#i got sick in europe too

[ashercries23]

yeah so remember when i said i’d be writing…well ya boy got SICKKKK!!! just a nasty sinus infection, and i’m already feeling a bit better, so i’ll get right on it. those one shots coming soon 🫶

[mchiti]

I've seen a tweet of ariana grande's brother becoming an italian citizen. And all I could think of is that I applied for citizenship when I turned 18 and finally got it two years ago at the age of almost 23. 5 years of paying fees, of going to Morocco three times bc we were missing documents, of having appointments postponed endlessly, of being treated like shit by authorities. And I was born here and I speak italian and we payes taxes here. but hey if you have italian grandparents and great-grandparents and you are a white american it's all good.

[1onehuman]

<3

Just a Little Guy…

@1onehuman‘s griffin commission collection, these will forever be one of my favorites to work on.

[scuderiahalf]

wild child — daniel ricciardo

pairing. platonic!daniel ricciardo x verstappen!f1a driver!fem!reader

summary. your uncle has another thing coming if he thinks you’ll idly sit there and take whatever he throws at you. alternatively, the story of how jos verstappen got his shit rocked by a sixteen-year-old girl. 1.6k

warnings. description of injury, referenced physical violence, themes of domestic and child abuse, mention of jos verstappen

masterlist.

.

Daniel watched with a wary smile as you joked around with your Prema teammates across the way. Dino said something that had Ollie covering your ears while jokingly scolding the other boy. You elbowed Ollie in the side and pointed at Kimi, probably complaining that you were less than a year younger than the Italian.

You were acting completely normal. Everything seemed fine and normal and totally cool. You gave no hint that anything was out of the ordinary, that anything was wrong. You smiled just as you always did.

But Daniel couldn’t ignore the swelling of your cheek, the bruise under your eye, the split of your lip.

Prema’s statement about the state of your face had said that you had gotten into a physical altercation that you had not instigated and that the perpetrator had been dealt with as necessary. Daniel had a really bad feeling about who said perpetrator was.

The VCARB driver wet his lips. He had to say something. He would never forgive himself if he didn’t. You needed to know you had people you could go to. You needed to hear it spoken plainly. He needed to extend a hand, whether or not you took it.

This wasn’t something he could sit in regret with. Daniel already regretted never saying anything to Max, never asking the important questions back when Max had still been skinny and ruddy-faced.

Daniel still didn’t know the full story there. He’s sure if he did, he should never be allowed in a room with Jos Verstappen ever again.

Daniel hated to see history repeating itself. He hated seeing Jos look at you like he looked at Max, like you were some prized race horse purpose-bred to win. Like you could win the Formula One World Drivers’ Championship and it still wouldn’t be enough.

Daniel didn’t know everything about Max and his father but he knew how Max acted, knew how he thought of himself, knew how his childhood still affected him today.

Daniel didn’t want that for you. If he could help you in any way, he had to try.

He caught you in Red Bull hospitality later in the weekend, when you were separated from the other Prema kids and eating lunch while scrolling on your phone.

“Y/N/N!” he greeted you with false enthusiasm. “Can I sit with you?”

You just smiled amusedly. “Knock yourself out, Ric.”

You and Daniel had always gotten on.

Before you got serious about racing and moved to Holland to live with your uncle, Daniel had only heard mention of you as Max’s favorite cousin. Starting two years ago, you had been making more and more appearances in the paddock as your relocation to Europe had given Max easy access to take you on field trips to various Grand Prix.

You had been uncharacteristically funny for a fourteen-year-old. Not in a mean or sarcastic way but genuinely funny with jokes and stories always ready to go. Daniel had liked you from the first time you had met.

Now, you were sixteen and you looked so much older but when Daniel looked at you, all he could see was that scrawny fourteen-year-old kid who had to have ten kilos of lead welded to her seat to meet the karting weight requirement.

Every time he looked too hard at the cut on your lip or the persistent redness of your right cheek, he felt sick to his stomach. He couldn’t imagine anyone ever wanting to hurt that funny, lovable little kid, or the young woman you were becoming who was still so full of life and humor.

“Daniel? You good? Do I have something on my face? Besides the obvious.”

Daniel forced out a laugh. “No. No, you’re fine. I was just wondering… How did you get that shiner?”

“Lost a fight with a revolving door. They’re vicious creatures, I tell ya.”

Daniel didn’t laugh. He barely managed a polite smile.

“Wow, tough crowd—yeah, it was Jos. I know that’s what you’re asking.”

You had always called your uncle that: Jos. Just Jos. Never Uncle Jos. Or Oom Jos, or however it would be said it in Dutch.

Your verbal detachment from your uncle didn’t make it any easier to stomach the thought of the man hitting you. Was this the first time? Had he done it before? How often? How severely? How had no one noticed?

“Y/N,” Daniel started, trying to approach the subject as gently as he originally planned, “You know you have so many people who care about you and would never want to see you kept in an unsafe environment? You have people you can turn to if you need help. Max, me, the people at Prema—“

“Did Max not tell you what happened? I figure he would have told you the story already. It’s pretty hilarious, in hindsight.”

What about this situation could ever be construed as hilarious? Daniel would admit he had a bad habit of making everything into a joke but this was a step too far, even for him.

“Y/N, I’m being serious. If Jos is hurting you, it has to be taken care of.”

“Believe me, I took care of it.”

Daniel just looked at you.

“Max really hasn’t told you?”

“Told me what?”

“So, I made that post about pride month on the first, right? Just ‘happy pride month’ in the caption of my insta post? Well, Jos decided that he wouldn’t have that under his roof and when I called him a ‘homophobic wife beater,’ he slapped me. Backhanded me, actually.”

Daniel was still failing to find even the slightest bit of humor in your story.

“So, I beat the shit out of him.”

Daniel blinked. “You what.”

“I beat the—I don’t know how else you want me to say it.”

“I’m not understanding…”

“He put his hands on me, so I rocked his shit. Kicked him in the dick. Slammed his face into the kitchen counter and broke his nose. Probably bruised a rib or two.

“He’s at home nursing his pride, I’m pretty sure. I’ve been staying with Max in Monaco ever since. It’s a real ‘you should see the other guy’ situation.”

Daniel thought he was having an aneurysm. His brain couldn’t decide if he should continue to insist that you could leave your unsafe home life or if he wanted to feed into the inarguably hilarious mental images of Jos Verstappen getting beat up by a sixteen-year-old girl.

The internal battle must have shown on his face because you said, “You can laugh. It’s pretty funny.”

No. No, he needed to be an adult and not feed into your interpretation of the events being funny. It wasn’t funny that Jos raised a hand to you. It wasn’t funny that you had to defend yourself from a grown man you were meant to be able to trust.

But then Daniel couldn’t stop imagining a semi-cartoonish version of your uncle curled on the ground, blood pouring from his nose as you stand above him, laughing maniacally with a foot on Jos’ side like a big game hunter.

“It’s not funny,” he barely managed to get out before he started laughing along with the triumphant caricature of you in his mind.

The you that sat across from him grinned. “No, it is 100% funny. He obviously didn’t know anything about me whatsoever if he thought I’d just let him get away with that. He started that fight, and I ended it.”

Daniel just laughed harder. You grinned even wider.

“No—it’s not funny! I swear, it’s really not.” Daniel collected himself as best he could, tried to look at you seriously. “Y/N, you can’t keep living with him. He can’t keep managing you.”

“I know. Prema’s already worked it out. They’ve found me a new manager and I’m staying with Max; he’s helping set me up in an apartment in his building.

“My mom is furious. She had to be escorted out of the hospital when she flew in to talk to Jos. She might have broken his nose a second time. I don’t know. I wasn’t there, unfortunately. Jos isn’t allowed within a hundred meters of me until I’m 18.”

That guilty, worried part of Daniel that had started festering as soon as he had read Prema’s statement about your altercation finally laid itself to rest. Everything was handled. You were safe.

“Y/N, I—“

Daniel didn’t really know how to put into words just how relieved he was. He didn’t know how to say how much he cared about you, how glad he was that you had gotten out of what could have been a terrible situation.

“I know.”

Luckily, you understood. Daniel didn’t have to stumble over the words. That was another thing about you that Daniel adored: you were intuitive.

“I’m talking through it with my therapist. But I’ll be fine. I feel fine. I’m not going to let Jos ruin me before my career’s even really started. I’ve still got a season of F1 Academy to win.”

Daniel had a feeling you were telling him this not because you needed someone to talk to but because you knew it was what he needed to hear. Relief settled even further onto his shoulders.

“Spoken like a true Verstappen,” he joked.

“My last name is L/N.”

“You still belong to the Verstappen clan.”

You giggled. “I hail from House Verstappen.”

“Exactly. Just like Game of Thrones.”

You fall into easy laughter alongside Daniel.

You were laughing. Your bruises would fade and you would remain unchanged. You would race later that day and continue leading your championship just as your cousin led his.

Ultimately, you were undamaged. You were safe.

And you also had one hell of a story to write a memoir about in thirty years.

[gremlingottoosilly]

First of all, I love your fics so much that I keep re-reading them! Second of all, I'm sorry for bad English, third of all! What about kidnapper!König and sick reader, like reader has a chronic illness that requires taking medication everyday ? Like would he just let reader die orrrr???! (Ignore if you want, I know this is dumb)

Hey, don't apologize!! English isn't my first or even second language too. Honestly, being chronically ill and relying on meds might just be the only thing that would save you from total isolation initially. When Konig just kidnapped you, he was vigilant enough to scoop all medication you had in your room - he would find your prescription and read it carefully, knowing how lack of meds can mess a person up. He is taking his anxiety meds - something he often forgets but swears it's not really important to him, as he is a strong, cool man without any problems. He had a few comrades taking prescription drugs from PTSD, and he is dealing with chronic pains from his many injuries - sometimes, when it becomes too bad, he is taking quite strong pain killers...so he won't really make you beg for your meds if you're good. If you're a nice, polite girl for him, you're having your pills in restricted time and he will be very observant to feed you and give you water - he doesn't want you sick, making you fall ill would require him finding a doctor who won't ask questions and, well, he is a mercenary, not a mafia member. In this AU, at least. (Mafia!Konig? Anyone???) If you're bad, however...if you can survive missing a day in taking your meds - you'll have to experience all the pain and withdrawals that come with it. Konig won't hesitate to cut your food privileges, and pills are being taken as well - he would wait to make sure you're not dying, of course, but you won't feel fine even after he allows you to take the minimal dosage. When you're crawling to him, all teary and ready to apologize, he would gladly accept it, and everything would return to normal. If you need to refill your prescription, however...well, Konig never planned on keeping you in the basement for forever - he wants you to be his pretty cute housewife, so he knows he had to let you go out eventually. He will watch over very carefully as you slowly run out of pills - and right before it would be over, he will suddenly make you get dressed and...let you out?? Really?? Well, don't be too happy - he is only doing a drive for a city hall because he wanted to make sure you're married first. Without a flashing wedding, unfortunately, but he'd then be able to get you under his insurance and his family doctor. Doctor visits in Austria(and Central Europe) are abysmal even if you are covered by a very good insurance, and you'd have to cling to Konig for translations - doctors are smiling and nice, but they won't acknowledge you beside the prescription you had, even if you had it in Austria too. Konig is handling all the communication and you know you're trapped - with a psycho holding your hand, holding your meds and literally taking away your last name to replace with his. But, well, at least you got your insurance, right?

[watchmegetobsessed]

TOO FAR

A/N: some clingy soon-to-be-dad!harry content, i really vibed with this idea

WORD COUNT: 1k

SUMMARY: Harry has been extremely clingy since you've found out you were pregnant and this morning is no exception either.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

You’re used to waking up to your boyfriend wrapped around you in bed in the morning, Harry is definitely a clingy sleeper and a big fan of spooning, but ever since you’ve found out that you’re pregnant, he’s taken it to the next level for sure.

