#i know for a fact i am definitely missing people | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

leahwllmsn · 6 months ago

Text

somebody to you

alexia putellas x reader

word count: 9.6k

You’re not a footballer and knowing that your girlfriend is one of the best footballers in the world… you definitely think Alexia deserves better than you. Maybe someone like her ex—World Cup winner, Jenni Hermoso.

; angst, fluff

When you first met your girlfriend, Alexia, you had no idea who she was.

Football was the last thing you could ever be interested in. How were you supposed to know that the blonde in front of you was one of the best footballers in the world?

Whenever you recall back to that moment, you could still remember every single detail—her hair up in a messy ponytail, a pair of sunglasses resting on top of her head, and her faded grey sweatshirt paired with light blue jorts. (Who the hell wore jorts?) Not to mention the permanent scowl etched on her face. She made smiling seem like a chore.

When it was her turn to order and all she did was point to the menu to show you what she wanted, you frowned because, a) that was so rude—how hard was it to say that she wanted a hot chocolate? but b) she looked so damn hot and you were a sucker for pretty, bratty girls.

She was perfect.

When you decided to shoot your shot and wrote your number on her cup (and a note that went: you should smile more often, I haven’t seen it, but I’d bet that it’s the most beautiful smile in the world x), you didn’t think she’d do anything about it.

Imagine your surprise when you received a text from an unknown number later that night.

hola

I just wanted to tell you to do better with your pick-up line

That was a few months ago and now you could confidently say that Alexia’s smile was indeed the most beautiful smile in the world.

It was tough to break down her walls at first, Alexia always exuded a nonchalant vibe, only smiled when she had to, and didn't look like she enjoyed whatever it was you two were doing.

You were never a quitter though. So you kept on texting her, asking if she wanted to go for another date.

She kept on saying yes and that was when you knew that underneath her indifferent mood, she enjoyed your little dates.

Her tough exterior was merely a front and your suspicions were confirmed when one night, she started laughing so hard mid-sentence, causing you to stop whatever it was you were doing because wow, you could listen to her laughter on repeat for the rest of your life.

“Y/N,” she grabbed your face in her hands, gently rubbing your cheeks, her laughter fading into a gentle, warm smile on her face. “You’ve been so patient with my grumpiness. That is a talent.”

“Ale, I really like you,” you chuckled. “That includes your grumpiness.”

“I’m not always like this,” she confessed. You only looked at her in confusion before she told you everything. Who she was, what Alexia Putellas meant to the world, and most importantly, her ACL—the injury that caused her to lose sight of the world for a bit.

“I was just so angry with the world, even now that I’ve healed, I still hated that it happened to me because I missed out for months, I missed out on so many moments. So the bitterness likes to reappear every now and then… That, and I don’t really trust people so easily; people usually want something from me. I didn’t know what you wanted from me.”

“Ale… I had no idea who you were,” you gave her a sheepish smile. “Which might be stupid of me, now that I think about it. I mean, I should know you, shouldn’t I? You’ve won that balloon football award or whatever and it’s ridiculous that I have no idea who—”

You were cut off by a pair of lips crashing into your own. Alexia silencing all your worries with the softest kiss, her strawberry chapstick was all you could taste. She pulled away to rest her forehead against yours, eyes staring at you intently, your favourite smile on display. “I don’t care that you don’t know who I am, Y/N. In fact, I love it. You treat me so normally. Eres mi favorita.”

You couldn’t help the grin on your face. “Am I? You wanna be my girlfriend then, Putellas?”

When all she did was flash you her signature smirk, her eyebrows raised, and an “ask me in a more romantic way, por favor” thrown your way—that was when you realized that you’d broken down her walls completely, and oh you were insufferable. Because the way she looked at you? The way her eyes lit up, her lips slowly curling into a stupidly perfect grin? People would go to war to have someone look at them like that.

You were so head over heels in love with Alexia.

—

Being Alexia’s girlfriend—or wag, as you learned of the term on the internet—was more than you could ever dream of.

You still worked part time at the café where you two met while juggling your studies to finish your master degree. On weekends, you would support Alexia on her games. Cheering her on, not caring about anything else except when Alexia had the ball on her feet.

You were happy in the bubble you and Alexia created.

That was until one Saturday night, you were seated at your usual seat at the stadium among friends and families of the players, when someone plopped down on the seat next to you.

You still weren’t that familiar with football, having only been to ten games in total. You knew the rules, you knew a couple of Alexia’s teammates after stalking them online (you two were still keeping your relationship a secret from everyone else), but that was mostly it.

So you didn’t know who the person next to you was until she offered a small smile, outstretching her hand for you to shake.

Jenni.

The name was a bit familiar, so was her face. You couldn’t quite place where you’ve seen her before though.

“Who do you know on the team?” her voice brought you out of your daydream, wracking your brain on why she looked familiar.

“Uhm,” you stuttered. Right. This was the friends and family section, you couldn’t sit here if you didn’t know anyone. “Alexia.”

Jenni was surprised, you could tell with the way her eyes widened for a split second, not expecting your answer. “Friend of Ale’s, huh?”

You didn’t like how she said your girlfriend’s name. With that hint of… fondness. You suddenly felt a possessive feeling growing in your chest and you just wanted to tell everyone that Alexia is yours.

Jenni stared at the field, her eyes fixating on Alexia. You could see an affectionate smile on her face and that was when it clicked. You’ve seen her on Alexia's Instagram before. Jenni used to be her teammate at Barcelona before she moved to Mexico.

You knew this because in the picture, Jenni was smiling at Alexia the same way. And even though your Spanish wasn’t spectacular, you remembered reading the paragraph Alexia wrote for Jenni and getting the hint at how close they were with how Alexia seemed to think so highly of Jenni.

“You’re her teammate, yeah?”

Jenni turned back to look at you, nodding. “I don’t play for Barça anymore, but we still play on the national team together.”

“Cool.”

Jenni gave a small laugh. “You don’t know much about football, do you?”

You grimaced, “Is it that obvious?”

