#i kept writing a sentence and deleting it and writing and deleting and that went on for hours of 0 words

[brickmvster]

An Old Flame (Leon Kennedy x Reader)

Synopsis: After getting hammered at a club in attempts to repair a broken heart, in your drunken stupor, you call the one person you were trying to get over. He takes you back to his place, taking care of you, and it's then you realize that your feelings for him never quite dissipated.

Tags: breaking up and making up/exes to lovers, angst, fluff, a little bit of emotional hurt/comfort that goes both ways, reconciliation

Warnings: Drinking, mentions of alcohol consumption

Word Count: 6,309

Author's Note: I'm alive 😭 writer's block sucks, but I'm slowly getting back into the swing of things, I think. I hope you guys enjoy this!! Notes and reblogs are appreciated of course. This has been proofread, but if any mistakes still managed to slip by me, apologies in advance, they're all mine.

I imagined RE4R Leon while writing this but please feel free to imagine any version of him you'd like!

(Read on AO3)

Sobbing in a dirty bathroom stall was definitely not how you envisioned your Friday night going.

The fact that you were also considerably drunk and could feel the liquid sloshing around inside of your belly, threatening to come up your throat and all over the floor, certainly didn't make matters any better.

You had come to the club with a group of friends who were all far more enthusiastic than you to be there. You never considered yourself much of a party person; and if you were going to attend a party, it was always a small one with people that you knew or were at least acquaintances with. At a dingy nightclub, you were surrounded by hundreds of sweaty strangers, and the music was so loud that you were sure you were going to be temporarily deaf for a while. To make the long story short – you weren't looking forward to coming here, but you regrettably let your friends drag you out of the comfort of your home.

The stupid leather pants your friends insisted you wore were feeling too tight. The bathroom was so stuffy and unbearably hot. There were two individuals in the stall next to you engaging in… a certain activity that you really didn't want to be around to hear. And the awful, terrible smell of puke was probably one of the worst things you've ever smelled in your entire life. It was all too much, every single one of your five senses being mercilessly attacked.

You shouldn't have let yourself get wasted; you knew that, and you mentally cursed yourself for such reckless behavior. But the longer you sat at the bar, completely by yourself and with your friends nowhere in sight, it was like no one was there to stop you. You still missed him and you thought alcohol would be better at numbing the pain than a tub of ice cream. Both were terrible items for getting over a heartbreak because they both only made you want to vomit, which is something you always learned the hard way.

That's how you ended up in a stall, tears freely running down your cheeks in a drunken haze. Your friends were on your mind, but more than anything you just wanted to be carried out of here. You grabbed your phone out of your bag and opened up your contacts. But for some reason, instead of clicking on one of your friend's names, you kept scrolling further down, subconsciously searching for that specific name that you knew you should've just deleted a long time ago.

You clicked on the little phone icon, and listened attentively to the ringing on the other end. It rang and rang and rang, and it went on for so long that it almost snapped you out of the very stupid thing you were doing, but then–

"Hello?"

Leon actually answered. And even after all this time, his voice was still the most soothing sound in the world. You cleared your throat before attempting to put together a sentence in response.

"Hey… I'm… I'm, uh, in a gross bathroom at, um… fuck, what was the name of this place…" you trailed off, your cheeks heating up out of embarrassment. You rubbed your forehead, trying to think despite how hard it was to do.

Leon was silent for a bit on the other end before speaking up.

"___? Are you okay? It's… really late."

You chuckled, a burp coming out alongside the sound. "I know, right? What the fuck am I even doing here?"

"___, listen to me. Are you alright? Why did you call?" Leon asked. You could just faintly hear shuffling on the other end, and the unmistakable sound of keys jingling, as if he was already gathering his things before you even told him the location. Your heart fluttered at that and even more warmth was sent to your cheeks.

"No. No, I'm not alright. I feel really fucking sick right now and I don't know where my friends are and I fucking hate being here and-"

"Slow down, sweetheart," Leon said. If the alcohol didn't kill you, the pet name that Leon apparently still liked using for you would.

Leon fell quiet on the line, almost as if suddenly realizing the word that had slipped from his mouth.

"Sorry, I mean– look, tell me where you are. Do you want me to come and get you?"

There was a voice in your head screaming at you to just say no. Your friends were a text message away. If they saw the state you were in they'd take you home in a heartbeat. You knew the right thing to do was apologize to Leon, hang up, and get your ass out of the bathroom stall to find your group. But the alcohol was clouding your judgment, and the rational part of you simply didn't exist right now. Going back to Leon's apartment was like reopening a wound that had just healed. But you couldn't deny how much you needed him in this moment, no matter how pathetic it sounded. He had been on your mind the entire time you were at the club, and hell, even if you had been sober you probably would have ended up back at his place anyway. Because you simply didn't know how to stay away from things that you walked away from.

"Yes. Please come and get me." You replied softly, your words shaky with sorrow and guilt, your voice cracking.

"On my way. Stay put, okay?"

____

"___?"

Your eyes opened slowly. The side of your mouth felt wet with drool. Your brows furrowed as you took in your surroundings.

"___, are you in here?"

Your eyes widened a bit more upon registering whose voice was calling for you. You immediately sat up, trying to adjust your hair and straighten your shirt – before quickly giving up, because you knew no amount of adjusting would make you look like less of a hot mess.

"In here," you called out, not bothering to get up and open the door as your legs felt like they didn't work and any small movement would've caused you to expel your breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

You saw two feet stop right in front of the door. You recognized those boots anywhere. They were your favorite pair.

"Are you… decent? Can I open the door?" Leon asked. You nodded, before quickly realizing he can't hear the movement of your head.

"Yeah," you replied weakly. Leon did just that, opening the stall door slowly.

God, you wanted the ground to swallow you up right then and there. You knew you looked terrible, disgusting even. Your ex, on the other hand, still looked as gorgeous as ever, with his dirty blonde hair slightly longer than the last time you saw it and prettily falling into his deep blue eyes. He was wearing a form fitting black shirt that left nothing to the imagination with a pair of blue jeans and his expensive brown coat.

You averted your gaze out of pure embarrassment. Leon had never seen you in this state and you wish he hadn't. You wished you could turn back time and call your friends instead of him.

Leon kneeled in front of you in the cramped space, gently lifting your chin and making you look him in the eyes. The action only made you feel smaller.

"Hey, let me see you," he started, his gaze softening as he observed you.

"What happened? Nobody-" his jaw clenched. "Nobody did anything to you, right?"

You shook your head. You didn't trust your voice enough to speak.

"Okay, good. You just drank too much?"

You nodded that time.

Leon seemed physically relieved, his shoulders relaxing a bit as he stood back up. He held out his hand.

"Can you stand?" He asked. You muttered out something that sounded like a "yes," taking his hand and slowly rising off the toilet seat. You almost toppled over, but Leon was there to steady you.

"Put your arm around my shoulder." He instructed, but he was already moving your arm for you. You gladly took ahold of his shoulder as his hand held your wrist; his other arm was wrapped around your waist, holding you firmly. The two of you walked out of the bathroom together, ignoring the stares from other club goers.

The both of you made outside, and the cool air was a pleasant sensation to your extremely warm body. Leon helped you into your car, handling you like you were made of glass, before getting into the driver's side himself. He buckled you up first, leaning over you to pull the strap across your chest. His breath was fanning across your face, and you felt your heart rate skyrocket. You gazed at him with tired eyes, and he returned the eye contact briefly, his eyes mostly unreadable, but definitely filled with concern no less.

Once he was buckled up himself, he took off, and you just closed your eyes, hoping and praying that the motion of the car wouldn't cause any sudden hurling.

The car ride was mostly silent; aside from the radio that Leon had turned up slightly, playing some rock song, you were far too exhausted to say anything. You didn't even know what to say, anyway, and it seemed like Leon didn't either.

Eventually, when he stopped at a light, he spoke for the first time in several long minutes. "Your friends – did they abandon you?"

You shook your head. "No… I was the one who split from them. Told them I wanted to be alone."

"But they didn't even check on you?"

You glanced at him and noticed his tense jaw had returned, and his grip on the steering wheel tightened.

"They're all probably shit-faced, too." You replied dryly.

Leon sighed. "I… sure, I guess. Then that brings me to my next question… Why did you go over your limit? You could've put yourself in danger."

You shrugged, gazing out the window.

"I really don't know," you lied.

"God, ___, don't do something like this again. Please." Leon replied.

"I'm… sorry." You said. What you were apologizing for exactly, you weren't sure. For worrying him? For making him come all the way out here to save you like a damsel in distress? The more you thought about it, the more you leaned toward all of the above.

Leon seemed to relax again upon hearing your soft-spoken apology. "There's no need for that, I just…" a sigh. "You should rest. We're almost home."

Home.

You let your eyes slowly drift closed again. The last thing you saw was the sight of Leon driving with one hand, still wearing that unreadable expression.

____

Leon was quick to help you out the car after finding a parking spot. He guided you up the steps to the second floor of the complex, walking to his door. You leaned against him while he fiddled with his keys.

He eventually got the door open, helping you walk through the door. As he walked you through his living room to the bathroom, rather slowly as your feet were slightly dragging across the floor, you took in the familiar space around you. Leon's apartment was, of course, just how you remembered it. He had few decorations, most of them put up by you. His raggedy, but deceptively comfortable couch was somehow still standing strong. His place looked well lived-in; not terribly disorganized, just slightly cluttered. Given the nature of his career and how often he was away, he was never home long enough to let huge messes pile up anyway. You felt a smile tug at your lips as memories crawled back into your mind.

You remembered shopping with Leon for his decorations shortly after you moved in. He pretended to be indifferent, but you'll never forget the grin on his face as he helped you hang up some abstract paintings with poorly hidden amusement. That very couch was often where you spent your time resting your head on Leon's shoulders, or sometimes his head on your lap. The kitchen was where you and Leon made huge messes together, doing more kissing than cooking.

But your smile slightly faded as memories of the tail end of your relationship tainted your mind. Waiting alone for Leon to return home for a mission, worrying yourself sick. Sometimes Leon was distant, going from attentive and caring to cold and unresponsive in a heartbeat. You knew his trauma made it difficult for him to be fully present in the relationship – but sometimes you acted harshly anyway, both out of frustration and out of concern. His career was eating away at you, too.

The sound of running water pulled you out of your thoughts. You quickly registered that Leon had sat you down on his toilet. After wetting a washcloth, he leaned down in front of you again.

"I'm just gonna wipe your face, alright?" He said. You nodded, closing your eyes.

Leon wiped your face with the washcloth ever so gently, dabbing away dried drool and removing the light sweat that had formed across your forehead. He even went as far as to brush your teeth for you, thoroughly reaching every inch of your mouth to the best of his ability. Somehow, even during this, you found yourself dozing off a few times.

"You don't have to wash up now if you're too tired." Leon said once he had finished a portion of your nighttime routine for you. He stood in front of you while you were still seated, waiting for your next move.

You wanted nothing more than to wish the stink of the nightclub off your skin, but your eyelids were getting heavier by the second.

"Take me to bed, Leon." You muttered, wrapping your hands around his waist and leaning against his torso.

Leon found himself grinning at how much of a koala you became when sleepy and drunk. With one hand, he played with your hair for a bit as you continued holding him. You sighed contently as you felt yourself slip away in the sensation. Leon looked down at you, feeling something tug at his heart strings at how vulnerable you looked like this. The warmth from your arms around his waist brought Leon to a painful realization – that he missed your touch more than he thought.

Leon tried to store that thought away. You'd be gone by the morning, right? He couldn't allow himself to open up to you after all this time. You had made the choice to walk away and as far as he knew, you hadn't changed your mind.

He gently tapped your arms, causing you to stir a bit.

"If you want me to take you to bed, you have to get up first." He said teasingly. You groaned, but reluctantly did what he asked. Even while standing, your eyes were barely open.

"Do you wanna change?” He asked.

“Into what?” You said sleepily, words slurring together.

“I can give you one of my shirts and a pair of my pants. I don't mind.”

You just nodded, leaning into Leon's side, your head falling onto his shoulder.

Leon walked you to his bedroom, grabbing some clothes for you as you stood there patiently, your eyes half open. He gave you an old shirt of his and some gray sweatpants.

You began stepping out of your gross nightclub clothes right in front of Leon, who didn't seem to mind – he helped keep you from stumbling as you got dressed.

“This is so much better.” You said, feeling free and unconstrained now that you were out of those awful leather pants. Leon found himself holding back a grin at the way you were happily rubbing at the fabric of his shirt.

“Let's get you to bed.” He spoke.

He assisted you in getting cozy under the large comforter, even going as far as to tuck you in.

Leon's scent washed over you as you sunk into the softness of his mattress. You almost instantly succumbed to slumber, subconsciously burying your head into Leon's pillow.

For a long time, Leon just stared.

You were safe now, finally out of that awful nightclub and resting comfortably. He felt the tension leave his body, and he could finally go about his nightly routine at ease knowing you were taken care of.

Seeing you in his bed like this reminded him of the nights he came home late. Those nights, he'd crawl into bed next to you, holding you close as if you'd disappear into thin air. Strangely, despite the fact that he was looking directly at you, this was another moment where he felt like you'd cease to exist if he so much as looked away.

But he eventually forced himself to look away, sighing to himself as he went back to the bathroom to freshen up himself. He decided to sleep on the couch, falling asleep with you in his mind and still feeling the phantom touch of your arms around his waist.

____

Upon slowly opening your eyes, squinting slightly at the sunlight filtering through the room, it didn't take you long to notice the splitting headache that pulsated uncomfortably right behind your eyes. You also took note of the fact that you were clad in Leon's clothing.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, your face bunching up in pain at your awful hangover. You were mentally chastising yourself, as you knew that this terrible headache could've been easily avoided had you not gone past your limit the night before. It was at the moment, as you were lying on your back and staring at the familiar sight of Leon's apartment ceiling, that all of the memories from last night came rushing back to you.

You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, feeling a sense of shame wash over you. You barely remember anything from last night, but you knew that when you were shit-faced you turned into a giant child, and you were already feeling apologetic for putting Leon through your drunken antics. You didn't even want to get out of bed and face the man.

So, you did just that; you lied there for a few extra minutes, absolutely dreading the moment when you would have to get up eventually. You sighed, rolling over on your side, facing the closed bedroom door. It was then that you noticed the tall glass of water and bottle of painkillers on the bedside table.

You sat up slowly, feeling your heart warm at Leon's thoughtfulness. You took one pill from the bottle, swallowing it down in one large gulp of water.

You also noticed your phone on the table. Curiously, you checked to see if your phone was even alive – which it was, much to your surprise, but the battery was low. You saw numerous text messages from your acquaintances last night. Some of them were just talking about how much fun they had and thanking you for coming out. Others seem concerned about where you had gone. You didn't feel like replying to any of them, so you promptly shut your phone off. You needed to save your battery, anyway, as you didn't have a charger. You left your phone in its place on the table.

You sat in Leon's bed for a little longer after that, sighing to yourself, before getting up to go find where he was.

You didn't have to look very far after opening the door; there Leon stood in the kitchen, occupied with making breakfast. It seemed like he didn't notice your presence at first, so you took that opportunity to gaze at him, grinning softly at the concentrated look on his face as he flipped over a pancake, his hair falling into his eyes. He looked cuter than ever, clad in his well-loved plaid pajama pants and a loose black shirt. It felt strange, seeing him like this again after so many months.

“Morning, sleepyhead.” Leon suddenly spoke, still turned away from you. You were slightly startled, quickly averting your gaze.

“Morning,” you said softly. “Did you know I was standing here the whole time?”

“Of course I did,” Leon replied, finally turning to you with a pretty smile on his face, one that you couldn't help but immediately return. “Government training helped me with my awareness, y'know.”

You chuckled at that, making your way over to the dining table and taking a seat. Resting your chin in your hand, you watched Leon lovingly, a comfortable silence settling between you.

“Need a hand with anything?” you asked.

“Nah, it's alright. I'm almost done, anyway.” Leon replied. “By the way, how did you sleep?”

“Like a baby. I forgot how comfortable your bed was.” you said.

Leon grinned. “That's good. And your head?”

“It's feeling better. Thanks for the medicine, by the way.”

“Of course.” Leon replied.

Eventually, he carried to the table two plates of food, along with two tall glasses of orange juice. It was a simple breakfast, consisting of just pancakes, but it was totally fine by you. They looked fluffy and perfectly cooked and you didn't hesitate to dive in.

Leon just watched you eat in silence, a small grin on his face as he watched you do a little happy dance upon taking a bite. He wasn't really showing it, but he was very pleased with himself; not just because he made you a decent plate of pancakes but because you were here with him, out of that grimy nightclub, content and being taken care of. Leon felt a tug at his heartstrings as he realized just how much he missed taking care of you.

“Leon. Are you gonna eat?” you said with a chuckle, nearly done with your food. Leon seemed to snap out of whatever trance you had put him in, quickly glancing at his untouched plate of food.

“Yeah. Sorry.” He said in a slightly bashful way that made you swoon. He finally had begun eating, thoughtfully chewing, taking his time.

You leaned back in your chair, feeling completely satiated. For a while, the two of you just sat in comfortable silence. It dawned on you that eventually you'd have to leave, sadness beginning to wash over you like waves.

“What's the matter?” Leon suddenly spoke. “Be honest, were the pancakes actually terrible?” He said jokingly. That got you smiling again, and you let out a small, half-hearted laugh.

“Leon, they were fucking amazing,” you replied sincerely. You smiled then faltered a bit. “I just… I still feel bad.”

Leon, who was also sitting lax in his chair, had straightened up, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as he gazed warmly at you.

“About?” He inquired.

You sighed, looking down at your lap. Suddenly eye contact was too much right now.

“For last night. I know I've already apologized but… seriously, I'm really sorry for making you drive all the way out there. And for worrying you.”

Leon shook his head, looking at you with an expression that could only be read as sympathetic.

“I've said it before and I'll say it again – you don't have to apologize, okay? If anything, I'm glad you called me. It meant that you trusted me to ensure your safety; and that made me feel good.”

You felt your heart warm at that. You continued to stare down at your lap, twiddling your thumbs, still hesitant to let him into your gaze.

“Can you look at me? Please?” Leon said ever so softly. The gentle, almost desperate tone of voice was enough to get you to finally raise your head and meet his eyes.

“There you are,” he said fondly. “I want you to know that you can always call me. For anything. And if you need me, I'll be there. We're not… together anymore but that doesn't mean I'm just gonna step out of your life, okay? I still care about you. Always will.”

You were effectively silenced, so deeply touched by Leon's words that you couldn't even produce any of your own. Suddenly your vision began to blur and your bottom lip was quivering.

Your friends – really, just your co-workers – who had practically forgotten about you at that club? They probably didn't care about you all like they claimed to. But if there was one person that would always stand up for you, help you, tend to your needs – it was Leon. It had always been him.

With a shaky voice, you responded, “Thank you, Leon. I… still care about you, too. So much. I totally owe you after last night.” you said with a playful smile, although you were honestly very serious.

“No, it's okay. You don't owe me anything. I was just doing what a good friend is supposed to do.”

Friend.

You brushed the word off, ignoring the pang of disappointment that hit you. You simply smiled at him.

Clearing your throat, you started another topic. “So, um… I guess since I'm here, we should catch up a bit. It's been so long since I've last spoken to you.”

Leon shrugged. “Honestly? I don't have much to catch you up on. I've just been doing what I always do, lounging around, working, occasionally going out with Claire and Chris. You know me, I'm a boring guy.”

“You are not at all boring, Kennedy,” you said teasingly.

“You know, it's okay to admit it.” He replied, and you could only shake your head, laughing quietly to yourself.

“You're literally a government agent. That's the opposite of boring.”

“Well, what a lot of people don't know is that being a government agent also comes with a shit-ton of paperwork.”

“I suppose,” you said with a completely playful roll of your eyes. “Anyway, Claire and her brother doing well?”

“They're doing great. They're always asking about you.”

You felt guilt begin to rear its ugly head at Leon's comment. “I haven't spoken to them in a while too… God, I'm terrible.” You said.

“Hey, don't make it a huge deal. They know how busy you are. They still care about you too. You could go a thousand years without speaking to them and they'd still be excited to hear from you.”

“That's nice to know.” You replied. You made it a mental note to get in contact with them soon.

The dining table fell quiet again. There was this undeniable tension in the air, one that the two of you couldn't shake. As much as you hated to admit it, you had missed sitting at Leon's dining table, sitting across from him specifically, sharing peaceful mornings together. You knew that eventually you'd have to leave; you'd part ways with Leon once more. You wish you could say that'd be easy to do.

Leon pulled you out of the recesses of your mind when he suddenly stood up, grabbing the two plates and cups. You silently watched as he went over to the sink, turning on the faucet.

Without even thinking, you stood up as well, joining him in the kitchen.

“Let me help you,” you said, not even giving him the choice.

Leon shook his head, like you knew he would. “It's alright, I got it. I know you've probably got things to do, so I understand if you need to go-”

“Things to do? Like what?” You interrupted with a playful grin. “I want to help, Leon, please.”