It’s a sunny morning in Munich, warmth is flowing into the hotel room through the sheer curtains as you wake from your slumber and slowly process your surroundings. You’re lying on your side, a heavily tattooed arm is stretched out under your head while his other arm is draped across your waist, his big hand flattened out on your stomach, gently moving up and down underneath your night shirt.

Your bump is barely showing at this point, you’re only nearing the end of the fourth month, most of the time you look like you’re just extremely bloated, it’s been an ongoing joke between you, Harry, Sarah an Mitch, the only people on tour who know that you’re pregnant. You’ve been living in oversized hoodies and baggy clothes the past two months, trying to hide your tummy for as long as possible, but it’s getting hard since you’re travelling with Harry across Europe so your every step is being watched most of the time. The only place where you don’t have to be careful is in the safety of your hotel room.

Harry’s arm under your head curls around your shoulders as he pulls you tighter against his front when he realizes you’re up and you gladly melt into his embrace as he kisses the side of your head.

“Good morning, Love,” he greets you with that groggy, sexy voice you love so much. It’s probably one of the reasons you got knocked up, it’s hard to resist morning sex when he sounds like that and his looks just add more to it even. A few words and a wandering look at his messy, morning hair and the next thing you know is that his cock is inside you.

Not that you ever complained.

“Hi,” you smile, twisting your neck so you can look at him.

“How are you feeling?”

“Good.”

Your morning sickness finally stopped after the third month, but Harry has been still watching out for you in case you’re triggered again. Luckily, you haven’t started a morning with running to the bathroom in a while.

You feel both of his hands wander to your stomach, spreading his hands out over it as he presses a kiss to your shoulder. His legs are tangled with yours under the sheets and you feel like he is wrapped around you entirely, there’s no inch of your body he is not touching.

“Wanna stay like this all day,” he murmurs, brushing his nose against your ear.

“You have a show to give, can’t cancel on that,” you chuckle softly as you reach behind and comb your fingers through his hair.

“Don’t want to let go of you,” he whines like a kid.

“You’ll have to.”

“No. Come on stage with me.”

“How would you move around with me there? I can’t move along with you, I don’t have the energy,” you laugh and start wiggling around in his arms until you’re facing him, his arms remain locked around you.

“I’ll just stand for the whole show. With you in my arms.”

You just smile, finding his clinginess cute. A tiny part of you was afraid he wouldn’t take the news well, you didn’t plan this pregnancy even though you’ve been together for almost four years now. But it’s been kind of the opposite, he was obsessed with you before, but now that you’re carrying his baby, he has taken it up a few notches for sure. He’s always touching you, holding your hand or hugging you, he does everything for you and makes sure all your needs are met as fast as possible. He tells you he loves you probably a million times a day and wants to spend all his time with you.

Again, you’re not complaining.

“I’ll be waiting for you at the back as always,” you softly hum, brushing your nose against his before kissing him.

“That’s too far,” he mumbles against your lips, his arms tightening around you.

“It’s as close as I can get while you’re on stage.”

“Too.” Kiss. “Fucking.” Kiss. “Far.” Kiss.

“That’s too bad,” you giggle, but he is still kissing you, anywhere he can reach, on your cheeks, nose and chin. “You don’t really have a choice.”

“Mmm, just wanna be close to you. Both of you.”

“I’ll be right there when you run off the stage. We both will be. She comes to everywhere with me and I will be there,” you add with a chuckle, nodding down at your tummy.

“She? You still think it’s a girl?” he grins at you, that familiar twinkle in his eyes flashing again. You saw it when you told him you’re pregnant, when you had your first ultrasound and the first time he realized your bump was finally showing. You wish you could take a picture of it, but no photo can give back reality.

“Yeah,” you nod with a tiny smile. You’re gonna be in Scotland when the time comes for you to find out the gender, you already have an appointment reserved so by the time he steps on the stage for his second show in Edinburgh he’ll know for sure if it’s a boy or a girl.

He is staring at you like he is looking at the meaning of his life, like everything he ever wanted was right in front of him. Taking a deep breath he leans closer and kisses you softly.

“I love you,” you whispers against your lips.

“I love you too,” you smile into the kiss.

“Are you sure you can’t come on stage with me?”

You laugh, your head rolling back into the pillow.

“Yes, I’m one hundred percent sure. But when you’re done, I’m all yours.”

“Okay, then just give me a little more time,” he sighs, burying his face in your neck, but just moments later you have to break the peace.

“Harry?”

“Hm?”

“I really need to pee though.”

“Okay.”

A few moments of silence.

“You want to come with me to the bathroom too, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[wearebarca]

3. Captured // Alexia Putellas x Original character pt. 3

Part 1 part 2 part 3

synopsis: Rosalie has never stayed too long at the same place. When the opportunity of a lifetime presents itself critical moment in her life, the photographer decides to once again leave behind what she knows and joins the staff of Europe's best football team.

word count: 4,3K

18 + (eventually)

A/N: Hello, notify me if you'd like a little album of the pictures Rosalie takes. Spanish is from google translate so please be nice. French is my first language so all should be good on that part. Enjoy.

The question took the brunette by surprise. She could see that the footballer was getting more comfortable around her but she did not think that the woman would ask such a personal question. The subject had always been quite sensitive for the Canadian but, for unknown reasons she felt that, here, in this empty facility, with the catalonian trusting her with this whole process, she felt like she could share this bit of her story.

“ My uncle was a wedding photographer. When I was younger, he used to bring me with him to some weddings and have me play his little assistant. He would give me one of those single use cameras and tell me to capture what I found beautiful.” The memory put a nostalgic smile to the woman’s face. To this day, she still incredibly misses her uncle and wishes that he could see her today. 

“My parents were busy people, so my uncle took me under his wing. He taught me everything he knew and encouraged me to pursue this passion and helped me make a career out of it.” She raised her camera and snapped a shot of the blond who was listening with a small smile on her face.  “ Can you angle yourself towards the left please?” 

The blond moved to the side and for the first time tonight, really took the time to look at the brunette. Her hair was in a messy bun with a few strands escaping and framing her face. Her high waisted jean shorts showed off her long legs. She had on an oversized gray grandad cardigan on top of her black t–shirt. The sleeves of her sweater were slightly too long and went over her hands. The brunette looked comfortable and at ease, she was relaxed and completely in her element. She looked nothing like the photographer’s Alexia had worked with in the past. She was used to flamboyant people who yelled orders at their models or were constantly harassing her with their camera, not this slightly awkward, caring, beautiful woman who was willingly sharing her story with the footballer.

“ He must be an incredible photographer.”

“ He was yes,” The brunette’s expression dimed at that, Alexia suddenly felt bad for bringing the subject but the smaller woman motionned to her that everything was ok and continued. “  Eleven years ago he was diagnosed with bone cancer. He died a year later, not long after my eighteenth birthday.”  

“ I am sorry,”

“ Don’t be, I’m happy to talk about him,” She said smiling, “ What about you? Why football?”

“ My dad, he loved football. He was always very supportive and proud. He got sick.” The blond said, looking down, not wanting the photographer to see her be vulnerable. Rosalie felt the shift in the atmosphere and put down her camera. “ He said that he would not die before seeing his daughter play for Barcelona’s first team, but he went two months before I reached our goal.” 

The brunette wanted to hug the girl standing in front of her but could not decide if she would be comfortable enough to do so. “ I am sure he is extremely proud of what you have accomplished, La reina”, the name earned the smaller woman an eye roll from the footballer who shifted in a different position for the photographer. 

“ Ok, let’s get this shoot over with, I think we both deserve to go home and finally relax.” They finished up quickly and Rosalie was quite happy with the pictures that came out. While she uploaded the pictures to her computer, the blond helped picking up the equipment. Grateful for her help, the brunette promised the captain that she would bring her coffee next week as a thank you.

They walked out of the empty training center as the sun was starting to set. When the brunette reached her small car, she turned around to see the taller woman standing awkwardly behind her. 

“ I just wanted to thank you for making this shooting so casual and easy.”

“ Of course, anything to make you comfortable, Alexia.” She grabbed the blond’s hand and gave it a light squeeze. “ Have a good weekend Capitana,” 

“Thank you,” The blond started to walk towards her own car but turned back around after a few steps. 

“ Bonne nuit Rosalià.”

The morning air was crisp against her sweat coated skin and the breeze coming from the sea kept the brunette cool even after running for an hour. It was still incredibly early in the morning and the only sounds that could be heard were the odd car passing and the sound of her feet hitting the pavement. Early morning was her favorite time to go run. It allowed her to be completely submerce by the calmness of the still sleeping city. Rosalie didn’t often run with music, preferring to listen to the sounds of her own steps, which acted as some sort of metronome for the torrent of thoughts running in her head lately. 

It had been four days since her shooting with the captain and still, the whole ordeal seemed to be the subject her brain would drift back to whenever the French-Canadian would let her mind run free. The fact that the blond seemed to make tremendous effort to stay as far as she could from the photographer had not helped the questions that were quickly multiplying in her head. 

Rosalie somehow thought that after that night, Alexia would be more approachable and less standoffish. But clearly the woman was not as comfortable as she thought with how vulnerable they had gotten and now she was probably regretting telling the brunette so much. Or maybe she thought that Rosalie went too far by sharing her story with the footballer. Whatever the reason was, the results were still the same. 

Later today, the team will be taking off towards Sevilla for a two day trip. They would all meet at the training center and take the team bus towards the airport. Flying had always been a tricky thing for Rosalie. When she was a teenager she had been on a plane with extremely violent turbulence that had scared the girl and ever since, flying had been one of the woman’s biggest fears. Her friends had always found the thing ironic, since the brunette's job required Rosalie to fly frequently and said that she should’ve gotten used to it by now. But nonetheless, every time the photographer simply thought about flying, she would get restless and anxiety would start creating a pit in her stomach. 

This was the reason why she was currently out at such an ungodly hour, trying to literally run away from her anxious thoughts. Around her she could see that the small coffee shops that were lined on the streets were starting to set up their front patios in order to open and the smell of freshly baked pastries was floating in the morning air. A quick look at her watch told her that she still had a good three hours before Lucy and Keira would arrive at her apartment to pick her up, meaning that she still had time to hit  the half marathon mark before heading back.

She wasn’t used to running this long on morning runs, but she had gone over her training program with Sara, one of the coaches and switched up her training to make it more challenging. So far her breathing was good and she could feel the slight burn of her legs but overall, her pace was good and she was more than satisfied with her time. 

Sara had been a true angel this past week. She had helped the runner organize a new training plan that was focused more on endurance rather than speed. Rosalis had always struggled with long distances which was why marathons were her least favourite type of races. She was extremely hard headed though so she was still focused on mastering this type of event. 

She even went as far as going running with the Canadian during the weekend. She was quite impressed by the level of fitness the brunette was displaying and found that she very much appreciated the company of the French-Canadian. After their run they had stopped at a local caf�� and had agreed to room together during the upcoming trip. 

When Rosalie arrived at her apartment complex, she noticed the couple’s car parked by the door. She checked her watch to see that she technically still had at least an hour and a half before they were supposed to be here. She opened her door to come face to face with a sleeping form on her couch and Lucy running around in her kitchen.the smell of crêpe was wafting in the space.

“ Took you long enough,” The older woman whispered, handing Rosalie a fresh cup of coffee.

“How did you even get in here?”

“ You’re the one who left her door unlocked Rosie, which is not very safe darling you should be more careful.” 

The blob of  blankets on the couch stirred enough to reveal disheveled blond reddish hair. “ Lucy, please shut your mouth. I'm trying to sleep here.”

Rosalie made her  way to the living room and jumped on the woman who screamed at the Canadian to get off.