“Don’t worry about it,” she patted your arm in what was meant to be a comforting gesture, but it made you feel even more stupid and out of place in this whole stadium, where everyone knew what they were getting into when they bought tickets to the game. “It’s just that—not trying to sound arrogant or anything—but usually people know who I am because I used to play for this team. So you not recognizing me straight away gave me the clue that you’re probably not a Culer.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Culer?”

“Fans of the club.”

“Ah.” You were definitely not a Barcelona fan. You were a fan of your girlfriend though, and if that meant you had to be a Culer or whatever it was, then you would be.

So when you laid down in Alexia’s bed that night, you mentioned to her that starting from today, you were a Culer. She burst out laughing and you can feel her grip you tighter, having your face completely smashed against her neck—not that you minded, you had always felt so content being pressed up against Alexia.

“Mi amor,” she cooed, looking down to face you, her hand finding its way to its favourite resting place on your cheek. “When did you learn that?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, starting to feel a bit insecure at this whole thing. “Well, we’ve been dating for three months now—next week it would be four—and I still don’t know shit about football, but, Ale… I’d be a Culer for you.”

Alexia giggled and pecked your lips, smiling your favourite smile of hers (the one that made her eyes sparkle and the small dimples on her cheek to come out).

“You’re perfect, did you know? I love you whether you’re a Culer or not.”

“Hm,” you pretended to be deep in thought. “Then what if I become a Real Madrid fan?”

Alexia gave you an unimpressed look. “Don’t push it.”

“I’m going to Madrid next week with a couple of my friends and maybe I could catch a game—”

And Alexia did what had become her favourite thing to do: interrupting your ramble with a kiss. You had a love-hate relationship with the gesture, because while you do love having her soft lips on yours, it was so annoying to be cut off mid-sentence.

You never complained though. You’d happily get interrupted if it meant having Alexia kiss you like you were the last person on earth.

That night, you buried your uneasiness as a result of your encounter with Jenni deep, deep inside.

(You didn’t know just how important Jenni was to Alexia.)

—

Jenni was in town for a couple of days, you’d later learn.

You would usually go to Alexia’s after you were done for the day, mostly spending the night at hers. That was why Alexia ended up giving you a spare key—so you would be able to come as you please.

It wasn’t unusual for you to have to use your spare key. What was unusual was the sight of Jenni sitting on your girlfriend’s couch, looking surprised at you barging into your girlfriend’s home.

“Hi…” you gave an awkward small wave at her, closing the door behind you as you slowly stepped inside the apartment.

“Oh! Y/N, right?” Jenni stood up to face you and you could tell that this was very much awkward for her as it was for you. “Nice to meet you again.”

You gave her your best smile, trying your hardest not to be rude as you scan the place for any sight of your favourite blonde. “Is… Alexia here?”

“I have no idea where she is honestly,” at that you couldn’t help the way your eyebrows rose to the top of your head. “I’m in Barcelona for a couple of days. I was supposed to meet her tomorrow morning for breakfast but I don’t think I’ll be able to make it. So I figured I’d meet her tonight instead. I have an extra key so…”

You didn’t like what you were hearing at all, but you kept your cool. That was the jealousy inside of you, you knew this. Jenni’s a friend. You really should tone down your green-eyed monster.

“What are you doing here?” It was Jenni’s turn to ask you.

“I, too, have a spare key,” you intended to joke about the situation, but your tone felt off and Jenni can sense it too.

Jenni had a lot of questions, you could tell. It was easy to read the emotions on her face.

You had to remind yourself that she didn’t know you were dating Alexia. She didn’t know that you basically spent more nights here than at your own place. It was natural to be curious as to why there was a random girl showing up at your best friend’s house at 10 pm, with her own sets of keys nonetheless.

Wanting to get out of the awkward situation, you excused yourself, saying you’d meet Alexia some other time, bidding Jenni goodbye.

You texted Alexia a simple good night once you settled in your bed.

When Alexia responded back with a short text back, sweet dreams, mi amor, and not a phone call asking why you weren’t in her bed, you let that feeling of uneasiness return to the surface.

—

You didn’t get to overthink for too long because when you wake up, it was because you felt your bed dip and the familiar scent of your girlfriend engulfing you as she settled behind you.

“Bon dia,” Alexia whispered, wrapping her arms around your waist, pulling you to her. “I missed you last night.”

You turned around to burrow your face into her collarbones, letting out a content sigh. “Missed you too.”

“Jenni told me you visited my place but left immediately.”

At the mention of her name, you froze. What a way to ruin the moment. “Yeah,” was all you replied, which was weird to Alexia considering how talkative you were in the mornings.

“Why didn’t you wait for me, bebita? You always wait for me even when I’m not home.”

You shrugged, “Jenni was there already.”

Alexia went still for a moment, which you thought was odd.

You wanted so badly to keep quiet, but the

nagging feelings that you couldn’t shake grew stronger. “She has a spare key too. Do you just go around giving keys to your apartment to everyone? I thought I was special,” you chuckled, meaning it to be a joke, waiting for Alexia to respond with her usual snarky retort.

When Alexia didn’t say anything, you pulled back from her, looking up to stare at her face. She was looking anywhere but you.

“Ale? I’m only kidding. I know she’s your friend.”

Alexia cleared her throat, “You see…”

You sat up, something about her tone brought up that uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“Jenni’s my ex.”

Ah. That definitely burst the bubble you’d carefully created.

You gave a bitter laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “So your ex still has a key to your place,” you stated. You were about to swallow your sentence when you suddenly felt anger rising in your chest with how blindsided you were. “Did she spend the night?”

Alexia looked like a deer caught in the headlights. You felt sick.

“That’s a yes.”

“Amor…”

You shook of her touch and went to stand up. You looked at the blonde in your bed and you felt your heart crushed. You hated how Alexia looked like a kicked puppy, immediately scrambling to chase after you once she realized you were leaving the room.

“Y/N, it’s not what you think—”

“Your ex still has a key to your place and she stayed the night,” you were mostly repeating it to yourself, trying to wrap your head around the fact somehow.

“She slept on the couch!” Alexia interjected. “Nothing happened, amor, I swear.”

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. You didn’t want to fight with Alexia. Besides, deep down you knew that Alexia wasn’t the type of person to be unfaithful.