“It's only a few dishes.”

“I know– look, stop being so stubborn and let me help. Please.” You said, taking a plate out of his hand and grabbing a washcloth to help with drying. Leon just chuckled, having paused his washing for a bit to admire you.

“You haven't changed.” He spoke.

“What do you mean?” You asked as you put the plate back in its respective cabinet. You didn't even need to ask where it went – it was muscle memory for you.

“I mean… always wanting to help with stuff. It's what I've always liked about you.” Leon replied, handing you a newly washed cup. You took it, slowly, still processing his words. You felt a certain warmth throughout your body, trying to distract yourself from the feeling by rather furiously drying the glass.

“That's just how I am. Can't help it.” You replied shyly, your voice coming out small.

“I know. You should consider being an agent since you like helping so much.” Leon teased. You were putting the glass up when he had said that and weren't looking directly at him, but you could hear the smirk in his voice. It made you smile.

“Absolutely not.” You replied immediately, to which the both of you broke out into laughter, the sound filling the kitchen.

The two of you finished doing the dishes fairly quickly, falling into an easy rhythm. It all felt too familiar. The both of you fell into your usual banter so easily, and it was almost like you two hadn't just spent months apart.

You ended up helping Leon clean his entire kitchen after the dishes, chatting with him every second and moving around each other with the sort of ease you can only get when you've spent enough time in one place to memorize everything. You told Leon that you didn't mind helping him knock out a few chores, which was true; you knew how busy he was and how he was usually too tired to take care of things like this himself. But deep down, the true reason why you were still here was because you just didn't want to leave. But you kept that part buried within you. It was difficult coming to terms with what that meant and you didn't want to think about it.

“Does anything else need tidying?” You asked him once you finished wiping the kitchen counter. Leon looked around, seemingly thinking for a moment, before shaking his head.

“Nah, it's all good. But I appreciate it.”

Your grin faltered a bit. You knew you had to go. You had been here for hours now.

“Ah, okay,” you said, trying to hide the dejection in your voice. “Well, um… I guess I should get out of your hair then.”

Leon perked up at that. “You don't have to leave.” He said quickly. He then cleared his throat, looking away. “I mean, uh– if you don't want to, you can stay as long as you want.”

You wanted to more than anything else. But the right thing would be to leave, even though that went against your heart's desires. Who knows what you'd end up saying– or doing– if you stayed. Whatever it'd be, you'd probably regret it.

“I should really go.” You said quietly. Leon just silently nodded. His expression was unreadable yet again.

After making sure you had all your belongings, and unfortunately having to change back into your cursed club outfit for the time being, you now stood in front of the door. Leon had changed out of his pajamas too, looking as handsome as ever in a simple pair of jeans, a black shirt, and boots.

Since your friends had driven you to the club, and Leon drove you to his place, he'd have to drive you back. You were waiting for him after he had said he had to find his keys. You took one long, final glance around his house as you stood there with a heavy heart.

Quite a bit of time had passed, though, and you were about to call out to Leon, as you noticed he seemed to be taking longer than you expected. You figured he just needed help searching for his keys, so you jogged over to his bedroom, where you saw him enter.

When you walked in, he was kneeling in front of a cardboard box. His closet door was open, so you presumed that's where the box came from. Your brows pinched together in confusion.

“Leon? I can help with finding your keys-”

“Oh, I have my keys. I just, um… suddenly remembered something.” He said, a bit cryptically.

You were still visibly puzzled. “Remembered what?” you asked, walking a bit closer to see the contents of the box. And then you realized.

In the box was some jewelry of yours, one of your shirts, and a bottle of perfume that you had forgotten at his home ages ago.

Your heart warmed at the fact that Leon kept them safe and tucked away in his closet, almost as if he was waiting for the day to return them to you.

“I completely forgot about these,” he said, standing up to face you. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry. I've been meaning to give these back.”

You just smiled, feeling so incredibly touched and endeared.

“It's okay, Leon. I didn't even realize I was missing these items.” You said with a chuckle. You kneeled down yourself, sifting through the contents of the box and reminiscing. The perfume especially reminded you of so many date nights and all the times Leon told you how nice you smelled.

“You know, that reminds me,” You began, feeling the cotton of your old, worn t-shirt that lay perfectly folded in the box. “I think I still have one of your sweatshirts. The old RPD one.”

You knew you did. It was still in your closet, hidden away. Not forgotten, just out of sight.

“You can keep it.” Leon said. “You looked better in it anyway.”

You felt that familiar heat rush to your face again. Even after all this time, his words still affected you.

“Well, um… thanks.” You replied.

“It's nothing.”

You stood up, holding the box, and the two of you walked back to the door. Every step felt heavier than the last.

You watched as Leon was about to open the door for you. But in that moment, as he was about to turn the knob, something within you snapped.

“Wait.” You said.

Leon paused, turning to look at you. “Did– did you forget something?” He asked.

You shook your head. You slowly put the box down on the floor, gently kicking it aside.

“I don't wanna leave, Leon.”

Leon still seemed perplexed. “I told you, you can stay as long as you-”

“No, I mean… I'm not leaving… again.”

It didn't take long for the realization to hit Leon. He was silent for a bit, unsure of how to proceed, or what to say.

“I need you to be more clear.” He said simply.

You stepped closer to him. You nearly reached your hand out, wanting to gently stroke his hair like you always used to do, but you weren't sure if he was ready to jump back into physical affection like that. You restrained yourself.

“I want to try again, Leon. I'm so sorry for how I treated you. At the time, I didn't understand your trauma – I failed to accommodate you. When I left… I realized how shitty I had been. How much I had missed you. I dated other people and none of them gave me what you did. You were too good to me and I was too selfish. I'm sorry, and I want you to know that I've grown. I will try my best to meet you where you are from now on if you just let me back in.”

You said all of this while staring directly into Leon's captivating eyes, sincerity in your tone and in the way you gazed at him. You hoped Leon could feel your guilt. Your remorse.

Leon just stared back, stunned into silence. You could tell his mind was racing, searching for what to say, processing everything you had told him. You were prepared for him to say no. You were bracing for the heartbreak. You wouldn't be upset, no. You'd be understanding. You were ready to leave for good if that's what he wanted.

But heartbreak isn't what you got.

“Thank you. For apologizing.” Leon said. “I should, too. I wasn't being totally honest about my line of work. And dating a government agent isn't necessarily an easy thing to handle. It was probably traumatic for you, too, seeing me come home so damaged, physically and mentally.

“And for the record, I don't think you were being selfish. You wanted to help, I know you did, you just didn't know how and it was frustrating.”

You felt a stinging sensation in your eyes, your emotions nearly meeting their boiling point, tears threatening to spill. Deep down, you didn't think Leon had anything to apologize for, considering everything he's been through and seen, but you were appreciative of his apology nonetheless. It warmed your heart to know that he never resented you when you were together, like you always thought he did.

“So… should we try this again?” you said, a playful glint in your watery eyes.

Leon grinned. “We should.”

At that, you couldn't hold back any longer. You went in for a hug, wrapping your arms around his neck snugly. He wasted no time in wrapping his around your waist. Being back in his arms again felt like a dream.

You brought a hand up to his hair, running your fingers through it. You felt Leon relax even more at the soft touch.

With your lips close to his ear, you whispered:

“I never stopped loving you.”

Leon pulled away a bit, his hands just lightly resting on your waist.

“Neither did I.”

A pause. You felt his breath fan across your face.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked, already grinning like a lovesick teenager.

“Please.” Was all Leon said before you leaned in, your lips finding purchase on top of his, bodies pressed close together.

You had a hunch that making yourself at home again wouldn't be difficult at all.

[raggedyflowers]

“When you try to rizz them up”

summary: one piece character reacting at you (trying) to rizz them up. it’s my first time writing smut so … don’t look at me I’m shy (may delete later)

character: Ace, Law, Sanji, Zoro x female reader

cr: NSFW 🔞, heavily flirting, suggestive words, semi public sex

Ace:

Drinking with Ace was not a smart idea ‘cause while the alcohol went directly on your brain, it seemed that Ace burned it as soon as it touched his lips. So it’s not a big surprise when at the end of the evening you were drunk, but he was perfectly fine. “So” you smirked at him, with a courage you usually didn’t have. “You catch fire only to the fist or even up the elbow?” it was such a dumb line that you should’ve feel embarrassed even if drunk, but Ace found it endearing. “You are so out your mind right now, y/n” he told you, helping you get to your room. “You make me out of my mind” you kept going, ignoring his laughter. “Whatever you say” he respond to you. “Usually I’m better at flirting” you mumble to yourself. “You’re going great, why don’t you try when your sober?” he asked you with a smirk, leavening you at the door at yours room without words. The next time you hanged out together, Ace kept an eye on you. “Try to remain sober this time, y/n” he winked at you. “I really wanna satisfy your curiosity”.

that night he did satisfy your curiosity… and not just that

you two found your way to Ace’s room and then he showed you how fast he can warm up the situation

He let you sit on his face and he spent the night eating you out

Law:

Your relationship with Law has always been private and even if someone could have said that he was cold with you, you know behind closed door Law was nothing but a loving and caring partner. It didn’t stop you to try to rizz him up in front of the rest of the Heart Pirates. You loved seeing him blushing, but most of all you loved what did come after. “You don’t need to use your devil fruit” you said to a confused Law. “You already have my heart”. You look satisfied the red cheek of your boyfriend who shock his head. “Why are you like that, y/n-ya?” he asked talking over the laughter of your crewmates. “Like what?” you asked innocently. “I just want you to shamble my organs with your dic —” you never finished the sentence since Law grabbed your arms and took you away.

“You already stopped being a brat, eh y/n-ya?” he asked after pinned you at the wall as soon as you two have entered in his room

You could’ve just bite your tongue for keeping your moans low

“Ah-ah” he said while slowly tracing your entrance with his tattooed fingers. “Don’t stop talking now. Let everyone hear you like before”

And then he push his fingers inside of you and you couldn’t do nothing but scream his name

Needles to say your organs were actually shambled that night

Sanji:

“You should wear the burgundy suit more often” you said to Sanji taking him aback. “Mmh?” he asked you, stopping cutting the vegetables. “I need something pretty to look at”. You always said things like that to him, joking mostly, but not entirely. And you loved seeing his cheek turning red after you called him pretty. “Move please, pretty boy” you said one day passing near to him and grabbing his waist to move him. “Y/n ~ ” he mumbled covered by your laugh. “Pretty, really?” he asked you and you cupped his check. “The prettiest” you said to him. “Not as pretty as you, my love” he told you back. “Wanna show me how much pretty you can be for me” you asked him with a mischievous smile.

he did show you how pretty he is

with his red cheek and sweet smile while he pounded into you

“you are the prettiest” he said you groping your breast while he kept his pace. “taking my cock so well”

but really he was the prettiest boys, especially when he lowered himself and started eating you out

Zoro:

One of your favourite activities on the Sunny was watching Zoro work out. You pretended to read a book but your eyes couldn’t help but to lingering on his sweaty body. “Your book is upside down” he said to you with a smirk. “Really?” you asked, without an ounce of shame. “Are you training on the forth swords styles?” Zoro looked at you with confusion. “You know, the other sword in your — ” you pointed at his pants. He smirked. “Wanna found out?” he smirked again.

he actually spent all night “practicing” with his forth sword

you never been more happy to indulge him

“do you like my sword style?” he asked you while keeping the brutal pace pounding into you

you wanted to say yes, but couldn’t form a single thought

[wosofutbolfan]

When Somebody Loved Me (Everything Was Beautiful)

Alexia Putellas x Reader

A story of a lifetime spent growing together. To what end?

Songfic

WC: 17k. Check TW inside.

TW: Bullying based on disability. Death of a parent. Angst. Grief.

Hi Guys.

This has sat in my drafts for months and inside my head for even longer. There is no part 2 planned. This is angsty with fluffy moments. Be warned.

I think we can all agree the most heart wrenching media moment of all time is Toy Story 2 and the below song.

If you don't agree. Move along this is not for you.

Reader calls Alexia, Alex throughout this fic. That's based on this video. Cause I have never heard someone refer to that and I thought it was cute. Alexia refers to R as 'Conejito' as a literal translation of bunny - I have since realised there's a more vulgar translation of this which I'm ignoring. Ha.

Spoiler Alert - This story deals with the death of a parent. Which I went back and forth on writing. Something about it still feels ick to me because these are real people. I may delete. Everything within is based on my own experience of parental loss. And it comes from no place of malace or weirdness.

This also deals with a severe speech impediment - which again, I do not suffer from myself but have experience with and hope I have done the struggle justice for anyone who may suffer.

My spanish is google translate because I am an ignorant English speaker. Apologies.

When somebody loved me Everything was beautiful Every hour we spent together Lives within my heart

It was raining on the day that you met her.

That was strange. For Barcelona. The rain.

You found yourself where you usually could be found, to anyone who would take notice. Which wasn’t anyone to your knowledge except for a few observant teachers. In the art room, in the back corner, working relentlessly at an easel that your favourite teacher would set up for you.

You had transferred into the school part way through term, and for the first few days as with most schools you were the new and shiny thing. At 12 a lot of the kids in school had known each other since birth and you were new fresh blood to entertain them.

That didn’t last too long though when they realised you weren’t actually that interesting.

Shy and quiet as you always had been, you kept yourself to yourself. Its not that you didn’t want to make friends. You did. You so desperately did. But you just didn’t know how.

You had a stutter. That never helped. Kids could be cruel. And with the move from your hometown to Mollet for your mum's job it had only gotten worse. 

Words felt like lead in your mouth, your jaw felt tight and you struggled to get your words out. They stuck in your throat and refused to move from there. 

The teachers were kind. Your peers were not. Your speech therapist was helping. You spent more time than any 12 year old should thinking about sentence structure and breathing techniques.

You knew your parents worried about you. Waiting for you to get home from school every day with worried glances and eager smiles; “Did you make any friends today niña?” your dad would ask, pretending to be casual, flicking through some book or another. “Not today Papi.” You would reply, never wanting to lie to your family, before happily jumping the couch next to him and starting to scribble in your notebook.

“Maybe tomorrow niña. There is always tomorrow”.

Well. Turns out dads are clever.

Because there was always tomorrow. And on an unusually rainy day for Mollet tomorrow came.

“Putellas!! Get back here! Pute-...”

The door to the art room quickly opened and slammed closed. The noise jolts you out of your peaceful reverie. A tall brunette girl smashed her back against the door and a hand quickly flicked out to turn the lights off to the room.

She clearly hadn’t noticed you huddled in the corner as she slid down the door onto her butt. Closing her eyes she let out a deep sigh and rested her forehead on her knees.

You didn't know what to do.

You knew who she was. Of course you did. She was Alexia Putellas.

The Alexia Putellas. Futbol superstar. Well… the 12 year old playground version of that. The coolest girl in school. She oozes confidence. Was always surrounded by a gaggle of your peers. Never without a ball at her feet or in her hands. But she hadn’t noticed you. Arm still raised working on the canvas in front of you, vision now impeded by the dark she had forced onto the room by turning the light off. You froze. Mouth slightly agape and hand starting to sweat. You watched as she rocked her forehead side to side on her knees. Your arm became tired in its upright position and the noise of you plopping the brush back into the water jar seemed to jolt her out of her stupor. Her neck snapped up and you met her wide, hazel eyes that bore into you. “Oh! Lo siento, I didn’t… I didn’t know anyone else was in here.” She was met with silence. Your stutter affected you terribly on a good day. Nevermind your safehaven suddenly being invaded by the coolest girl in school. Who you had idolised from afar since arriving in Mollet. Her head tilted curiously as she took you in. You felt her eyes drift to the canvas behind you. “Did you paint that?” She stands to her full height, still keeping her distance from you. “Why are you painting in the dark…?” She asks curiously. Head still tilted. Faced with a direct question you couldn’t put it off any longer. You couldn’t delay the inevitable. “Y..y…you, tu…tu….switched off….” Changing the words you intended to use halfway through was a coping mechanism that your therapist had tried to get you to work out of your system. She called it masking. You called it getting by. You raise your hand and point to the lightswitch that she had flicked when she entered the room. She looks at you harder now. You feel her eyes boring into you and wait for the inevitable laughter. The pity. Maybe even the cruelty that you are used to when people hear you speak. You cast your eyes down, waiting for the blow. But you just hear a flick of a switch, and the darkness behind your eyelids lifting. “I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have switched it off if I had known. I was just trying to get away. I kicked a football at Senorita Lopez by accident in the gym. They won’t let me play outside in the rain. Idiotas” You lift your eyes at her gentle, lilting tone as a smile teases your lips. She's moved closer to you now. “You didn’t answer. Did you paint this?” Her hand comes out to hover over the lines of your still-wet painting. Carefully. Again, you’ve been asked a direct question. “Si.” you reply, quietly. You don’t struggle so much with single words. “By yourself?” she asked, aghast, wonder taking over her features. You nod in reply. “This is so cool! Show me!” A grin overtakes your features as you nod more enthusiastically. Glasses slipping down your nose. Pulling out a fresh canvas for your new friend. “Lo siento, I haven’t told you my name. My Papa says it's rude not to introduce myself…” she stands tall and thrusts out her hand. Very formally. Very practised. “I am Alexia Putellas Segura.” You pause for a moment, looking at her outstretched hand. You wipe your clammy hands on your jeans. And shake her hand. “A…A…” you grow frustrated with yourself, the words getting stuck in your throat. You pull your hand away but Alexia keeps her grip firm and nods at you encouragingly. “Al…Alex… Alex.” you give up. Eyes downcast. Maybe you can tell your papa you nearly made a friend today. “Alex! Cool! I’ve never had that nickname! Most people call me Ale. But it can be our thing. I know you, you are y/n I remember Senora Perez making you stand at the front of class. Show me how to paint! Please? ”  Alexia was not a good painter. She quickly got bored and distracted by the newspaper on the desk intended for a paper mache project which she screwed up together, fashioned into a football and then spent the rest of the wet lunchtime kicking around the art room aiming for various targets that she would shout out to you. 

You dutifully cheered at every successful hit of the target. That night as you climbed onto the couch next to your papa and he asked; “Did you make any friends today niña?”. You couldn’t wait to reply; “Si! Alex.” You missed the way his newspaper dropped ever so slightly, and he caught the eye of your mami who was in the kitchen. “Ah, Si? Alex should come for dinner! We would love to welcome him!” He replied, his delight even obvious to you. “No tonta… Alex is a girl!” you let out. In that hilariously moody way only 12 year olds can. You became inseparable. Alexia was your best friend. Complete and total opposites. She would spend wet lunches in the art room with you. She would drag you to the playing fields after school and on break and you would be a goalie for her. Which was really just you standing complaining about where you found yourself and you dived away from balls as she cackled out a laugh. She came round for dinner with your family most nights. You spent every weekend at the Putellas household, travelling to her football games, strapped up next to Alba in the back of the Putellas family car, scribbling away in a notebook as you drew landscapes that you passed. On the way home you would sketch and sketch, only slightly hindered by the weight of your gangly best friend as she slept on your shoulder.  Your art would sit on both family fridges. Alex’s football boots would litter both entrance ways. Your mami would pick Alba up from the junior school if Eli got stuck at work. Joint family dinners were the norm.

Your relationship evolved through the years. Easily. Blissfully. You grew together. You became taller, however still paling in height compared to your best friend. You got braces and had them removed, You wore contacts most days now instead of your thick rimmed glasses. Though you still could usually be found in the art rooms.

Alexia filled out, she became less gangly and more strong, after years dedicated to football and training. 

Your speech improved. Your stammer only comes out rarely and you know your triggers. You worked hard every week with your speech therapist but you always credited Alexia. She gave you confidence. 

No one at school would roll their eyes or laugh at you when Alexia was by your side. She didn’t rush you. She didn’t finish your sentences. Nothing was more formidable within your school walls than if Alexia had found out someone had made fun of you, or not been patient with you. She got in trouble countless times defending your honor. Even if the teachers hated punishing her for it. 

You maybe realised on some level that you were as important to Alexia as she was to you the day that caused her to miss the U15 School Championship final. 

One of the more idiotic older basketball boys had caught you in the hallway. Trying to impress his gaggle of followers he had tripped you up as you were on your way scurrying into the art rooms to finish the sign you had made for Jaume to wave at the upcoming championship final. You had fallen flat on your face, quickly moving onto your back and pressing yourself against the wall. It had been a while due to Alexia's influence but you had dealt with bullies your entire life and you knew you had to just make yourself small and wait it out. “Oh s-s-s-s-s–s-s-oooorry it w-w-w-as an a-a-a-a-accident!!” the boy taunted you, leaning over you and exaggerating your stutter. 

His spittle hitting your face and making you wince. He brought himself to his full height, which was impressive for a 16 year old and turned to his friends. “Honestly, how is she even in this school, she is so estupida!” His guffaw was matched by his followers however their faces quickly dropped as they looked behind their ringleader. “What did you just say to her?” a cold, terse voice entered the conversation. You didn’t see his face drop but you could imagine it. 