“ Frenchy you smell like ass go shower, Mama Bronze isn’t done with food anyway.” 

After her shower the brunette put on some comfortable clothes consisting of the staff’s tracksuit pants, a white t-shirt with the Barcelona logo and the Nike club vest that had quickly become one of her favorite articles of clothing. When she came back in the kitchen, everything had been picked up and the kitchen island was dressed up with the food. Lucy and keira were already sitting down and shoveling down food.

“ Mais quel bande d’animal, sincèrement? Vous ne pouviez pas attendre que j’aille fini?”

“ Tais toi femme et viens manger.” Lucy replied with her mouth full.

“ I regret teaching you French, I hope you know that.” She sat down and sipped on her coffee. She wasn’t hungry due to the knot that kept her stomach in check. Knowing that the younger woman would most likely not be able to eat due to her nervousness, Lucy got up and pulled out from the fridge a protein smoothie she had made at home before coming over. 

“Here, at least drink this, you just came back from what I assume was a big run. You gotta put something in you.”

Once breakfast was over, Rosalie finished packing up her camera bag while the girls were loading her bags in the car. The drive to the training center was quiet. Keira was still half asleep and Rosalie was simply too stressed to engage in conversation. Lucy didn’t mind the silence, she was relaxing and enjoying the time spent with two of the most important people in her life. 

The bus ride with the team was more or less the same, with everyone in  pretty much the same state as Keira. As they got closer to the airport, Rosalie’s nerves became worse. Her knee was bouncing up and down and the woman kept zoning out, unable to keep listening to Martina who was going on about a rumor about some people working in management. Thanks to Marcello’s participation in the conversation, Rosalie’s state remained relatively unknown. Or so she thought. 

A few seats behind her, Ingrid, Alexia, Mapi, Keira and Lucy were all sitting together. Knowing that the younger girl was quite fragile at the moment, Lucy had kept a close eye on her. 

“ Hermana, you keep watching Rosie, is everything good?” Mapi wondered, stretching her neck to catch a glimpse of the photographer. 

“She hates flying, it affects her a lot. I just don’t want her to get too bad, you know » Alexia had also noticed the change in the brunette. The normally bubbly woman looked pale and uncharacteristically quiet. 

« Can we do something to help? » Ingrid asked.

« Not really, nothing really distracts her in this situation. We just have to let her process this and stay close, just in case. » Keira replied. They were used to flying with the brunette and had tried everything to help her calm down but nothing really did the trick. She usually would put her headphones in and grip the seat as  hard as she could until they would land. 

Lucy got up and excused herself. Alexia watched her make her way to the front of the bus where the coaches, therapist and the rest of the staff were. “What is she doing?”

“ I think she’s trying to figure out who’s sitting with Frenchy on the plane.” Keira answered, turning towards her girlfriend.

“ They are close, Si?” Alexia’s curiosity had gotten the best of her. She wasn’t jealous, she could see that Lucy and Keira cared a lot about the green-eyed woman and she did not understand why, but she wanted to know as much as she could about her. 

“ Yeah, Like sisters they are. Lucy’s very protective of her, she does have much family. We’re hers now, you know.” Keira smiled as she watched Lucy walk back to her seat, but not without stopping to drop a granola bar on The Canadian’s lap and threatening her to eat it before they boarded. 

“ So who’s with her?” 

“ Apparently she’s the only staff member who didn’t get a ticket in the same area, probably because they booked it after everyone else. She’s gonna sit with the team, but we don’t know our seats yet so..” She said as she sat back down.

“ It’s ok, I can ask whoever is with her to swap with me, I’ll sit with her.” Ingrid said smiling. 

“ Thank you Ingrid,” Lucy said, visibly more relaxed knowing that the brunette would be with someone she seemed to trust.

At the airport, security went smoothly and the team collected their boarding passes only to be called moments later to the gate. The speed at which everything was going was a godsend for Rosalie who was too focused on making sure she had all her documents all the while taking pictures of the team, to have time to think about the moment the wheel of the plane would leave the ground. 

As she walked in the tunnel leading to the aircraft, Rosalie could feel her heart hammering in her chest and her palms getting increasingly sweaty. Lucy’s grounding presence helped the brunette a little but her fear was fighting hard to gain control. The photographer checked her boarding pass for the first time since receiving it to check what seat she had been assigned. 

“ where are you sitting?” The question came from Ingrid who was walking in front of them. 

“ I have B47,” her answer came put a lot more calm than the woman felt as she scanned the seats to find her own. 

“ That's good, Mapi and I are right in front of you,” As she was answering, the Norwegian stopped and picked up her bag to place it in the overhead bin, which told Rosalie that they had reached their seats. She walked the few steps that separated her from her seat, only to come face to face with the woman that had been occupying her mind for the last few days. 

Suddenly, Rosalie’s anxiety found a new target to spiral about. A hand on her shoulder pulled the photographer out of her thoughts. 

“Are you ok? We can sit together if you want? I have a few movies downloaded on my tablet. Mapi can sit with Alexia.” Ingrid asked, smiling softly at the brunette. Rosalie appreciated the dark haired girl but there's one thing that woman hated more than flying, and it was  pity. She knew that they only wanted to help her but she couldn’t help but feel like they were pitying her and she didn't want to appear weak in front of her new team, which is why she politely declined, thanking the couple and placing her belongings in the bin on top of her seat. 

The comotion caught the attention of the blond captain who had not seen who was prepared to sit next to her. She was more than surprised to see the photographer standing in the alley with a nervous small playing on her lips. 

“ Hey,”

“Hola,” Alexia said smiling, picking up her bag from the seat next to her. She sat down next to the blond and closed her eyes to try to calm herself before take off. 

Looking at the brunette, Alexia felt a strange sense of protectiveness wash over her. She wanted to make the brunette feel better, make that smile that takes her breath away appear on the photographer’s soft features. A few seats away, she could see Lucy watch them with a worried expression which Alexia answered with a reassuring smile. She would not let the brunette spiral. 

Surprisingly, Alexia was not the first one to speak. “ I am sorry if I overstepped during the shooting. I didn’t want to male you feel uncomfortable.” She said, eyes still closed and head thrown back. If she was to sit with the blond for this trip, might as well try to make it a little less awkward. 

“ What do you mean?”

“ I don’t know, I just  don’t want you to think that I’m probing your personal life.”

“ No, no I did not think that, do not worry,” the footballer took a second to think about what she was going to say next. She was aware of her own behaviour towards the photographer. The woman made her nervous and she felt like with the brunette, she did not need to put on a controlled facade like with the rest of the media team, and that scared the Ballon d’Or winner. Alexia hated feeling like she wasn’t in complete control of herself, so the easiest solution in her mind was simply to keep her distances. But staying away from the brunette did not appease her curiosity. “ I am very sorry if I made you feel this way. I appreciate your presence Rosalia.” 

The blond’s small confession made Rosalie slightly relax, enough for a small smile to escape her lips. She turned her head towards Alexia, who felt a warm feeling take place at the sight. “ I appreciate your presence as well.” 

The plane jolted, signaling the brunette, who had momentarily forgotten where she was, that they would be taking off very soon. She quickly grabbed the arm rest and panic flooded brain. Alexia, who had seen the brunette deteriorate, did the first thing that came to her mind. She grabbed the hand that was gripping the arm rest and held it with her own. She reached with her other hand and gently turned the photographer’s face towards her. Green met Hazel and the brunette was instantly captured by the depth of the footballer’s gaze. 

“You’re ok, hey look at me, breathe with me ok?” The blond took a deep breath in through her nose and out through her lips. The brunette followed the footballer’s lead, her eyes never straying from Alexia’s. “ bien, lo estás haciendo muy bien”

Alexia’s words ignited a small flame at the pit of the photographer’s stomach which successfully calmed some of the anxiety, but replaced it with an odd feeling that the French-Canadian was simply not ready to face yet. 

“ Here take this, it'll help with the pressure,” the captain pulled out a pack of gum and popped two pieces in Rosalie’s hand. The first bite surprised the photographer who made a face that pulled a chuckle from the footballer. 

“ What kind of psycho chews cinnamon gum?”

“Hey it’s good don’t be mean,” the woman answered with a hurt expression. She could see that Rosalie had calmed down quite a bit, but the deadly grip she still had on the blond’s hand showed her just how sacred the photographer was. Suddenly, they could feel the plane gain some speed and the wheel lifting off the ground. The brunette’s gaze shifted quickly towards the small window as panic clouded her eyes.

“ no, no sigue mirándome” With her hand still on Rosalie’s face, she drew the brunette closer still. Only a few inches separating the two. Rosalie could smell Alexia’s perfume, something sweet, like strawberries. She smelled like summer, it was intoxicating. She didn’t understand what the blond had said but it did not matter, since as soon as her gaze met hers, the blond smiled sweetly and Rosalie forgot once again where she was. 

“ Tell me one of your happiest memories,” The French-Canadian was surprised by the blond’s question. She had gone from ignoring the photographer to taking care of her during takeoff. She knew that Alexia was simply trying to distract her, but the curiosity she could see shining through her eyes made the brunette realize that maybe, the football player didn’t hate her after all. 

“ My first triathlon, it would have to be one of the most meaningful things in my life.” She answered.

“ Tell me about it, si?” 

“ It was a few years ago, my uncle loved triathlons. He used to do one every summer. He also volunteered as a photographer for the races. When I got older I would volunteer with him and he used to say that I would be a great triathlete if I wanted.” She said, smiling at the memory. 

“ He knew that my football days were over since I had gotten injured and needed surgery on my ankle. He said that once I’d be on my feet again I should give it a try. But I used to think that I would hate running, it was the part I hated the most during training.” Rosalie’s expression darkened. 

“When he died, I thought that it would be a good way to honour him in a way, the training was so hard. I had never swum before and my cardio wasn’t great coming back from injury.” She took a deep breath and her gaze left Alexia’s to shift to their intertwined fingers. 

“ But the rush of crossing the finish line was electric. It felt like I made him proud.” She looked back up only to see the captain's face lighting up along with hers. 

A few seats in front of the two, Lucy was witnessing the whole thing along with Keira. They couldn’t believe what they were seeing. In the time they had known her they had never seen her be so relaxed on a plane, nor being so physically close with someone she had just met. She had always been a bit weird about physical touch, it had taken a while before she started to relax whenever the English women hugged her. But at this moment, hand in hand and only a few inches separating their faces, the photographer looked comfortable, happy almost. 

The sound indicating that you could take the seat belts off pulled the two women out of their little bubble. Realizing that she was still gripping the footballer’s hand, Rosalie slowly untangled her fingers from Alexia’s and slightly pulled away from her. 

“Thank you for distracting me,” 

“My pleasure, I am always happy to know more about you Rosalia” The footballer turned around and pulled out her headphones from her case. Rosalie, still surprised by the blond’s statement, put one headphone back in her ear, letting the other one dangle in on her chest and closed her eyes, listening to the calming sound of her music, all the while keeping an ear out in case anything happened. 

A few minutes passed, not much could be heard around. Everyone was either on their phones or had put a movie on their screen. Rosalie could see from the space between seats that Mapi and Ingrid were snuggled up and watching The Lion King on their tablet. An intense shuffling sound pulled her attention away from their screen to see Alexia intensely searching for something in her bag.

“ Ah mierda , where are they?” She sounded frustrated enough for the brunette to lean in to see.

“ Are you ok?”

“ Si, I think I did not bring my headphone charger and they just died,” The blond said frustrated. 

“ Here,” The brunette took her headphone that was resting on her chest and offered it to the footballer. “ we can share if you’d like, I’m not using them both.” She said smiling. 

“ You don’t mind?” 

“Of course not, it’s the least I can do after you helped me like that.” She said, getting closer so the wire wouldn’t pull her other headphone out. “ What do you usually listen to?” 

