the floor, not with the agony of defeat surrounding you.

Once inside the medical room, you leaned against the wall, taking deep, shaky breaths. You tried to block out the sounds of the celebration from Lyon, it was just another punch in your already beat up heart. But it was hard. All you could think about was Alexia, how broken she had looked, how much this loss meant to her, and how helpless you felt to not be able to comfort her.

On the pitch, Alexia wiped her eyes, the tears still flowing as she tried to gather herself. The pain of losing the Champions League final was unbearable, but it wasn’t just that. It was everything combined, the pressure, the expectations, the weight she has carried for so long. And now, the crushing defeat that brought back memories of 2019, a nightmare she thought she’d escaped, had returned and god did it hurt.

But amid the chaos, something was missing. Or rather someone was missing.

Alexia looked up, her eyes scanning the sidelines, searching for you. She needed you now more than ever. You had always been there for her, a steady presence in the chaos. And in this moment, all she wanted was to find you, to feel that connection again. To feel good again.

But you weren’t there.

Her heart clenched, a new wave of panic washing over her. She searched the faces around her again, but she still didn’t see you. The celebrations, the commiserations of her teammates, none of it mattered. She needed to find you.

Without thinking, Alexia got to her feet, her body aching but her mind focused on one thing: you. She moved quickly towards the tunnel, ignoring the flashes of cameras, and the questions from some of the staff still by the bench. None of it mattered now.

When she was inside, her eyes darted around, searching for any sign of you. Then, she caught a glimpse of the medical room door slightly ajar. Her heart pounded in her chest as she made her way toward it, hoping, no praying, that you were there. That she could feel something other than defeat.

You were so in your head that you didn’t hear the soft creak of the door as it opened. You were seated on the edge of one of the treatment tables with your head in your hands, trying not to fully breakdown. You couldn’t face the team right now and you certainly couldn’t face Alexia after everything. You felt like you were betraying her in a way by not being out there, but it was just too much.

The you heard it, her soft voice coming from the doorway.

“Y/N?” it was tentative, nervous a little, but it was unmistakably her.

You lifted your head, your breath catching slightly in your throat when you saw Alexia standing in the doorway. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, her face still etched with the raw emotion of the loss. But there was something else in her gaze, something intense, something you couldn’t quite place.

She stepped inside, closing the door behind her, and for a moment, the two of you just stared at each other. The weight of the game, of everything that had been left unsaid between you, sat poised in the air, heavy and unwavering.

"Why did you leave?" Alexia asked, her voice barely above a whisper. There was no anger in her tone, just a quiet pain and confusion.

"I couldn’t..." you started, but your voice faltered. "I couldn’t watch you like that. It was too much."

Alexia’s eyes softened a fraction, and she took a few steps closer to you. "You think it wasn’t too much for me?" she asked, her voice shaking. You couldn’t tell if it was from the sadness still surrounding the day or the hurt you have now caused her. "You think losing this, after everything... was something I could just handle on my own?"

You looked away, the guilt rising in your chest, making it harder to keep your emotions in check. "I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to help you. I didn’t know if I was allowed to help you."

"I don’t need you to say anything," Alexia said, her voice thick with emotion. "I just need you there. With me. I’ve already lost one important thing tonight. I’m not losing you, too."

Her words hit you like a sucker punch to the gut, the intensity of them taking your breath away momentarily. You looked up at her, your heart beating out of your cheat as the weight of it all settled between you. The loss, the heartbreak, the months and months of tension between you, it all lead to this moment.

You watched as Alexia took a step closer, her hands shaking as she reached out for your own. “I can’t lose you,” she whispered. “Not after everything, I know I’ve pushed you away, I know I’ve made mistakes, but … I want you. No, I need you. I need you with me, and not just because you are a part of this team. As more, with me.”

Her confession hung in the air, raw and vulnerable. You could see the slight fear in her eyes behind the determination, the fear you knew of losing something else, someone else, important.

"I’m here," you whispered, your voice barely audible as you stood up, closing the distance between you. "I’m here, Ale. I want and need you too."

And that was all she needed.

Without another word, Alexia closed the gap between you, her lips crashing into yours in a kiss that was filled with all the emotions she had been holding back for so long. It was desperate, intense, and slightly hurried but it was everything. Everything she hadn’t been able to say, everything she had felt but hadn’t been able to express, was in that kiss.

You kissed her back, your hands sliding up to cup her face, feeling the warmth of her skin still slightly damp from a mix of tears and sweat, and the familiar softness of her lips. The weight of the loss, of the heartbreak, melted away in that moment, and all that remained was the two of you. It was always the two of you.

When you finally pulled back, breathless and wide-eyed, Alexia rested her forehead against yours, her breathing ragged as she whispered, "I’m not losing you."

You smiled softly, your heart swelling with emotion. "You’re not losing me. Not now, not ever."

The kiss lingered between you, as did the warmth of being pressed against the woman you loved, there was a mixture of unspoken emotions still on the tip of your tongues but now wasn’t the moment. The reality of where you were crept back in when the roar of the crowd could be heard outside, the faint celebrations of the Lyon players. As much as you wanted to stay in this quiet, life altering moment with alexia, you knew she would need to return to the pitch.

A soft knock interrupted the peaceful silence.

"Alexia?" It was Leila’s voice, quiet but insistent. "We need to be back on the pitch for the medals."

Alexia exhaled heavily, her forehead still resting against yours, her eyes closed as if she wasn’t ready to face the world outside just yet. But she nodded, knowing there was no escaping this part. You gently placed your hand on her arm, offering a small, supportive smile.

"You need to go," you said softly. "They’re waiting for you."

Alexia pulled back, her eyes still red from earlier, but the strength in them was returning. "Come with me?"

“Always.” You nodded, squeezing her hand before leading her toward the door.

Leila gave you both a knowing look when she saw the two of you walk out together with your hands connected, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she offered a small smile and gestured toward the tunnel.