“Okay,” you relented, opening your fridge with the aim of making breakfast, trying to busy yourself with something that wasn’t looking at your girlfriend.

Alexia didn’t seem convinced that you’d drop the subject just like that. “There's nothing going on between Jenni and I. She's a good friend.”

You grabbed an empty bowl. “Okay.” You scooped some yogurt out of its jar and placed a spoonful in your bowl. Jenni’s a good friend. Just a friend.

“Mi vida… I know it’s… weird? To still be friends with an ex, but…”

You poured some granola on top of your yogurt. Who the hell stayed friends with their ex? Alexia. Sweet, lovely Alexia.

Looking down at your bowl and seeing a sad, miserable breakfast (just like how you were feeling), you pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling a small headache coming through. You felt like crying but that seemed pathetic so you shoved the feeling away. Jenni was an ex, but she was a good friend. You had to live with that.

“I trust you, Ale,” you sighed. “If you say she’s a good friend, then I trust you.”

She went up behind you and rested her chin on your shoulder, her arms encircling your waist. “I love you,” she whispered into your shoulder, placing a kiss on the exposed skin. “I really do. Jenni and I broke up ages ago.”

They broke up ages ago. That was grand. You were fine. People stayed friends with their ex and nothing happened. Right?

When you didn’t say anything else, just continuing to stare at your breakfast, Alexia poked your side. “Hey,” she placed a peck on your back. “Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad, love.” More like jealous. Or fucking devastated that your girlfriend’s ex was a sexy footballer just like herself. How could you ever compete with that?

“Y/N,” Alexia’s voice brought you out of your thoughts. “Babygirl.”

At that you couldn’t help the laughter that escaped your lips. You turned around to face her, her arms stayed trapping you against the counter. “Please don't call me that ever again.”

“Why?” Alexia smirked, her face inching closer to yours.

“I hate it, Ale, por favor,” you groaned.

Alexia grinned at you, pecking your lips “Hm. I love when you speak Spanish.”

And when Alexia kissed you, any thoughts of your girlfriend’s ex escaped your brain completely.

Alexia chose you. So what if she still hung out with her ex? Plenty of people do. Plus, you trust Alexia. You had nothing to worry about.

—

Apparently it wasn’t Alexia you had to worry about. It was yourself. You were your own worst enemy and all that.

You didn’t mean to let the thoughts run loose.

When Jenni left for Mexico, you were elated. No more running into your girlfriend’s ex and no more ex-girlfriend trying to steal your girlfriend’s time away from you.

You didn’t factor in the fact that Alexia and Jenni were national teammates. So when international break came and both Alexia and Jenni were called up to camp in Portugal…

You felt like you were going crazy.

You knew you were being dumb, but you couldn’t help it. You didn't think that Alexia would cheat on you—that possibility never crossed your mind.

You just couldn’t help but feel incomparible to Jenni.

That was how you went into a rabbit hole of watching every Alexia and Jenni videos on the internet.

It was a mistake, really. A stupid, terrible mistake, because you could see how well they fit together.

Their chemistry on and off the field were something else, you kinda felt stupid to think that Jenni was the one ruining your relationship when it could very well be that you were the one preventing Alexia from being with someone who truly gets her.

Because you were sure that Jenni understood Alexia in ways that you may never do. They had been through thick and thin together—Alexia’s injury, the issue with the Spanish Federation—they won countless of football championships together, for god's sake.

And how exactly were you supposed to compete with that? Alexia lived and breathed football, you wouldn’t step foot inside a football match if your girlfriend wasn't on the team.

You didn’t get this world of hers and you knew that you never would.

Unlike Jenni. This was her world already.

They'd be perfect together—they were perfect together.

You hated how you were able to let your thoughts spiral as you stared at another video of Jenni looking at Alexia like she was the only person in the room.

You knew Alexia loved you, you had no doubt about that, and you loved her too. But maybe Jenni could love her better.

Jenni was perfect for Alexia in ways that you weren’t. With that thought replaying in your head, you turned off your phone and kept it locked inside your drawer.

You were never one to be obsessed with your phone, having gone days without it and being absolutely fine. So that was what you did. Mostly because you didn't want to talk to Alexia.

You couldn’t handle it if Alexia came to the same realization as you—that you were nothing compared to Jenni and she could very much just get back together with her ex.

Just imagining it crushed your heart into bits so you tried your best to push it away as you went through your day.

—

Alexia decided to leave camp a day earlier than she was supposed to. She said she had a family emergency to attend to, which was true, considering you had yet to respond to any of her calls or texts. She must’ve sounded so desperate to return back to Barcelona, causing them to reluctantly let her go.

She got on the first plane available and went straight home. Usually you would stay over at hers when she was out of town, claiming that you always missed her when she wasn’t around and having her scent engulf you was the next best thing.

However, when Alexia entered her apartment and there were no signs of you, she dropped her bag and hurriedly got into her car to drive to yours. She thanked god that your place was only five minutes away.

Quickly putting her car into park, she tried to regulate her breathing and convinced herself that you were fine.

You were fine. You had to be. You were fine when Alexia left for the airport just a week ago.

With the thought that you maybe broke your phone or lost it, Alexia inserted the spare key you gave her and unlocked the door.

You weren’t in the living room. Or the kitchen. So that left one more place. Knocking softly on your bedroom door, she called out your name. When she didn’t get a reply, she let herself in.

No one was there, or in the bathroom. Sighing to herself, she made her way back to the living room and laid down on the couch.

Alexia was never the one to cry easily but she really wanted to. She had no idea where you were, or if you were safe. Never had she felt so helpless before.

This was maybe her fault for wanting to keep you two a secret.

Now she couldn’t contact any of your friends because she didn’t know them.

She took a deep breath and willed herself to focus on where you could be. The café you work at, perhaps? But it was a Sunday and you didn’t work on Sundays because Alexia didn’t have anything to do either and Sundays were your lounging-around-in-bed-until-lunch-time type of days.

Maybe you were at the library. You were going to have your exams next week. Alexia already had your schedule memorized. But it was nearing midnight and you never—

“Ale?” you couldn’t help the surprise in your tone. “Aren’t you supposed to still be at camp?”