“ You can leave on what you were listening to, I just don’t like working without music.” The blond said, pulling out her laptop. Rosalie pressed play again and the soft piano song started again in her ear. After a moment, the blond stopped typing and spoke again. 

“ This is nice, very calm, what is it called?” 

“ This is Interlude by this group called London Grammar. The singer’s voice is so powerful, it’s one of my favourite groups.” she said, happy to share her music with the blond.

“ Good, I will look them up then.” The blond went back to her work, softly humming to the music in her ear. Meanwhile, Rosalie was starting to feel like her lack of sleep and intense morning run were slowly taking a toll on her body. Alexia’s calm and grounding presence, along with her perfume that flooded her senses every time she took a breath allowed the photographer to relax enough for her eyelids to become heavy. Slowly her whole body became heavy and her head lolled to the side, resting gently on Alexia’s shoulder. 

At the contact, the footballer went rigid, but relaxed as soon as she realized that the photographer had finally succumbed to sleep, after being on edge all morning.  Knowing she could not work without disturbing the brunette, Alexia closed her laptop and relaxed in her seat, letting the soft music guide her towards sleep as well.

A/N: feedback is appreciated

[flowerfreya]

Cherry Wish

Fix It

Cherry Wish Masterlist

Reader takes care of Simon , while Soap wonders where he went wrong

CW: abo , beta reader , alpha soap , omega Simon

Soap is in over his head and he didn’t realize that until Simon is whimpering under him , saying your name like a prayer.

“Baby, she’s not here”, Soap whispers in his ear. Which causes Simon to let out a pitiful whine and to scent the room in a bitter undertone of his actual scent.

“Need her”, Simon sobs.

John shouldn’t be surprised that Simon is acting this way. They both imprinted on you but they wanted to take it slow and ease you in.

He didn’t realize that Simon’s omega would already think that you are theirs.

Back in the car with you there, hand on the omega’s hip, the bitter smell is already melting away getting replaced with a more outdoorsy scent that smells like rain and linen.

Simon says your name softly, you respond just as quickly fully invested in his well being, already knowing he’s going to feel bad that his alpha wasn’t enough for him omega.

“‘M I in trouble”, he questions. Still hasn’t opened his eyes and is still thrusting into thin air.

“Course not baby”, you understand that this had everything to do with biology and nothing to do with the actual person , at least not yet. “Right alpha?”, you give a gimme to Soap and look at him pointedly hoping that he will catch on.

“No of course you're not in trouble”, Soap confirms and it has Simon letting out a shaky breathe and the rest of the bitterness melts away.

At their home , you can tell they prepared for a heat. The fridge is stocked with pre-cut veggies and fruits, along with pedialyte and other easy access meals.

Even though it is Europe and most buildings do not come with central air, people that have an omega in the mix will shell out for it because an overheating omega is not a good thing and the air seems to be set on a cool 65 degrees. Simon all but pulls you into his nesting room , which seems to be separate from their room. The room is small but filled up with multiple mattresses and clothes everywhere and in the center is a circle full of soft blankets and big pillows. You feel hands grabbing on your shirt and small tufts coming out of Simon's mouth because you aren’t going fast enough.

“Calm down, I’m coming”, you say as you pull your shirt off and start to take off your pants.

“Hurry”, he holds his hand out to you waiting for you to hand him your shirt and then obsessively smells and places it right behind one the pillow that seems to be the head of the mattress. And then sniffs until he seems like he can’t breathe and turns red.

“Simon”, you question, worried that he’s about to have a heat sick drop. You don’t know when the last time he got a knot and if it’s been too long then he could get sick.

“Johnny!”, you need to get him in here and take care of his omega but he seems to be scared to that. He answers you but he doesn’t come into the room , you can hear him rummaging around in the kitchen. You try to leave the room but then Simon whimpers letting out a don’t go. Taking off your bra and pants and placing it under his pillow which calms him down , hopefully enough time to convince Johnny to come in here and take care of his omega.

Seeing him in the kitchen , cutting more fruit for whatever reason , “Hey , you know you have a heat sick omega in the other”, pointing your thumb toward the room.

He at least has the decency to look embarrassed and his ears turn red, “thought you were takin’ care of it”, he shakes his head , looking defeated , “ I caused this , I don’t know how to help him”

“Well I don’t have a knot so I can’t help him”, if he thought that you were going to baby him , he had another thing coming.

“John”, you come up to him and make him face you, “you have an omega up there that in heat , needing a knot , your knot and your mopping down here because you didn’t know he imprinted on me”, he nods his head in agreement , “okay but now you fixed and you do know , now lets get our omega fixed up , yeah”, you say to him as you start to pull him up the stairs to the omega in question.

[nebbyy]

How would Baldwin react if reader got sick?

King Baldwin x reader - sickness

A/N: I'm loving all this king Baldwin enthusiasm, I've been waiting for this moment for ages omfg!!! (little 10 year old me is screaming now that I have the chance to write for my historical crush).

Btw I don't know if I should be making all the fancy set up for all headcanons of him (like, author's note, warning and painting), the last posts didn't have it because it didn't seem fit to me but you let me know

Psssst painting is "Paolo and Francesca" by Frank Dicksee

Warning: none, sickness maybe?

Oh boy

You wouldn't be able to leave your bed.

Sickness was a big deal back then, you could easily die form a cold, so ain't no way that he's taking any more risks.

To be honest the climate was less brutal in Jerusalem than Europe, which was even colder than modern times (and living in Switzerland I can assure you that it gets REALLY cold).

He would insist on keeping you in his quarters, always near his sight, and when he had to leave to attend to his royal duties you'd be surrounded by his best physicians to take care of you.

But he would like it best when he's the one tending to you, it's one of the most intimate moments he gets with his beloved

He'd use a wet cloth to clean your face of the sweat, gently caress your body while he orders to get some ice from his servants to cool your body down

Incense would fill the room to ease your mind and make the ambience more comfortable for you to rest

He'd love to bathe you, hold your weakened body as he frees you of that sickly sticky feeling that has been clinging to your body for the past days

It would take you some convincing to let him sleep with you in the same bed to be honest, as he would've been too scared to be that close to you while you're so weakened already

Because, what if in this state your body is so weak and ill already that it makes it easier for you to contract leprosy as well? He wouldn't survive the guilt of knowing that he'd be the cause of your demise

He would've only relented after seeing your pleading eyes, begging to have him close to you at night, to not be left alone, to not have to suffer his absence too

But all his worries would be washed away once he got to feel your body close to his once again, see your droopy eyes looking at him and your weak smile of gratitude for his closeness

Then, once you would've fallen asleep, he would hold you a close as possible, kissing your boiling hot forehead while he prayed God to let you live, to let you stay with him just a little longer

And he was sure his prayers had been listened once he wakes up to the sight of you, smiling at him with renewed strength, your body once again fresh to the touch

You were healed, and he couldn't have been more happy even if he'd woken up healed by leprosy himself

[samsalami66]

Don't Go Kicking My Heart

Another part of the soccer au, it is time for fluff and trauma! Enjoy!!

Read on ao3!

Today was the first day of a new era. A new age of football.

The world of sports would remember this day. 

The day Morpheus Ateleios, winner of the European Golden Shoe, first played for Fiddler’s Green, the highest ranking football club in all of Europe. 

Or, well, the day he first trained with them. His first match was still far off, the next season only started in a few months after all, but today was his first day as a part of the team. He would face the players for the first time not on opposite sides of a field, but as a teammate. 

Morpheus was about to be sick, standing in front of these unfamiliar training facilities in the middle of London, miles away from Wych Cross and Roderick’s now cold and dead body. The distance wasn’t enough. No distance could make up for the ache he still felt in his bones, in his muscles, for the bruises slowly healing on his back and chest. 

But thinking about the ghost of Roderick Burgess still being imprinted on his skin was not what really got to Morpheus’ stomach. 

No, it was the fact that he would face Robert Gadling for the first time as a colleague. A part of the team. 

Gadling was… well, to say Morpheus and him did not get along would probably be an understatement. They had a bit of a turbulent history. 

Said history might have involved red cards for both of them during their latest match, following a disagreement they had decided to solve with fists rather than words. 

It hadn’t been one of his proudest moments. 

There was just something about Gadling, something that set him off in the worst way possible. Morpheus wasn’t a pleasant person to be around, he’d admit, but Gadling would stare at him with such distaste, it felt entirely unwarranted. Jessamy would say it was jealousy, because Morpheus was clearly the better player between the two of them. But who knew, perhaps the Fiddlers’ star player was simply a homophobic asshole, like so many others in this sport. Maybe Roderick had a point when he said that nobody would want to play with him or share a locker room if they knew about him, about his fantasies. 

Perhaps he had been right to announce them to the world.

But god, was he really about to walk into a locker room full of people who would rather have him dead than anywhere near them? Would they refuse to undress before him, just like the Riggers had done? And what would Gadling do to him in the privacy of a training facility, where there was no referee to step between them, no cameras pointed in their direction? 

Fuck, all of this had been a terrible idea. He should leave, should tell Gilbert that he simply couldn’t play for this club, that he would have to find another player, that there was simply too much antagony and hatred and-

“You alright there, mate?” A voice, all too familiar, sounded from behind him. Morpheus couldn’t help the yelp that escaped his lips at the sudden appearance of Robert Gadling right in his personal space. He had been too caught up in his thoughts and didn’t even notice that the other man had approached him. It took every ounce of self-control Morpheus possessed to school his face back into something less terrified as he turned towards his old rival. 

“Why do you care?” He replied, venom dripping from his words. All it earned him was a raised eyebrow. 

“Well, you look like you’re walking to your death sentence. Mind, I don’t actually know what you’re doing here, of all places, but I’m pretty sure the death penalty was abolished in 1969 over here in the UK.” Robert Gadling looked thoughtful for a moment, one hand coming up to scratch at his beard, and Morpheus was left to stare at him. None of this answered his question. “Unless you committed treason of course, the death penalty for that was abolished in 1998 I think. Not that it matters much, both are in the past now, but the more you know!”

There was a moment of silence after Gadling stopped talking, one in which Morpheus contemplated if he should pinch himself for the unlikely reason that this was all a dream. Though surely not even his brain could come up with such impossible scenarios all on its own. After all, he knew nothing about English history. 

Perhaps if he didn’t answer, the other man would leave. 

But no such luck. Robert Gadling was not fazed by his silence. 

“Not a fan of history, eh? Fair enough, I guess it’s not everyone’s cuppa tea.” Gadling winked at him then, and Morpheus decided that perhaps pinching himself wasn’t the worst idea after all. A stab of pain shot up his arm, but, again, no luck. This really was no elaborate nightmare. Gadling was talking to him. “How about a joke, then? Something to wipe that mopey look off your face?”

He did not wait for Morpheus’ answer. He would not have gotten one anyway, but it was still rude. 

“Why’s Cinderella bad at football?” Morpheus was dreading the answer to this question more than he had dreaded entering the facilities in the first place. Robert Gadling waited for a moment, if for dramatics or simply to torture him, Morpheus didn’t know.

“Because she lost her shoe and ran away from the ball!” 

It was an awful joke. Really, it might be in the top ten of the worst jokes Morpheus had ever heard. And yet, he felt the familiar feeling of laughter bubbling up from deep within him, a sort of hysteria he simply couldn’t control, couldn’t stop as it was about to simply burst from his chest. 

Perhaps it was the whole situation that made him hysterical, the stress of the past few days that came crashing down on him that had sent him into delirium. Or, maybe, he simply wasn’t very sane to begin with.

Morpheus tried desperately to clasp a hand over his mouth in order to stop the horrible noise from escaping his lips, but it was a futile attempt. Waves of laughter shook his body and the sound, only slightly muffled by his hand, spilled into the air between him and Robert Gadling. 