He quickly turned and looked at Alexia standing in the doorway. Sunshine behind her darkening your view. As she stepped into the halfway you took in the thunderous look on her face. You don’t think you’ve ever seen her as angry. 

You barely recognised her. “I-i-i sai…” This time he wasn’t impersonating you. 

He knew he was fucked. She moved quicker than you had ever seen her move on the football pitch. The tall boys friends quickly scattered as she grabbed him by his shoulders. He may have had at least two foot of height difference on her but that quickly diminished to nothing as she kneed him squarely between the legs. He doubled over in pain as she landed blow after blow to his stomach. “Alex… stop.” you instructed, gathering yourself to your feet. 

Your voice cut through her rage and she immediately stopped her punches. He scurried off as soon as he was able to, no serious damage done apart from to his ego… and maybe his balls. She turned to face you after shouting some choice expletives to his back, face immediately morphing into one of concern, eyebrows furrowed as her hands cupped your face. “¿Estás bien?” She asked, seriously. Hands moving to check you over. 

“Si, Si, estoy bien.” you replied. “You shouldn’t have done that Alex.” you regarded her with sceptical eyes. 

Her brow furrowed further, “What should I have done then? He’s un maton, he hurt you. I taught him a lesson. I would do it again. I would. I am not sorry.” she said firmly as she moved your head beneath her chin and wrapped her strong arms around you. 

You tried to pretend that the butterflies in your stomach erupting at her protectiveness were a normal reaction to a friend. 

Right? She repeated the same platitudes the next day, but this time with Jaumes hand on her shoulder as she sat in the headmaster's office. The boy she had humiliated so happened to be the son of one of the school governors. The headmaster told the footballer and her father that if Alexia apologised to the boy then she would go unpunished, otherwise, he would be forced to stop any of her extra-curricular activities, including the interschool championship final. Which, as headmaster, he really didn't want to do when his school had their first chance of winning in over a decade. She refused. 

She was banned from playing.

The team lost. 

Badly. The guilt ate away at you as you both watched from the sidelines as the 5th goal against your team went in. 

She grasped your knee, and still watched the game. “Stop feeling guilty. I am still not sorry. There are more important things than football conejita.” 

You took a breath and placed your hand on top of hers. You turned to look at her incredulously. “I mean, very few. Football is still in the top 2. Food is 3.” she continued, deadpan. Forcing a laugh out of you. You asked her once, years after first meeting, one sleepover when you were both lying side by side on the Putellas trampoline looking up at the stars. Why was she so patient with you? When no one else was? She looked at you, dumbfounded, genuinely confused by the question. “You have a voice y/n. You deserve to be heard.” she replied. Moving into her favourite position which was pulling all of your weight completely on top of her. Your head rested over her heart. You could hear the thump thump thump against your ear. You hoped she couldn’t feel the fluttering of yours.  

It was that simple to her. “Plus you looked like a rabbit in the headlights when I barged in, you were too cute. Mi pequeña coneja”.

Your Alex. 

You transitioned from best friends into girlfriends at 16 with no fanfare. A shy kiss after a win at Alexia's latest championship sealed it. Her grin splitting her face. Yours matching when you realised your dreams could become a reality. Hands held tentatively in the backseat of Jaumes car as he smiled at the scene through his rear view mirror.  Days later, as you both stood in front of your mami and papi shyly holding hands you realised, squeezing the trembling hand in yours, that it was the first time you had seen Alex nervous. In all of your years of friendship.

Alexia still had her weirdly formal streak, the same as the day you met her, so you let her do what she felt she needed to.

“Senor y Senora y/l/n… “ she started, taking a breath. “Mi and y/f/n…”

Your parents caught your eye, dumbfounded. She never used their titles. They rarely heard her use your name. You were always conejito.

“Alexia… estimada…” your mami started, with kind eyes. You could tell she knew what was coming. You shook your head at her slightly, Alexia too caught up in her own moment to notice. Your mami let her speak.

“Mi and y/f/n…”

Your papi, however, was not as emotionally in tune as your mami, “Monito, what is going on? Why are you being muy loca? Have you got mi mija pregnant? I know you're an overachiever bu…” “Papi!” you screeched out, interrupting him. 

Alex stood mouth agape, face flushed as she looked to you for help. “Papi, Mami, Alex is tr…try…tryi… telling you that we’re together together.” you let out, raising your joined hands. Your mami let out a laugh behind her hands, your papi however stood and exclaimed, “Was that some sort of secret!? Dios Mio of course you are! We thought you had been for years!  You made me change your bedtime story from princesses to football-playing princesses on the day you met!  Why do you think your Mami makes you keep your door open when this one stays, Mija?” 

Now it's your turn to blush as your mouth drops open. As he passes Alexia he gently smacks her upside the head, ruffling her long brunette hair. “Now come on cabeza de bola, me and the guys from work are starting a 5 a side. I need your help on penalties…” You huff out a laugh as your girlfriend is dragged away, confused look stuck on her face - eyebrows adorably drawn and mouth furrowed and clinging to your hand until distance forces her to let go. 

Your mami settles her arm across your shoulders. “I’m happy for you Mija” she mutters, in her gentle tone as you fall into her embrace. “You’re going to marry that girl one day.” Even after everything that would happen and the hell you would feel, you thank God for the unseasonal rain in Barcelona that day in junior school.

And when she was sadI was there to dry her tearsAnd when she was happy, so was IWhen she loved me It wasn’t long after you made your relationship official that you had your first real test.

You knew something was wrong with your girlfriend probably before she did. You knew her like the back of your hand. Though it finally came to a head one early evening at the Putellas household.

You had both picked Alba up from school, and you had set out to making dinner in the Putellas kitchen whilst Alexia's parents were both stuck at work.

It was standard practice, occurring at least once a week. You moved through the kitchen with ease. The ease is what alerted you.

Usually, on nights like these, Alba would huff off to her room like any other pubescent teenager, head stuck in her phone and earphones firmly in place. Alexia however, would usually be found attached to your back, arms wrapped around you as you cooked, or sat at the breakfast bar, swiping chopped veggies til you hit her with a spoon to make her stop, rolling your eyes as she insisted she was a growing girl and she needed the extra.

No, this was too easy, you thought, as you moved around, you missed your big inconvenience in the kitchen and you made sure your pasta sauce was bubbling nicely and went to search for her. 

You find her in the living room, her large frame draped over the sofa, eyes mindlessly watching the TV. But you can tell she isn’t watching whatever is on. Ale isn’t a big TV-watcher. She's very rarely sitting still for long enough to concentrate. The exception being if you're in her lap, where she entertains herself by playing with your hair or tracing the lines on your palm. “Hey, amor, estás bien?” your voice brings her out of her thoughts, “Ey? Ah sí conejito, lo siento, is dinner ready?” she asks, making to stand, but being stopped by your hand on her shoulder.  “Ay, when did I become the hired help, ey?” you ask, trying to tease a smile out of your girlfriend. “Dinner will be ready soon. Tell me what's on your mind.” The thing about Alex is she’s an open book. People may think she is stern and serious but she wears her heart on her sleeve. You can always see her thoughts plainly on her face, so you know something troubling her. She knows she can’t hide it from you, so she doesn’t try. “I’ve been offered a professional contract.” She states, plainley. Your heart lifts for her. Your whole life Alexia has bled football. For many years she believed, and you did too though you would never admit it, that it wouldn't be possible to make a career from the sport. You don’t think you have ever seen Alexia as sad as when she aged out of the Barcelona FC teams. She was devastated. It was a harsh reminder that Spain wasn't the USA. The opportunities are not always available. But the thing you loved most about Alexia was her dogged determinedness. She would train in the morning, in the afternoon, between classes. You are overjoyed that all of that hard work has paid off. Something wasn’t adding up with her reaction, however. “Alex, that's amazing news!” you exclaimed, unable to hide the joy in your voice. “Why are you not more excited? Is it a bad deal?” “No, amor, it is a fair deal.” she sighs. You just look into her eyes, waiting for her to tell you what she wants to share. She takes a deep breath. “It’s Levante, I would have to move to Valencia.” Ah, you see. Your heart breaks at the sad frown painted on the usually stern face of your girlfriend. Your hand moves up to trace her eyebrow, forcing them to unfrown and moving down to cup her cheek. She leans heavily into the warmth of your hand, and damp eyes open, fixing to yours. “Oh Alex, it’s okay” you whisper. The truth is you had always known that with the career your girlfriend was destined to follow, that you would have to spend time away from each other. You already did. Alexia has often been away throughout your friendship and now your relationship for national camps. 

You had a very mature relationship for 17 year olds. Having been woven into each other's lives for so many years. You were part of each other's DNA. You knew how to manage the time without your girlfriend. You were both grade A communicators. You accepted that this would be different, and no doubt unimaginably hard for the footballer, her family was her life. But so was football. And you know you needed to encourage her to take this step. “It’s not okay!” she stated, firmly, sitting up straight on the couch. “It’s not fair! Finally I get what I have dreamed of but it comes at the expense of everything I love. Mi familia, Barcelona, you! Why can’t I have both? I don’t know what to do” “You go to Levante, Alexia.” you say, seriously, “This is a huge opportunity for you.” She looks at you incredulously and you’re not sure what you’ve done wrong. “Oh, so it is that easy for you? Si? You just let me go like it doesn’t even bother you!” You aren’t used to Alexia's stern frown being sent your way, usually it's aimed at someone in defence of you. Or at a goalkeeper.  You, however, know the brunette is feeling vulnerable, she has waves of insecurity at times, she puts so much pressure on herself it's inevitable, but you are always there to assure her of her worth, and your love. “You know that's not true, amor.” you say, tenderly, hand reaching into her brunette locks to sooth her. “I agree, it’s not fair that Barca don’t have a women's team but I have always known your talent would take you away from me, “ she opens her mouth to interject, “but I love you. And I know you love me. We are tethered. Forever. When, not if, you go to Valencia, we will make it work. You know we will amor, you can have both” “But I will miss you.” she whimpers, pathetically. “I will miss you every second. But it will get better, it’ll pass Alex.” Her head finds your neck as she settles in there. Her larger frame is quite comically draped over you. “Do you promise?” she lets out, weakly. And you don’t let a moment pass, “I promise.” and seal your promise with a kiss to the crown of her head. She moves her chin up and faces you, “Beso, por favour” she asks, who are you to refuse? You kiss softly, you don’t know how many minutes you are tasting her sweet lips pass before you are interrupted by a sulky 14 year old.  “Ewwww!”

Alba appeared, making the two of you split apart, her disgust at the scene she's found making you laugh as Alexia peels herself from you, rolling her eyes.

“I’m gonna tell Mami that you two were making out instead of feeding m…ahh!” Albas accusations getting lost as Alexia chases her around the living room, ready to fight in a way only sisters can.

A strange smelling odour fills your nose. Oh… Oh no. You rush into the kitchen to find your dinner smoking on the hob.

“Oi, Putellas diablos!” You stick your head into the living room where you find Alexia sat on her younger sister whilst she tries to battle off the huge weight she finds on herself. They both pause and look at you guiltily. “C’mon, shoes on, we’re going out to eat, on me, we’re celebrating!”

Both of them unite in cheers as they childishly jump up and run to the front door in glee, shoving each other out of the way to try to get their shoes on first as you watch, affectionately shaking your head.

It will be months later, after a summer filled with memories made with your girlfriend, days at the beach, trips to the market, lazy days at home and soft moments made in the streets of Barna, that you would find yourself alone in bed.

That was weird.

You had spent the day packing with Alexia, the sadness of moving away had started to be replaced with excitement from the tall girl. Her dreams were coming true, okay, it may not be perfect, she finally understands, but it's a step in the right direction.

She can’t believe that she's going to get paid to play football.

Paid. The evening after a long day of packing was spent having a family meal at the Putellas household. Your family is also in attendance. It was a loud and joyous affair and it helped to keep the sadness out of your girlfriend's eyes. After a long evening of sombremesa Alexia had insisted on coming back with you to your parents to your house.

She didn’t want to spend her last evening in Barcelona in her empty bedroom, instead finding solace in yours. You had both talked into the early hours, in the arms of each other, trading soft touches and exchanging breaths until sleep took you. You pretended for her sake that you couldn’t hear her rattling breaths or feel the dampness of her cheeks on your fingers.

Now, however, you were alone, and unsure at what woke you up. Until a tapping comes to your attention. You sit up in bed and hear it again. What is that? You get out of bed and go towards your window, yep, there it is again, coming from outside. You throw open the curtains and peer out into the moonlit garden.

It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness but you can’t take that moment because you suddenly are hit squarely in the face by a pebble. 

“Ouch.. what the he…” you stand suddenly and bang your head on the window frame “Ow, Fuck!” “Ay Dios Mío, lo siento amor! I didn’t see you had opened the window!” Alexia's panicked voice reached your ears, why was she in the garden? What the hell was going on? “Are you okay conejito?” You take a moment to steady yourself and your mind into your new and abrupt situation. “Conejito?” “Yes, Alex, I am fine. What are you doing out there?” You’re met with silence. “Al?” The tall brunette is scuffing her foot against the pebbles of the garden that she had previously been launching at the window. “I don’t want to say. I feel stupid now.” You arch your eyebrow in her direction. You don't think that she can even see it but she knows what's aimed in her direction. “I couldn’t sleep. I was too excited. And also sad. And muddled. And I will miss you so much so I was just imagining how good it will feel when you visit, or I visit. Or when I score a goal and you’re watching. Which I know you’ve seen but now it's my job.” she rambles, pausing momentarily to take a breath. 

“Anyway, I thought about how cool it would be if I came to visit and woke you up by throwing stones at your window like in a film! You’d love that! Then I just couldn’t wait to do it. So here’s me, doing it. I’m being romantic.” She throws a crooked grin up at the window and your heart literally melts. “I..I….” and you promptly burst into tears. “Oh no mi amor no! Don’t cry. I didn’t mean to throw a pebble at your face! I’m sorry!” she gestures towards you with her hands frantically. “It’s not that Alex, you’re just such an idiot. And I love you so much. I am going to miss you so much. Get up here.” needing her arms wrapped around you. She nods vigorously and makes to climb the trellis that goes to your window. “No you idiot! Use the door! You have a key!” “Oh yeah.” you hear her mutter to herself before she scurried back inside. As you’re settled back into her warm arms, her huge hands palming through your hair. “That was very romantic Alex.” you mumble and you practically hear her purr with pride at herself. “Next time though bebe, use your key, I would much rather you be here in bed with me.” “Noted.” she mumbles into your skin, wiping away the tears that you can’t stop from rolling down your cheeks. Alexia got settled into her professional team quickly and efficiently, she was one of the youngest but easily the most talented on the pitch. You would travel up with Jaume religiously at the weekends wherever you could, your time in the week spent busy with the Art College you had enrolled in. Alba sometimes tagging along when you bribed her with snacks.

As promised you were there when she scored her first professional goal, her beaming smile sent directly to you and Jaume in the stands, stood cheering for her. You witnessed her wide eyes, after the game, as you stood waiting for your celebratory hug and maybe a cheeky kiss, when she was stopped by a little hand. “Hola.” the small girl had to crane her neck to look up at your girlfriend. She was shaking with excitement. “Hola?” she replied, confused. “Can I have your autograph por favour?” she asked, sweetly. Alexia just stood there, like a sim. 

You stepped forward with your notepad and drawing pencil that you carry everywhere, you had more drawings of inside a football stadium than anyone would need. You ripped out a page and handed Ale the pencil. “Of…of course?” She scribbled down her autograph for the young girl who beamed and ran away holding it above her head to show her mami who picked her up in glee. Alexia's wide eyes stared at you. “Did you see that?” “I saw that bebe, I handed you the pencil. I also saw your goal, superstar!” You couldn’t control your grin, which was mirrored by your girlfriend. “You played so well! Alex!” You're interrupted as she drags you over the fencing and pulls you into a bear hug. Her face nuzzled into your neck, her body vibrating with excitement. “I scored for you conejito!” she says “Well, hija, I won’t be offended, I have only been to every game you’ve played for 10 years” Jaume appears above you both still in the stands, smiling teasing his lips. “And you papa!” she releases you and pulls her papa into a hug. Dragging you back in after a moment before declaring that her first goal means that she deserves pizza and ice cream courtesy of her papa. 

Through the summer and the fall We had each other, that was all Just she and I together Like it was meant to be

You finished your college course and your love for art had never died. You made the trip to Valencia wherever possible to see Alex and she came back to Barna at least once a month to see her family and you on an off weekend. You would spend those weekends living at Alexias house, soaking up every moment together as much as possible. 

She would bring her clothes home for Eli to wash as she was useless at anything practical. You would make sure that you would always snag a sweater of hers before it was washed and keep hold of it, soaking in her scent before you could swap it out again. Alexia, used to pretend she hated it, they would always be returned with paint stains around the cuffs which would harden and she said irritated her skin.  You tried to be more careful but you didn’t stop stealing them.

You saw the same amount of her family as before she moved away, your lives had been so intrinsically linked that you had become an honorary Putellas, and she was a part of your family. You hung around with Alba and you helped Eli with her shopping when her car broke down. You were family.

Weirdly enough, it was you that met Alexia's future best friend first. After college, you started to make money from your art by being a live artist at weddings.

You knew your parents were worried about what you would do with your art. Teaching was the obvious choice but with your speech issues, it was your idea of hell.

This was perfect.

It was a niche business but you got paid well and you loved it. You got to go to weddings for a job. You got to capture people's joy on the most important day of their lives.  You would sit in the corner with an easel set up, sketching and painting guests, the dance floor, the top table. And you could immediately give your paintings to the couple and their guests, the validation was enormous, you were good at what you did. Discreet and professional.

You soon get a client list for miles and the money starts to pour in.

It was at one of these weddings that you met Mapi. She caught your eye during the speeches and you started to draw her outline. She was clearly very very gay at a very straight wedding. But it wasn’t just that that caught your eye, her tattoos intrigued you. And you loved sketching them and adding hints of colour here and there.

She looked up at you and caught you sketching, as guests often would, you were able to not let it distract you, ever the professional you offered a gentle smile.

“You like football?” a heavily accented voice reached your ears as you were adding the finishing touches to the dancefloor scene that was set out before you.

“Que?” It wasn’t often that guests interacted with you, but sometimes it happened.

“Your bag, FC Barcelona? That's not usual for a pretty girl like you, to like football.”

“Ah, Si.” You reply, your eyes not moving from your painting. “It’s my girlfriends.” you reply, emphasising your relationship status, not wanting a moment of confusion.

“Ah, boo, you have ruined my fun.” She replies, “Maria Leon '' She introduces herself, hand out for you to shake, you don’t take her hand, handing your paint-y hands up. She holds her hands up in surrender. “I see, I see. FC Barcelona though. Good team. No women's team though.”

“No, but there will be, and my girlfriend will be their top scorer when it happens”  you reply confidently. “You seem so sure?” “I am.” She lets out a laugh. “I can’t argue with that, then I will be their best defender” she offers a huge smile. Mapis smile is magic and makes you smile.

You and Mapi become firm friends. She talks. And talks and talks and talks. You don’t know how she has so much to say. But she is fun and she is kind. Your stutter makes an appearance as it sometimes does but it is perfectly offset by her inability to stop yapping. You don’t feel a pressure to fill the silence because you know she will. 

Years later, at a supercup final, you will both laugh about your first conversation. About how both of your statements came true. Turns out, people paid well for authentic paintings of their favourite moments. And as a young adult you found yourself with enough money to get yourself a small apartment in Mollet. You loved it. And you loved the independence it brought you. You think that was the happiest time of your life. You would spend days on your sun drenched terracotta tiled balcony. Painting watercolour and sketching the scenes both in your mind and your view over the square that your apartment was on. You had quite the online following and would get some commissions for your art which brought you a sense of purpose and joy. The absolute best time was when Alexia had a free weekend, or a break, she would stay with you and you would live in domestic bliss. It was an unspoken agreement. No question that she would make her base for her time back at your apartment. Even when she wasn’t there you wouldn’t sleep on her side of the bed. More of her clothes made their way into your closet. More of her sweaters would get paint marks on them. You would cook together, sing together, dance together in your small kitchenette. Feeling happy and in love as only young people can. Nothing gets between you. Training had been kind to your girlfriend, and you struggled to keep your eyes off her as she would do basic tasks. She was thick. For want of a better word. Her gangly limbs had become pure muscle, her back would ripple when putting on a t-shirt, you would find yourself staring at her forearms as she would cut vegetables. She knew what she did to you and she loved it. Often sending a wink your was and sending you into more of a stuttering mess then usual, heat climbing to your face. You felt your heart grow as you would go shopping for groceries together. Take strolls in the square, you sitting on a bench and sketching as she inevitably got herself involved in a football game with the local kids. Her favourite time of day would be Friday nights. Often, if she was lucky, she would be scheduled an early kick off on fridays. You would travel back from the game together with her papi. You took the backseat as you knew you would monopolise her time back all weekend. Giving her a chance to catch up with her family. You would get home, she would shower whilst you made a light dinner, both taking it in on the balcony before moving inside and settling on the couch. She would put on some illegally screened recordings of the game she had played in. But she would mute it as she pulled you into her chest. You would have a sketchbook in hand and continue working on your art, or a piece from a wedding that needed finishing up. You always told her the commentary wouldn’t distract you. But she insisted. Once finally saying, “I like the sound of your pencil, it soothes me, and sometimes you trace the sketch on my leg with your free hand. It gives me goosebumps. I like it.” you never asked again. You argued, of course, like any couple did. But it never lasted long. Alex would get angry when she would find paint in the sink, and you would struggle to share your space at first. But you never went to bed in a fight. Even if you tried to be stubborn your body would fail you and you would gravitate towards her in the moments before sleep, muttering your apologies or forgiveness. In those early days of young adulthood it would be the only time in your relationship where you had more money than Alex. 