Once you all made it back onto the pitch, Alexia and Leila went off to join the rest of the team in the line for the silver medals. The atmosphere was heavy around them, the weight of the crushing loss still taking its time to sink in. but behind that upset and sadness you could feel the determination in the air. Even if they were defeated this year, you knew they would go again next year, and as always, together.

As Alexia stood with her teammates lined up with her, waiting for her medals to be placed around her neck, she glanced at you. Standing off to the side but there, ever present you. There was something softer in her gaze now, gone was the torment of the first goal conceded, gone was the full weight of the loss, replacing it was something that you hadn’t seen before.

When the medal ceremony final started and Alexia walked to get hers, she accepted it with a quiet nod, her fingers barely brushing over it before she let it hang loosely around her neck. The team all stood together for the photo they all knew they had to take but all didn’t want to. The photo that would remind them of how close they had come. A bittersweet memory captures in a flash.

Once the photo was done everyone started to part ways. Some going to find their loved ones in the crowd, others taking a few steps away to give themselves a quiet moment. Alexia though had one more thing left to collect before she could join the rest of them.

The Golden Boot.

She had been the top scorer of the tournament, her performances throughout the campaign nothing short of extraordinary. But now, standing with the silver medal hanging loosely around her neck, Alexia looked anything but ready to celebrate her individual achievement. You knew she wouldn’t have cared for it that much even if they had won the whole thing, but it felt cruel to get it without the win.

As her name was called to receive the Golden Boot, she hesitated, her eyes dark with exhaustion and sadness. She glanced at you, standing off to the side, and you could see it. You could see the reluctance, the pain etched into her tear-streaked face. It broke your heart slightly, even though you knew that pain would fade.

You took a step forward, offering her a gentle smile, but you could feel her hesitation, her body still rooted in place. She didn’t want to go. She didn’t want to stand there in front of the cameras, holding a trophy when her heart was shattered by the team’s loss. She didn’t want to accept a single award when her team didn’t get what she thinks they should have together.

But you knew how important this was, even if she couldn’t feel it right now.

So, with that thought you walked up to her, you placed a hand on her arm, your voice soft but full of conviction. "Ale, I know it’s hard to think about right now, but even on the worst day, you achieved the best."

She looked at you, her brow furrowed in confusion, the weight of her emotions pressing down on her.

"You won the Golden Boot," you continued, your eyes never leaving hers. "It might be hard to take in at this moment, but this is a major achievement. You don’t want to forget it. And I certainly don’t want to."

Alexia’s eyes softened, her shoulders relaxing just slightly as she took in your words. There was still pain there, still heartbreak from the loss, but you could see a flicker of recognition. Something in her eyes that showed that she understood that even in the midst of defeat, she had achieved something remarkable. Something that in a month or two she would want to acknowledge and celebrate with her team and loved ones, just not now.

She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as she nodded. "I just... I don’t feel like I deserve it right now. Not after this."

You stepped closer, your voice steady and reassuring. "You deserve it more than anyone. You’ve worked harder than I have seen from any other player, and no one can take that from you, not even Lyon. This is your moment, Ale. Your incredible achievement. Own it."

For a moment, she just stared at you, her eyes searching yours for reassurance. Then, slowly, she nodded again, a soft, appreciative smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She couldn’t appreciate this now, but she knew you were right, and she would later, when the sting of the loss faded.

With a gentle push from you, Alexia stepped forward and made her way towards the podium. The cameras flashed as the Golden Boot was handed to her, and she accepted it with grace, even if her heart wasn’t fully in it.

She held the trophy in her hands, but her eyes were still tinged with sadness, her tear-stained face a reminder of the battle she had just lost. But even as the pain lingered, there was a quiet strength in her, an acknowledgment that this achievement mattered, well would matter just like you said. That it was something to be proud of, no matter how bittersweet the moment.

As she was asked by the photographers to pose with the trophy, her mind ran back to the loss. The sadness in her eyes captured forever for people to see. She caught your gaze, saw the pride and quiet admiration in your eyes and that gave her the strength to square her shoulders and smile slightly.

With a deep breathe she held the Golden Boot in front of her, ignored the flashing of the cameras that were capturing the moment forever. And although the smile on her face was faint, it was there, a small demonstration to everyone that despite the heartbreak of the day, she had achieved something worth smiling for.

When she made her way back to you after the photos, you could see the sadness was still the major emotion clinging to her, but alongside it was gratitude.

“Thank you,” she said softly, her voice thick with emotion. “For being here with me. For reminding me.”

You smiled, reaching up to gently brush a stray tear from her cheek. “Always.”

The flight back to Barcelona was going to be quiet, the exhaustion from the match and the emotions of the night weighing heavily on everyone. The plane hummed softly as the team settled into their seats, some player lost in their own thoughts, some chatting quietly about the match and what they could have done to change it.  

You had planned to sit quietly somewhere near the back, giving the team space to process the loss. But as you made your way down the aisle, Alexia’s hand gently caught yours, stopping you in your tracks.

"Sit with me?" she asked, her voice soft but sure. “Please.”

You hesitated for just a moment, glancing around the plane. The team was scattered in their seats, most of them already focused on their phones or staring out the windows. No one was really paying attention, but this felt... different. Public, in a way that you and Alexia hadn’t been before. Even if it as only the team you both knew and cared for so much.

But Alexia didn’t seem to care. Her eyes were soft, vulnerable in a way you hadn’t seen around the team. She was letting her guard down, and this time, she wasn’t trying to hide it.

With a small smile, you nodded and slid into the seat beside her. As the plane took off, you felt Alexia’s hand slip into yours, her fingers lacing together with yours in a quiet, intimate gesture. She leaned her head against your shoulder, the weight of the day finally catching up with her. You rested your head on top of hers, letting her know you had her.