Morpheus knew that his laugh was horrible. Back at school people had held their ears whenever he laughed, much later people had simply asked him to stop whenever he couldn’t catch himself in time. Roderick had had the cane. But Gadling did not do any of those things. 

Gadling was simply… looking. He looked… amused? Fond, perhaps? Morpheus couldn’t really see through the tears that were building in his eyes as he tried to calm down. But he had to be imagining things, nobody had ever looked fond when confronted with his joy. And Gadling… Gadling hated him.

Didn’t he? 

“Looked like you needed that.” he said, tone warm, and Morpheus wasn’t too sure about it anymore. “Come on, I’ll bring you wherever you need to go. And call me Hob, yeah? My friends usually do.”

Robert Gadling clapped a hand on his shoulder, and Morpheus had never felt so unsteady on his feet or in his world-view. 

It was minutes later that the two of them entered the training facilities of Fiddler’s Green, Gadling chattering away at Morpheus’ side as if they were old friends. He talked about anything and everything, topics seemingly unrelated to one another, though somehow Morpheus managed to keep up with the jumps in his stories. How he went from a camping trip the team went on last month to when he went fishing with his father when he was younger, to the anatomy of grasshoppers they had presumably used for fishing, and the physical differences between grasshoppers and crickets. 

It was weirdly familiar, so similar to how his own brain worked. Though he could never verbalise his thoughts like this, without overthinking every single word. Gadling didn’t particularly seem to care if he could keep up, just kept talking and gesturing as they walked. 

It was… calming. Morpheus found himself hoping that he didn’t stop any time soon. 

But, of course, they had a destination. And once they reached it, Gadling slowly came to a stop in his rambling. Before them were the doors to the locker rooms, through which Morpheus heard voices, broken up by laughter, louder than he had ever experienced a locker room to be at Fawney Rig. 

The Riggers hadn’t talked much to one another. Certainly hadn’t laughed together.

“Right, Gilbert should be with the other guys. Do you want me to get him or come inside?”

Considerate. Morpheus wished he didn’t have to go into this room. But there was no point, if he was supposed to work and play with these men in the future. 

“I would come in, if you don’t mind.” 

God, Morpheus hated how small his voice sounded. Gadling must be aware of what he was actually asking. The question Would you allow someone like me into your changing rooms? hidden somewhere between the lines. But the other man simply raised an eyebrow at him, smiled fondly and held the door open for him. 

“I wouldn’t have asked if I did.”

Morpheus remembered very clearly how the Riggers had once asked him to come inside the locker rooms after Roderick had outed him, just to close and lock the door in his face. 

It had been three years since he last stepped foot into a shared locker room. And Robert Gadling invited him, his rival, inside with a smile. 

Morpheus hoped the tears stinging in his eyes weren’t too obvious.

As they entered, member after member turned to look at them with an air of surprise and curiosity. One of them, blond, American, and with a devastatingly handsome smile, whistled and waggled his eyebrows in Gadling’s direction. 

“Did you finally have the guts to talk to Mister Dreamy without starting a fight, Robbie?”

When Morpheus turned to look at the other man, he could see that his tanned skin turned red around his cheeks, all the way up to his ears. Huh, Morpheus hadn’t known that Gadling felt embarrassment over their common disagreements on the field. He had always seemed very confident in his anger.

“Shut it, Cori. He’s here to talk to Gilbert.”

Just as Gadling said it, the man in question looked up from some papers he had been studying, with a smile spreading over his face. “Oh, Mister Ateleios!” Gilbert stood quickly to offer him his hand, which Morpheus took without much hesitation. The coach of Fiddler’s Green was a homely man, soft and welcoming in every way Roderick hadn’t been. “It’s wonderful to have you, son, just wonderful! I’m glad to see you’ve found your way just fine.” 

Morpheus couldn’t remember when someone had last called him son. Perhaps when he had last seen his parents… some six-odd years ago. Though, honestly, his father had stopped calling him son long before that. It made a part deep within him ache to hear it again, from a stranger nonetheless. But he couldn’t get emotional in front of all these people, not now, so he forced a smile and a nod, and hoped his voice didn’t break when he answered. 

“Yes, Mister Gadling was kind enough to lead the way. I am honoured to be here.”

The elder man patted his shoulder, fatherly, and Morpheus was a hair’s breadth away from breaking down. 

“Glad Robert could make himself useful at least, when he’s already never on time.” Gadling pouted at that, but didn’t otherwise react. Such a statement from Roderick would have had the entire room cowering in fear. But these men weren’t afraid. It was strange, but at the same time filled Morpheus with hope that this perhaps wasn’t a huge mistake. “And now that you two are here as well, it’s time for the big announcement, wouldn’t you say?”

Gilbert hadn’t warned the team of him? With all their history? Either the man had incredible trust in his men or he didn’t care much about Morpheus’ physical well-being.

Morpheus was about to be sick after all. 

“What’s the announcement, boss?” a raven-haired man asked from their right, curiosity in his voice. Or was it mistrust?

“Well, boys, Mister Ateleios here approached me a few weeks ago, asking to become a part of the team. And I signed him on, of course. He will take Paul’s place, since his spot opened up with the end of last season.” 

Morpheus closed his eyes, preparing himself for protest, for judgement, for insults. All of it would be reasonable, and he wasn’t stupid enough to hope for a better reaction. He had landed Gadling in hospital once, for Christ’s sake. He would be lucky if nobody resorted to violence in the face of what must feel like betrayal from their coach-

“Oh fuck yeah, we will kick ass this season with Morpheus on our team!”

Gadling’s excited voice cut through the silence like a knife through butter, and suddenly the whole room erupted into cheers. Hands found his shoulders and back, patting them with enthusiasm as Morpheus blinked his eyes open in surprise. The men were smiling at him, not a hint of malevolence in any of their faces. Robert Gadling was practically vibrating with excitement, his eyes shining like those of a child at Christmas. Nobody had ever looked at Morpheus like that, like his presence was a thing to look forward to. 

It would change, surely. They were happy to have his skills on their time, were looking forward to a successful season. That was all. 

It would change. 

Morpheus was sure of it. 

- - - 

The next day, Morpheus was the first ready for training. He was early, really. Dreadfully early. When Roderick said training started at eight, he had expected the team to show up at six at the latest. But apparently the Fiddlers were less inclined to begin a day so early. 

No matter, a few extra hours would not do him any harm. 

He could warm up already, set up a few exercises. Perhaps it would reflect on his conviction to be a valuable player for the team, so they would perhaps forgive his lack of character. 

It was as good a plan as ever. 

He started off with stretching his legs and feet, before moving onto his arms and neck. It was calming, to spend some minutes in tranquil silence, simply feeling the muscles in his body stretch and loosen for the day ahead. Just as he was about to start his last set of stretches, a voice came from the side of the field, which almost caused him to strain his neck with how fast he turned around to look at the source. 

Of course, it was Gadling. 

“Did you hear about the team whose back four was only two fullbacks?”

That. Didn’t make any sense. What was that supposed to mean? Had he been supposed to do preparations for today’s training? Research the teams they would be playing? Gods, if he had already missed such a vital task on his second day they would never tolerate him, they would put him on the bench and find a different player, they-

“Apparently they're double stuffed.”

It was another joke. A pun. A horrible, terrible, awful pun. 

Morpheus couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him, half-delirious, his heart beating so fast in his chest he felt a bit faint. 

He hadn’t misstepped. No reason for punishment. He was okay. 

Except that he was laughing, freely, before Robert Gadling. 

He really had to get a grip on himself. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t keep the laughter in, couldn’t stop, not even when tears were running down his cheeks and his stomach felt like he had done a hundred situps. 

Gadling was smiling when he came closer, as he seemed to do so very often since they had met in front of the facility. He sat down next to him, mirroring his current position, and Morpheus couldn’t help but smile back at him as they began to stretch together, Gadling once again regaling him with stories and anecdotes and seemingly random facts. 

It was nice. 

Morpheus had absolutely no idea how to deal with it. But he decided to simply accept it for what it was. 

- - - 

On Saturdays, the Fiddlers met for drinks. 

It was an unspoken rule, a tradition, and Morpheus had been invited during that first week of training with the team. Therefore, it was important to leave a positive impression. 

He arrived, dressed in a tux and carrying a bottle of wine, at the address Gadling had sent him. It was… not a real restaurant, nor another place he recognised. It didn’t seem to be a place where any of the other players lived either. The sign on the front of the building read The New Inn and from inside Morpheus could hear the same laughter and joy he had come to associate with the locker rooms of Fiddler’s Green. 

They were a loud bunch, almost irritatingly so, if it weren’t for the warmth their company provided. Spending time with them was easier than it had ever been with the Riggers. 

Upon entering Morpheus was greeted with cheers and whistles, and he realised very quickly that he was immensely overdressed. The team sat around a large table towards the side of the room, dressed in jeans, t-shirts and hoodies (except Ken and Cori, those two technically wore shirts, though Morpheus was not entirely sure that they could really qualify as such with how little they were covering.). Gadling sported a fading band-tee about two sizes too large and sweat-pants.

Gods above, Morpheus would stick out like a sore thumb. Why had nobody told him about the dress-code?

“Looking good, Dreamy!” Cori called over the cheers, a grin on his face. “Dress to impress! Robbie will look dreadfully underdressed next to you.”

The man in question kicked Cori underneath the table. 

“Ow! What, it’s not my fault you roll from your couch upstairs right down to drinks night!” 

The tips of Gadling’s ears turned red at the other man’s words, and Morpheus almost felt the need to defend him. After all, it was his being overdressed, not Gadling being undressed, that was the faux-pas here. 

But in the spirit of good impressions Morpheus simply sat down on the free chair next to Gadling and placed the bottle of wine on the table. It was immediately nicked by Mervyn, an appreciative whistle leaving his lips as he read the label. “Good stuff, Dreamy. Cheers!”

That nickname, twice already this evening. Morpheus wasn’t entirely sure if it existed to make fun of him or was simply a thing these people did. It had been there since day one, and apparently the team wasn’t about to stop anytime soon. It… did not bother Morpheus too much. He had never had a nickname. Roderick had only ever called him Morpheus, and he had only ever said it with hatred, disappointment or cold detachment. Never with humour, joy or fondness, had never used it to tease him. 

“Why did the winger miss the match?”

Gadling’s voice, quiet and right next to his ear, quickly pulled Morpheus out of his thoughts. It was a question. Had he missed a part of the conversation? Was he supposed to answer? Or, no, it wasn’t another one, was it…?

“He was busy chasing ball.” 

Oh, fuck, it was another one of Gadling’s horrible, god-awful puns. That was it. Proof that Gadling hated him, had just been nice to him to gain some twisted sort of amusement. Morpheus knew the laughter was coming this time, knew he was helpless against it bubbling up in his throat. He didn’t want to face the whole team as they were subjected to his laugh. Surely they would tell him to stop, to keep quiet, to leave the inn, laugh at him. 

But there was no helping it. With his face hidden behind his hands, Morpheus allowed the sound to spill over and mix with the laughter around them. Seconds passed by, and the noise around him did not stop. Conversations continued, drinks were drunk, and nobody seemed to react at all. 

Ever so slowly, Morpheus dared to raise the hands from his face and to peek into the group of people around him. 

Nobody was batting an eye. 

Stunned, and more than a little confused, Morpheus let his hands drop to his lap. Beside him, Gadling was nursing his beer, almost as if he hadn’t just tried to embarrass him in front of the entire team. Or… perhaps he really hadn’t tried to. Nobody was laughing at him after all. Nobody was shouting at him to keep quiet or to go outside. 

Almost as if it were okay for him to just… be. 

- - - 

About a month later, Morpheus sat in his apartment on his day off. A Sunday. The first of the month. 