Alexia jumped a foot in the air, mostly because she didn’t hear you come in and was scared shitless but also because oh my god, she could finally breathe now that you were okay.

Alexia immediately wrapped her arms around you, she felt like she never wanted to let you go. Ever. “And you’re supposed to reply to my calls, amor.”

Well.

“My phone’s broken.”

Alexia pulled back and looked at you, her face telling you that she didn’t quite believe you.

“My phone’s lost…?” you tried again, giving her a sheepish smile. You were starting to feel bad for ignoring her.

Alexia only sighed in response, dropping on the couch and pulling you to sit on her lap. “I’m just glad you’re okay, mi vida. I was really worried.”

You felt even guiltier now. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d be.”

You were taken aback at the look of pure disbelief on Alexia’s face at your words. You really didn’t think she’d worry about you—with having to go to training everyday, hanging out with her national teammates, having Jenni around.

“That’s…” Alexia shook her head, trying to get her words out. “That’s ridiculous, amor. Why would I not be worried about you?”

You shrugged. “You’re busy, love. I’d understand.”

Alexia quickly shook her head, you were afraid she'd get whiplash with how frantic her movements were. “I am always busy during camp, sí, but never too busy enough for you? Did I do something to make you feel like I would not have time for you? I didn’t realize—”

Now it was your turn to silence her with a kiss, which was a rare occurrence—cool, calm Alexia never rambled.

You felt her sigh against your mouth, her whispers of a soft “te amo mucho” made you go completely limp in her arms.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you reassured her. “It’s just me, don’t worry about it.”

“I will always have time for you and I will always worry about you. Because I love you.”

You smiled at her, despite having the worst feeling in the pit of your stomach you still believe her whenever she said it to you. “I love you too, Ale. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

She was still looking at you with worry etched on her face. “Anything else on your pretty mind?”

You felt that if you voiced your thoughts out loud, you’d sound like a crazy, jealous girlfriend and you didn’t want that. So you simply said nothing and laid your head on her chest.

This was fine. You were in Alexia’s arms. Jenni was far away in Mexico. (Well, Portugal right now, but she’d eventually return to Mexico).

You promised yourself you wouldn't let your insane, full of jealousy thoughts ruin what you had with Alexia.

—

People found out about you and Alexia a month later. And by people, that meant the whole damn earth.

Since you never mentioned Alexia to your friends—just casually mentioning that you were seeing someone, but not necessarily specifying who exactly you were dating—the moment your pictures with alexia blew up on the internet, so did your phone.

They were candid pictures of you and Alexia at the beach. Private candid pictures.

You unlocked your phone and scrolled through the countless texts from your friends.

how did you manage to bag THE alexia putellas???

idiota text me back wtf!!!

did you blackmail her oh my god you genius

Which were definitely rude. And didn’t help at all the voices at the back of your head screaming that you weren't good enough for Alexia.

It was a hellish morning.

The only thing saving it was the sound of keys at the front door, and a moment later your girlfriend was stepping inside your apartment, humming happily as she placed a bag of groceries on the kitchen counter. She most likely hadn’t seen the pictures yet.

“Ale,” you called out, giving her a weak smile as she turned her head towards you.

“Hola, mi amor,” Alexia instantly furrowing her brows at the sight of you sitting on the couch. “Whats wrong?”

You hated how she could read you so well. “What makes you think something’s wrong?”

She flopped down on the couch next to you, wrapping her arm around your shoulders and bringing you into her side. You left out the biggest sigh and just handed her your phone, where the pictures of the two of you were still open.

You felt Alexia stiffen up and you closed your eyes, willing that this wasn't the end for you two. You knew just how much Alexia valued her privacy.

It was silent for a minute or so, alexia tapping away on your phone.

“Lo siento,” Alexia pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I already restricted the comments on your Instagram, you shouldn’t be dealing with all that. People can be a bit… much sometimes.”

Oh. You hadn't even thought to check your Instagram page. You were glad though, you couldn't imagine what vile things people were saying about you. It must be bad enough that that was where Alexia immediately thought to go.

“Is it that bad?” you voiced out, pulling back so you could see Alexia’s face. She looked surprisingly calm. “Babe, how are you so calm about this?”

“The comments on your posts are a lot, but I didn’t read them,” Alexia said simply. “It can be overwhelming, that's why I wanted to shield you from all of that. When you're ready you can just turn it back on.”

You smiled at how thoughtful she was. You really loved her. “You don't have to shield me from anything, Ale. I can handle a few nasty comments. You also haven’t answered my question.”

Alexia looked questioningly at you, grabbing at your arms to pull you closer again.

You settled nicely in her arms, your back pressing against her front as she laid down on the couch. “What question?”

“How you’re so calm about all of this.”

“Ah,” you can feel Alexia's chuckle and you turn around. You were now facing her again (your favorite thing to do—who would ever be tired of staring at Alexia’s face). You placed both of your hands on her face and ran your fingers through her jaw. “I’m anything but calm, bebita. You should feel my heart.”

“I can feel it.”

“Then you know I’m not calm.”

“You are the epitome of calm right now, baby,” you laughed, the nerves still shimmering across your entire body, whereas Alexia looked like it was just a regular Saturday for her.

Alexia took a deep breath and placed her hand on top of yours. “I’m scared. That is the truth. I’m really, really scared. But I know we will get through this. Together. As long as I have you and you have me, I think everything will be alright.”

You smiled at her, truly feeling how she meant her words. You pecked her lips and went back to snuggle into her, your head resting perfectly in the crook of her neck.

“I love you, Ale. You have me. Always.”

—

The next few weeks passed by in a blur. You finally got introduced to Alexia’s friends—Alexia brought you to Lucy and Ona’s housewarming party for their new place. Everyone loved you and you felt like you fit right in. It was great. You felt happy.

(You didn't let the thoughts of why it took a media outlet leaking your pictures for Alexia to bring you around to meet the people in her life, but you cast it aside.)

You met up with your friends and finally told them about Alexia. They were all wary, thinking it was too good to be true. A couple of snide remarks were thrown around about how Alexia could do better, even though your friends said it in a joking way, it still hurt.

But you managed by.

The next thing you knew you were being introduced to Eli and Alba.