Football did not pay well. It did not pay a living wage. 

You didn’t care. 

You felt privileged every time you scanned your card for the groceries, or paid for dinner on a date. You knew she hated it though. “One day conejito, I will give you everything life can offer, I promise” she would whisper into your skin whilst she tried to make it up to you in other ways. You would always tell her you had everything you needed right there with you. It was perfect. Life was perfect. You had friends, a stable job, the love of your life. Yes, distance was hard, yes, each time she left you would cry and hold her tighter to you, but you knew it wasn’t forever, and you never felt that distance in your relationship. You grew together, like a plant, your love was carefully cultivated in experiences and shared memories.

And when she was lonely I was there to comfort her And I knew that she loved me

You had never felt sadness like it. It was all encompassing. You couldn’t get away from it. You were sad for your chosen family. You were sad for your own family. You were sad for yourself. But you were devastated for your girlfriend. You didn’t know what to do with so much sadness. You couldn’t hold it in, but you couldn’t let it out. You needed to be strong for your girlfriend. Who was walking around as a shell of the person that you knew her to be. Well, that was when she was walking, she would throw herself into her childhood bedroom and stay there silently for hours. You would be okay with it if she was sleeping, but she just stared at the wall aimlessly. Her Papa was her inspiration. The reason she got into football. She would look up to him even as she towered over him. And it was so so cruel that he had been taken away from her in such a manner. A week after Jamues passing you found yourself next to Alexia at his funeral. It was a beautiful affair, a celebration of the life of a man who loved hard and was loved hard. The morning had been difficult, you had ironed Alexia's dress and set it out for her. She took your instruction like a small child, you brushed her hair straight and pulled it out from her face. You struggled to speak. Such immense grief you felt the words became garbled in your mouth, rendering you mute. But you didn’t want any pressure on Alexia. 

You knew when your stutter made an appearance she would drop everything, concentrate on doing your exercises with you, hand automatically cupping your jaw and massaging the soft area beneath your ear because she knew that relaxed your facial muscles. So you both moved around silently. That morning. As you guided her around what needed to be done. As you packed her bag with tissues you hoped that you needed to use them. You hadn’t seen her cry since she rushed home from Valencia to the news. So no, you didn’t know what to do with your grief. You loved him too. He was the first person you had loved and lost. You had your own special relationship built from long car journeys and shared snacks. He would put your art on his fridge like you were one of his own. He was kind and he was half of the person who you loved to your core. God. If you felt like this. You don’t know how Alexia was still breathing. You had been spending all week as the Putellas household. Not leaving Alex's side. But also not leaving Alba, who would lean heavily into you of an evening, seemingly crying all of the tears that her sister couldn’t. It felt healthy though, through the tears you could share memories and make her laugh. You would go to bed with Alex and the silence would continue. When you were sure she was asleep you would sneak out of bed and grab your sketch pad, settle into the corner of the room and just let it out. Her dad told you once at a game how his father worked as a coal miner. He said it proudly, he adored hard work. That's where Alexia got her devotion from. It was a passing moment, a memory that you didn't even know you had. But it stuck with you as you went into the Putellas garden and took a lump of coal from the barbeque and settled yourself into the dewey grass. Hand not stopping over your sketchpad and tears rolling down your cheeks.

The night after the funeral you stayed at your own parents house. You couldn’t handle the loneliness of your own apartment. You didn’t want to intrude at the Putellas residence, and you hoped that maybe some time with her family would be what Alexia needed to open up. You were right, but not in the way you imagined. A soft clink, clink, clink, woke you up, This time you were not frightened. You had heard this noise before. You immediately jumped out of bed and ran to your window, showing it open and shoving your head out. “Alex! What are you doing here, why didn’t you use your key?” The brunette looked up at you with sad eyes, you saw she was in her pyjamas, eyes sideways showing no car, she had walked here. “I forgot it.” she let out, morosely. “Oh mi amor, no p..p..problem, hold on I will come down and let you in.” before you had a chance to bring your body back into the house you heard her again, “You left me.” your heart cracked into two. You didn’t reply but instead hurried downstairs into the moonlit garden. She stood there, with all her muscle and height, looking everything like a toddler who was lost in a supermarket. You took her hand in yours and used your other to cup her cheek. “Oh, mi amor I didn’t leave you, I thought you wanted some space.” Maybe you expected her to agree, maybe you expected her to disagree and shout at you for getting it so wrong. You didnt realise that you were to her, like an umbrella in the rain, protecting her from the downpour. With you gone she drowned in the grief. You didn’t expect her lip to tremble and her to burst into tears. “I want my papa.”  Those 4 words broke your heart as you huddled her into your arms, rocking lightly to bring her confort. There was nothing you could say, you just brought her into your bed and held her as she cried, painting her skin with whispers of your love “I know, bebe, I know, I promise it’ll pass, I promise, and I will be here. The pain will go. It will pass Alex and I will be here.” It became a mantra that you whispered into her skin.

As she calmed down you took a moment to think. As you got out of bed and she groaned in annoyance you hushed her with your lips to her skin. “Un momento, mi amor, I have something for you.”

You presented it nervously, unsure of the reaction you would get.

It was a framed picture that you had created. Not like your usual artwork as it was made from coal. Coal from the Putellas barbecue to be exact. It was a sketch of a man in the stands of a football stadium, somehow, eyes beaming with pride, laugh lines visible on his face. A footballer with a long ponytail and similar features jumping into his arms.

It was a scene you had witnessed hundreds of times throughout the years. You didn’t need to see it again to create it. The coal added a haunting and beautiful dimension to it. When you explained your reasoning Alexia looked deeply into your eyes. Holding onto the frame with white knuckles like her life depended on it.

“I love you.” 

And when Alexia scored and helped her team to win the U19 Championship for her country not 3 weeks later. Celebrating with eyes to the sky, fingers pointed. You knew that, eventually, she would be okay. 

So the years went by I stayed the same But she began to drift away I was left alone Still, I waited for the day When she'd say, "I will always love you"

It was as though it had been destined for years but finally finally the news came that Barcelona FC would have a women's team. Mapi had texted you with glee when the news broke out, she knew that she was stuck in her own contract but the fact it existed made it a possibility for her dreams to come true. Your girlfriend, on the other hand, was a free agent. You thought, privately, that even if she wasn't a free agent that she would break every law on planet earth to play for her childhood club. She was offered a contract and signed without any hesitation. A mist in her eyes at the missing presence in her signing photos. You drove with Alba to collect her and all her things from a year in Valencia directly to your apartment. As you unpacked her stuff, Alba on a food run with money you had shoved into her hand, your small flat suddenly felt full. “Alex,” You called, from the living room, you heard her shuffle around and pop her head into the bedroom where you stood, surrounded by boxes. “Si, conejito?” she asked, breathlessly. You took in her smile, that you had missed over the months, the light in her eyes, the ease of her movements. “I am just asking, I don’t actually remember asking you to move in?” You say, teasingly, gesturing to her boxes surrounding you. It was true, you hadn’t, it had just been assumed by both of you, as well as both of your families. A blush rose up her neck, “I mean… I-i-..”. You burst out laughing. “I am just teasing you”. A glint in her eyes took over and you had half a second to brace yourself before you were tackled by an almost 6ft wall of muscle. You landed gently on the bed with a thump. “Well, light of my life. I think it’s too late for that. Maybe I can make up for my rudeness.” Her voice takes on a sultry tone, attacking your neck with kisses, making you groan. “No, No, No, No, stop it you two! Why is this my life!” Well. Alba was back, You groaned as Alexias full body weight fell onto you as she heard her sister. You had a feeling you both had plenty of time to make up for it. Living with Alexia full time was natural. You had obviously had practice from the year she spent in Valencia but you didn’t realise how easy it would be. You knew where to step to not fall over her boots in the hallway without looking. 

You amended your grocery show to include all her weird protein-packed foods. She would help you get ready for work in your evening gowns that you had to wear to fit in at the weddings, and she would stay up to make sure you got home safe and listened as you babbled on about your favourite parts, all the while taking it in for ideas for your own wedding. You continued to make money at weddings, Alexia rose through the ranks at the new Barcelona Femini team. Quickly establishing herself as a calm and serious captain. 

She took her role seriously,  she would study games religiously at home as you would paint or sketch. Your easel set up in the living room or on the balcony. She would rub your shoulders as you painted, eyes set on the TV at the game. The shared time doing your own activities matched you both perfectly. And just like that, years passed. Years in domestic bliss. Spent together and with your families. Vacations in Ibiza and even a pet cat called Pablo Petcatso, or Pabs for short, entered your little family unit. He was a ginger cat who loved a cuddle and loved getting into Alexia's kit bag, he even made it to the training once or twice, and you had to drive over there to pick him back up. Dragging him away from 22 cooing footballers. 

Women's football grew, as did Alexia's paycheck. And with that, you think, looking back, as did the cracks in your relationship.

“We're here!” Alexias excited voice explained, you had pulled up outside a tall apartment building in the centre of Barcelona. She hadn’t shared with you where you were going. Insisting it needed to be a surprise.

“And where is here?” you looked up at the towering glass building above you, you didn’t come into the city much, you preferred the quiet of your suburb.

“You’ll see, you’ll see!” Her excitement was catching, and you found yourself giddy as the elevator took you further into the skies of the city.

“Ta-da!” She presents a huge open plan space before you, the glass fronted living room has views over the city to the sea. You could count at least 3 bedrooms from where you stood in the hallway. The kitchen was sleek, straight lines and clean granite. 

“What is this place?” you ask, confused, taking in your surroundings. “It's our new apartment!” What? “What?” you breathe out. “Don’t you love it?!” Alexia remains giddy, her excitement not fading and she fails to notice your unenthused reaction. Your mind whirred. “Come look, come look!” she grabbed your hand, and pulled you further into the apartment. Proudly presenting each room to you. “And this room. I thought you could have it as your art studio!” “Art studio?” you whisper. “Yeah! Isn’t it so cool, and so much space. Now I wont get cross at you for getting paint all over the kitchen! Pabs will have so much room to explore!” She turns around and pulls you into her embrace, you are still shellshocked at everything presented to you. “I promised you, didn’t I? I would give you the world conejito.” Her eyes are so bright with joy, the smile so wide on her face, you couldn’t help but smile. Yes, the sleek lines, the large space, and the modern kitchen were beautiful. You didn’t see it for yourself, you preferred your terracotta tiled balcony and your plants overtaking your kitchenette. You loved painting in your living room when Alexia would watch a match. Pabs crawling over your shoulders, your little bubble with your family. But you could see how proud Alex was of herself, of what she had achieved. You must have taken a moment too long, as her eyebrows furrow. “You don’t like it.” you said, plainly, “No… No Alex, I do! I was just so surprised. I love it, and I love you.” “Yeah?” her eyes brighten again. You kiss her lips softly, “Yeah.” “Good! And think conejito, maybe one day there would be room for a bigger family?” she asks, shyly. Your heart melted as you nodded frantically and threw yourself into her embrace. As Alexia's career grew, so did the pressure on her. She was often away, it was something your whole relationship had survived, but now, being away with both club and country, as well as in an apartment that had never truly felt like home. You felt lonely. You would come home from weddings with only Pabs to greet you, you would create art in your studio without the background noise of Alexia watching a game, or preparing a smoothie. She would do that in the living area. Nights together were rarer. Your love never dimmed. Alexia showed you in her every movement that she adored you. Date nights, whilst few and far between, were the highlight of your week. Though that soon became the highlight of your month. The one saving grace during this time was that Mapi had finally joined Barcelona Femini and you took it on yourself to be her personal Barcelona guide. As Alexia's fame grew, you shied more into the background. You weren't an extrovert. You would never hide your relationship and you never asked Alexia to but the only social media that you had was that to promote your artwork. Meanwhile, Alexia's followers grew and grew. A few crazed fans had deep dived into her archives and knew of you but that was only a portion of the fanbase. She hated the delving into her private life, and that caused her to stop posting anything of you onto her public accounts. Any trace of you, gone. Before being a footballer, in Alex’ mind, she was your protector, that hadn’t changed from 15 years ago. With 2021 came great change. All of the years of dreams and hard work had paid off and Barca had reached the champions league final. You travelled to Gothenburg with Eli and Alba, a nervousness in your stomach more than usual. For both your girlfriend and your best friend. You celebrated the win with a euphoria you had rarely felt. Everything felt worth it. The lonely nights, the travel around the country, the sacrifices you had to make as the partner of La Reina.

And as she pulled you into her arms after the final whistle, and pulled you over the barricade the same way she did when she scored her first professional goal your heart couldn’t swell more with pride. You don’t want to say that Alexia changed after the Ballon D’or. Because she didn’t. Well, maybe she did, she suddenly sported bright blonde locks which, you admit was sexy, but you missed the softness her natural hair gave her face. By the second Ballon D’or you thought maybe it was you that changed. Maybe it was you that put up a barrier. One that couldn’t be identified easily. But with study it could be noticed. The problem was that Alex wasn’t there to notice. Yeah, you were together, you did things together, you made love and you made memories. You went back to Mollet regularly and ate with your families and you went to games with Alba.  But Alexia was busy. She had brand deals, she had interviews, she had achieved her dream of being the best footballer in the world. You knew she was since you were 12. But now the world knew too. And the world wanted her attention. 

Oftentimes she was exhausted when she got home. She didn’t want to cuddle on the couch. She didn't want to walk around the plaza. She didn’t want to hear about your day. She would ask, but you could tell her mind was elsewhere, in some contract somewhere, so you started to lie. To give answers which would satisfy her without arousing suspicion. Always trying to put her ease first. 

You would decline for nights out with her teammates, you even lied once or twice and said you had a wedding to paint, just to avoid suspicion. Alexia would take your answer as the truth, and kiss your cheek lightly as she left the apartment which quickly felt like it had become your prison. Mapi could see through you. She would try to get you to talk, but she was Alexia's team mate. Alex was her captain. It didn’t feel right to discuss your relationship issues with her. Not when you wouldn’t even talk to the woman in question about it. You found yourself in the familiar seats of the Johan Cryuff stadium taking in the first home game of the new season. Alba and Eli by your side. The first game was always a family affair. With the Putellas cousins in attendance, a restaurant booked for this evening for you all. It was an easy win for the Champions of Europe. And as you stood with Mapi and her new girlfriend Ingrid at the end of the match chatting, Patri bounded over, sweat on her brow and joy in her eyes. “Hola Senora La Reina” she teased you, kissing your cheek, you had been around the team so much that they all knew you well. “Ay, Idiota, hands off” and large, familiar hands wrapped around your middle, a kiss planted to your other cheek as you melted into her embrace. “Congrats bebe” you muttered, craning you neck you see her looking down at you with a smile. “Senora Reina, you’ll come out for drinks with us to celebrate the win, won’t you?” Parti asked, full of joy. 

The attention of the 4 footballers on you suddenly unsettled you. Maybe it was the busy environment. Maybe it was being with Ingrid who you’d only met a few times. Maybe it was Alexias hands around you for the first time in what felt like months. But you struggled to get your words out. “Ah, gra…grac…gracias  for the invite diablo, but m…m…me…” “She’s coming out with mi familia Patri, it’s tradition! You know that! Vamos, I will come out quickly for a drink then join you all, conejito” Alexia interrupted you, planted a final kiss on your cheek and headed to the changing rooms. She didn’t feel you freeze in her embrace. She didn’t see Patri and Mapis expressions change. She didn’t see Ingrid's look of confusion. You felt sick. You felt like you were about to burst into tears. Your throat burned and you struggled to swallow. 

You felt small. You shuffled your feet on the ground and looked up to see Mapis' face had grown furious, her girlfriend's arm had come to rest over her shoulders, trying to settle her but unsure why. You went straight into damage control. Alexia has protected you your entire life. She had never interrupted you, she knew you couldn’t stand when people would finish your sentences. It was the worst thing you could do to someone with a stutter. She knew that. You don’t know why Alexia's endless patience ran out that day. But you knew you wanted to protect her from your best friend's rage. You knew it would happen one day, you just wish it had happened without any witnesses. For both of your sakes. “Mapi, it's fine.” “It is not fine!” Patri backs away from the situation with a kiss to your cheek and an apologetic look. “I don’t know what's wrong with her lately. I am going to kill her…” she moves towards the changing rooms but you pause her with a soft hand. “Maps, please don’t. It’s f…f…okay. I am okay. Ju…just go get changed and go on your night out. I will t..text you tomorrow. Please.” You look to Ingrid for help, you don’t know her well but she has the power over Mapi seemingly, and as she guides her to the changing rooms the small Spaniard seems to settle down. 

Not enough though, apparently, because as soon as she sees her captain again, a flicker of that rage comes back to her. “What the fuck is wrong with you!” Mapi hisses to her captain, “Maria, stop” Ingrid tugged her by the elbow, trying to take her away. Alexia looked up from her phone with a look of indignation, yes she was Mapis friend but she was still her captain, and they were in front of the whole team. Her defensive wall immediately came up. “Discuple?” Her eyes cast across the changing room, their team mates continued to get changed and pretended they weren’t eaves dropping into the mini argument that had developed.

“I said, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Mapi spat out. “Why did you interrupt her?” Something in Alexia's stomach dropped. Her hands become clammy, her body reacting to the accusation before her mind could. “What? I didn’t. I would never.” she whispers in reply, but more to herself. “No, No I didn't.” she said more surely, somewhat desperately. 

Mapi takes in her best friend's demeanour, the usually stoic and strong captain looked devastated, maybe even petrified? Mapi knew what she had done, but could see that Alexia would punish herself more than Mapi ever could. She stepped away, guided by Ingrid. Leaving Alexia to replay the last 10 minutes, desperately. Mapi saw the moment that realisation came to the Catalan Captain, as she bolted out of the changing room, hair damp, throwing her shirt on as she sprinted back into the stadium. Which is where she found you, moments later. You were sitting in the friends and family section, Alexias new baby cousin settled onto your knee, playing with your hands and babbling to himself. You made cooing noises and spoke softly to him and all her Tias and Tios got rounded up for your meal out. You felt her presence behind you, you could practically feel her anxiety coming off her in waves. You looked back quickly and confirmed your suspicions, her blonde hair damp and wetting her shoulders, her foot twisting against the concrete floor, hands knotted together and bottom lip drawn into her lip, chewing anxiously. “It’s fine Alex.” you said, as you turned, attention back on the baby in your lap. She must have seen this acknowledgement as her body surged towards you, she loudly collapsed into the seat next to you, the anxiety coming off her in waves. “Conej…” she started. “No Alex, I pr…pr… I swear. It’s okay. But I’m currently holding the ba…bab…ba… child.” you take a sigh. “I am holding the child and I don’t want to cry so p…please. It’s okay.” If it's possible. She looked even more devastated. Her whole face collapsed. She hated when you would revert to old techniques to speak, by changing up your words mid sentence. Alexia was your protector. It was her proudest badge. Before she was a footballer, in her mind, she was your partner. And she had let you down. She had done the worst thing she could have done. To an outsider Alexia's moment of impatience may have been a minor indiscretion at most. But to you? To Alex? It was the basis of your whole relationship. You felt safe with her. You had a voice, she said, all those years ago when you fell in love, and you deserved to be heard. And now she has brought that into question. “Can I touch you?” she asked, gently. This brought tears to your eyes and you nodded, whilst still entertaining the baby in your lap with coo’s and a false smile. She touched your knee, the heat of her hand bleeding into your skin. “You don’t need to mask in front of me y/f/n.” Alexia never used your name. “Please. Use the words you want to use. I am here to listen. Always.” You are interrupted as Alexias Tia comes to claim her baby, who you hand back with a last pat on the stomach and raspberry to the cheek. You are trying to avoid the next 5 minutes you know will happen. Alexia is somewhat rude when her Tia offers her congratulations, eyes boreing into your head. You sweep your hair back as you face her, having had a moment to think you get your words out easier. “Alex, it’s okay. It was bound to happen one day. Don’t worry about it. Please. Go out with your friends. I will go to the meal as planned. I promise. Alba will drive me home later.” “No.” Alexia says desperately, clutching your hand in hers, “Let’s just go home, amor. Please.” “Ale I made a promise to your mami. I am going to eat. I will see you later.” you press a kiss to her cheek and wander off towards her family.  As she stands, watching you interact with her sister and her mami, her teammates call her over. She feels torn. She just wants to go home with you. She just wants to wrap you up in cotton wool and keep you in her arms. Safe. But you don’t want that right now, so she turns to do as instructed. Throwing one more glance your way, missing Albas worried face as she wipes a tear from your cheek.