It was a quiet day, warm and sunny and the only sounds were the birds chirping outside.

That was, until someone decided it would be a brilliant idea to abuse his doorbell. Probably some reporter, or an obnoxious fan. They would get bored soon. Very soon. 

Ten minutes later, the doorbell was still ringing and Morpheus had had enough. 

“Gamo to kerato sou. People nowadays have zero respect for privacy.”

Morpheus was ready to yell at whoever was standing behind the door, scare them off so they would never show their face here ever again. 

But behind the door was Gadling. And Cori. And Matthew and Mervyn and John and Ken and… even Gilbert was there. Gadling was holding a cake in his hands. Self-made, by the looks of it. 

The frosting read Happy One Month Anniversary!

Morpheus was about to cry. 

He couldn’t help it. He rushed forward, right into the arms of Robert Gadling. Because this must have been his idea, insufferable, incredible man that he was. Considerate. God, he was always so considerate. Cheering him up with stupid puns every single day, forcing him to relax, to trust, to breathe, to be. 

Forcing Morpheus to enjoy his company. Seek it out even. He didn’t do hugs. And yet, here he was. 

“Thank you, Hob.” he whispered, so only Hob could hear. The arms around him tightened, and the other man pressed his cheek against his own. 

“Anytime, Dream.”

[digitaldiarystuff]

Christmas Miracle

Happy holidays everyone! Hope you enjoy your time off with your loved ones 💖

also, this wasn’t requested but i just got an inspiration and went with it, i’ll slowly work on the requests you’ve given me

————

summary: you are one of Aurora’s childhood friends and you’ve made plans to celebrate christmas together until Pablo’s injury happened causing her to spend it with him. But she didn’t forget to invite you

pairing: Pablo Gavi x Y/N

genre: fluff

warnings: mentions of injury and surgery

————

It was around 4 when you finally made it to Páez Gavira household holding some take-out for the dinner tonight. You had enough time to drop your suitcase at the hotel room you booked and make it to the night. Aurora and you were supposed to take a trip during this time but due to Pablo’s injury, she had to cancel. You totally agreed and encouraged her to do so, obviously. But she felt so bad to bail on you and invited you to join them. You tried to protest, you were fine being at home alone since your parents lived across Europe now but she wouldn’t listen. She also told you her family wanted you there as well, you were childhood friends and very close with their parents. You waited patiently as the door opened and you fully expected to see Aurora behind it but it was actually Pablo with his crutches. You felt your heart break but didn’t show it.

You and Pablo have had a complicated relationship, during your childhood, you all played games together but as the years passed, he became a typical teenage boy with attitude so whenever you and Aurora were together, you stopped hanging around him that much. Then he became slightly less annoying and you became friends again but it wasn’t as close as you once were. During this time he became a lot more muscular and you nearly forgot he once was the annoying boy who dropped water balloons at you from the second floor balcony. But you couldn’t think of him that way, it was wrong on so many levels so you always remained cordial. He, on the other hand, was always obsessed with you according to Aurora. Ever since you were little children she complained about his infatuation with you but you always saw him as a child, even though you were only a year older.

But seeing him with a longer buzz cut, your vision of the little brother of your best friend was shattered.

“Hi.” he smiled as you went inside.

“Hey, how are you?” you asked almost like a reflex but as you saw his sad eyes wished you didn’t.

“I’m sorry, I mean that’s probably your least favorite sentence right now.” you smiled apologetically as he shrugged.

“No it’s okay, you can ask. I hate it when others do it though.”

You brought the food in the kitchen as he followed you in the house. You hugged everyone then Aurora dragged you to her room for some gossip. She told you all about her relationship and you looked like you were listening but actually you were waiting for your turn.

“So, how’s Pablo?” you asked after she finished. You knew he was doing better but still.

“Ugh, I’m sick of you two. He’s always asking you and you’re always asking about him, but who’s asking about Aurora?” she mocked and you laughed. As you were about to respond, you heard her mom yell out about the table being ready so you went downstairs.

You went down and everything looked amazing, you thanked them again and again but they insisted you stop saying you were family. You were greatful for their kindness, holidays have been too lonely ever since your parents left the country and being a student, you couldn’t visit them as much as you wanted to.

During the dinner, your eyes kept shifting to Pablo, you knew he was going through such tough times but he seemed like he was handling everything like a champ. You really were proud of him.

“So, Y/N, do you have a boyfriend yet?” their mom said smiling suggestively. You froze for a moment as you felt everyone’s eyes on you.

“No, I’m still single. Just focusing on my studies I guess.” you politely said and your eyes met Pablo’s, he was trying to hold his smile.

The rest of the dinner was just pleasant, champagne glasses being served and finished in minutes as you felt relaxed, being with them always seemed to lift your spirit. After the dinner, it was time to exchange gifts. The Páez Gavira’s politely waited for you to do so. Seeing their expensive gifts made you feel uneasy about yours but they quickly made sure they loved everything you got them. Aurora gifted you a designer bag you wanted since you can remember and the parents bought a scarf for the holiday spirit.

It was now Pablo’s turn and his gift bag was smaller than the others, you tried steadying your shaking hands as you opened his gift. It was a diamond necklace with a pendant with your initial.

“I love it, Pablo this is amazing.” you said smiling ear to ear. He knew you so well, this was exactly a piece of jewelry you’d wear.

“C’mon put it on.” their mom said and you smiled turning your back for him to clasp your necklace. As his fingers touched your neck you felt goosebumps arose. You quickly turned back hoping he didn’t catch on, too embarrassed about your body’s reaction to him. Everyone’s attention turned to other gifts when you felt his eyes on you wondering his gift. You actually got him a sweatshirt and printed some inside jokes on it with his name on the sleeve. This was the best you could come up with your student loan but as he opened the wrapper, his face lit up.

“This is amazing!” he said and kissed your cheek, it was like a spur of the moment but you felt butterflies in your stomach, why was his touch burning your skin, you wondered.

“Y/N, your room is upstairs. Aurora, show her the guest room, okay?” their dad said as they were leaving the table to get some sleep.

“I’m actually staying at a hotel.”

“What?” both Aurora and Pablo asked in unison.

“Yeah, I dropped my luggage there before I came here, it’s actually pretty close.” you explained.

“No way we’re letting you leave at this hour and on christmas.” they told you over and over again but you didn’t want to be a burden. Their protests only stopped when you agreed to spend the night and Aurora gave you some comfortable clothes to sleep in.

It was now well past midnight and everyone nearly passed out in their rooms. But even though you were so tired, you couldn’t sleep so you went downstairs into the backyard of the house to spend some time. Soon you heard footsteps behind you.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Pablo asked as he sat down next to you.

“Yeah” you smiled as he left the crutches to the side. He was wearing the sweatshirt you bought.

“I see you liked my gift.” you teased and he looked down, feeling embarrassed that he wore it the second he went into his room.

“It’s a very nice sweatshirt, has nothing to do with you. And you’re also wearing my gift.” he said fiercely. Pablo was always competitive but you enjoyed this side of him, most of the time.

“Well it’s a good necklace.” you repeated and he laughed.

“So how’s everything going?” you asked and he started telling you about his fears about his injury and you found yourself comforting him, both leaning your heads against the cushions, being too close. After the serious talk, the subject turned to lighter topics.

“And remember when you smashed Aurora’s Barbie’s?” you said with tears in your eyes from laughing too much.

“She broke my remote controlled car first!” he defended himself while laughing with you.

His laugh was like an epidemic, spreading onto you and you found yourself examining his face, with some facial hair and new hairstyle Pablo looked like a completely different person and you couldn’t take your eyes off of him.

“You’re staring.” he pointed out and you looked away quickly ashamed that you got caught.

“I never said I didn’t like it.” he smiled.

“It’s just, you look different than I remember.” you confessed maybe with the courage many glasses of champagne gave you.

“Oh yeah? How so?”

“You look more mature. Like I always remember you as the annoying kid running after us and now you look all grown.”

“So you don’t think I’m a child anymore?” he smirked.

You suddenly remembered a conversation you had with Pablo 3 years ago when you were 17. He mustered up the courage to tell you he liked you but you declined feeling weird about it, you told him you saw him as a child and it was wrong. Guess he never forgot it.

“Yeah, I think you’re more of a teenager now.” you giggled as he rolled his eyes.

“I’m serious Y/N. Look we’re both over 18 and I still haven’t been able to get over you.” he confessed and you were at a loss of words. You never in a million years thought this was a conversation you’d revisit after years.

“Pablo, you’re still younger than me and Aurora’s brother.” you reminded him but he knew these were all excuses.

“But you said it yourself, I don’t look like the child you remember anymore.”

He was completely right, you didn’t think of him as a child anymore.

“Something shifted in your eyes and I can see it.”

He started leaning in but you freaked out.

“That’s not true.” It was.

“Really, so you haven’t changed your mind about me?” he challenged and leaned in even closer.

“No I haven’t.” you quickly said and tried looking away but he reached over to hold your cheek not letting you.

“So you don’t feel anything.”

“I- I don’t.”

“Then why haven’t you pulled back or slapped me?” you could see the smirk pulling on his lips and you cursed yourself for being under his spell. But he was right, you couldn’t pull away.

“Pablo” you whispered but he shushed you.

“Shh, let me try this one thing and if I’m wrong I’ll never mention it again. I promise.” he pleaded and you were too weak to say no.

He connected your lips slowly, no rush at all. The kiss started out small, just a peck but soon you couldn’t resist opening your mouth letting his tongue in. The moment his lips met yours, it was like fireworks went out and the outside world has stopped moving. It was just the two of you and you couldn’t get enough of the taste. His hand was still placed on your cheek and you didn’t even notice when he placed it on your waist, pulling you closer to him. You couldn’t even pretend to not want it, just let him devour your lips and held onto his arm to steady yourself even through you were sitting down. He pulled away after a long time, smiling whilst your noses were touching. You couldn’t stop the smile forming on your lips as he went in for another kiss. You didn’t even know how long you sat there completely lost in each other, kissing over and over again.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.” he whispered.

“I think I do, you were never good at pretending.” you teased again.

“Listen, I really want this Y/N and I- I’m crazy about you” you felt your heart warm up at how sincere he was being.

“I think you’re crazy, period but…” you paused “I think I really want this too Pablo, but the distance and-“

“We’ll figure it out, okay? I’m not letting you go.”

You just smiled and leaned on his shoulder whilst his hand stroke your hair and face every once in a while and you didn’t sleep at all that night, just happy you got a christmas miracle.

[r1pp4r]

Hello There! I hope you're ok, I was wondering if u can help me, It's my first time asking :( ...

Anyway, imagine being captured during a mission, the enemy results being someone from your past an ex boyfriend or something like that, and he's trying to break your spirit which is not an easy task, so finally he ask why are u keep high hopes and confidence, and you answer him with a smile and a "he's going to find me and that will be the end for you"

Would be so cool with König 🤞🏻 but u can decide that 🥺

i hope i did your idea justice!! <33 i tried my best :)) im sorry its a bit long, and not much of tha boys🧍‍♂️i kinda liked the idea of keeping it mysterious n not much of them

anyway!! here ya go <333 i’ll make a ghost version if y’all like this one :)) anyway this’ll be sfw!!

warnings: mentions of gore and violence :))

——————————————————————————————

you could feel the hair nearly ripping from your scalp as you were being drug a across the floor in a large, open warehouse room. you kicked and scratched, thrashing your arms like you knew how.

but you were like a caged animal, with no escape. thrashing and trying to run. but to no avail. you were on a recon mission with KorTac, and a few of you had gotten separated. including you. but that was their plan all along.

you grunted loudly as you felt you back thrown against a chair, your hands being bound to the back of the metal chair. you struggled once more but finally realized it was futile. so you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, before whatever cloth was over your eyes was removed.

it took you a minute to adjust to the bright fluorescent lights, blinking out all the dust which gathered into your eyes. but as you opened them, you could hear people around you. talking. it was loud, and you couldn’t think.