It went fine, the most important people in your girlfriend's life seemed to like you, asking you questions about all sorts of things.

It wasn't until Alba casually mentioned how she was going to Mexico with some of her friends and how she would be staying with Jenni the whole week that you realized how closely intertwined Jenni was with Alexia’s life.

Your girlfriend's little sister lighting up as she mentioned all the places Jenni was planning on taking her to. You realized that Alba grew up with Jenni and she most likely saw Jenni as her big sister too; how devastated was she when Alexia and Jenni broke up and Jenni would never officially be a part of their family?

Going home that night, your mind was filled with how Alba and Eli were most likely comparing you to Jenni. Once again you were met with the question that seemed to always bother you: how were you supposed to compete with Jenni Hermoso?

—

The next thing you knew it was time for the World Cup. A very big deal for your girlfriend.

Especially since this was her first big tournament after suffering her injury.

You flew to support her, occasionally meeting with Alba and Eli for lunch (you knew you wouldn’t live up to Jenni, but you could try to make them like you better).

They hadn't given an indication that they disliked you, but just to be safe, you were willing to go the extra mile to make your girlfriend's family like you. You didn't have a decade-long history with them, but you could meet up with them to eat sushi even though you hated eating raw fish.

A small price to pay. Alba was really craving salmon sashimi.

At night, Alexia called you, telling you about her day. Mostly, you let her stay in the zone, you knew how important this was for her; you never called her first, letting her take the lead. You didn't want to be a distraction.

You two have talked about this before. You, scared that you'd be a distraction and Alexia looking at you as if that was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. Alexia reassured you that you'd never be a distraction and nothing had to change.

You were nervous. You didn't know what being a wag entailed during a big tournament.

It went fine though and your best friends did told you that you were worrying for nothing.

(You still couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that Alexia was spending basically every waking moment with Jenni. But it was fine. Jenni was her teammate. They support each other in different ways.)

Alexia called you every night, some nights Alexia fell asleep with the call still connected and you were left to longingly stare at her, longing to be there next to your girlfriend.

Despite her reassurance that she wanted you to bother her, you didn’t want to seem like a needy girlfriend.

So you toned down your texts, looking at updates of your girlfriend through Instagram (it was a bit pathetic). When you tapped on the next Instagram story and it was a video of Alexia giggling with Jenni, you almost lost it. Almost.

They were friends. Best friends. Exes, yes, but their relationship went beyond that. You knew this. You’ve spent hours down the rabbit hole of reading their history on some blog.

And once again you were left to wonder why Alexia chose you when she can be with her soulmate.

It was an endless cycle and you knew you couldn't go on like this. You had to talk to your girlfriend about your insecurities and just hope that she wasn’t going to think you were silly.

For now though, you were ready to cheer her on as she took the biggest stage in her career.

All the best teams in the world were great, but Spain was better. Alexia was a superstar, like always.

So of course Spain won the World Cup, you had no doubt about it.

What you didn't expect was Alexia exchanging jerseys with Jenni out of all people. You bit your tongue, the cheers all around you didn't do much to drown the thumping of your heartbeat in your ears.

You loved your girlfriend, you were so proud of her.

But as your sweet girlfriend celebrated on the pitch with her ex’s name on her chest, you never knew pain like this.

They were World Champions together. How could you even compete with that? It wasn't your name that Alexia was proudly showing off to the world.

You and Alexia’s family were then escorted backstage. You waited, and waited, swallowing the bitter feeling in your chest. You were happy for Alexia, you really were. But was it necessary to trade jerseys with Jenni?

Before you knew it, Alexia came barrelling towards you. J. HERMOSO visible across her chest.

You hugged her, whispered how proud of her you were, and when Alexia was whisked off for media duties, you prayed that she wouldn’t come to the same conclusion as you.

Alexia and Jenni had years of memories, years of going through the ups and downs of football together. Them winning the World Cup together just added another notable piece to their already intricate history.

Jenni Hermoso was a million times better than you, her winning the World Cup just sealed it even more.

—

You let Alexia celebrate with her teammates, desperately trying to ignore the sinking feeling in your chest as you waited for her in your hotel room.

She insisted you come along, but you declined, not wanting to rain on her parade.

When Alexia stumbled into your hotel room later into the night, you traded sweet nothings into each other’s ears as you let Alexia do whatever she wanted to you.

You felt loved, but you still couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in your chest that Alexia could love Jenni better.

—

Being back in Barcelona felt nice.

You were a million miles away from Jenni but still the feeling of insecurity lingered. You knew you had to talk to Alexia soon before it ate you alive.

You just didn't think that it’d blow up to an argument.

You went out with your friends for lunch, promising Alexia that you’d be back in time for your weekly movie nights.

When you entered your shared home you were met with Alexia lying horizontally on your couch.

She was laughing at the TV, too engrossed in whatever she was watching that she hadn’t noticed you coming in.

You went straight to the kitchen, rummaging around your fridge to look for something to do. You weren’t hungry after the lunch you had, but you just wanted to do something. Your hands were full of nerves, mostly due to the annoyance radiating off you.

You were annoyed at your friends and how they kept on making comments about you and Alexia. They didn’t mean any harm, but it got too much.

Before your thoughts wandered further, you felt a pair of arms snake around your waist.

“I didn’t hear you get in.”

You hummed, looking at the ingredients in front of you. Guess you were making some banana bread.

You could feel Alexia’s gaze on you as you basically ignored her. Alexia always knew when something was up with you.

“Is everything okay? Why are you baking?”

You shrugged, getting the necessary equipment from the cupboard.

“Y/N?”

“I just feel like baking,” you didn’t mean to sound curt. Alexia immediately loosened her grip on you, leaning against the counter as she searched for your eyes.

“Okay… Well, do you want me to help?”

“Not really.” You knew you weren’t being fair—Alexia didn’t do anything wrong—but you had your reasons.

Your reasons were the comments your friends made that reinforced the thoughts you had been carrying around for months. You were insecure, disgruntled, and dejected all at once.

You paused for a second before blurting out, “Why didn't you want anyone to know about us?”

Alexia froze. The conversation thrown around during lunch earlier kept echoing in your head.