For a while, you just sat there in comfortable silence, the hum of the plane a soft backdrop to the steady rhythm of her breathing. You could feel the tension slowly melting away as she relaxed into you, her body finally giving in to the exhaustion that had been building all night.

At some point, Alexia’s breathing became deeper, more rhythmic. She had fallen asleep on your shoulder, her head nestled against you in a way that felt so natural, so right. You smiled softly, your heart swelling with affection as you carefully adjusted your position to make sure she was comfortable. Letting her head tuck further into you and away from the prying eyes you knew were to come.

And you were right, the peace didn’t last long.

From across the aisle, you spotted Mapi grinning mischievously, her phone in hand. She was clearly taking a photo of Alexia asleep on your shoulder, her eyes glinting with amusement. You rolled your eyes playfully and stuck your tongue out at her, quickly raising your hand to cover the part of Alexia’s face that was visible.

Mapi chuckled quietly, snapping the photo anyway before mouthing, "Too late!" She gave you a cheeky wink before turning back to her seat, clearly pleased with herself. Ingrid obviously smacking the woman upside her head that just tore more chuckles from the blonde.

You shook your head, but the moment was too sweet to be annoyed. Instead, you glanced down at Alexia, still peacefully asleep, and let the warmth of the moment settle over you. It didn’t matter if the team was starting to notice, Alexia had made it clear that she didn’t care they would notice. She wasn’t hiding this, and neither were you.

The flight continued, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a quiet sense of contentment. The pain of the loss still lingered, but in this small moment, with Alexia resting beside you, it felt like everything was falling into place. Maybe just maybe you could stay as Alexia Chica Medica.

[secretlyobito]

Second skin

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Who knew the fearsome Uchiha Sasuke was........clingy?

Post war Sasuke x reader

Lots of things had changed about Sasuke since the war ended. He had a rinnegan now in his left eye, he was much taller, calmer and....touchy?

It freaked you out the first time it happened because before his defection and the war, you were used to zero physical affection from Sasuke. Sure there was the occasional hand holding or forehead tap but hugging? Caressing? Cuddling? Sasuke was uncomfortable with that, with letting people in that close. It wasn't a big deal to you, you knew your lover and accepted him for who was, quirks and boundaries included.

So it came as a shock to you when he showed up at your doorstep a few days after the war had ended and he had been pardoned for his crimes against Konoha. Sasuke never came to you first, it was always you putting in most of the heavy load in the relationship. You were already poised to ask him if everything was alright when he suddenly pulled you into a hug. What the hell, who's this and what did he do with Sasuke?

It startled you, you almost didn't recognize it was a hug. It was obvious he didn't give many hugs, he was stiff, akward and wasn't even fully touching you. After a few moments of you standing there and blinking in shock, he eventually grunts and shoves you away (lightly) in embarrassment from your lack of reciprocation. His cheeks are red as he huffs and turns around ready to leave. He summoned up all that courage to finally hold you and this is what he gets?

"wait! wait!" you giggle gripping his cloak to prevent him from leaving as he grumbles and tries to hide his flushed face. "Was that a hug??" you howl with laughter as he yanks his cloak out of your grasp and glares at you. "I was just...nevermind" He figures explaining would make everything worse. He was just going to leave and pretend this never happened, and if you tried to bring it up? He would just gaslight you into thinking you were crazy. Yep, sounds like the perfect plan.

You decide you've laughed at him enough, after all he's making an effort. You smile up at him before gently grabbing his hand and tugging him closer. "Thank you Sasuke, that meant a lot to me" You hope your words of praise would encourage him to take more baby steps. "But I didn't even do it right..." He huffs looking away, yet his thumb draws circles on your hand that grabbed his. "Its the thought that counts anyways" you shrug.

Sasuke always loved that aspect of you even though it felt like he was taking advantage of you. You were always so kind and caring and so understanding as a partner, even when he failed to be affectionate like other guys were to their girlfriends. Well no more, all that was going to change starting from today.

Ever since that day, true to his words he was more affectionate. He was basically attached to you by the hip now. He had gotten better at hugs too, they went from stiff and weird to warm and loving. He was also much bolder, these days you would find Sasuke absent mindedly caressing your thigh or sweeping you off your feet(quite literally) when he felt you were walking too slow, his new favourite hobby was lounging with his head in your lap and you playing with his hair. He would never admit that though.

He hadn't quite gotten to the level of cuddles and kisses yet. Whenever you brought it up while suggestively wiggling your eyebrows, he would blush and stutter calling you a little pervert before abruptly walking away to go and fantasize about how it would feel to have your lips on his.

Even though it seemed like Sasuke being clingy and affectionate was something he picked up out of the blue after the war, the truth was that Sasuke had always been an affectionate person by heart. Only his parents and Itachi knew just what a loving and tender boy he was. Much to his delight, Itachi was often the subject of Sasuke's cuddles when they were younger but the sheer gravity of the trauma of what he had been through made him into the damaged and withdrawn person he became before the war. Now he's slowly healing and learning to love again and you couldn't be more glad he chose you to take on that journey with him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Guess who's back from the dead? meee. Jk I've actually been busy with uni applications, your girl's getting ready to move halfway across the world for school, pray for me ya'll 😭😭😭 also if anybody knows any good scholarships for international students aside from the mainstream ones like commonwealth, chevening, mastercard etc, please recommend them to me ☹.

Thank you for reading, hugs and kisses. 😙

[xthedevilscircusx]

He's not going to tell him that this really is meant for family or lovers. Even then, with the few flings he had he NEVER let any of them get their hands on his wings. Only Lilith and Charlie can touch them. So, allowing Alastor to do this is a big gesture of trust.

"They're a little messy I must admit. It takes a hell of a time to preen them." He's about due for that, but he can do it when they get back home. For now this is nice. Alastor is being mindful not to go crazy with them. When that first stroke of fingers touches him, he responds with a big shiver. "Ah--sorry bit sensitive. Been awhile since I felt anyone on them." His wings are warm, and crackling with energy. If Alastor stroked them further, he'd get a bit of oil on his fingertips which would smell like a light musk.