Lonely and forgotten Never thought she'd look my way And she smiled at me and held me Just like she used to do Like she loved me When she loved me

You came home early. You asked if Alba could drop you off as soon as you had finished your meal. She was happy to oblige, worried about your silence the entire meal. You were looking down at your phone as you entered your apartment. Assuring Mapi again that you were fine and she should enjoy her drinks. You go to flick on the light in the living area when a stream of light below the door of your studio distracts you. You push the door open cautiously and see Alexia standing there, looking at your work in progress. It was different to your usual work. A close up sketch of a hand, wrapped around a flower, tenderly, it was in the early stages, you could see the lines of the palm and the blades of grass in the field behind. It was mounted onto canvas on your easel and the splashes of colour you had started to add contrasted against the paleness of the room. She hadn’t heard you enter, too lost in the image before her, but Pabs making a run for the door as it opened brought her attention to you. As you stand there, under her gaze, you struggle to remember the last time you saw Alexia in your studio. Yeah she would bob in to let you know dinner was ready, or that she was heading out, but she didn’t come in often enough to take in your work anymore. Now it wasn’t forced on her in the living space. It seemed Alexia had the same realisation as she broke her gaze with you and gestured towards your painting, and then further, to your desk overlooking the window, where more of your work lay. “You’re amazing. I didn’t… I.” a deep breath. “I hadn’t forgotten but I think I… Got lost? Somewhere along the way?” you tilt your head curiously. You don’t know what she’s talking about. “I have been a bad partner to you.” 

“Alex…” “No. I have. And I’m not interrupting you but I won’t let you lie to protect me.” her eyes go again to your easel. “You’re amazing. You are so talented. You are filled with so much kindness. You deserve so much more than this.” her eyes fill with tears and she looks at you. “I tried. You know? I promise I did. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought this,” she gestures towards you and around you “was what you deserved. And it is. But more than that you deserve everything.” She takes a step towards you and grasps your hands with hers, her hands are cold, you note. As you take her in you see dried tear tracks down her cheeks, and… damp hair. “Alexia, did you not go out with the team?” “How do you think that I could go out with the team after what I did?” she asks, aghast. The reminder of the way the evening went washes over you. Alexia panics when she sees your eyes fill with tears. And she pulls you into her chest. “I am so, so sorry mi amor. I am so sorry” she whispers into your hair. “I have broken something sacred between us. And I will never forgive myself.” she swears to you. Though that doesnt bring you any joy. “I forgive you Alex.” she shakes her head in despair, joining you in tears. “You said it was bound to happen someday,” she starts, “Do not think like that amor. It was not. This is not your fault. In any way. It is mine. Please don’t think that, you deserve to be heard. I am so so sorry. So sorry. I will never do it again, promesa.”  All you can do is nod into her chest.

She pulls you from the room and settles you both into the sofa, keeping the light off, only the skyline of the city illuminating your living room through the large, glassed wall. 

She lets you cry into her t-shirt, soaking it more than her damp hair, and through the darkness you pull away and take in her face, she looks youthful. Gone, the professional make up, the expensive jewellery, and hair darkened by the dampness from her shower. You take in a large choked breath. “We need to talk.” you let out. Fear takes over her features and she starts to shake her head. “No, Mi Conejito please no, don’t do this.” she wails. It is a heart wrenching sound. She thinks she's going to be sick. “Woah, woah, woah” you place your hands on her cheeks and pull her panicked eyes to yours; “Mi amor I am not breaking up with you.” you state, clearly. “I am not. Now breathe with me.” Her eyes steady from their darting around the room in fear, and you place your hand on her chest, making her breathe with you. “Okay, okay… okay. Yes, please. Talk to me.” she begs, trying to get oxygen back into her lungs.  “I feel alone. I feel… sa…sad. A lot of the time. And I know… you y…you aren’t doing it on pur…purpose.” Your girlfriend looks heartbroken. Like she had just found out her entire family had died. But refuses to interrupt you as you speak. But you have needed this conversation for so long, that the words start to tumble out of you. Getting lodged in your throat. Har large hand comes up to that familiar place, and massages the soft tissue behind your jaw. Trying to help you without interrupting. “You aren’t doing it on purpose.” you repeat. She pauses for a moment and doesn't ask what you thought she would. “Why am I making you anxious?” she asks, cutting through your thoughts. You move away from her and settle your elbows to your knees. Rubbing your face as you feel a large hand settle onto your back. You hated your stutter. You hated that it ruled your life, but most of all you hated how it exposed you. You were like a child who can’t hide a blush in front of their crush. “You aren’t, Alexia.” “Alex.” she corrects, “I am Alex to you” she insists, “your Alex. It’s just me, mi amor.” she looks at you desperately. “I feel alone, you are never here, and when you are here physically, you aren’t here in your head. Your head is in the clouds, it is with your agent, with your coach, it is not with me.” you’ve started now, so you won’t be able to stop yourself “it is me and Pabs and, even though you're dumb as bricks bebe, you're a better conversationalist than him” you try to joke, a half smile on your face. Which she matches, hand not stopping her ministrations on your back. 

“I cannot remember the last time we just sat together, the last time that we cooked together. Can you Alex?” you don’t receive a reply, 

“I haven’t had your eyes, look at me, really look at me for months. You give your time so easily to those around you, your team mates, people I see you out with at events. I can’t blame you, this is what you always dreamed of. But… I miss you.” Your speech is strong now; “and I love you. That will never change. But you need to know how I am feeling. So it's fair to you. I feel as though you are bigger than the world. And I am just the girl you saved in the art room.” She is openly crying now. “Don’t say that, you are everything” she mumbled, through tears. 

She knew that she had been busy. But she didn’t realise the damage that she had done. She had been to events, you had been at her side. But. When was the last time she asked about a wedding you’d worked? God, you used to sit for hours describing the beautiful scenes, and she’d store away ideas for your own wedding.  The last gallery you had shown at? When had she last visited your mami and papi, who had been there for her her entire life? She kept you off social media for your protection, but she didn’t mean to erase you. When had she become so god damn selfish. “Amor, I think that somewhere along the way, I had forgotten, and forgotten to remind you. There are more important things than football. Well. Football is second”.

You are thrown back to a memory, a school championship 15 years ago, sat on the bleachers watching your school get destroyed. The lanky football captain sat by your side. You can’t help it but tears fill your eyes. You missed her. That girl. The one you were and the one she was. “But.. you told me once, that I could have both.” she whispered, into your neck, “and you can, Alex. Of course you can. But you have to want both. And at the moment. It feels. It feels like you don’t want me.” “No! Mi Amor, Mi Vida, Mi Conejito. You are everything. Eres mi mundo. I am nothing without you.” she takes a breath, deep and shuddering. “I will fix this. Thank you for telling me how you feel. I have a chance to fix this. Si?” she asks, desperately. You nod, “Of course Alex, and it's for both of us to fix, I should have said something sooner.” She refuses your admittance of guilt and drags you into bed. She sticks to you like a second skin. Moves with you to brush your teeth. Standing waiting whilst you use the toilet. She places a fresh glass of water on your bedside table.You want to tell her to give you a bit of space, but the fear in her eyes prevents you from doing so. As soon as you crawl into your side of the bed she has pulled you into her embrace and the warmth that fills you goes beyond the shared body heat. For the first time in a long time, you wake up in the strong arms of Alexia. She hasn’t moved in the night an inch, and you take a moment to take her in. This is what you missed. Just breathing the same air as her. Just existing in the same space. As though she can feel you looking at her she begins to stir. Taking a moment to come to her senses, her arms grip you tighter around your waist. “Hola, Mi amor” she whispers into the air. Your response is a kiss to her lips, which she steals, hungrily. As you deepen the kiss you feel her begin to pull away. “Lo siento, mi amor, we cannot get carried away. Things to do.” your heart hurts again. You roll off the taller girl and reach for your phone as a distraction. 

You thought, maybe, just maybe, for today at least. You would spend the day together. “Things to do!” she repeats, jumping out of bed with glee. “Where’s your passport”. That grabs your attention. “Que?” you ask, confusingly. “Your passport amor, Vamos!” She had long ago left the bed, and had started moving around the room, picking up various bags which had definitely not been there when you went to bed and moving them into the hallway. She was like a ball of energy, she stripped off her oversized t-shirt she had worn to bed, leaving her standing in just her boxers. Your eyes widened at the sight. Well, you think, at least all the time not spent with you was doing something good. You find yourself in a trance, practically salivating at your view.

A change of clothes being thrown at your head brings you out of your stupor. “Dressed. Go.” Alexia teases you, definitely having caught you starting. This makes you finally start to move as you shrug on the jogging bottoms and hoodie she threw at you. Happily, you note, it's one of hers that you’ve already destroyed with paint marks on the cuffs. “Why do you need my passport Alex? What's with the bags?” “We’re going on vacation!” That stops you, half in, and half out of your hoodie. Getting yourself stuck. “Vacation?” you ask, voice muffled by the fabric. You hear Alexia make her way over to you, then feel her gently pull you free from your fabric prison. “Si…” she gently tells you. A look overcomes her face which you can’t distinguish, then she kisses your nose, softly. “Vacation. Just me and you amor.”

“But what about work?” you ask, still catching up. “You don’t have anything booked for 6 days, I checked your calendar. And where we are going, you can bring all your art things if you need them. I’ve packed the basics in my carry-on already.” “Not my work. Alex, your work. You have a busy week.” at this point you seem to have lost her attention as she turns to your question dismissively. “I cancelled it.” she replies, simply. “You cancelled it.” you repeat. “Si.” “Alexia! Have you lost your mind! You have training, you have that meeting with Oakley - you have the pre-euros media to do! You have a game in 3 days”  you reel off her calendar, watching as she continues to dress and pack her toiletries. She heaves out a sigh and turns back to you.

“Conejito, I know what I had, you don’t need to tell me I have just spent all night cancelling all of them. I spoke to Jona and he’s happy for me to miss the game. The rest of it doesn’t matter.” she moves closer to you again, “So no, I have not lost my mind. But, I did almost lose you, so please. Please tell me where your passport is so we can get on the plane I booked. Mapi will be here in a moment to take Pabs for the week.”  You find yourself standing there, stunned. She seemingly had thought of everything. You look into the hall at the bags packed there ready to go. Pabs sniffed them curiously. She’s looking at you with wide, expecting eyes. There's nothing else for you to do you suppose. As you turn from her and open your bedside table,  a smile can’t be kept off your face, you turn triumphantly with your passport held high. “Voila!” you present it to her; “What are you waiting for then Alex! We've got a plane to catch!” as you scurry out of the room and you hear the front door knock. Alexias cackle behind you. Alexia was always full of surprises when she wanted to be and she remained tight lipped all the way to the airport, refusing to tell you your destination. 

You assumed it would be one of the islands somewhere, with the size of her luggage maybe somewhere farther afield, sun, sea and a pool somewhere promised. But she shocked you. When you got to the check in desk and realised you were flying to Switzerland you could have been knocked down with a feather. Your Alex, who was upset when she even had to wear a bikini top in the month of August, has booked for you to go to Switzerland? 

She ignored your curious stare and just continued to sweet talk the check in lady, upgrading you to business class. As you descended hours later, between the snow peaked mountains against a stunning orange sun you couldn't believe what you were seeing. Your hands itched to claim the sketch book from Alexias carry on. Soon, after collecting your luggage and Alexia picking up a hire car that has also been pre booked (seriously did this girl sleep at all the night before?), you found yourself being driven through a mountain forest, as a lodge that seemed to cling to the mountainside came into view, isolated and beautiful. You stood on the wooden balcony, hands gripping a warm drink as you took in the view of the sun setting behind the mountains. “Look at that, Amor.” you felt, more than heard, whispered against your ear. Lips planting a kiss at your jaw as strong hands settle over your stomach. 

You fell back into her embrace. “It’s so beautiful.” you replied, eyes focused on the scene before you. “I saw this advert. Months ago.” she continued. “Just in the back of a catalogue at work. They will have the Euros near here, you know, 2025?” That made you snort with laughter. “Ah, I see Putellas, now it makes sense how you’ve been dragged from the beach, scoping out the environment are we? Anything for that competitive edge.” your teasing is clear in your voice. 

You feel a pinch on your stomach, “No, idiota,” though the laugh is clear in her voice. “I saw that advert and I couldn’t get it out of my head. It is so beautiful here.” you hum in agreement, “But what I could not get out of my head was that I wanted you to see it. I love seeing the world through your eyes.” 

She turns you in her embrace and she places a gentle kiss to your forehead as you feel her breathe you in. “You see things so beautifully, Amor, and then you paint them for the world to see. You are so special.” Your heart melts at the blonde, and you feel some of the despair that had settled into your stomach over the last months shrink. Here Alexia was, at work, flicking through some promotional material between interviews and training, and her thoughts are with you. “And I will not let you forget how special you are, ever. Never again”. You spent those days in pure bliss. You spend the days hiking - her pretending to be as tired as you at the peak of a mountain, she was a terrible actress but you appreciate the sentiment non the less - having picnics, exploring the mountain villages, and on one particularly spicy day, skinny dipping in an isolated mountain lake that a swiss teammate had told Alexia about. Evenings were spent looking up at the stars together, you firmly in alexias lap on the balcony, sharing a glass of wine which you held. She pointed out stars that her Papa had shown her and given silly names to, and you were there to catch her tears. She would complain only minimally that she was cold, and you would offer to warm her up and she would lead you gently into the bedroom. Nights spent in each other's embrace, sighs shared and no alarms to wake you. You would dance around the kitchen, play cards at the table, share wine and stories and just catch up. 

The pit in your stomach mended with each kiss, each peel of laughter and each stroke of the skin. 

One evening, after the skinny dipping adventure in which the footballer insisted that she must have hypothermia and had taken herself off over an hour ago telling you she wasn’t coming out of the warm shower until she had become a prune. You had started to add the finishing touches to a sketch of the scene beyond your lodges window when you felt the blonde return into the room, You eyed her quickly, flannel tartan pyjamas covering her tall frame, hanging over her wrists, matching shorts which are despicably short. Fuzzy socks on her feet. She looked absolutely adorable. 

You didn’t know why she was staring at you though, She moved towards you and you made space for her on the couch.  “You have your glasses on, Conejita.” she mumbled, and you reached up, as though to confirm they were on your face, “I didn’t know you still wore them.” You didn’t, too be honest, but with the long day of fresh air and a strong sun on the mountainside your eyes had grown tired. You shrugged at her, as she placed a soft kiss on your lips. Lovesick look in her eyes. “You’re so hot.” She mumbled, more to herself. You hear though, and the blush runs up your neck. 

You moved to get your work off your lap but she stopped you, pulling you back into her embrace and you automatically moved your knees up to rest your sketchbook there. “Carry on, please.” her chin rested on your shoulder. You hesitated, you didn’t come all this way to not spend time with the blonde, you wanted to soak in every minute. You wouldn’t be happy if she started to kick a ball around in the kitchen. She could sense your hesitation, “please. Remember, I like the sound of your pencil.” she moves your free hand to her bare thigh, “and it gives me goosebumps.” You fell in love again over those 6 days. You never fell out of it. But maybe you both just needed reminding. You felt whole, your communication about how you were feeling had worked, Alexia had listened. You just had one worry though, as the plane landed back in Barna you couldn’t hold it in. “Alex.” you said, before the seatbelt sign came on, gripping her arm lightly. “This was the best trip of my life. Thank you.” Her smile cracked her face, and she looked immensely proud of herself. “Mine too, Amor.” she agreed, easily, her face was peaceful . “But. I can’t go back to how things were again, si? I don’t think I could survive it, not after this week.” she's already shaking her head. “It won’t, I promise. I will not let that happen. Me and you, Si? That is all that is important” you take a moment, “And Pabs.” you amend for her, breaking the tension. “Si, of course” she rolls her eyes, “and Pablo Petcatso.” 

When somebody loved me Everything was beautiful Every hour we spent together Lives within my heart When she loved me

“Hey, Al?” you shout, into the living room as you enter your flat. It's been a few weeks since you returned from your impromptu get away. A busy few weeks. You have been booked up and Alex had to make up for the time she had lost, Barca were still in 4 competitions so the match load was heavy. You could see she was trying though, so that made the darkness that had started to creep back in more bearable. She wasn’t home from training yet. Which disappointed you more than usual. You were giddy. 

You had just found out that your art had been selected to be shown at a huge gallery opening in the centre of the city. An established and high-end gallery. It was a big deal, and it was potentially your big break. You got flutters in your stomach even thinking about the commissions it could make you. Pabs popped his head around the door and you picked him up giddily and span him around, his meow in response you took as a congratulations as you danced and laughed. You didn’t hear the door behind you open but you heard your favourite voice in the world, “And what have I walked into here, hey, a party with my favourite two? Without me?” Alexia laughed.  “Alex, we're celebrating!” you let Pabs free from your grip as he scurried away from his crazy mama. Her arms loop around you as you move into a slow dance, grinning up at her; “Ah, Si? And what are we celebrating?” “I got chosen! For the gallery!” Your feet leave the floor as the taller girl fully brings you into her arms, lifting you and spinning you around in glee, the squeal she lets out is full of childlike joy. “Of course you did! You are amazing!” she plops you back down and attacks your face with kisses. “I’m so proud of you Mi Amor and I am so excited to see your gallery. Oh I can get all dressed up and be your arm piece!” The thought brings you pure joy, the image of Alexia standing by your side, proudly, champagne in hand. Your Mami and Papi and Eli and Alba all present. Pabs in a little bow tie. “Si?” you ask, shyly, much more used to being by her side, “You’ll come? It is in 4 weeks. The 16th. You should be just starting on break.” A shadow of sadness passes her face at your insecurity, “Amor even if I was not on break I would not miss this for the world. If I had the world cup final I would call in sick. I will be there.  I will be the girl with the biggest bouquet of flowers in all of Barna with the lovesick look on her face.” It had been a whirlwind of a month, you had to put the finishing touches on your pieces. 

You have chosen to showcase your best landscapes. 

Scenes from the road to Valencia, The Square in Mollett, Beach Scenes in Barca, Snow capped mountains of Switzerland.

It was the story of your love for Alexia. Told through scenes only the two of you could understand the significance of. 

In the week leading up to the opening, you would spend late nights at the gallery, setting up lighting with Mapi and your Papi. Eli would walk around straightening frames on the walls. As you settled into bed each night, Alexia would open her arms and bring you into her warn embrace. 

You couldn’t wait to share your love story with the world. Alexia was having a bad day. It started bad. And continued to be bad. First, she woke up alone, which she hated. 

She recalled a kiss to the forehead and a whispered ‘I'll see you later’ before she'd dozed back off.  Then she realised that she had forgotten to charge her phone and was therefore late to training. Well. Not late for normal people. But late for Alexia. Then she forgot her socks and had to steal some of Irenes. She had a bad training session and Patri beat her in all their 1v1’s. And then the icing on the cake. She was dragged out from her gym session to do media which she hated. By the time she had finished the changing rooms were mostly empty, with only Pina and Patri left, scheming together in a corner.

“Ah now, Capi! Turn that frown upside down!” Pina teased her, “Ay, come out for a drink with me and Patri, the girls are all coming later, a bonding session before the break!”

And Alexia would usually say no, she wasn’t one for massive social events. But a drink sounded good. And it was the last day of training before the break.

Which is how she found herself 4 drinks in, deep in a booth in Patris favourite bar downtown. Most of the girls had joined them and laughter and chatter filled the roped off space. Something was missing and it took Alexia a moment to realise that there wasn’t a yapping in her ear.

“Ay, Pina, where are Mapi and Ingrid?” 