“Was keeping it a secret Alexia’s idea?”

“Why though? Is she ashamed of you or something?”

“Is it true that she used to date Jenni Hermoso?”

“If I used to date Jenni Hermoso then I would never—well, I wouldn’t say downgrade, but…”

“Hey, that’s just mean! Alexia didn’t downgrade with Y/N!”

“You’re seriously picking Y/N over Jenni Hermoso? Y/N, you know I love you, but let’s be serious for a second.”

“Ale, are you embarrassed of me?”

“What?” Alexia was taken aback at your question, a bewildered look settling on her face. “I am not embarrassed of you. Where is this coming from?”

You scoffed. “Then why didn’t you want people to know about us? About me?”

Alexia was speechless for a second, not expecting that this was where the conversation was going. “Because my world can be harsh and I just want to protect you from it. I told you this, amor. We’ve had this conversation before.”

While that used to sound sweet, now it just irritated you.

“Yeah, but I can handle it.”

Alexia gave you a look that said she didn't believe you. You felt offended. Sure, you were an overly emotional person, but you were sure you could handle it. You were handling it. There were people who spewed out nasty comments about you on the internet everyday but you brushed them off—none of their opinions matter to you.

Your girlfriend’s opinions matter to you.

“Glad to know you think so highly of me,” you sarcastically said, angrily slamming the bananas on the counter. This conversation was really getting on your nerves. You almost wished you didn't bring it up in the first place.

Alexia let out a sigh. “It’s not that I don’t have any faith in you. I just want to protect you. The last time I was in a relationship, it was with someone in the football field,” you hoped she didn’t notice how you immediately stiffen. “I didn’t have to worry so much because she knew how it was—”

You suddenly were so irritated at the reminder of Jenni that you snapped. “I know I’m not Jenni!”

Alexia was surprised at your sudden outburst.

“Qué? I know you are not her—”

“But you wish I was.”

Alexia looked so taken aback at your accusation that you immediately felt guilty for ever saying it.

“…What?”

But it seems that despite the guilt you felt, the pent up anger inside you was overflowing, desperate to let itself out.

“Jenni is perfect, Jenni plays football, Jenni can handle the media, Jenni knows all your friends and family. Everyone likes Jenni better than me!”

“Amor, no! That’s— Where is this coming from?”

You almost wished you didn’t mention any of this in the first place with the way Alexia was looking at you like a blindsided, kicked puppy.

You wanted to try to explain your side of things to her. You felt like your feelings about this whole thing were valid, albeit you could definitely handle it differently. Like, not bottling things up until they eventually blew up.

“You’re still good friends with your ex, Ale,” was all you could come up with.

“…Yes? We went through a lot together; she was a big part of my life.” At that you rolled your eyes. Obviously she was a big part of Alexia’s life. Weren’t all exes a big part of our lives at some point?

When you didn't say anything else and continued to prepare for your banana bread, Alexia continued, “It wasn't a bad breakup... We just decided that we were better off as friends.”

Honestly, you’ve had enough of hearing about Jenni.

“That’s exactly it, isn't it? You two went through a lot together, Ale. You won the freaking World Cup together and you went around parading her name on your chest while I was at the stands cheering you on despite having to see you with your ex’s name on all the fucking pictures of you and the trophy. And yeah she lives all the way in Mexico but you have international camps together while I'm at home, watching Instagram stories of you two, wondering why you're still giving me the time of the day when you could be with someone like her? For god’s sake Ale, she's hot! I get it! I do! And she’s 5’9 and I’m not—”

“Amor, stop,” Alexia interrupted your rambling, stepping closer to you but you didn't let her, shaking your head and taking a step away. “Y/N, I had no idea you felt that way—”

“It’s stupid. Forget it.” Embarrassment filled your cheeks.

“No, no, it’s not. It’s not stupid if you feel that way, my love. I’m so, so sorry that I didn't realize how this was making you feel.”

You sighed. It wasn’t Alexia’s fault, you knew that. You should've told her. It wasn't her fault because she didn't know.

You were now even more embarrassed that you let it turn into such a big deal.

So you took one last look at your girlfriend and ran out the door.

—

An hour into your aimless walk, you realized that you didn’t bring your phone with you, which meant you couldn’t Uber your way back home.

You realized that this meant you couldn’t call anyone to pick you up.

To make it worse, the sky started to rumble, signaling that the possibility of a heavy rain was coming sooner than you think.

Everything felt like a disaster.

You slumped down on a nearby bench. You knew where you were, you had no trouble getting home without Google maps. But it was an hour walk here, which meant it would be another hour walk home.

You groaned, thinking of the best way out of this predicament you put yourself in.

It was nearing midnight, but Barcelona had always been a lively place, so there were still plenty of passersby. You could ask to borrow someone’s phone, call Alexia, and wait until she picked you up.

But that would mean a random stranger would have Alexia’s number on their phone. You didn’t know if people would recognize you and put two and two together on who you were calling. You didn’t want to take that risk.

You could call one of your friends, but you didn’t remember any of their numbers.

The only number you knew by heart was Alexia’s.

Placing your hands over your face, you took a deep breath and pushed back the stinging feeling behind your eyes. You couldn’t cry. You really wanted to because of how pathetic you were, but you couldn’t. You’d just feel even worse.

With every minute that passed by, you started to feel even more guilty at the thought of how worried Alexia must be.

Standing up, you decided you could just borrow someone’s Uber app, or even hail a taxi from somewhere. You decided that you had to go home right now. Alexia must be driving herself crazy when she realized you weren’t one call away.

Just when you were about to step into the direction of two friendly-looking strangers, the first droplet fell on top of your head.

“Fuck.”

Soon enough, the rain went down heavily. Everyone started running in all directions, trying to shield themselves from the pouring rain and you were left standing there, feeling sorry for yourself because great now you were stranded and drenched.

You sat back down and let the rain wash over you, finally letting out the sobs you were withholding.

You had a lot of thoughts in your head, but mostly, you just wanted Alexia. You wanted her right now. If you weren’t such a jealous girlfriend, you wouldn’t be in this situation. You wouldn’t be questioning her decade-long friendship with one of her best friends.