"Oh yeah, if I kept them out all the time people would keep trying to touch them!" Sometimes people think he's just some cute little clown king that they can pinch his rosy cheeks, but that's not the case.

One wing pushed up against Alastor's palm. "I keep them out at the palace for the most part, but while at the hotel or anywhere else I'd put them away." Lucifer's voice rumbled softly, closing his eyes. "Alastor..." He began in thought, "...I uh.....you know we don't have to makeout if you don't want to. That was...it was something I threw in there and last thing I would want is to make you feel like you have to do something that intimate. Okay?"

He can't help thinking about that kiss but...something about it just being part of the deal felt wrong to him.

With the pat, Alastor let his shirt down, it partially covering the tail though not quite all the way. He turned around to face the king.

He'd never really thought about what Lucifer looked like before the fall. It made sense that he'd have different features and such but to Alastor he'd always just thought of him looking the way he does. He silently wondered if Lucifer ever thought about what he looked like when he was a human. Maybe he already knew. He didn't really know the extent of Lucifer's magic.

Alastor's eyes widened, surprised he was going to allow him to touch one of his wings. He carefully put one hand behind the wing and the other in front of it, gently stroking the feathers.

"They really are fluffy," he commented quietly, his eyes focused on the wing he was petting. They were soft, too, and so much more angelic than he had originally thought.

"Is it easier not to have them out all the time?" he asked curiously, wondering if that was why he usually didn't have them present.

[wu-sisyphus-gang]

Weiss: Isn't it crazy how girls get shit on for having daddy issues when it's really telling about men so many girls have bad relationships and trauma because of their fathers. Like some cultural sick joke?

Jaune:

Weiss:

Jaune: I have nothing to say to that. I hope if I have daughters I have a good relationship with them. I'll be the first to admit I don't know shit about parenting. I bet it's hard as fuck.

Weiss: Yeah but my parents had to know that before hand.

Jaune:

Weiss:

Jaune: I'm sorry this happened to you.

Weiss: It'll be okay.

[vigilskept]

gnashing my teeth thinking about how veilguard talks about the gods only as a joke when they could've gone somewhere truly crazy.... you're so right.

Yeah... you get it. It's just such a missed opportunity!

I don't even mind the jokey tone they use a lot of the time, because we all joke about things we struggle to understand/cope with.

Except Veilguard refuses to let you even try to broach the subject beyond that surface level. In fact, when it does let you engage with it at all, it manages to make things even less nuanced!

I'm just going to talk about Bellara's quest here since it's the most directly linked with the elven gods, and it's already a lot. Fundamentally, her companion quest is asking us two things:

Should elves be blamed for the actions of the Evanuris?

Should they preserve any of their past at all?

The first one is absurd to even begin with. It's not even a good or interesting take on the (very christian!) question: "Are we responsible for the sins of our ancestors?"

The Evanuris are not the ancestors of modern elves. Dalish religion implies that modern elves descend from those who the rebels never freed from slavery to the Evanuris.

This setup is already awful without looking at any of the parallels Bioware has (intentionally) drawn between the elves of Thedas and Jewish/Indigenous people. I have to put the rest of this under the cut because I genuinely don't think it can be shortened without making it sound flippant. In the context of the coding of the elves, the theological/social implications of all of this are so much worse.

TLDR: the indigenous/jewish coding of the elves makes bioware's treatment of elven religion in veilguard thoughtless at best, cruel at worst. they did not have to write themselves into this corner. there was a way of handling this lore reveal without the implication of elven religion (again, jewish/indigenous coded) being obsolete

So, the religion of the Dalish was part of their enslavement. It's the belief they were forced into by the cruel gods they are still devoted to. That's already pretty bad. How could it get worse, you might wonder?

Whether Bioware deviated from their initial inspirations for the elves or not, the implications for these lore reveals in light of those parallels are particularly cruel. Those two core questions in Bellara's quest? Yeah. Those have both been levied against the oppressed groups that Bioware chose to draw inspiration from. Both historically and presently. To justify atrocities against them.

And to be clear, Bioware does not deviate from or subvert the usual indigeous and jewish-coding of the elves in their writing here. If anything, they end up actively endorsing a very significant element of antisemitic and anti-indigenous sentiment.

Indigenous-Coding

Advocates of colonisation have always justified it by arguing they were 'saving' groups of people who were stuck in the past. They had been ‘left in the dark’ through ignorance of Christianity. In the more secular sense, this was framed as Europeans having journeyed through history to reach enlightenment, while the rest of the world was still in an ‘uncivilized’ state.

Christianity and progress had to be brought to these people to save their souls and bring them into the future with everyone else. Their Gods? There were only two possible ways to frame those. Either they were not real at all, or they were evil. Either way, they were obsolete.

In the Americas, these arguments were still used when corralling indigenous children into residential schools or tearing them from communities through the adoption system. Governments pushed the idea that they had to be forced to assimilate because they were 'backward' in their practices and beliefs.

In the settler-colonial state Canada, where Bioware is based, it's still common enough to hear people justify all of this as having been done "for their own good." Even those who admit that the ways colonization was perpetuated were cruel will still try to defend it by telling you, "it was bad, but their ancestors weren't saints either."

Sounding painfully familiar yet? A little uncomfortable in the context of Bellara's questline?

Jewish-Coding

Since the dawn of Christian Church, Jewish people have had a very fraught place in Christian theology. Christianity claims that that the coming of the messiah in the person of Jesus Christ makes the religion of Judaism obsolete. Christians believed the obvious answer to this problem was that Jewish people should convert.

When many did not, they were labeled as ignorant, obstinate, stuck in the past. They were so focused on their history that they couldn't see the truth which had been revealed in the present. There’s a significant legacy of this idea in Christian artwork with depictions of Synagoga blindfolded next to the clear eyed Ecclesia. You still hear echoes of this sentiment in antisemitic language today.