“oh, you’re awake huh.”

that voice was familiar. too familiar. you began to struggle almost worse, your eyes widening as you realized who it was. but the hand on your shoulder made your blood run cold. the weight was the same. the exact place he touched was the same. you knew it all too well.

“it’s been a long time, yeah? when was the last time we saw each other? was it- no no no. it was france. three years ago.”

the voice made you sick. it was disgustingly sweet, and the way his hand trailed over your skin made it crawl. your hands flexed against the zip ties and tape that were binding you down. you could barely breathe as he had taken all the air from your lungs.

the man came around to the front, squatting down in front of you. of fucking course. but how the hell did he get in to europe? especially here? those are questions you’d get later, but for now you kept eye contact. your gaze was cold as you had a mask which covered your nose down.

“let’s take off that little fuckin’ mask shall we?”

you threw your head back as the man reached out, a sinister grin on his lips. but as you threw your head back he grabbed your jaw and throat, nearly crushing it as he ripped your mask off.

the mask was more than just something to hide your face. it had become your identity and once the man ripped it off, you felt violated.

“there’s that pretty little face i missed.”

without thinking, you spat in his face, your chest heaving as you stared at the man with a deadly stare. your eyes were narrowed and you were clearly holding your ground. the man chuckled, shaking his head as he pinched his nose between fingers and wiped the spit off.

you didn’t care. you knew this man wouldn’t do anything to you or at least you thought.

and as you heard a deep breath, you suddenly felt pressure against your jaw and it was hard. it nearly knocked the chair over and of course he’d punched you. you coughed, spitting out blood as you sat back in your chair, staring at him.

“know your place, bitch!”

the man flung his hand slightly and it was obvious he’d barely thrown a punch before.

“you’re here to give me some information and then we’ll be on our little way. got it?”

you didn’t say anything. you didn’t even move a single muscle. you were trained for moments like these and you wouldn’t let a man like him break you. but you also didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. so you just didn’t say anything.

you didn’t have any of your gear on you. they’d obviously stripped you of everything but you could see it on the table. you didn’t know how long it had been since you’d gone missing and you knew it wouldn’t be long before he found you.

so you just knew you needed to hold your ground and keep composure. you were ready for this. you were made for this. you absolutely knew he was coming for you, and you’d be dammed if you were dead. you wouldn’t leave him like that.

but as the man tsked, it broke you out of your thoughts. you watched as he began walking over to you as he placed a hand on your jaw, gently tilting your head to look up at him.

“aw sweetpea. you’re not gonna talk? i’m sure you will soon.”

the man spoke. you didn’t move once again. but you looked over to the side where the door was. you were waiting. he gripped your jaw once again, causing you to look at him. you still didn’t say a word as you turned your head back, getting his hand in your mouth and you bit down as hard as you could. you could feel his bones flexing under the sheer power of your bite and you definitely drew blood.

but you didn’t care.

the man stumbled back, holding onto his hand as he screamed. you just sat there in the chair, blood running down your chin as you kept your hard and heavy gaze pinned upon him.

“you fucking cunt! fuck! you- oh you shouldn’t have fuckin done that!”

the man yelled at you. he held onto his hand, hissing at the pain but you just sat there with a dumb little smirk on your face. he obviously didn’t know what was coming and you wouldn’t give any evidence to what was.

but you knew he was coming. he had to. the tracker in your suit, walkie, and almost all of your gear proved that. and as if he’d ever let you out of his sight for that long.

you truthfully thought that would be it, but once the man had gotten his hand wrapped, he walked back over, placing a chair in front of you and he sat. the grin on his face truthfully sent a shiver down your spine. he was going to hurt you and he’d make it painful.

but you wouldn’t budge.

———

you were bloodied, bruised to a pulp. even though you were sobbing from the pain, you hadn’t given anything up. and you wouldn’t. you hadn’t said a word besides a few nasty remarks and retorts, which obviously just landed you more blows. you could tell the man was getting frustrated as him and his colleagues began arguing. you coughed, looking back at the door once more.

you could feel it. you could feel him. his presence was absolutely menacing and you knew he was coming for you. but did they? absolutely not. otherwise they never would’ve put their hands on you.

the man walked back over to you, and gripped your jaw once more, shifting your focus. you had a dead set look on your face and your eyes were numb. at this point you would’ve let them kill you, because the rage of him wouldn’t disappoint.

the man groaned loudly, narrowing his eyes.

“you were never this strong when i knew you. what happened to the little bitch i knew, huh? the little girl that tucked her tail between her legs at the sight of a man, huh!?”

he yelled, slapping you across the face once more.

you finally turned to look at him with a smile as you heard the sounds of men talking outside the building. you knew exactly who it was.

“you’ll be dead soon enough.”

was the only thing you said and the man scoffed, guessing you were referring to the obvious reinforcements that were coming to save you and of course the man didn’t think anything of it.

“we have this place surrounded little girl. no one’s getting in or out.”

he pfft’d. the other guards were laughing slightly. even with the radio chatter outside, they didn’t seem scared. but they should’ve been.

the man finally sighed and walked over to the table which had various weapons that had been used against you. but this time it was a gun. your eyes widened a bit, and you thought this was it.

but he was coming for you.

“those boys out there are the least of your worries.”

you finally spoke out.

you chuckled, leaning your head back against the chair as the man then pointed it at your chest. the man laughed with you, and of course it wasn’t for the same reasons. you’d let him have his fun and his moment. but this wasn’t ending well for one of you, and it wasn’t you.

“oh really? what could i possibly have to worry about besides them?”

and the smile which graced your face with was something beautiful. it was a real genuine smile as you began to hear the yelling. you knew exactly what was coming.

“just him.”

your tone was flat as the man raised an eyebrow. and as if on cue, the door was busted down. and there he was.

of course könig had come for you. he was a bit farther away but you could see the rage in his eyes. you saw as he looked to you, his eyes widened with concern as he saw the way you were bloodied and bound to a chair. but seeing a man with a gun to your chest?

how dare he.

and as könig began sprinting towards the man who had just tortured you for god knows how long, you took comfort in knowing that this man would be dying at the hands of your lover. and god would he die.

könig wasn’t kind, nor merciful. but hell was terrified of him after what he did to the man who put his hands on you. you couldn’t keep your eyes on him, because you’d never seen him move this fast. könig would usually take his time, but for what they did to you? a fast death was merciful. and as silence rang loud in the building once again, your thoughts were broken by heavy footsteps.

“oh.. my libeling..”

könig’s tone was soft, but the rage in his eyes was still burning bright. with his stature, he had to get on his knees in front of you, untying the ropes in which bound your hands to the back of the chair.

“don’t.. don’t worry, i’ve got you. you’re safe i’ve got you now.”

and as you fell forward, könig wrapped you in his arms, holding you tightly to his chest. you knew he would come for you.

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM TASKMASTER SEASON 16 *  assorted dialogue from the tv show, adjust as necessary

you look so nice, but underneath it all, you're just a shit.

it's just exciting to know people are talking about me.

i don't want to be in there with some wet guy.

oh, i'm gonna push this bitch.

are you a child of divorce?

to this day, i don't know what vibe i give off.

i know it's annoying, but it's all i've got so... just let me have it.

i've never done that.

i'm actually quite good with a sword.

this is one of the most exhausting things i've ever done.

why didn't i just draw a cock and balls?

i don't know why i said that, 'cause i don't really regret it.

you're easy to look at than i am.

oh, you're here. what a thrill.

you absolute anus!

you've got a friend?

would it be mischievous to say things that i'm not supposed to say?

can i just say, i love weapons.

you made me say every country in europe.

do you have a license?

if i do nothing else in this life, that was worth it.

[name], the heat is on.

what sort of cool things do you want?

stick that in your pipe.

i knew what had happened, and even i was swept along by the narrative.

it was avant-garde. it was french cinema.

good luck with your career.

bit late for a banana.

it was very, very cold that day and i wanted to get it over with.

is that your starting position?

i knew it was something boring.

don't have to tell me twice.

it is the least sexy thing that anyone's ever said to anyone.

i don't like going upside down.

what have i done? oh dear. what have i done?

it's nice, it's harmless, it's warm.

this thing is disgusting.

that's useless. that's worse than useless.

i also agree with them. you are sick.

your pie technique was dreadful.

i really like it when you're disappointed in us.

oh, is there a fire? how awful.

nothing going through my head is family friendly. not one idea.

lovely legs, sir!

you got a problem?

that was heterosexual male banter.

are you a superstitious person?

it's too late for that.

do i just choose a name?

i can drive people crazy.

that is a true story, and i feel a bit sick.

i bought it to annoy my husband 'cause i thought he'd hate it.

i'm well-presented, very smart, and available for no-strings fun round the back of the barracks.

what room am i in?

what's your favorite number?

why is there smoke?

running a business is bullshit.

when i think exercise, i think exorcism.

we're not allowed to work with nature?

we were at a wedding together once, and i made you eat a whole pat of butter.

obviously you want to put it on a penis.

are you joking me?

is this something that would excite a heterosexual?

you're going to get a lot of letters.

i'm gonna go for plan b and just throw some things.

is this your stage persona, or is this what you're like?

i don't know what you mean.

you can hide in there waiting for your victims.

i'm sorry, i nearly killed you.

is it appropriate to call him "sir?"

i just really like the idea of stuffing a massive stick up a mannequin's arse and rotating it like a rotisserie chicken.

i was made for this.

i was told by an ex that i have the hands of a midwife.

is that a compulsive disorder of some kind?

what an absolute shower of shits you are.

[veirtyel]

Okay cause I need to talk about it here are some of the biggest differences between The Boys In The Boat movie vs book that I wish had been in the movie

Bobby Moch's Jewishness; for those who don't know, Bobby was half jewish. His dad was jewish which he only found out right before going to Berlin, which was a big deal for him. His whole life he didn't know because his family left europe and changed their last name, and his father hid from him the fact that they're Jewish. At this time, anti-jewish rhetoric was being propoganded to the nine in Germany and Europe, reaching the US as well, which made Bobby leading the team to victory against Germany, like, a big deal and I feel like could have been a cool thing to happen in the movie. I loved Bobby in the movie and think he had actually one of the better book-to-film character adaptations, I just wish this had also been included.

Joe and Shorty's friendship!!! Another thing that was changed was that Joe actually only knew Roger and Shorty for the first like year of school, but he was really close with Shorty (the guy who sits behind him on the boat the whole movie). There's this whole bit I was sure they'd include in the movie where shorty would always say "I got your back, Joe," to him during practice and races, and I just wished they'd emphasized on this in the film since we really only see Joe's friendship with Roger and (kinda) Don.

Speaking of THIS. Don did get sick in real like and was practically at Death's door. The only reason he even raced in the final race was because of the boys! There coach was literally gonna ban him from racing and would have, but the boys put up a fight. They gathered before the race and told the Coach that they wouldn't row without Don, that they'd drag him if they had to. I wish they'd included a scene of the boys fighting for Don to be in the boat, because without Don, they wouldn't be complete. I might be delusional but I'm actually pretty sure they DID shoot this scene then didn't include it (my evidence is that I saw a behind the scenes where they're yelling at SOMEONE and I'm delusional)

Joe played the banjo!!!! He was like really good at it and it fit perfectly with Don's whole piano thing (he really did play the piano well) like they added that whole scene in the movie where they force Don to play the piano in front of everyone and like they could have included Joe's banjo skills lol.