You wouldn’t—

“Amor!”

You whipped your head up and despite the water blocking your eyesight, you could always tell that it was your girlfriend’s figure running towards you.

You were a sobbing mess, sitting all alone in the rain in the middle of Barcelona, but still Alexia managed to find you. Alexia was drenched all over too, no umbrella in sight, as she kneeled down on the pavement and brought your crying face into her neck.

Alexia pulled back and you could tell that she had been crying too. Great. You felt a million times worse now.

“What the hell are you doing?! You didn’t have your phone with you, I didn’t know where you were!”

“I’m sorry,” you cried out, your voice barely audible due to the heavy patter of the rain. “I walked for a long time and I ended up here and it was an hour away and I didn’t have my phone, I couldn’t get back home without walking another hour and my feet are killing me and I feel so bad because you must be so worried and it’s all my fault! And now you’re here, I don’t know how you managed to find me but I’m so glad you’re here and oh my god—we’re both probably gonna be sick. I’m sorry! I love you, Ale, I’m so sorry!”

“Hey, hey,” Alexia cooed, placing her forehead against yours. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re okay. I love you too, please stop crying, mi amorcita. It’s okay.”

You took a deep breath, which didn’t end up helping because having water fall over your head made breathing a bit harder.

Alexia placed a kiss on your forehead, standing up and pulling you against her.

You felt yourself sag against her, Alexia holding you upright. “Can we go home? I’m really cold.”

“Of course, mi vida. Let’s go home.”

—

Once you got into Alexia’s car, you started to cry again.

Mostly because it was warm and you were so relieved, but also because you felt bad that you were flooding her car with your wet clothes.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?”

Alexia placed her hands on your cheeks, wiping away your tears.

“I’m ruining your leather seats. Your car is ruined.”

Alexia let out a laugh. You looked at her like she was crazy. “Stop laughing at me,” you cried out. “Ale.”

“Oh, bebé,” Alexia tugged you across the console, wanting to pull you close once more. “I’m not laughing at you, I promise.”

“Then?”

“You’re too cute, you know? This will all dry up, amor. Besides, you’re not the only one whose clothes are wet. Look at me.”

You knew Alexia was trying to cheer you up, but at the reminder that the reason Alexia was soaked in the first place was because of you, you felt your bottom lip start to wobble.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “Now we’re both gonna freeze to death.”

Alexia simply placed a kiss on your cheek, putting the car in gear. “I won’t let you freeze to death.”

Looking out the window and seeing the familiar route home, you felt at peace even though you were still trembling from your wet clothing.

You didn’t know what state you would be in had Alexia not found you.

“Ale.”

She looked at you for a split second before redirecting her gaze on the road. “Hm?”

“How did you even find me?”

You saw the smirk before she could answer. “It’s called telepathy, amor.”

“Ale. I’m serious.”

“I’m serious too,” Alexia shrugged, a coy smile on her lips. “It’s our connection, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes at her antics. “Whatever. Idiota.”

Alexia laughed, her hand blindly searching for yours. You let her take your hand, the touch causing warmth to settle deep in your chest.

You didn’t let go of her hand all the way home.

—

After taking a warm shower, you laid on your side of the bed, waiting for Alexia to finish with hers.

(Alexia decided to shower in the guest bathroom, not wanting to invade your privacy in case you were still mad at her.)

(You quickly rebutted her statement and said that you weren’t ‘mad’ at her, just ‘annoyed’.)

Just when you were about to call out her name because Alexia was taking too long when she could shower in under five minutes, your girlfriend appeared, leaning against the doorway of your shared bedroom, a sheepish smile on her face.

“Can I still sleep with you or should I stay in the guest bedroom?”

You gestured for her to join you on the bed, relief falling on Alexia’s face as she approached you.

Once you were both under the covers, Alexia immediately resumed her position as the big spoon. You placed your hand over hers that was draped across your stomach, feeling a wave of contentment wash over you.

“Can we talk about it?” Alexia whispered.

You didn’t want to. You were embarrassed. But you knew you had to. So you took a deep breath and let out everything you had been feeling for months—how you knew Alexia loved you, but oftentimes your thoughts took over and convinced you that Alexia couldn’t love you fully, not really. Especially knowing that she could have someone as perfect as Jenni.

“Y/N, I don’t want Jenni. I’m not in love with her anymore. You have to believe me.”

“But she’s… she’s perfect for you.”

“You’re perfect for me. It’s you I’m in love with. It’s you I love, Y/N.”

You turned around at the way Alexia’s voice was shaking, which was usually the tell-tale signs that she was about to cry.

And sure enough, Alexia had tears welling up in her eyes and that broke you. Your girlfriend was never one to cry often so the sight made you crumble and realize just how much she was telling the truth.

You reached out and wiped away her tears that managed to escape, placing a soft kiss on her nose. “Please don’t cry, Ale. I’m sorry—“

“Don’t apologize,” Alexia interjected. “You have nothing to apologize for, baby. I’m just sad because you can’t see how amazing you are. It pains me that you don’t see yourself the way I see you.”

“I guess I just can't wrap my head around the fact that you can have someone like Jenni, yet you’re choosing to be with someone like me.”

“Hey, don't be mean to my girlfriend,” Alexia turned serious, staring right into your eyes as she speak. “She’s perfect to me. She’s the only one I’ll ever want. Ever.”

You stayed quiet, taking in her words. You still didn't know what Alexia saw in you, but with the fierce stare full of determination she was wearing, you were starting to believe her. Believe that there were amazing qualities about you that made Alexia fall head over heels in love with you.

“You promise that you’ll love me even though I’m nowhere near as good as Jenni at football and I’m not as famous as her—Ale, I don’t have a World Cup trophy…”

“Y/N, my love, of course I do. I promise. I love you. I do, with all my heart.”

You took a deep breath and nodded. “I’m still going to have my insecurities. They’re not going away just like that.”

“I understand, amor,” Alexia placed her hands on your cheeks, caressing them gently, you could feel her love for you seeping from her fingers. “I’ll tell you everyday that you're all I’ll ever need until you believe me.”

You didn't have to be a footballer and you didn't have to go and win a World Cup, Alexia would still love you for who you were.