As for the nature of the Jewish God... there is some deviation here. For some Christians, He is God the Father, and He is good. For others — and this idea has been around from early Christianity till now — He is the Creator of the material world, but He is evil.

There are innumerable variations of Christian gnosticism that probably wouldn't be productive to get into on a Dragon Age Blog. What I need to underline here though, is that the idea of the Old Testament God as the devil/the demiurge/fundamentally evil, has been used to justify atrocity towards Jewish people for over a thousand years.

Should elves be blamed then? For the sundering of the Titans? For the Veil? For the Blight? For the evils of this world, created by their Gods?

Implications for Veilguard

Not only is religion in Dragon Age: The Veilguard often devoid of nuance or ignored outright, when the game does engage with it at all, it does so in a way that quite literally draws on these incredibly harmful antisemitic and anti-indigenous sentiments that have been (and still are) used to perpetuate real harm.

To be clear, I don't think the writing here intends to endorse the idea that elves should be blamed for any of what's going on. Bellara's anxieties are being projected onto her people as a whole while she grapples with what this all means for her, I get that. In fact, you could be generous and read some of this as a critique of this particular kind of anti-indigenous/jewish bigotry.

However, I don't think that absolves the writers of any of the implications they've created by confirming that the elven pantheon did exist and was canonically evil.

Elements of Dalish/elven culture might be preserved after all this, but the conclusion the game railroads you into is that their religion is obsolete. Just like Judaism. Just like the many Indigenous religions around the world. Except in Dragon Age: The Veilguard, it’s no longer just the bigotry of outsiders claiming that to be the case. It’s now the objective truth of the setting.

Going forward, the elves of Thedas can keep their culture, but they can’t practice their religion. If they continued to practice, they would be framed the way the Venatori are: evil and stuck in the past. This really can’t be overstated: this is the exact rhetoric that has justified centuries of violence and oppression of Jewish and Indigenous people. This rhetoric is still around and still weaponized.

It’s so cruel to create an in world ‘lineage’ that draws so heavily from their cultures and histories, then validate the rhetoric that has been used to hurt them. At best, it’s thoughtless. But as a company based in a settler-colonial state, this is something they should’ve put thought into, given that they chose to code their elves and Jewish and Indigenous. That was their responsibility, actually.

What gets me about all this is that they actually didn't need to force that conclusion at all. They could have kept the Evanuris as cruel tyrants without demonising the Creators and their worship at the same time.

The Evanuris weren't always Gods. They weren't even always rulers.

In Trespasser, when asked how they became Gods, Solas tells Lavellan that they did so slowly. That it started with a war. That fear bred a desire for simplicity. For right and wrong. For chains of command. That generals became respected elders, then kings, and finally gods.

Veilguard confirms all of this. The addition it makes is that before all this, the first elves were spirits who made their bodies out of the Titans. This all occurred over the course of thousands of years.

None of this needs to be retconned in order to allow for a respectful yet nuanced portrayal of religion!

TLDR pt2: bioware, u could’ve avoided literally ALL of this by making the evanuris part of a priestly class who seized power after the war with the titans. it wouldn’t even have undermined ur lore! u could’ve kept dalish religion alive! u could’ve implied complex political dynamics for your ancient elves without even having to write it! why didn’t you even try?

Trying to Fix This Mess

Say the elves took their bodies from the Titans and settled the lands of Thedas. Say the Titans even allowed this for a time. The dwarves were made from their own bodies after all.

Yet the elves didn't have the same connection with the Titans as the dwarves did. They had no stone-sense, so they couldn't understand the Titans' song.

Generations down the line, some of them took too much from the Titans. More than they were willing to give. That was when the Titans lashed out, making the earth tremble so that all the elves had built crumbled beneath them.

And what if the firstborn among the elves had taken up priesthood to guide the younger ones. They were closer to spirits than the elves that were born into this world, and so the younger ones looked to them for guidance. Maybe they were the ones who were trusted to reach out to the more powerful of the spirits who chosen stay in the Fade, their old kin who preferred to keep their distance from the physical world to preserve the essence of what they were. The spirits of Justice, of Benevolence, of Craft. Those who the elven people paid homage to, and trusted to preserve them in turn.

So when everything seemed to fall apart, the elves turned to their Keepers, their priests, and asked of them what they ought to do. How could they make the earth stop shaking? What would they have to do to be at peace again?

Whatever the spirits themselves may have responded, many of the Keepers (among them the Evanuris) took up arms and chose war. They saw it could be won so they fought, sundering Titans from their dreams and stilling the land.

And yet there was no peace.

Some Keepers sought to hold on to their power as generals, and wanted to wage war on new shores to keep it. Some Keepers thought they had already gone too far, claiming they had acted without the guidance of the spirits who hadn't wanted war.

These Keepers could've caused chaos and endless bloodshed, so the Evanuris formed their alliance to suppress the others. Likely, they thought they were doing so for the benefit of all the elven people. More war meant more death, and it was needless now that the land was still. And even if what they did to the Titans was wrong, it was done and they could not fix it. Better to silence those who meant to stir up fear among the people.

The Evanuris fought until they were the last faction left, naming the few holdouts the Forgotten Ones. They were praised for bringing peace to Elvhenan, and trusting in their guidance their people crowned them as rulers.

Yet some dissent always remained. None of them were infallible. They were no longer spirits, they hadn't been for thousands of years. They were now more accustomed to command than to priesthood after all that war. They had drawn on the power they had stolen from the Titans to gain the advantage over their enemies, and the corruption of the Blight was starting creep in, ever-so-slowly.

Maybe some of the people, unhappy with their rule, started to voice the thought that was expressed by their rival Keepers once more: that the Evanuris had grown distant from the spirits. That Elgar'nan didn't serve Justice anymore. That Mythal had strayed from Benevolence.