They fought the germans. Like, the boys at some point got physical with the German team and i KNOW they filmed this too (Mr Clooney give me the extended scenes plx I beg of you)

This is all I can think of at the moment, but I also have in my head a list of things they changed for the movie that I liked, and vice versa

[julianalvarez9]

three of us / john stones

summary: keeping secrets from john is never easy, but telling the news is much sweeter after the treble. wc: 900 words mentions of: the ucl final, kinda planned pregnancy, established couple.

today was the day: the champions league final.

john had been waiting for it ever since that dreadful match against chelsea in 2021, when the other english team got crowned. they had to swallow the bitter taste of the loss, while seeing their rivals bask in the rays of victory and history, in equal parts.

this time around, though, it was different.

not only the vibes were different -the entire club had this strange aura only winning teams had, which was backed by their evergrowing cabinet they were filling with trophies almost every week now-, but the players, too. they trusted each other, knew each other by heart, almost having the capacity of anticipating what the other would do, and thus, being able to cover for them in case things got out of hand unexpectedly.

but you didn't really see john in a different light until recently, when you found out you were expecting your first child.

after finding out you were pregnant two weeks ago, you figured it would be better to keep it quiet. at least, after the finals: john was too focused on it, anyways, and you didn't want to bring him any more pressure he didn't need. but also, you wanted to tell him in some meaningful way, and you were too busy right now to figure out how to do it.

luckily, your symptoms weren't strong; you didn't have any food aversion or morning sickness that could alert your partner. but today, after the 95 minutes ended and the whistle was blown, signaling the end of the match, your eyes started to pour.

truth be told, your eyes had started to get a bit glassy when you saw kevin fall to the floor in the first half. you knew the functioning of the team by having seen them almost every weekend when you were cheering for your boyfriend, so you knew something was wrong when the belgian didn't quite have the ball on his feet as much as usual. obviously, it could have been due to inter's plan in defense, but you just knew something was off.

when the whistle was heard across the stadium, all emotions got loose. it truly felt like the stars all aligned, and it couldn't have gone another way. the family box for the man city players started getting empty soon enough, and you knew everyone was running towards the pitch, to give the champions of europe their deserved congratulations. 

it wasn't long until you found your boyfriend, the biggest smile on his face that only seemed to grow ten times bigger when he saw you getting closer. his long legs helped him reach you even before you could take two steps to get to him. "you did it!” you squealed, engulfing him in your arms. he had to hunch a bit to get himself to your size, and do what he meant to do all along: grab your head in between his hands to plant the biggest kiss to your lips. “you don't know how proud of you i am!" you get to say, before he’s bringing you back in for another bone-crushing hug.

"you're part of this, you know?" he says, his big, blue eyes boring into yours. his forehead is resting against yours softly, and it feels like it’s only you two inside the stadium where the match had taken place. "should i start calling you champion of europe now?" you joke, and john laughs at your quip, head tilted back and all.

"i think it'd be fine if you continue calling me love, sweetheart".

that’s when it occurs to you. you won’t get a better moment than this to announce the sweet news. you two wanted this for so long, it doesn't make sense to wait for another occasion, planning a big announcement when it feels like the correct timing is right now.

"what if i have another nickname for you in a couple months?".

john tilts his head in confusion, backing off a bit to see your face and reactions more clearly. "in a couple of months? why not now?" he asks, and you grin at his dumbfounded face. "they're a bit small now,” you begin, and he opens his eyes wide. “they won't use it for a couple of months…".

"they?" he smiles, while bringing you closer to him, hiding your stomach by his larger frame. he was gripping at your waist before, ever since he caught hold of your figure, but now he's drawing little circles with his thumbs. you don't really know if the loving gesture is due to the implication, or he's just mindlessly doing it. still, it warms your heart, just like the way he's looking into your eyes with his bright, hopeful blue ones. 

you nod, and his smile can't get any bigger than it is. "you've just made me the happiest man in the world, you know?" john grins, as he fixes a string of hair behind your ear, that had previously fallen over your eyes. his big hand rests there, on your cheek, softly caressing it and enjoying the soft moment shared between you two.

"thought you already were, with getting the treble and all" you joke, reminding the greatness of what they had just achieved. "good that we won it, then,” john says, heavy barnsley accent clear in his voice. “three trophies for the three of us".

[bellysoupset]

Three fics from me in a day? More likely than you think!

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Jon wasn't surprised when he woke up in the middle of the night with the sound of retching.

Like clockwork, Leo's stress tanked his immunity and he got sick. Despite being sleepy and his whole body hurting thanks to all the flying around and his messed up sleep pattern, Jonah stumbled to the bathroom, nearly walking into the doorframe.

He poked his head in and sighed, Leo was hunched over the toilet, one arm wrapped around his stomach, the other one draped on the seat.

Before bed they had shared a ridiculously long shower, until they both felt like people again. Now, Leo's humid hair fell in front of his face, the very tips nearly reaching his mouth.

"Aw, Leo," Jonah groaned, walking in and crouching down, pulling back his boyfriend's hair. He planted a hand in the middle of Leo's back and cringed as he could feel the heat rolling off of him, "how long you've been here?"

"Uhm... Dunno," Leo spat in the clear water, unable to keep the drool in, "I don't feel well..."

"I know," Jon rubbed vigorously, snorting to himself as he realized he had missed even this. How stupidly in love was he that he missed rubbing Leo's back as he threw up?

Leo lurched forward with a deafening retch, but didn't bring up more than some acidic spit and he let out a moan, "I can feel it..." he pushed in his own stomach and Jonah cringed in sympathy as he heard a growl coming from the upset organ, a wet burp rolling out of Leo's lips, "ugh. Not coming."

"Come to bed," Jonah grabbed his shoulder to keep Leo from falling against the bathtub, "I'll bring a bin for you, but come to bed."

"Noo..." Leo's eyes squeezed and he gulped down, "I'm gonna be sick."

"Yeah, no shit, baby," Jonah rolled his eyes, "I don't want you in the cold bathroom ground, c'mon-" he wrapped an arm around Leo's chest, using all his force to pull him up. The blonde stumbled, nearly taking them both down, before he straightened up.

He braced against the sink to wash his clammy face and caught Jonah's eyes in the mirror, "you're clingy."

"Distance makes the heart grow fonder and all that shit," Jonah smiled at him, appreciating the glimpse of his boyfriend's personality under all the nausea and heartbreak. Leo swished some water around in his mouth and spat it out, hanging over the bowl for a second as he took measured breaths.

"Yeah, all that shit," he pressed his stomach against the marble, forcing up a little UUrp and wrinkling his nose, "my body fucking hates me."

"Your body is exhausted," Jonah corrected him, planting a hand on Leo's forehead and pushing back his bangs, "and didn't stand a chance against the mighty European germs I brought home."

"UUhm..." Leo groaned, his stomach gurgling in the silent bathroom, "so you're to blame for this," he lifted up his head to glare at Jon in the mirror and Jonah frowned, feeling a stab of guilt.

"I'm sorry-"

"I'm joking," Leo cut him off sharply, "I'll take a stomach bug to have you home, any day," he straightened up, "I'll need that bowl though."

Five minutes later they were in bed, Jonah had planted the promised bowl on the bedside table and Leo was draped over him like he wanted to melt their bodies together. His cheek was pressed to Jonah's chest and he kept muffling little sick burps against the man's shirt, but didn't pull back.

"How was Europe?" Leo asked after a minute of silence, while Jonah started petting his hair, fully hoping Leo's body would be able to just deal with the nausea on its own.

"Old," Jonah smiled, "same as its been for the past thousand of years."

"Oh c'mon, you want me to believe you weren't having a blast in Paris?" Leo groaned, "I know you love me, but give me a break-"

"No," Jon snorted, "it's not that, though I would have preferred to have you there. It's just I have been to most the places we visited, the fun part was spending time with Angie, not the tourism."

"She's too pissed you guys had to cut it short?" Leo sighed, sounding defeated and Jonah paused the hair petting in order to look at his face.

"She's worried and pissed she's in the dark, but not over cutting it short. Angie really likes you, baby, she was completely understanding," he ran his fingers over Leo's forehead, warm but not enough he should be worrying, "besides, we're gonna see her much more often."

"Uh?" Leo pulled back, in order to sit up, and Jonah frowned.

"Leo?"

"Give me the bowl," he squeezed his eyes shut, letting out a little burp under his breath, "we're gonna see her more often...?"

"She's going to Massachusetts's College of Art," Jonah planted the bowl in his hands and moved a hand to support Leo's forehead in case he lurched forward, "so she's gonna be only 3 hours away from us, by car."

"Uhmm..." Leo's throat bobbed nervously and he let out another wet belch, "that's great-"

Jonah couldn't help but chuckle at the cognitive dissonance of their situation and Leo's words. He turned his head slightly not to look, but continued holding Leo's head, cringing as he heard another burp, this one turning frothy at the end and some liquid splashed in the bowl.

He could hear Leo panting, hyperventilating, and the noise of his throat working to try and swallow back a gag- He retched, loudly, and a lot more liquid fell in the bowl.

Jonah's own stomach turned and his mouth filled up with saliva, reflexive nausea washing over him. Thankfully his stomach was painfully empty, since he had ditched dinner in order to cuddle with Leo.

His boyfriend had stopped gagging, but hadn't moved from his hunched position, so Jonah gulped down and turned to look at him. In their half lit bedroom, illuminated solely by the bathroom light spilling out, Jonah couldn't make out the liquid inside the bowl, but could definitely see that Leo was milky white. His mouth was slightly open, jaw heavy with nausea, and he was clearly fighting another bout.

"Leo, just let it up, baby," Jonah sighed and Leo shook his head, back curling as he suppressed a heave. Jon frowned, knowing it was a losing battle and moved his arms around, so he could wrap his right one around Leo's waist and press his hand against the man's tummy. The minute his palm pressed against the top of Leo's belly, he let out a gurgling burp and more liquid fell in the bowl.

Jonah gagged, turning his face and pressing his mouth to his own shoulder trying not to hear or smell anything. The nearly three weeks away had been enough time for his tolerance to lower back again.

Leo groaned loudly when Jonah pressed on his belly once more, causing another pathetic wave of vomit to fall, his hand clumsily coming to grab Jonah's wrist and stop him, "eu-Urgh- enough," Leo groaned, interrupting himself with a gag, "hurts."

"Sorry," Jon eased his hold, kissing Leo's shoulder, "do you feel better?"

"No," the blonde breathed out slowly, trying to calm his body, "I- Stop touching me, just-" he shuffled in the bed, overwhelmed and Jonah pulled back, biting the inside of his cheek not to say anything. He wanted nothing more than to be all over Leo, but it wouldn't help at the moment.

He watched as Leo moved to rest against the headboard, still clutching the bowl, and closed his eyes, looking at the ceiling as his cheeks puffed out with slow breaths.

Jonah started peeling on his lip, ready to jump in case it looked Leo needed help. Instead the blonde only stayed quite like a wax statue for good five minutes, before leaning carefully over the bowl and gulping down, until a big burp came up.

Leo looked so spooked by it, that Jonah couldn't help but chuckle, "you good?"

"Oof, yeah," Leo cringed, "that was gross, sorry. I'm gonna go clean this out..."

"You think you can handle some tea?" Jonah got up as well and Leo made a squeamish face, but nodded.

"Peppermint."

"Alright," Jon stood up and leaned in without thinking, kissing the top of his head, and hesitated only once he was already half hugging the man, "sorry-"

"No, it's fine," Leo, who was still sitting down, buried his face against Jon's stomach, "you're so comfy."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," then Leo pulled back with a small smirk, "but not as comfy as Luke, though."

"Oh god, fuck off, Wagner," Jonah glared at him, shoving Leo's head and jumping out of his hold to go make him tea. As he was stomping out the room though, he could hear Leo giggling as he went to the bathroom to clean up, and Jonah had to fight a smile of his own.