“They text the group, they had something on but they’re going to join us after. Ah… here they are!” Pina turned as Patri dragged her to the dance floor. Alexia turned to where Pina had pointed and saw Ingrid and Mapi walking towards her. She smiled and raised her hand in a wave, as they got closer she took in their state of dress; “Ay, sexy mamas, it’s only a night out with the team. Why are you dressed so nice? Have you just come from your wedding?” Mapi looked at Alexia. But really, really looked at her. “What?” nothing. “Maria, what? Why are you looking at me like that? Ingrid?” she faced the usually kind woman but she wasn’t met with her usual smile, “What’s happening? Wh-ohmygod.” It hit Alexia like a freight train. Like 10 freight trains. She physically had to hold onto the chair to her side to remain standing.  “No, no, no, I didn’t, I couldn’t have done.” She starts to pat herself down and pulls her phone out, dead, still uncharged from the night before. She holds it up to Mapi, as evidence, evidence of what she doesn’t know. As though it gives her a lifeline. She knows it doesn’t. “Ingrid? Ingrid please tell me I didn’t miss it.” she asks, desperately. The tall girl looks away, as though she can’t even face what the captain had done. “Alexia.” The rage is barely contained in Mapis' voice. “I can’t even look at you.” Mapi turns to leave, but it's as though her anger wont let her; she turns again and spits out; “Do you think she needed a reminder on her phone to know when the Champions League final was? Do you think… I can’t… I have just come from her gallery opening. Her life's work. A life shared with you. And here you are. At a bar. Celebrating, what?  A game of football? A half season well done? Fuck off. Seriously. Fuck. Off” Ingrid grips her hand and tries to pull her away. All Alexia can do is stand there and take it, it's not a hundredth of what she deserves. “No Ingrid.” She pulls her hand free and pushes her finger into Alexia's chest. “You are a selfish monster. She thought you must be hurt. That's what she thought. She thought you were in a ditch somewhere. She almost cancelled the whole thing to run around hospitals to find you. But then Alba saw you on Patris instagram. And here you are. La Reina.” Mapi looks her up and down, pure disgust on her face. “Your Mamis held her as she sobbed. Alba redid her makeup. I would steer clear of her Papi for months if I were you. She is strong, and she gave a speech.” Alexia couldn’t breathe. You gave a speech? She wasn’t there. She wasn’t there.  “Please, Maria, stop. I can’t listen.” Alexia couldn’t take it. She moved Mapis' hand off her chest and ran to the door of the club. One thought in her mind. Get to you. Get to you. “It's too late Alexia.” Mapi shouts to her back. She ignores her. It can’t be. No It can't be. She jumps out of the uber onto the unfamiliar street. The lights to the gallery are off but she desperately tries the door regardless. Banging on it with her fist in frustration. She lets out a scream into the empty street. Peering through the windows she sees wall after wall of your work. Scenes she recognises from her life. Football pitches. Beaches, Mountains. The scene from your balcony in Mollet. It was all so beautiful. So carefully curated. And she wasn’t there. She takes off at a run. It’s not too late. Mapi is wrong. It’s not too late. She will die if it is too late. “Y/N!” she barged into the apartment. She must have ran 10 miles. “Y/N are you here?” She runs from room to room. But there is no one there. When that's established she plugs her phone into the charger on the breakfast bar and makes her way back through the apartment. She goes into the bedroom. No, please no. The wardrobe is open, your side is empty. She looks around. Your things are gone.

The kitchen remains largely unaffected. Though the picture of you and your parents no longer sits on the shelf. Your trainers are gone from the hall. Your favourite blanket from the couch. She looks at the walls. Anything you had painted. Gone. Alexia always insisted that your art be on the walls, in each home you shared together. “Why would I want strangers work on the walls, Mi Amor? When I have the best artist in the world here?” she would say, making you blush. She was addicted to that blush. She walks back into the hallway. One picture remains in pride of place. The picture you presented to her in her darkest moment. You would never take that away from her. It was a gift of pure adoration. All it does is make the stabbing pain in Alexia's heart worsen. She pushes open the door to your art studio. All that remains are paints and blank canvases. Except. In the middle of the room. The easel. A picture she had seen before, in its early stages. A hand. A hand holding a beautiful flower. But it had changed somehow. Pressure lines had appeared. The flower beginning to wilt under the force. It wasn’t your usual work. Alexia stood closer. Entranced. As she inspected the image she saw the light tease off still wet paint. You had touched this up recently. Her eyes search, frantically for anything of your last moments in the apartment when she catches it. Too light for anyone not searching for it. 11. Blended into skin at the wrist of the image. A tattoo. So lightly painted but it etched itself fiercely into Alexia's soul. This was her hand. This hand that was silently destructive, was hers.  She saw a post it note stuck to the leg of the easel and in your looping handwriting: ‘Love is giving someone the power to destroy you and trusting that they won't use it.’

She brought her hand up to her mouth and let out an audible gasp. She runs into the kitchen and dry heaves over the sink. There, she watches as her tears splash into the marble. And as she watches. She takes note of a single paint droplet. Her tears joined it, creating the most heart crushing piece of work she had ever seen.

God. She used to get so angry at that paint in the sink.

It's been years, she thought, years since she found paint in the sink. How much did you have to lessen yourself in order to be with her?

She collapsed into a seated position. Back against the kitchen cabinet. And brought her knees to her chest. She sobbed. And sobbed. She was joined at one point by Pabs. She thought you’d taken him with you. But no, in a typical act of kindness you wouldn’t leave her alone in her despair.

His little bow tie still sat around his neck, skew-whiff, as he looked at his mama curiously. He licked her nose and she sobbed harder.

Weeks passed.

She doesn’t know how she got through those weeks. Thousands of missed calls. Hundreds of messages. Went unanswered.

Alexia didn’t hear from you. Her Mami and Alba had forgiven her after Alba had found her in a state and unable to look after herself but they made it clear they were on your side. Mapi wouldnt look at her. They wouldn't tell her where you were, they wouldn’t pass on any message.

She was too frightened to go to your Mami and Papa.

She hadn’t trained well for weeks, She arrived at training exhausted. Sleep would never find her. She was barely clinging on. Jona still insisted she play. She was La Reina.

And then she broke. And that's where Irene found her, after another match of lacklustre performance. In a back corridor of the stadium. Broken and staring at the wall in front of her.

A ghost of the woman she was. 

Her phone lay next to her. A message from you. A response to her apologies, her thoughts, the pain she had told you she felt for your failed relationship. 

Finally, Word you were alive. 

3 words in fact. “It’ll pass Alexia.”

[allsassnoclass]

hi hazel! can i ask 6, 20 and 28? -taylor

@jbhmalumm hi taylor! thank you so much for sending these you are the only reason i started my nano project today!

6. Describe your dream home. ooooo i've been thinking about this a lot because i'm trying my best to save for one but i fear it will never ever happen. anyway my friend and i are going to buy a house together when she moves here and we've been talking a bit but a big thing is that we need at least three bedrooms (one for me, one for her, one for a possible future foster child). we would also like a guest bedroom or a finished basement so we can host friends!!! in an ideal world, i would want a sun room, and i want either a large front room or a specific music room so i can have a grand piano!!!! yknow. if i ever win the lottery or get stupid rich and can afford one. the main bathroom should be blue. the kitchen should be yellow. in general, i don't want white walls anywhere. actually if my friend lets me paint the kitchen cabinets i'm considering copying a different van gogh painting onto each of them because my friend also loves van gogh and that would make the kitchen very fun and unique. i am fully willing to go wild with the paint and some basic carpentry to make this house personalized to the both of us. i would also like a fenced-in back yard so that we can have a dog, and i would like a piece of stained glass somewhere (doesn't need to be a full window, i know lots of houses do little stained glass pieces above the front door or something like that). mostly though i want the house to be full of love <3

20. What is something you’re obsessed with? i am so into cobra kai right now it's kind of ridiculous. like. check-the-tumblr-and-ao3-tags-daily into it. i don't know why. i haven't watched the original karate kid movies. i missed the first two seasons because my family watched it while i was at college. i didn't particularly enjoy seasons 3 and 4 when i caught episodes while my sister and dad were watching, but for some reason i got really into season 5 and now i'm watching from the beginning and have made it into season 3 again. it's a karate soap opera but it's my karate soap opera and all of the teen characters are my children and i absolutely love it despite it's shortcomings and i think that there are so many fascinating things you could say about cycles of violence/abuse and trauma and collateral damage and gang indoctrination and some of the dynamics between the characters make me absolutely crazy. i have started writing 4 fics for it within the past few weeks with many more ideas written down. i want to be a fight choreographer so bad

28. Who is the funniest person you know? ooooo this is actually a really difficult question! possibly the friend who i'm getting a house with lol. she cracks me up because she has a really subtle, dry humor, so her jokes and jabs always catch me off guard a little. also i am delighted by her presence :)

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Arcana Brainrot: Blog Rules, Masterlists, Playlist, & Requests Guidelines

Come chat on the Discord server!

Current MC ask game

BLOG RULES:

My inbox is always open for anybody to share their thoughts or ideas - there's a lot currently changing right now, though, so requests will quite possibly not get written (sorry!) as it's easier right now to write for original ideas.

I don't think it needs to be said but hate isn't welcome here. Of any kind.

Please also keep in mind that this blog is PG-13, so whatever comments you make on it will likely be seen by minors. I take their safety seriously, so if there's anything grossly X rated in the comments (I don't see why there should be) I will delete it. If you continue to comment things like that you will be blocked :)

With my older brother rant out of the way, please enjoy the results of me trying to cope with a truly Vesuvian obsession :D

MASTERLISTS: oldest to newest, I'll do my best to update as I post.

All quotes for Arcana characters sent in have this tag: #arcana brainrot quote collection

Because of the link limit for posts, you can find the masterlist for all full headcanons below:

The Arcana HCs : Brainrot's Masterlist

The Arcana HCs : Brainrot's Masterlist, Pt 2

And here is the masterlist for all my mini-prompts, answered ask arcana style:

The Arcana Mini-HCs: Brainrot's Masterlist

The Arcana Mini-HCs: Brainrot’s Masterlist, Pt 2

The Arcana Mini-HCs: Brainrot's Masterlist, Pt 3

The Arcana Mini-HCs: Brainrot's Masterlist, Pt 4

The Arcana Mini-HCs: Brainrot's Masterlist, Pt 5

The Arcana Mini-HCs: Brainrot's Masterlist, Pt 6

A masterlist for drabbles, with an explanation at the top for how they work!

The Arcana Drabbles: Explanation and Masterlist

All the recipes posted by the originals devs from the Arcana universe, with pictures of my own creation attempts and descriptions of how it went!

The Arcana Food

Worldbuilding/character analysis essays ^.^ (not a comprehensive list atm, unfortunately)

The Arcana Essays: Brainrot's Masterlist

Finally got around to fleshing out my self-insert enough to make him a proper MC/ OC!

Bainrot's self-insert MC (Drue)

Vesuviella: my first fanfic. don't get your hopes up (updated sporadically)

Summary: Julian decided to write his own version of Cinderella to be performed in the Community Theatre, and then recruited MC to help him cast the rest of the M6 in the leading roles. Chaos ensues. (There is no determined love interest, MC is friends with the M6 and M6 are all thirsty for MC.)

Vesuviella: All Parts

Arcana Brainrot Playlist: a compilation of all character song suggestions in one Spotify playlist, kept up to date!

Arcana Brainrot Playlist (Spotify)

Arcana Brainrot Playlist (YouTube)

REQUEST GUIDELINES

Generally, I pick from what's in my asks and write what sparks inspiration. If there's an idea you'd really like to see written, you're welcome to message me directly about it! ^.^

I don't write about toxic/abusive relationships or dynamics between MC and the M6 (I get the appeal, I'm not judging, but it's not for me)

I don't write for M6 x M6 ships - side character ships are on the table, though!

All of my work is PG-13. (yes to romantic/sensual themes and references to painful experiences, no to explicit matter or glorified violence/pain/death/toxicity)

I'm willing to do research for topics I'm not familiar with, but there are plenty of things I can't write about just because I haven't lived it and I know an hour of research wouldn't be enough to be accurate (and respecting other people's experiences is important)

I am unfortunately very familiar with what it's like to have trauma/mental illnesses. That said, while I'm very happy to explore how that impacts MC and their relationships, there are some prompts I may take a very long time to do or just not write at all because they would mess me up

In general, keeping the prompt relatively short (a sentence to a paragraph) helps me organize them better! The same goes for asks sent with a visible blog - if I have questions, I can reach out to you for more details! ^.^

Both my asks and messages are open because I love hearing from new people! If you abuse that you will be blocked :)

All of the above points have reasons for them, and are therefore subject to change. If you have an idea that you'd really like to see and you're not sure about, just message me! I can either tell you why I can't do it or I can make an exception depending on the case

RELEVANT FANDOM HAPPENINGS

(I don't do drama on my page, but these are some posts that provide transparency and accountability for some of the things I've been caught up in)

To the Arcana Fandom, From Brainrot

An update on Rai/Kip

[ghostgirl101]

Yellow! Loved your BEN Drowned Dating HCs, they made my heart skip a few beats. Pardon me if this isn't allowed, but could I request some sort of BEN "aftermath" scenario with a reader who's been distancing herself from electricity in order to escape BEN? (A tad bit like Netflix's horror movie Umma if you've seen it) Then one day, electricity pops back intro her life, hauling a BEN along with it who's not about to let you repeat the same mistake without knowing the consequences.

Condolences if that isn't allowed. If not, Ticci Toby Dating HCs instead?

BEN Drowned; You Can't Run

|| Word Count: 2.2K || Angst → Comfort → Fluff ||

A/N: Can do, I've been wanting to write for BEN again, though this did take me a while 🙃 and I'll add Toby headcanons to my list. I've been thinking about some stuff for Jeff The Killer too? I mean, if you want 😎

A releasing click sounds as you pull the final plug out of the socket, flipping off the switches on the wall, the little red strips hidden as they're pushed down. Your hands are trembling, and you stay where you're standing for a few long moments, your uneven breathing all you can hear.

There. It's done. It's gone. Breathe.

Your home is stripped of its electronics, the TV screen dead, your laptop and phones' batteries lying beside them. Even some of the lights are off, every mains switch is turned off, red strips hidden from sight. This was the last resort, and you know it could work if you leave everything off for a while. BEN can't get to you without electricity to power your gadgets, practically all of which have been infected by his presence. He was everywhere, but like this, he can't get to you. You're okay.

It wasn't that BEN had ever tried to harm you, though you knew he could if he tried. The whole thing was just so unsettling and confusing, it kept you up at night. Your life went from normal, to a glitchy, disturbing version of Majora's Mask you'd found at a garage sale, from an old neighbour who was moving out garage sale. His haunting eyes pierced through you every time the Nintendo 64 powered on, empty, like the elegy should be, but very much alive.

He liked playing with you, teasing that was almost taunts if it wasn't for the oddly suggestive nicknames and phrases sneaked into each jumpscare and wrong moment of the game. At one point, you were so freaked out by the boy in the game that you threatened to destroy the cartridge, to anything that could hear you, the fireplace on and humming with burning energy as you readied yourself to take the game out and toss it into the flames.

That was when the haunting, materialized form of BEN Drowned had snapped to life and simply pushed itself out of the TV connected to the Nintendo. Those cold, ghostly pale hands had grabbed your wrists tightly, though not so tight as to hurt, and the same intense eyes from the elegy bore into you, masking any emotion as you dared not to struggle in the being's hands.

"You can't run."

No, you couldn't. What with BEN loose from the game and with free access to anything powered by electricity, you didn't have much choice but to let him invade your life. You kept reminding yourself of the questionable fact that BEN didn't seem to have any intention to hurt you, physically or mentally. He just showed up when he pleased, which was quite often, and watched as you worked, deleting a sentence or two just to get on your nerves, or played as a supposed robot on online games, the screen glitching with his presence every thirty seconds. You'd almost, almost gotten used to it.

It was when you were reminded of exactly who BEN Drowned was and what he could do that you panicked, hence where you are now. Even though at this early-ish point in your time together, most about him remains a mystery to you, you always knew just how deadly his antics could be. He tears people apart by driving them paranoid and crazed by what they see and experience, until they lose all sense of reality, most even ending themselves before BEN does.

Some girl from your class had started mocking you on a group chat, and you knew that as soon as you'd opened it, BEN had most likely read it before you did. Because, just minutes after, her account had updated with several posts that weren't all that wholesome at all, unflattering, candid shots of things no one should share on the internet up for all to see. Then the account was closed, and that was that.

She didn't show up to class the next day. BEN showed you exactly why.

"She shouldn't have done that."

All the blood, all the fear, the abnormality of it all, really got to you. It was one thing having a really odd kind of friend that seemed to just be overly protective, but this was too much. He had the strength to do the same to you. What if you said something accidentally that set him off? What if he got bored of you? How much more stable and normal could your life be if he moved on?

And the only way for that to happen is for him to not have any way to get to you. He has no proper reason to stick around, none that you can figure out, since you aren't one of his victims. What are you, then? Someone that interests him? He won't be mad for long, will he? He'll get bored.

Yes. That's it. He'll get bored. Of course he will.

The tense silence that fills your house when everything's unplugged makes you stay standing still for a long minute, double-checking everything's cut from power. You can make this work, if that's what it takes.

A day went past. Then another. And, all at once, after a boring day in class, your friend approaches you with a bewildered look.

"I did what you asked. Bit weird."

"What?"

"Why'd you unplug everything in your house? Some competition? Look, I managed to swing by yours and find the spare key under the mat to turn your stuff back on. I guess you're gonna need it like that if your parents are visiting. Don't want them to see you living in the stone age, I guess. Oh, and you owe me, bestie."

"Wait, wait," your voice heightened in dread, "I never asked you that. My- my parents aren't coming over! What are you-"

BEN.

Crap.

"What're you talking about? Are you messing with me? I got your text this morning, and since you work through lunch and I don't, it was easier for me to just run in. Look, no biggie, alright? Why do you look so worried? I didn't rob you."

"I- I know," you breathe shakily, forcing as genuine a smile as you can muster on your face, knowing that it would be more than unfair to expose them to BEN too. "Thank you."

"Sure."

Where do you go? Back home, where he's waiting for you? What'll he do? Most likely kill you. If you weren't his victim before, you must be now. Or maybe you can stay with a friend for... for what? Forever?

You can't run.

Every step you take that leads back to your home seems heavier and heavier, and although from the outside, the house looks perfectly normal and quiet, you know there's a fatal storm coming. All you can do now is face it and try to reason with it.

You unlock the door slowly, stepping tentatively inside and closing the door, leaving it unlocked in case you need to make a break for it, in the rare event that you get the chance to. And, as your friend confirmed, there's everything back in, ready for the counter to reset.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up as you feel eyes all around you, and solid static coating the atmosphere, buzzing coming from every screen and making the light twitch when you turn it on. You take one step into the living room before the colour drains from your face, fear rushing over all other thoughts as a bloody spark blinds you momentarily, before revealing the boy. You squeak as freezing hands clamp onto your arms tightly, pressing you back against the wall.

You're forced to look into his eyes, his crimson stare blazing amongst the dark, hollow space around his pupils. They're bleeding, the deep red dribbling down his pale cheeks, his usual amused, smug smirk replaced with something much more sinister. He's scowling in untamed fury, and you can't make yourself take a step back, frozen stiff to the spot. The lights are practically sparking from how much they're flashing with his wild anger, and you can't do a thing about it, except look straight back at him helplessly.

"You shouldn't have done that."

Your mouth's agape, scarcely blinking in dread of what BEN might do, everything you've been scared of just leading to this moment. He speaks with a snarl, and you flinch, trying to make yourself say something to diffuse the situation, even by a little.

"I know," is what you manage to whisper brokenly.

"Are you stupid?! Bored and didn't want me anymore? Found someone better? Shutting me out's the safest way, is that it?!"

You jump as a lightbulb from nearby smashes by the force of BEN's anger, glass spraying over the floor as the brightness winks out.

"Please, BEN-"

"No! I gave you one last chance, remember? You can't play with me anymore. It- it's not fair!"

He's not making any sense. Playing with him? You catch a fleeting moment to study his dark expression, and you can practically see the cracks of genuine vulnerability seeping through his dangerous fury. The lights have stopped flashing as violently as they were a minute ago, and so you take the chance to ask the inevitable.

"BEN... why do you care so much?"

He hangs onto you for a while longer, obviously processing the question as his grip grows looser, clenched jaw relaxing slightly. It doesn't seem to be out of defeat, though, but out of tiredness, BEN's piercing gaze weakening but never leaving your face, his scowl dropping into a frown. He almost looks hurt, concerned, the hints of caringness contrasting with his unnatural, deadly looks.

"If I go, who'll protect you?"

You don't know how to respond, and so you don't, lips clamped shut as you stare at him apologetically, his cold hands leaving your arms.

"Who'll watch over you?"

You blink at his expectant, thoughtful look, shaking your head silently. The blood's stopped gushing from his eyes now, but trickles down his face slowly, eerily like tear tracks.

"Who'll understand you?"

You let out a shaky sigh, your body finally moving, taking a hesitant step closer to him. BEN's eyes drift over to the TV absentmindedly, a frown still on his face, and you dare to take a step closer, reaching a hand out tentatively, your warm fingers brushing against his freezing ones. His eyes snap to you then, and you speak up quietly.

"BEN, I'm sorry."

He doesn't say anything, staring at you indifferently, and you try again, your fingers wandering to his hand, which doesn't pull away at when you lace your fingers with his.

"I'm sorry, BEN, I am. I won't shut you out again, okay?"

BEN still won't answer, and you dither, before doing something that'll either get you killed by shocking stuns of electricity, or his miraculous, unbothered amused smile. You take back your hand to steadily, anxiously wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his cold body close for a hug. He stiffens at the action in surprise, and you squeeze your eyes shut, bracing for impact.

Impact that never comes.

A small poke at your side makes you shrink back with a stifled laugh, and you relax in relief and happiness when you spot BEN's signature smirk, though it's a little milder this time.

"That won't do you any good."

"Oh, come on," you plead, and he raises a brow, clearly enjoying the desperate attention. "I- I was just scared, okay?"

"I know."