So Evanuris took the mantle of godhood for themselves. It was only for peace and stability.

It would be too dangerous if anyone could claim they were deviating from the will of the spirits, so they would claim they were those great spirits. Elgar'nan was Justice, Mythal was Benevolence. They would use their rule only for the benefit of the people, not abuse their power.

And there you go. None of what I've written above can't be neatly incorporated into the existing lore of Veilguard. It leaves the elves of Thedas precisely where they started in Dragon Age: Origins. Distant from their ancient Gods, trying to pick up the pieces of their forgotten past.

[cree-n-jewish-thoughts]

I just want to show you all something.

This is crazy! Look how it is worded. The UN gave Palestine and only Palestine its own branch (UNRAW). People that worked for the UN were heavily involved in the massacre of Oct 7th. The UN has continuously backed Palestine over Israel, they admit to giving money to terrorist organizations, they have never once stood up for Israel and they deny the indigenousness of Jews to the land of Israel and do not allow any other country to transfer refugee status to loved ones.

This is the propaganda we are talking about. This, hamas is a terrorist group who forcefully took control of Palestine after a bloody and brutal civil war, that ended with hamas in office. This was in 2006-2007. Before Hamas they had an ability to vote, since that was kinda why the uprising happened... Palestine has not had a vote since hamas has been in office. There has been more violence, more cruelty to the citizens.

Also their blog is "Palestine News 786", this is how people get sucked into bias. This is a legitimate claim from the people of Palestine. Palestine has state media which means that the government controls the media outlets. So everything that comes out of articles directly from the country are heavily biased, staged, even just flat out lies.

If you play the victim people will think you are a victim and stand up for you. But you would stab them in the back at the first chance you'd get.

People think this is legitimately a news source and that's horrifying...

The internet has ruined education when it was supposed to make it easier to educate ourselves. With the overload of information on a single topic people tend to go with one of the first few links (which their spot is placed there because they pay google). Wikipedia is the worst resource and I don't understand why it even exists other than to be able to manipulate and confuse others.

How about the terrorists stop carrying out acts of violence against countries like Syria, Lebanon, Israel, Palestine.

Think about where you get your information before you take it seriously...

[minnlahzz]

amethio, silver x hex maniac reader.

requested

amethio and silver! oreo and jalapeño duo (this is separated.) sorry for the big wait, school is biting my toes. uhh silvers is very short, because I feel like ive mentioned most of the things silver would do in other fics. I don't wanna seem repetitive or uncreative!

— AMETHIO

amethio would initially be unsure what to make of you. your eerie aura and cryptic way of speaking would intrigue him, but he’d be cautious. he’s logical, so he’d view what you do as something he needs to understand rather than dismiss, because every person is different why judge them. he’d probably think, "are they like this all the time?" when you casually mention something spooky like the “ghosts watching over” him.

amethio’s edgy demeanor and your crazy words would balance each other out. he’d act as the grounded counterpart to your whimsical nature, often giving you a deadpan look when you go off on a supernatural tangent.

“amethio, the spirit (random gengar) says this battle will be tough.”

“the spirit is stating the obvious.”

your comments often catch him off guard, not because he gets scared of it. it's just becuse you just say it so randomly it's kind of concerning, leading to some amusing exchanges.

“The ghosts approve of you, amethio.”

“good to know. now, tell them to get out out of my way.”

your unpredictability often throws him off balance. whether it’s your cryptic compliments (“the spirits find you quite handsome today”) or your sudden affection, he finds himself flustered more often than he’d like to admit.

your spooky vibe complements his calm and calculated style perfectly. he’d use your unnerving presence to throw off opponents while he plans a precise attack. he might even ask you for “spiritual advice” during critical missions, though you’re never quite sure if he’s joking or went insane.

he isn't really phased from ghosts, neither is his pokemon. ceruledge is one of the few pokémon that isn’t fazed by your team. it often stands protectively between amethio and your more mischievous Pokémon like (for example) misdreavus, who enjoys pranking people by floating off with their belongings. ceruledge gets really paranoid and assumes all your ghosts are evil at first.

amethio never disregards your interests, and tries his best help you enjoy them, even if he's not a fan of it himself.

— SILVER

silver is honestly pretty game with whatever crazy stuff you do, he didn't stop loving you after you did questionable things in order to see ghosts (he'd be apart of it anyway.)

first time meeting you silver already felt discomfort/concern. (not negative) he’d wonder if you had some hidden agenda, but over time, he’d notice how kind and sincere you are, even with your random outbursts, which would ease his initial distrust.

silver reluctantly tags along when you explore spooky ruins or abandoned buildings to “connect with spirits.” he’d grumble about how impractical it is, but goes anyway. (his honchkrow becomes your flashlight during these adventures.)

your spooky jokes and ghostly references catch him off guard, but he grows to enjoy your sense of humor. he won’t laugh out loud, but the corner of his mouth quirks up when you say something particularly clever. silver might even use them too, but to an extent. gold never understand the jokes...

when travelling on a mission sent by professor oak by the dex holders (gold, and crys mostly) he makes sure to find and pick up eerie trinkets and paranormal items to give to you on his return. he'd just silently sneak them in his pocket without the other two knowing, sometimes what he does though leads to a bigger problem.

"hey silver what are you doing! this place is completely abandoned don't touch that!" crys silently yelled (if you get it) in the corner.

silver unresponsive, shrugs and picks it up... suddenly a locked door opens "WHAT DID YOU DO?" gold yelled from the other room, echoing through the entire building.

"silver you pay for my life insurance."

"it's just another room, there might be something important we could give to professor oak there. you guys are just overreacting."