"I won't run from you again, BEN. I know you wouldn't hurt me..."

He tilts his head to the side at the last sentence.

"Do you?"

You don't know how to answer the question honestly. "Well..."

BEN seems annoyed and almost exasperated by your response, and you notice how the blood has stopped leaking from his midnight eyes, his red pupils searching and reading you all too easily.

"Would it help if I tell you?"

You nod slowly, uncertain of his motives, but don't move away as he's suddenly an inch away from you, the lights flashing briefly from the electric energy.

"Yes?"

BEN nods, the cold skin of his hands pushing your middle back into the wall again, though much more carefully this time. Then, all too soon, the electric boy's lips are on yours, and your eyes widen in shock at the bold move, and the unusual, addictive feeling. He tastes electric and appley, his lips melding against yours perfectly, and there's nothing you can do but melt into the feeling, letting your eyes flutter shut within a second.

But then it's over after a few drawn-out moments, and you hold back from chasing the sensation as he lingers, his nose bumping against yours and his cool breath tickling your cheeks.

"I'd never hurt you."

You let out a shaky breath, a faded smile on your face.

"You scared me," you admit awkwardly.

"...So did you."

"I'm sorry," you plead again, and he shakes his head dismissively. You know he's forgiven you by the way he looks at you, with no trace of his previous aggravation in his red and black gaze.

"Never mind."

"Can't I make it up to you?" You try asking, but as soon as you've said it, you watch apprehensively as that signature, boyish smirk, that you've surprisingly missed, tugs at his lips.

"I can think of a few ways."

There's no running from that, either.

[ellestra]

Farming content James Somerton style

Edited: I cleaned up sentences, removed typos and added some links

You've probably seen the latest hbomberguy video that highlights plagiarism problem on youtube. He gives several examples many I never heard about but I've been recommended iilluminaughtii before and watched some of her stuff before getting tired of seemingly endless volume (now I know why). But then he gets to the real subject of the video and I did watch a lot of James Somerton videos. And I liked many of them. I liked them a lot.

I didn't give him any money and, as much as it came as relief, I kept thinking how this must feel so much worse for people who did. I thought about supporting him for a moment when he posted (in April this year!) how his videos are getting less views because youtube algorithm and demonetisation of gay creators (it's a real thing so it was easy to believe) and he will be forced to stop creating if people don't sign up to his patreon. But I was casual viewer and he seemed big enough so I didn't. It must feel like such a betrayal to those who created a real community around him. Just like his film production company it's clear now it was another of his scams. It's infuriating how well it worked.

Somerton deleted his patreon now (along with his twitter and discord server) so there is probably no recourse for those affected. The only good thing is that someone big enough highlighted what he did (and brought receipts) so he had to stop. When smaller creators called him out it either went unnoticed or he managed to make himself a victim (and send his fans after them). He actually did what Anita Sarkeesian was accused of and gaslighted his followers about it. His misogyny just adds an extra bitter taste to this.

At the end hbomberguy talks about how if Somerton was open about what he was doing this could've been his niche. He said it just as I was thinking basically the same thing. I'm sure there is a market for field review type of videos. Not review like movie or book review but in academic sense when you take other people articles on the subject and compare to show the state of research on the subject on at the moment.

This kind of reviews doesn't need any original research. The value is in giving people overview of where the field is at and pointing them to the actual research so they can read more in depth about the results. If you already did the search for all the sources this is a perfect format to use them. Most people don't have time or resources to comb through all the resources themselves but they like to learn about it and this is why videos like that are popular. That's why iilluminaughtii, Somerton and al. were able to cash in on it.

But of course this kind of things have to properly cited. And they cannot be just all quotes. You have to make coherent points not just make stuff up for the transitions (lies that actually made Todd in the Shadows make a video not about music). I suppose that's too much work. Too much effort when you need to crank out content to satisfy all the sponsors.

I was glad to find out I already watch most of the queer creators recommended in the hbomberguy's video (and put on this watch list) as an alternative (I would add Caelan Conrad to it - funnily enough I found them through their video about antivax movement). I trained my youtube recommendations well in which way it skews but it's easier to kick out all the obviously awful when you know what talking points to avoid. It's much harder to spot grift when it pretends to care about the same things you care about. Somerton was saying all the right things. It just wasn't his words.

Did he even believe any of it? I bet he'll insist on yes but the laziness says otherwise. It seems like it was all just for the money and fans this angle gave him. That he enjoyed being cool to the audience he built and the stuff it bought him. Be gay do crime for real. Only he didn't write that one either.

[zombeebunnie]

Trembling Essence:💙Quality of life changes + choice progress + backgrounds💙

Hi and welcome new followers! :]

This week focused on quality of life changes with the story based on your choices at the start of the game. There was some art practicing again but I managed to get stuff done!

In my previous game development posts I kept talking about making parallax effects in the game! Here's an example of what it'll look like! I learned a lot and had so much fun doing this. :]

Here's some quality life changes for certain effects in the game:

When I initially added an effect for losing HP it was suppose to light up the edges of your screen. Sometimes it can be hard to see if there's another effect happening on the screen so I went back and gave a small hue effect every time you lose HP instead of it only occurring on the edges of the screen. I don't have an example of this only because I have to go through the entire game to fix it, maybe next week I'll have it all done! :,]

Before:

After:

If the player(Y/N) is feeling very cold a icy effect will be shown around the screen to indicate this. I really loved the original way it looked but the new backgrounds can make it very hard to see now. To fix this I added a touch of white frost around the center of the screen so it'll be more noticeable. I also optimized this image so it takes up less space in the game! :]

Choice progress:

I have been going through and writing out what happens with each choice you make.

Without giving spoilers for this ending I want there to be a variety on what happens when you make a choice but I don't want there to be too much branching for this one in particular. It's pretty straightforward. When it comes to the dialog I found out a way to combine sentences together in a way that makes the pacing flow better. It's a little hard to visualize but when you get to the next statement sometimes it'll stay in the same line instead of dragging the dialog out. I also managed to catch a very early bug that caused the screen to go black if you skipped through the dialog, I am very happy I caught this versus finding this problem later into the game. :,,]

Almost half way there! I redid a few more backgrounds and added some animations to them. Since this game development post is getting very long I'll show more of them next week. :D

Q&A / Ask box is open:

If you have any questions about Trembling Essence/Noah feel free to ask here or on itch.io please. This makes it easier for me to see and answer accordingly! I would really like to hear from you guys!

I appreciate the asks I got recently these past couple of days! I'm trying to get to them when I can including the ones I remember that got deleted. I just need time to answer since I like to respond with doodles/drawings as practice. :]

I think that's everything I have to say right now, thank you guys very much for all of the positive support, I appreciate it! :,,]

[trulyyours-rune]

hii it's me again, I have another idea for a new order 😄

First, Reader is a member of the band and is Bill's partner, so after having a relationship for years, Reader decides to surprise Bill by proposing to him at one of his concerts, Bill was not expecting it (obviously) so he is very excited and ends up crying with emotion and everything ends very nicely and with many kisses 🤗

This one deleted on me when I was right at the end of finishing it, and omg I went crying to my best friend. But I love this one sm (seriously my inbox is blessed by you guys) <3

Warnings: Reader uses guitar, lots of fluff, Bill having stage fright (but you comfort him.), idk just fluff <3

Bill Kaulitz x Male Reader

"Come on! You already got this planned out didn't you!?" Georg complained "I'm just so nervous, what if I screw up? Or if he says no!?" Tom was tuning his guitar slightly, but honestly felt like he was trying to drain your complaints out. (He's also mad because you messed up the tune.) "Do you have the ring?" "Yeah." You took a silver & black ring from your pocket.

(what it looks like)

You shown Gustav and Georg, they examine it. "No way Bill would say no." "Yeah, weren't you and Bill in a relationship for 3 years?" Gustav questioned, tilting his head. "What if he got tired of me?" "No way, he complains and whines whenever you aren't around. I swear it's annoying." Tom rolled his eyes. You put the ring back in your pocket and picked up your guitar, it was already tuned. A nice shade of black, and a pick of your (favorite color).

Bill walked in the room, he looked tense and nervous. You took a notice at this and took his hand in yours. You rubbed your thumb on the back of his hand, he felt more relaxed, it was your way of saying; 'it's gonna be alright' he was in need of it 'cause it always seemed to be right.

"5 more minutes." The manager announced, Tom got his guitar tuned and everything was set. You could hear the roars of the thousands of fans screaming and yelling. Your heart beat faster by each minute, not by preforming. But by proposing.

The time has come for your eardrums to get broken by the screams of fangirls and regular fans. The lights went out and the crowd went quiet, the 5 of you walked on stage, soon to get blinded by the flash of the lights turning back on again. The crowd went wild, you swear you could feel the stage shake a little.

_______

(Time skip cause I have no idea what to write here 🥰)

_______

It was the closing song, Monsoon, everyone sang along. It was honestly beautiful. (Just like Bill 😍) The more Bill sang the more it became to end, so it was really just a "screw it" point. You started to walk backwards were Bill couldn't see you at the corner of his eye, so you stopped playing and flipped the guitar on your back.

Tom glanced at you a smiled, all you could do was smile back. You took the ring out of your pocket. You walked behind Bill, he was about 3 sentences away from finishing the song. Once it ended you bent down onto one knee. Bill went to look at you with a wide smile on his face, but soon had a confused look when he didn't see you.

He turned around to face you, and immediately noticed a beautiful ring and your face he could forever look at. His hand covered his mouth from how shocked he was. "Bill, I loved you everyday without ever stopping, and I never will stop. I want to wake up next to you everyday, and when I do I smile each time. So Bill, will you marry me?" You kept your smile strong, showing off the ring. Even the crowd went silent to hear his answer.

He began to form years in his eyes as slowly took his hand away from his mouth. He nodded before saying "Yes!"

The crowd went wild, you smiled wide and pulled Bill into a tight hug. (Tom was shaking Georg at the side out of excitement.) You took his hand and placed the small jewelry on, and kissing the hand right on the ring. Soon kissing his cheek. Bill put his hands over his face and dug his head into your shoulder, you noticed he was crying so you kissed him softly on the neck.

You brought him off stage and Tom was yelling "Finally!" you and Bill laughed. (Gustav was paying $20 to Georg in the corner after loosing a bet.) Bill was still holding onto you as his eyeliner was down his cheeks, his head still against your shoulder but his hands wrapped around you.

________

I had so much fun writing this for the 2nd time, and not gonna lie I think I did better on this one anyways. <3

[eris-eveningstar]

Ask game!!

8, 12, 18, 19? 👀👀 Am very curious

(I love your writing)

8. if you had to write a sequel to a fic, you'd write one for...

Well, I mean, I haven't posted that many fics, but obvs my main fic is gonna have a sequel post 6th year. Quick warning, as you fall WILL leave on a cliffhanger.

But if I were to choose a general, random tomarry fic to write a sequel for, it would be this one fic I read years ago that really needs a sequel in my mind. I might actually do it one day. Like, a short 20k one shot. Maybe.

*

12. A trope you're really into right now.

Funny you should say that! Harrymort, just harrymort. Voldemort gets his soul pieced back together and falls for Harry. I'm rereading the mirror of eidrokcuf by kayliana for like the millionth time rn. Also an unexpected turn of events by lily_for_real and Paul, Richard, or Tom by Chaos_Bear. I love all of those fics.

*

18. if you keep them, share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a published fic

Oh my fucking god. Yes! Here it is! It won't ever happen but when I was first plotting out the fic months ago this was where my mind went off to.

("Wait!" Harry sputters out, shocked. "You want to give me to him? Like, so he owns me? I'm not some toy to be kept!"

A dark chuckle, and a smug grin from the man sitting behind him, with not a care in the world. "Oh, Harry, darling, that isn't the kind of ownership we're talking about."

His stomach dropped and fluttered at the same time. Harry was pretty sure he was completely spazzed out, and if this meant what he thought it did, then what did that mean for them...?

"Marriage, Harry." Dumbledore finally spoke. "You will be given to Tom in marriage." The man looked undoubtedly sad, in some convoluted way. And if Harry wasn't absolutely certain that Dumbledore thought this treaty was worth it for the greater good, then he may have believed it was genuine.

Harry stumbled, tripping right on—)

And that's it. Haha

Should I post this as a new fic? I might actually write an arranged marriage fic and write this one day. Like, seriously. Just wait for it.

*

19. The most interesting topic you've researched for a fic

Hm...well, I have a pdf of all the books regularly pulled up for when I need to know what happens in canon, and a LOT of hp timeline websites. It's a lot. And overwhelming. God, the things I do for you guys.

Also, omegaverse anatomy. I had to Google that. You're welcome.

***

Anyway, that's all! Hope you guys wanna ask more questions cuz I LOVE talking about my fic.

[bahllinsqrews]

I have a geniune question. In my opinion, nothing magically changes the moment you turn 18, so what difference does it make if ni-ki is 18 or not, and if it weren't for backlash, would you write abt him before he turned 18? I rlly hope this doesn't come off as rude :)

This was a bit confusing to answer and it wasn't rude! No, I would not write about Niki before he turned 18. My morals would not allow me to write about him before he turned 18.

The difference would be how it would affect you in the long run, if you don't feel right about it, you'd delete it or private post it. If it doesn't affect you, you won't do anything.

My source and I end up going by the ethnicity of the person I'm writing about. Niki's ethnicity is Japanese, age of consent is 18.

The sentence in pink is why I, and a few others, went back and forth with people, they kept saying that he was living in Korea and his ethnicity didn't matter. (Cough it does cough)

If it were someone like Huening Kai, where he's family is from multiple parts of the world, I'd have to research the ages for the country he was born in and what ethnicity he stands by if that makes sense.

[tdoong15]

I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED AN ASK I'M SO SO SO SORRY. BASICALLY I SAVED WHAT I WAS DOING TO MY DRAFTS SO IF MY PHONE GLITCHED (SINCE IT DOES IT A LOT) I STILL HAD IT I THEN WENT TO CONTINUE WRITING BUT I DELETED EVERYTHING INSTEAD.

Anyway I'll try to remember as much as I can.

Little!SMC Kid!Nayeon Cg!Jeonghyo

Warnings: yelling, crying(?)

Ipad kid

Nayeon woke up and she felt mentally younger than normal and whenever she was like that she wanted nothing more than to simply watch videos on the TV or her IPad which she kept at the side of her bed. But she also knew that she had to do her morning routine before she was even allowed to even have access to her IPad or the TV because if she had them immediately she would be too distracted and not get anything done.

The bunny left her room and walked to the kitchen to have her breakfast, it was the most important meal of the day after all. When she reached the kitchen she saw her mom and mama preparing breakfast for everyone. "Good mornin' mom and mama" Nayeon waves at them, her voice was loud but a slight tiredness seeped through since she had only just woken up. "Oh good morning Nay" Jeongyeon says when she heard Nayeon's voice, she then passes Nayeon her drink and carries her plate to the table.

Nayeon rushes to the table and quickly eats her Lucky Charms and drinks her juice because she was very eager to go on her IPad and to have some well deserved quality time to herself despite her not doing anything significant. Once she finished her breakfast she ran to her room and grabbed her IPad, then back to the living room where she dived on the couch, occupying all of it since she layed down on it, Nayeon also turned on the TV and put on the new Trolls movie for some noise in the background.

In the hallway, Dahyun, Chaeyoung and Tzuyu were playing a game based on the show called 'Jake and the Neverland Pirates' because they all seemed to enjoy the adventure that the show obviously has. Dahyun decided she was Jake since she was the oldest out of the trio, she also made Chaeyoung be Cubby because she was the shortest and Tzuyu was Izzy out of the process of elimination according to Dahyun anyway.

"Guys wook, it's Captain Hook!" Tzuyu pointed to Nayeon who was peacefully playing on her IPad. Dahyun audibly and loudly gasps for dramatic effect "We need to defeat the bad guy so we can get our tweasure" She declares, and lifts her foam sword, Chaeyoung and Tzuyu copy her action. "Okay on the count of thwee" Dahyun whispers but Chaeyoung was already running to where Nayeon was. "CHAWGE!!!!" Chaeyoung yells, Dahyun and Tzuyu were closely behind Chaeyoung before they hit Nayeon repeatedly with their foam swords.

Nayeon tried to use her hands to block the attacks until she got really annoyed and started screaming "STOP! I DON'T WANT TO PLAY YOUR SILLY AND DUMB BABY GAME!" Nayeon then grabbed the swords and broke them. Dahyun, Chaeyoung and Tzuyu looked in shock for a few seconds then they started crying loudly and running off to Jihyo and Jeongyeon. Nayeon on the other hand grumbled to herself and she went back to playing on her IPad but she had a frown on her face when she played.

Jihyo and Jeongyeon were in Jihyo's room casually talking about videos they've seen on Instagram until the door burst open and the three youngest were sobbing while they ran onto the bed in their pirate costumes. "What's wrong sweeties?" Jihyo's voice was filled with worry and concern because it wasn't everyday that she had to deal with all three of SMC bawling their eyes out. After a few minutes Chaeyoung was able to choke out some sort of a sentence "N-Nayeonie mean. She bwoke our swords and said she wouldn't play with us." Jeongyeon and Jihyo both let out a sigh out of relief that it wasn't something really serious but it was out of disappointment because of what Nayeon did.

"Hey it's okay, I'll go talk to Nay now about her behavior" Jeongyeon says softly whilst she stands up from the bed and walks to the living room, leaving Jihyo to calm down the maknae line, which was surprisingly easy because they all fell asleep after they tired themselves out due to their massive crying session.

Jeongyeon walked into the living room and spots Nayeon pouting as she played her game called Project Sekai. "Nayeon why did you make Dahyun, Chaeyoung and Tzuyu cry? I didn't expect you to do something like that" Jeongyeon shakes her head out of disappointment. "Well I'm not gonna play a stupid pirate game because only babies play it" Nayeon frowns, she never looked up from her IPad. Jeongyeon decides that she needs to discipline Nayeon for her behavior so she acts on her thoughts. "Alright give me that IPad of yours because you're not having that or the TV for the rest of the day because of your attitude and actions, Nay" Jeongyeon easily grabs the remote and places it in her pocket, the actual challenge was getting the IPad out of Nayeon's grasp.

"Let go of your IPad, Nay." Jeongyeon commands but it was in a calm voice. Nayeon on the other hand wasn't one for giving up so easily "No you let go, old woman!" She retaliates, this then starts a tug of war between Jeongyeon and Nayeon which ends up with Jeongyeon dragging Nayeon across the dorm whilst she tries to get the IPad out of Nayeon's hands. "Hey, Hyo I need some help here" Jeongyeon calls out to Jihyo, who immediately goes over to see what the problem was. "What's going on?" Jihyo asked and her presence was enough to make Nayeon let go of her IPad and try to look innocent.

"Mom was being mean to me mama" Nayeon gave her best puppy dog eyes, which Jihyo didn't fall for this time. "Are you sure it wasn't because she was disciplining you because you've done something naughty?" She questioned Nayeon, who immediately frowned and gave up her act. "Yeah... But it's not my fault that they hit me constantly with their swords." Nayeon looks down at the floor and she messes with her hands. "We understand that Nay, but you shouldn't break their toys. Would you like it if they did it to one of your toys" Jeongyeon knelt down to meet Nayeon's eyes. Nayeon shakes her head and she finally understands what she actually did and how it was bad.

"Right, you're going to sit in timeout for five minutes and once you're out go apologize to Dahyun, Chaeyoung and Tzuyu" Jihyo tells Nayeon in a gentle tone. Nayeon went to the timeout corner without any complaints and she sat down in complete silence. After 5 minutes, Nayeon expected to be told by her mom or mama that her time was up, instead she was greeted with Tzuyu's face in front of her own face as well as Dahyun and Chaeyoung next to her ears. "Mama and mommy said that your time is up. And you need to say sowwy to us." Tzuyu explains quietly, she decides to stay in the same place.

"Chop chop, bunny Nayeonie." Dahyun says seriously and directly in Nayeon's ear. This made Nayeon make a face of pain, she then shuffled backwards so she could see all three of them. "I'm really sorry for being a big meanie earlier. Can we play together?" Nayeon says as nicely as possible. Her question made SMC's faces light up in excitement at the idea of actually playing with their older sister. "Yes! Play with Nayeonie!" Chaeyoung cheered as she grabbed her fixed sword behind her back, Dahyun and Tzuyu also grabbed their swords from behind their backs.

The rest of the day, until dinner time was filled with laughter and Screams as Nayeon was chased around the house by DaChaeTzu who recklessly waved their foam swords even when they weren't close to Nayeon. They carried on with their totally accurate swordsmanship skills until Nayeon showed them the treasure, which was only a box full of her toys but in their imaginations that was the gold they wanted.

Hello everyone as you could tell from the very first thing I did an extremely dumb thing. However, on a different note I've just been allowed to go on my break from work and college and thankfully everything that I've ordered has come this year instead of it being lost in shipping. Also a fun fact, my dog believes in Santa because normally she falls asleep at midnight but on Christmas Eve she falls asleep at 9 at night.

[luthordamnvers]

8 & 18 & 19 & 24 & 30

👀❤️

8. if you had to write a sequel to a fic, you’d write one for…

A sequel itself, I think I would love to explore medieval AU fic. I have no idea what about, but I loved that little world. Also, 23'sSupercorptober, also same thing. I could keep writing on that world, I'm just not sure what about 😂 ALSO ALSO, for mayhem fic @snowydragonscave and I had to actively stop ourselves because we could have kept writing and adding details, but we felt that we were running out of time.

18. if you keep them, share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a published fic

This was from mayhem's fic, I did include part of it (i think, it's a blur) but think I rewrote it. I don't tend to keep many deleted scenes. This was my first draft of the start of the fic, but it felt confusing and disjointed, so back to the chalkboard i went, lol. She loves a routine. She wakes up at 6:10 AM, takes a quick shower and hits the building’s gym. She stretches and uses the treadmill for 10 minutes, before hitting the rowing machine for 20 minutes, in 1-minute intervals training, and then she does some stretches to cool down. She returns to her own penthouse, to take a more relaxing shower, painstakingly apply makeup over her body and face, and dresses herself for the day. Sometimes, she even has a quick breakfast; most of the time, she drinks a cup of espresso, and runs towards the door. It works for her. Once upon a time, she would do some extra squats and deadlifts at the gym, to keep up with her fencing training, but that was when she was a too young college kid and didn’t have a company to run. Now she can dedicate no more than 35-minutes daily to her workout, to make it to the office before 8:00 AM.  She’s still getting used to her new routine, after years of avoiding LuthorCorp, now it’s been almost a year since she had to face the reality of taking over the company. In all honesty, no one was happy about it. Not the board, not Lex, definitively not her, but the Luthors have majority Lillian just put her name forward, for only God knows what reason, when Lex was arrested.  Everything just piled up and was what made her take the decision to move an entire company to the other side of the country. Because her brother went into a murderous spree, to kill one single being. Her first move as acting CEO was to move headquarters. The next one was to rename the company, separate it from the Luthor name, maybe it could survive whatever sentence Lex was about to get. The move has been in the works for almost a year, and Lena has been traveling to and fro the west-coast since the decision had been made and she assumed the charge of her family’s company.

19. the most interesting topic you’ve researched for a fic

I really liked the research about witchcraft, actually. it was very superficial, of course, but all the meaning of flowers and intention was really fun. I do really superficial research, tbh, especially when I realized that I was doing pretty deep research and never using it, or it was like A LINE in the fic, and that took so much time that I figured I just needed to check if I could get away with it 😂

24. how do you recharge when you’re not feeling creative?

In all honesty, part of my brain is always thinking about creating something, it's not something i can turn off, but, when i'm in no writing mode, I read fics, watch movies and tv. Go for a drive. Lowkey always watching youtube. Recently i've been trying to draw more, tho, i think that counts as a creative thing???

30. share a fic you’re especially proud of

Will forever be proud of my first one [D.E.B.S. AU]

Thank you for asking, darling 💜

[Ask Game]

[the-eclectic-wonderer]

5, 18 & 19 for the fanfic ask!

Hello and thank you for the questions!!

5. first sentence of the fifth paragraph of an unpublished WIP

“I have to say, Blanche,” Rose says, settling back against Blanche’s side, “I know you explained it to me, but I still don’t get it.”

18. if you keep them, share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a published fic

I don't really keep deleted sentences/paragraphs, unless they're full concepts for a scene that I might want to use in another WIP, but I did find a couple of sentences from an early draft of i would have said impossible [...] that got heavily edited by the final cut. I'll bold the parts that got kept in the final work:

"She likes to think she hid it well. She tried to, at least; bit back the most acidic jokes, tried to keep a hold on her sarcasm. It's not her roommates' fault if she's had a bad day, is it? So she tries. She listens, and she's patient, and she's affectionate -- and they seem happy. That must count as a success.

And yet, when she's finally alone in her room and ready to call it a night -- then Rose comes, carrying tea and cookies on a tray.

It's strange. She told Ma earlier that she'd like to be alone tonight, and before the door opened she only wanted to get into bed and forget everything until tomorrow morning. Then Rose came in, and she'd be lying if she said a single hint of her perfume and a single glance at her reassuring smile aren't enough to calm her nerves."

The gist of the passage remained more or less the same, but I hope it counts anyway!

19. the most interesting topic you’ve researched for a fic

I'm not sure I can choose the most interesting one -- I love learning and I've had a lot of fun with every rabbit hole I've found myself in for a fic! The most charming one, though, was definitely the little ornithology detour I went on while I was writing sonata for trio, which was a classic case of 'I only needed to find the right simile to add in this sentence, how the hell did I end up on the Wikipedia page for the American Robin?'. I learned a lot, and birds are so cute -- especially robins!! I had a great time reading about them :)

(I'm not counting my research on karst and sinkholes as a valid answer for this questions, because I already knew the topic well enough, but I did spend a lot of time fact-checking what I wrote. I don't want to spread misinformation!)

[✍️ more fic writer asks!]

[lemmetreatya]

Jotaro x Black!fem Reader

Request for @crypticspacecat

SO SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER! Life has been so hectic and I just haven’t had the time to write! I also accidentally deleted the request in a draft so I had to go fish it out from my emails 😭💕 But alas, I have this! Enjoy <3

I also have a similar story over on AO3 that I’m updating from time to time so if you’re interested, read it here!

After classes, everyone went to hang out at Big Ife’s Diner.

It wasn’t the most picturesque place in town — it could really do with a design scrub up and a fresh coat of paint — but it was hearty, reliable and the owner, Ife herself, was exceptionally compassionate towards high school kids. Thus, claiming itself as the official unofficial meet spot. 

Everyday, once school was out, at least a hundred kids would pack themselves into the diner and loiter outside. The retro jukebox, hooked up through a reworked audio-jack, would play the current top songs, playing mildly beneath the general chatter of the diner.

You yourself were always at Big Ife’s but for reasons different to your classmates.

You on the other hand worked at the diner because you needed wanted the money and it was the only place willing enough to hire someone with little to no experience. Big Ife was also your aunt so you got the job easy enough; it was a win-win. 

You didn’t mind helping out at the diner but it definitely wasn’t something you were built to do. Constantly putting yourself in front of a lot of people to be perceived was far from the best job to pick. Still yet, most of the students that retrieved their orders from you paid you no mind. Too engrossed with the conversations they were simultaneously having with their friends and minds fixated on their impending meals — Most of the time, you got away with not having to directly interact with anyone. 

Most of the time, that is. 

“Uhh…Medium, no, Large Big Griller meal?!” 

You called out the ready order, quickly double checking on the side of the metal meal box what letter was written. It was a L. 

“Large Big Griller, right?” 

The man in front of you clarified the correct meal size. You nodded without meeting his eyes, automatically sliding the tray in his direction. 

“Yep. Enjoy.” 

Large hands in exchange for your much smaller ones took ahold of the tray. 

You stood back, awaiting for the next order to be passed onto you but within that time you realised that the man was yet to move away from his station. 

Maybe they’re just retrieving utensils, you thought. 

Waiting out the looming presence, you kept your face downcast, aiming to look everywhere but face forward. But alas, the figure continued to loiter right on the other side of the counter. What did this person want? Did they need assistance with something? Was their order wrong? 

Deciding to bite the bullet, you mentally prepared yourself to take a look. What was the worst that could happen?

As your eyes slowly glanced up to meet the face of the individual, your breath slightly hitched and caught in the back of your throat. 

There, before you in all his mighty stature and glory, stood none other than school heartthrob, Jotaro Kujo. 

He was the type of person who you instantly understood why there was a hype about him. Jotaro wasn’t loud or paraded around for attention. If anything, attention gravitated towards him rather than he go out of his way to look for it. He was never known to openly talk to people first. Even the few other boys within his friendship group barely got full sentences out of him, so to have him stand here in front of you and stare you down with teal eyes, you could only wonder what he wanted from you. 

“C-can I help you?” You asked. 

Jotaro may as well have bore deep fried holes into you. His concentration was fierce as his eye washed over the top half of your physique that peaked over the counter. You on the other hand could feel your hands become clammy and underneath your arms prick with sweat. 

Briefly, you wondered if he normally imposed on others like this? After what seemed like aeons, he finally spoke. 

“You go to our school.” He stated. 

You blinked a few times. 

How on earth were you supposed to respond to that? Yes, Jotaro admitted to having known of your existence but he didn’t give you much of to reply to. Hell, now that you think about it, he didn’t even ask you a question.

Bunching your already creased apron within your hands, you struggled to find words. 

The man only watched as you fumbled with what to say. Suddenly your mouth felt parched. 

“Uh—I…I know you.” 

No! That’s not what you was trying to say! 

Jotaro raised his eyebrows in clarification to your words, making you mentally panic in response. The most popular boy in all of school was suddenly talking to you and this is how you responded?! Girl, get a grip! 

“No, sorry. Ignore what I said. I— I meant, that I know you. Like, I know of you. Seen you around a few times at school.”

The look on Jotaro’s face was still condescending, stoicism marbelising every muscle in his face. You could also feel your aunt’s eyes pree you from the cash register. She wasn’t saying anything now but she was definitely going to later in regards to how you were holding up the orders. 

Unsure what to do — or say, concerning the man in front of you was no longer talking, you took one of the pending trays from the side, ready to call out the next order. 

However, before you even got a chance to speak, another person intervened. 

“Yo, what’s taking you so long? Hurry up, man.” 

The brash individual who you knew as Jean Pierre Polnareff brisked up to Jotaro’s side, automatically hanging over the broody man’s arm to steal a fry from his meal. 

Jotaro’s face seemed to contort in reaction to the theft but he didn’t verbalise his discontempt. 

Due to only being in one of his classes, you briefly knew what Polnareff could be like, but anyone who encountered the Frenchman would instantly be able to tell you he was miles different in personality to Jotaro. 

He was loud, brash and constantly putting himself in attention’s path. He wasn’t a mean person but there was an air of cockiness to him that could easily be interpreted wrong.

You weren’t particularly the fondest of him but God, were you glad for his presence right now.

Jotaro tried to say something against his friend, his cobalt eyes drawing back to you but unable to say much in defence. In the end, Polnareff dragged Jotaro back to the booth where his other friends sat, leaving without another word uttered to you. 

The rest of your shift had gone along fine, void of Jotaro and his friends and any more embarrassing situations. Despite that, you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t replayed the scenario in your head over and over again. 

When your shift was over and you had bid your aunt goodbye, you left the diner from out the back, shutting the metal door behind you with a screechy grind. Home wasn’t far from the restaurant but you had to go a bit out of your way to get back due to the trickiness of the route. However, it wasn’t much of a problem concerning you could always listen to music to pass the time.

Setting out on your way with headphones in and music blasting, you became somewhat oblivious to your surroundings. However, unbeknownst to you, an overshadowing figure lurked by your side from the moment you had left the diner. 

It's only when you had stopped at the top of the road, looking both ways to see which way to cross, when you realised you weren’t walking alone. 

“God! Jotaro, you scared me.” 

Lo and behold, there Jotaro was, standing provokingly eerie next to you, broody as ever as he loomed over you. 

With your hand on your heart and your headphones now around your neck, you couldn’t bear to look at him. You stepped to the side, a pace away from him regarding his close proxemics. 

Seeing how disturbed you were, the man shuffled his feeting where he stood although seemingly indifferent. He did however apologise.

“Sorry.” His voice rumbled. 

You quickly glanced at him, noticing his disassociated attitude and seemingly uninterested demeanour. You’re not sure what his problem was or why he was there but without asking much else, you placed your headphones back on and continued to walk home. 

However, without another word and with the energy of a lost puppy, the large man continued to walk beside you. Which was fair, you thought, because maybe he lived in the same direction and just happened to go your way. Although once he had turned three times in the same direction and still attached to your side, you thought to consult him. 

Turning down the volume of your music, you decided to speak up.

“Do you…do you go home this way, too?” 

“No.” He curtly replied.

“Oh.” You pondered back. 

For a few more steps, the both of you continued to walk side by side but you couldn’t help but allow your mind to wander to a place of worry. If Jotaro wasn’t going home but kept following you, what exactly was his motive? Worse yet, who else was behind this?

“Don’t you normally go home with your friends? Where are they?” You turned to look behind you, expecting to at least see hiding figures behind a shaking bush but alas, there was nothing. 

Reaching his hand up, Jotaro briefly scratched the back of his neck. He kept walking besides you, his words only proceeding after he produced a period of silence.  

“They’ve gone. I waited behind to walk you home.”

Things were getting a bit too confusing now. With your eyebrows creased, you posed more questions. 

“Wait, what? Why are you walking me home— What’s going on?”

Jotaro turned his face away from you before he reached up to tug his cap down over his eyes. 

“Good grief woman, you ask too many questions.”

Your mouth briefly parted to reply but you decided against it seeing as Jotaro didn’t like the interrogation. You guess that’s your fault for getting a bit too comfortable with him concerning he was walking next to you. Although you suspect it was in your right seeing as he was the one following you.

But alas, you abided by his wishes and kept your quarry of questions to yourself. You guess you could enjoy his company as it was for now.

However, as time went on and your journey was coming to an end, you wondered if saying nothing was the best thing.

Despite his devout vow of silence, Jotaro’s presence came off as natural. You’ve heard slimy rumours that although he didn’t say much, he had an austere for “physical” communication once aggravated. However, within the past 20 minutes you’ve spent with the man, you’ve felt nothing but secure. Never once have you felt scared or unsafe walking home before but you’d be foolish to deny the added safety he granted you simply by being there.

You’re not sure of the popular boy’s intentions and you never knew when this opportunity would arise again. You might as well have been dreaming seeing as how absurd the situation was.

Yet despite your usually shy demeanour and his previous command, initiating conversation was the only thing on your mind.

Softly chewing at the bottom of your lip, you contemplated.

What exactly did you have to lose?

“You don’t speak much.” You raised.

Jotaro continued to walk alongside you, hands buried deep within his pockets. At first you thought he hadn’t heard you — or ignored you — whatever seemed to burn less, but he then turned his head down to look at you, turquoise eyes piercing.

“What does that mean?”

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel a flutter bounce within your chest. His voice being seldom used had it’s perks.

“Well,” You casually shrugged your shoulders, trying to keep your cool. “You haven’t said anything in the past twenty-ish minutes so forgive me if I’m under the impression that you don’t speak much.” 

Jotaro continued to look over you, his face attentive on the way your expression contorted with what you had to say, before continuing to look straight ahead again.

“I forgive you.”

“Huh?” You garbled.

The both of you stopped at the top of the road, waiting for the small red man to turn green.

“You said to forgive you for thinking I don’t talk much.” He said.

“Oh. Right…”

Jotaro was such a confusing individual. He always focused on the minute details of the words you said, like an abridged intentive listener. Nothing about this situation or this man felt real. You closed your eyes in thought as you slightly shook your head.

“I—Sorry, I’m just still kinda confused why you’re walking me home. I dunno if this’sa prank or anything but if it is then please… stop.” 

The little man turned green and so the both of you took that as your cue to cross. Jotaro replied once you both got to the other side.

“Why would it be a prank for me to talk or walk you home?”

“I dunno, it’s random.” You flailed your arms. “You don’t even know me like that, it just seems weird to walk home someone you barely know.” 

“But I do know you. We go to the same school and I know where you work.” Jotaro shrugged his shoulders. “And I’m about to know where you live.”

An automatic shiver ran along your spine.

“I—Okay, Jotaro, that just sounds borderline creepy but I don’t know … just…just stop playing games with me.” 

The man’s skin seemed to slightly redden at his implied stalker behaviour but you wouldn’t have known. You yourself were too busy fighting down the urge to scream into your hands at the prospect you were even having this conversation with the infamous student.

Tugging his cap over his eyes, Jotaro replied to you.

“I’m not playing games with you.”  At first, you thought that was all he was going to say but he promptly followed it with: “I’m walking you home because I want to walk you home.”

Stopping in your tracks, you momentarily freeze at the stoic man’s confession. Jotaro carried on for a few steps, seemingly unaware of you no longer being besides him before pausing to stare back at you. For someone that was supposed to escort you, he sure could be inattentive.

Seeing as you didn’t say anything or give an explanation for your untimely pause, he spoke up first.

“Sorry, have I said something wrong?”

Quickly shaking your head, you faltered in your stepping before catching up to the man.

”No, no it’s not… It’s not you. I just…”

You sighed before continuing.

“I’m finding it hard to believe all of this. Like the fact that you’re willing to talk to me through your own volition? Why is it now? Why all of a sudden do you want to talk to me? Before today you’ve never so much as looked my way so why now?” 

There was an unfamiliar look of confusion on Jotaro’s face. Clearly things were clearer to him than they were for you but you were finding it so hard to come to terms with that.

“Because I saw you at school and then I saw you behind the counter.” He mansplained.

With a groan, you flung your head back slightly before stomping a few feet forwards.

“You’re not making any sense, Jotaro.”

You turned back in his direction, distress clearly riddling your face.

“Everyone goes to the diner from school but you don’t talk to them? I go to school everyday, I work at the diner most days and I’ve always served you. Why is it only now you’re paying attention to me?”

That seemed to even gag Jotaro as the man wore a slight unexpected look of surprise on his face. It didn’t last long as he was quick to recalibrate.

“I dunno.” 

With a roll of your eyes, you turned back into the direction towards home and started to walk, uncaring if Jotaro was following or not. How on earth did the man expect you to take him seriously when he couldn’t even give you basic explanations?

So much of him seemed so different to you and yet you couldn’t help but feel annoyed at how similar his presence seemed.

You weren’t a naturally outgoing person but you sure as hell wasn’t a pushover. If Jotaro couldn’t even give a simple answer to why he had sparked interest in your existence, why should you care or even give him the time of day?

You didn’t expect the man to chase after you. After all, this was the Jotaro Kujo we were on about. However, it’s only when you felt a large hand suddenly engulf one of your own that you wondered if you had made a miscalculation in character.

With your shocked expression glancing up at the school heartthrob, the man spoke whilst his attention continued to face forwards.

“I don’t know why it took me so long to notice you and I wish I could have done so sooner, but you’ve caught my attention now and that’s all that matters.”

As he finally looked down at you, you finally noticed the soft vermilion tint over the apple of his cheeks.

“And from now on, I’ll be walking you home every day.”

With an almost choked expression, you finally voiced your feelings over the bizarre turn of events.

“Ah—Tuh! And who said you could do that?”

Jotaro momentarily frowned, his thick eyebrows creasing just over his eyes.

“Would you not like that?”

You weren’t sure what came over you but a slight smirk washed over your lips. With a squeeze of the hand that was currently holding your own, you shrugged.

“I don’t know. We’ll have to see how well you hold up next to me first.”

He didn’t laugh. No, Jotaro didn’t laugh, but you definitely saw the edges of the man’s lips turn upwards, his hat now covering over his eyes as he pulled it down with his other hand.

“Good grief.” He said, before saying more quietly, “What the hell have I gotten myself into?”

[starboye]

Yaknow i looked you up on here (like ur blog, i was searchin for you at the time) and i saw a lot of hate about the fact you write for matt, chris and nick and yeah i get that they were uncomfortable when they saw fanfic's of them in that light but they went looking for it knowing (as people had warned them that they wouldnt like what they saw i believe) that it wouldnt be something they would like, its just baffling that people are hating you for something that was and still is being written, like people we get it they dont like whats being made in their image but their never going to find it at all if they dont go looking for it and if they do go looking for it then they have some problems, its literally fanfiction it's not real and some of the scenarios out there never will be.

— 🏎

its just weird as fuck bc like they hated on me since matt and Chris are straight and they wouldn't like this being written about them but it's like they could never see these unless they search for them

And another thing is do they really think matt and Chris would do all the shit they say in their fic???? fuck no bc it's fiction and it's meant to not be taken seriously so like I can write what I want

And if they have a problem block me point blank end of sentence but no that @/bernardsbendystraws bitch was hating on me when she had like 4k followers and I only had like 76 and was basically sending hate to me but wanted me to apologize

Like no bitch fuck you and your followers and there were some really nice people that came to me and said what they were doing was wrong and I still appreciate them

it's like you don't have the right to judge someone on what they right, sometimes I don't like what people write in their fics but I don't send hate to them and also the bernardbendystraw bitch also tried to say I was sending hate to her inbox on a separate account when why the fuck would I want to do that when I never do such a thing

if I have a problem with someone I'm going to say it to you not anonymously but publicly and it's just like that, and plus she wanted me to apologize for writing what I was writing and also wanted me to apologize for the hate in her inbox when just like my supporters was hating on her people, her supporters were sending me death threats and hate

and I sadly did apologize and delete my work but with what I know now I would've kept it up and told that bitch to cry about it, and now I have like 80+ accounts blocked since they continue to hate on me

I was thinking about this a little earlier this week like why did I even back down but at least my fav fic writer @untilwedont was supporting me so that's a plus to it all but if I could go back in time I would've drag that hoe through the mud fr fr

Sorry for ranting but I just had all that on my mind so thx for asking I had to let that out