"GHOST!"

silver knows alot of paranormal information because of you, and it definitely saved the 3 idiots lifes maybe twice. lesson learned: don't go to abandoned haunted building, (unless you're a hex maniac the ghosts are pretty cool with you.)

it's not just him that gives the other trinkets, it's also vice-versa! you gift silver supposedly "haunted" charms, he's skeptical but carries it around anyway. when he wins a tough match, you proudly point at the many trinkets you gave him.

"the spirits were with you, horray!" you say celebrating.

"or maybe it was my training, but you know that works too."

silver has a beef with your pokemon, doesn't matter which he hates them and they hate him. (don't worry though) your pokemon like taunting him and whenever he complains, you brush it off as them bonding together.

“tell your pokémon to stop stealing my items,” he says, holding up a poké ball with a stone faced expression.

“it’s just trying to bond with you!” you reply.

“...bond less.”

[i-didnt-do-1t]

cw. mentioned death.

It wasn’t the first time her and Jack had fought, she wasn’t sure if she could include the argument on the rooftop, but they’d had their fair share of petty fights since.

This didn’t feel petty though, it felt far too real, and charged and she didn’t get angry like this often but he was making her sound like she was crazy.

“I still don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“You do, I know you do.” She paused, waiting for him to respond or turn to face her, watching the way the muscles on his back worked as he reached up to paint the top left corner of a new back drop for Medda. “Jack would you look at me-“

“I’m paintin’, Kathy.”

“We’re having a conversation.”

“I can multi-task.”

She tensed her jaw, could feel a quiet aching creeping up her throat and tried to swallow it down but it didn’t help.

“You’re being rude.”

“Kathy.” It was spat and overtly unapologetic, his back still turned to her though she could see the white knuckle grip he had on his paintbrush. “Sorry that I weren’t taught etiquette like the guys you grew up around, but could just let me work? And stop asking about stuff I ain’t wanna talk about?”

“I’m not trying to be invasive. There’s no need to be so horrible.”

When he didn’t turn around, and didn’t answer, she tightened her arms around herself, folded over her chest.

“Fine.”

The slight heels of her shoes echoed around the auditorium as she stormed out, maybe Jack looked at her then, felt sick the way she did whenever they argued and it was real and serious, but she didn’t turn around to check.

She slammed the door behind her.

…

She didn’t mean to end up at the distribution gate, the path was familiar these days and she frequently walked the cobblestoned streets to meet Jack when he collected the evening edition but it was nearer night now, the sky dark and drizzling with rain and if she was cold she wouldn’t admit it.

There were still two figures, just inside the gate, loading excess piles of papers into a cart, and one of them brushing up the courtyard in a way that felt pointless considering it was late autumn. The one at the cart threw his head back in what looked like a laugh and Katherine almost felt bad interrupting but curiosity and anger had brewed into a concoction of stubbornness in the pit of her stomach.

“Excuse me?” The gate creaked open under her touch. “Mr delancey?”

It had been months since she last talked to them, had no reason to run into them aside from the strike, but she’d seen them around her father’s office, always together, always scowling.

They both stopped to look at her, as she stepped into the yard, aware of the mud staining the hem of her dress and the way it splattered across her shoes.

“Pulitzer?” It was Oscar, she was fairly certain, though she couldn’t say for sure. Tall, and messy brown curly hair and dark eyes as glared at her. “The hell do you want. Kelly ain’t here.”

“I know he’s not.” She hesitated, observed the way the two of them shared a look. “I wanted to ask you something.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

She swallowed.

“I- the last time I spoke to you, in my father’s office, you mentioned that Jack had a brother.” Oscar’s expression shifted. “Was his name Michael, by any chance?”

The silence, aside from the city settling down for the evening, seemed to stretch, only to be interrupted by Oscar barking out a laugh.

“Yeah. Yeah, the kid was called Michael. Why do you wanna know. Kelly ain’t told you?” His voice was amused.

If she wasn’t so frustrated, she knew she wouldn’t reveal something so personal, and she wasn’t doing it to be mean, she reassured herself, she just had to know. How on earth was she meant to help Jack if she didn’t know.

Still, It wasn’t all that comforting a thought, especially not as Oscar looked at her, leaning back casually against the cart he’d just been loading, a gleam of something cruel in his eyes.

Or maybe it was just the street lamp.

“Jack’s been saying it in his sleep.” She said, instead of acknowledging it. “And waking up crying, night terrors, I assume.”

“Yeah. He used to get those.”

“So. Why. Over what. I know- I know the refuge was bad but I don’t quite understand-“

“Michael’s dead.”

The stubbornness in her stomach turned to lead. “What?”

“Michael. Kelly’s brother.” He spoke slowly, like she was stupid, shoving a hand in his pocket and pulling out a box of cigarettes as he did so, “he died, and cowboy pretty much killed him.”

“No. No, Jack wouldn’t-“

“You want a smoke?”

Her hands were shaking, she was freezing. The box was being held out to her and she acted on instinct, reaching for one. His fingers were freezing and ink stained where hers brushed his, short bitten fingernails lined with dirt and grit.

“Jack wouldn’t.” She repeated.

“Maybe not on purpose.” He fished a match from a different pocket. “But he loaded him on the back of the carriage, tryna escape the refuge y’know. Like a fuckin’ idiot. And the kid fell off. Cracked his head open and then got run over by the back wheel.”

He said it casually as he lit the end of his cigarette. Like it was nothing.

.

“What.”

Her voice was a croak.

Oscar inhaled smoke and scoffed at her.

“Cowboy got out and Michael didn’t. Could see it from the window.”

“Oh. my god.”

“S’ probably reachin’ that time a year. It was near christmas, I think. Right mo?”

“Yeah. Yeah. cause Snyder gave folk turkey at dinner a couple weeks later.”

“Oh yeah. Course. It was shit.”

The cold air was biting. Katherine could feel it down to her bones.

“I- wait. So Jack-“

“Yeah. Fuckin’ stupid. Kelly can have a go at me all he fuckin’ wants. But at least I kept my wee brother alive.”

“But-“

“You can tell when you know, you see how he acts with the tiny Jacobs? It’s like he forgets sometimes, that he ain’t his.”

That backs of her eyes burned, the aching from the back of her throat creeping up the base of her skull and she had to press a palm over her mouth, gaze blurring with tears.

“Are you cryin’, Pulitzer?”

She was sure she was going to throw up.

“Christ. It was ages ago. Cryin’ ain’t gonna do shit. But it’s probably why he’s havin’ nightmares.”

He exhaled smoke as he spoke, and the smell of it turned Katherine’s stomach.

She pictured Jack again, alone in the theatre, covered in paint and the way she knew he roughly wiped away angry tears with the back of his hand.

The empty look in his eyes when he’d wake up from one of those dreams, pushing away the hand that was carding through his hair, breathing heavy and ignoring her and pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes.

“You gonna smoke that or jus’ hold it.”

She let her hand fall, wordlessly handed back the cigarette. Oscar hesitated.

Held her gaze.

“I dunno actually.” He paused, gave her a once over. “Maybe you should smoke it.”

Beside him Morris nodded, exhaling a lung full of smoke into the cold air.

“It helps.”

[such-a-downer]

And thus, they had fireworks.

Though many have thought that the barbecue party has officially closed, the latest chapter threw in an extra punch. But not in a way that leaves a good taste (to me at least).

Just joking, it's not as long as I wanted it to be. My productivity is very crippled rn.

Indigestion

Sakura is thanked by Umemiya once more for the help but we immediately see him wear wrinkles on his face. He feels as though he still have conflicting feelings about it. In his thoughts, he sways the spotlight towards Roppo Ichiza and Shishitoren for being the ones doing the grind. But it doesn't change the fact that it was him who asked for help in the first place. Even Umemiya himself admits his shortcoming on this.

A Gap That He's Missing

Aside from his indigestion of other people's gratitude (it's practically his chronic bug), Sakura broods over being called "amazing" by Umemiya. To him, it doesn't sit right. Afterall, Umemiya pulled off what he couldn't.

It would probably help Sakura to come into terms with it once he understands what he's missing on: the difference between Umemiya's fight with Takiishi and his fight with Endo.

Umemiya's "I'm winning this"

Sakura who has shut himself away from other people most of his life, wonders if he can be like Umemiya. The obvious answer is no. At least, not so early on. He witnessed the power of Umemiya's resolve. But it seems as though he is yet to understand the tough process for that resolve to be so strong.

Umemiya's resolve is very deep-rooted and has been richly cultivated through the years, a whole experience that is still long ways to go for Sakura.

And this is Umemiya against Takiishi here. These two got history. With no clear winner, the ordeal was dragged on and on until Takiishi's departure. Their fight is simply them picking up where they left off– a settlement. Well, Takiishi's plainly just fixated on fighting Umemiya, savoring the moment. To Umemiya, he just needs to win against Takiishi. It's pretty much simple and straighforward, it is indeed "selfish". By that, I mean the fight just centers around them.

Furthermore, unlike us readers, Sakura doesn't know what's going on Umemiya's head. He sees the sudden exchange between Umemiya and Takiishi but does not fully understand the sentiments behind their words.

Sakura does not know this eureka moment of Umemiya. Perhaps if it's known to him, he wouldn't be so down and glum for not going for the win during his fight with Endo. It would have given him better understanding of the difference between his actions and Umemiya's.

Sakura's "I don't have to win"

On the other hand, Sakura's fight with Endo is quite a mess. Their battle goes beyond just winning against the other. To Sakura, it's a "now or never" gamble but to Endo, it's a matter of mind games. Endo is so good with his words, a manipulative opponent who was so close to breaking Sakura. Had Hiiragi and others did not get to the scene on time, who knows what would have become of Sakura.

Sakura clearly sees Endo as undeniably, the stronger fighter. This causes Sakura to fight with the determination to "drag Endo down with him", to stop Endo from dealing any more damage to Furin.

In spite of Endo's overwhelming strength, Sakura was able to best him out. And that, has something to do with Endo's internal realization.

If Endo was a typical bad guy, he would have ended Sakura long ago, no hesitation. But he is a crazy nut in extremes. He wants Sakura to cross over to his side and for that, Endo was ready to break Sakura. Undoubtedly, he is very capable of that.

Endo wants Sakura (I'm not pertaining to yaoi tones). But he knows can never bend Sakura to his will. Yet he longs for the euphoric sensation that Sakura gives him (again, NOT pertaining to yaoi tones wtf). Endo wants it very much that he let himself be taken down before he knew it.

But since Sakura is oblivious of the effect he has on others, he is still confused after asking Endo about it. Winning is not always based on physical strength. Sakura is yet to fully grasp the idea.

Keeping Him Well-Grounded

With Kaji's help, Sakura was able to get past through his doubts and fear of rejection. In turn, his classmates slapped him with the fact that he is accepted and cherished despite the flaws. Furin has become Sakura's place where he can belong to. As someone who has always been shunned, it is only a natural instinct for Sakura to do what he can just to protect it. Even if it means risking by putting himself on the line.

Sakura is indeed impressive for his growth in such a short time. But at the same time, worrying, as Hiragi said. Someone in the wbk server that Sakura might turn aggressive because of his want to protect his friends and possibly get worse injury. I agree and can see the high chances of it happening. I also have a bad premonition that Sakura's about to fall into a bad relapse in the future, and temporarily put up his pre-Furin persona again.

Right now, it's important for Sakura to realize what his recklessness is doing to him. He needs to understand that self-sacrifice does not guarantee a fix-all solution. He needs to realize how much his presence means to his friends in order to keep himself grounded and not act recklessly.

With firm grounding, Sakura can grow strong, even surpass Umemiya if he wishes so and face whatever comes his way without being blown away.

That's all. Thanks for coming to my Tedtalk.

Sending TLC to Sakura 💕