—

The opening game of the season fell on your birthday. You were seated at your usual seat with Alba and Eli. Eli had organized a small party after the game, she had baked you a birthday cake and wanted you to blow out the candles before your birthday dinner with Alexia.

When your girlfriend went out to the pitch, your jaw dropped. Instead of wearing her usual 11, she was wearing your birthdate on her back.

She easily spotted you in the stands, pointing at her back then pointing at you. This is for you, you could hear her message loud and clear.

You could cry right there and then. (You did cry).

Later Alexia uploaded her usual post-match Instagram post. The pictures of her wearing the jersey with your number made it extra special, especially the video she included of herself running over to you, lifting you up in her arms, and spinning you around—the happiness radiating from the two of you clearly visible.

The cherry on top was the caption underneath:

special numbers today in honour of my girl’s birthday. te amo mucho, amor @y/n 🥰❤️

All those fears of being not good enough, all those fears of Jenni replacing you, you now thought it was all so silly.

Because you knew without a doubt how much Alexia loved you.

“What are you daydreaming about?”

“Nothing,” you shrugged, a cheeky smile on your face. “Just thinking about how dumb you look with that birthday hat on.”

“Hey! This is all for you, amor!”

You laughed at her pout, the pointy birthday hat still sitting on top of her head.

You were at one of the fanciest restaurants in Barcelona. Everyone was wearing a fancy dress—you were wearing one too, Alexia on the other hand was wearing a dapper three-piece suit.

You had a birthday hat in your clutch from Alba earlier and once you both had ordered, you took it out and gave it to your girlfriend. You jokingly asked her to wear it, not expecting her to do so.

But when she took it with a roll of her eyes, “anything to make you smile” falling off her lips and she ended up wearing the thing throughout your dinner, you had no more doubt that it was you Alexia wanted.

You didn't have any football silks, you weren’t a World Champion, you weren’t Jenni Hermoso.

But with every waking moment you spent with Alexia, you could feel how much she loved you despite it all.

Especially when Alexia got down on one knee and especially when you had a mini-you running around. You knew that there was nothing in this world that could change what you had with her.

(Not even Jenni Hermoso, who is now someone you call a best friend and the godmother to your daughter).

—

thanks for reading, let me know your thoughts!!🫶🏼

#woso x reader #woso #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas #woso fanfics #woso community #fcb femení

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ddlydevotion · 19 days ago

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dating hamzah al-emad includes...

currently listening to: lust for life by lana del rey ft the weeknd ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Hamzah quite honestly doesn’t have too much experience when it comes to romantic relationships. He’s constantly worried that he’ll do or say something wrong, so please reassure him when the situation calls for it.

he lovelovelovess having you around him as much as possible. You honestly could never “bother” him, even if he’s editing/coming up with video ideas. One day you asked Hamzah if he’d like some alone time to get some editing done and he immediately said:

“no-what are you talking about? Here, come sit down.”

You’re one of the very few people that don’t easily overstimulate him lmao

This man has insane attachment issues when it comes to you and has no issue letting you know when he misses/wants to see you. You could be out of the apartment running errands and your phone will be filled with messages from him.

‘me and the cats miss u very much btw if u even care…’

‘when are you coming homeee ;(‘

Please don’t be shocked when he comes up to you asking for very specific things that he may need for a video involving Martin. For example, where do you think he got the skirt for his White Chicks costume? Exactly.

Even if someone is meeting him for the very first time, they’ll immediately be able to tell he has a girlfriend because he’s constantly wearing something symbolic of you. That bracelet you randomly made him one night? It’s practically glued to his wrist. Your claw clip practically has a home on his belt loop. So, these little things make it pretty easy for people to decipher the fact that he’s taken.

Recording with Martin takes up quite a bit of his time so he’s constantly putting in the effort to see you, hear your voice, and speak with you in general. You’re constantly receiving photos/videos/voice memos from Hamzah when he’s in the middle of filming.

He always makes sure to bring you something back when Martin and him visit a restaurant, or a location that’s stocked up on items he knows you enjoy.

Hamzah has been through a whole lot and has experienced his fair share of loneliness. He isn’t too good with his words/voicing just how much you and your presence mean to him but he tries soso hard. There’ll be a lot of sighs and stutters filling the pauses in his sentences but that doesn’t stop his adoration from shining through.

“I just- I love you so much, y/n. I hope I say it enough, y’know? I’m really serious about you and I know I might not be the most experienced guy when it comes to this, but I hope that doesn’t make you doubt how serious I am about you. Because I am- serious about you, I mean.”

These sorts of conversations tend to happen late at night when the warmth between your two bodies blossoms endlessly. He holds you tight as your cheek is pressed against his chest. He can’t help but hold you the same way he’d hold a knife.

In his eyes, the two of you are in this for the long run and he doesn’t hide his intentions of marrying you. He even slipped up and called you his wife in a video once.

‘Yesterday, me and my wife- well…make that my future wife.’ and then a cheesy lil smirk spreads across his face 😭

He even made the both of you in Sims and made it so that the two of you got married. Mandy and Martin couldn’t help but tease him about it.

He loves you with his entire fucking being and he wants nothing but to be good for you, good to you, be the one to make you smile, laugh, feel at ease. He adores being able to do domestic activities with you since it gives him a glimpse into how it’ll be like once the two of you eventually get married. As I said, he puts in soooo much effort into making you happy so he definitely attempts to get good at cooking so he can surprise you with breakfast in bed/homemade dinner. He stills puts in the effort to learn how to cook even if you already know how to. He wants to surprise you so bad so pls let him (╥‸╥) (even if the French toast he made is a lil burnt)

Follows you around like a lost puppy. His hand is constantly reaching for yours, his arms are instantly wrapped around you as soon as the two of you get into bed, he always makes room for you to sit in his lap.

a/n: I haven’t written in quite awhile but I had to come back since my obsession with this man has worsened this past week 😞. Feel free to send requests 💌🧸

#hamzah x reader #hamzahthefanatasticxreader #slushy noobz x reader #hamzahthefantastic x reader #hamzah x female reader #hamzah x y/n #x female y/n #x female reader #x fem!reader #youtuber x reader

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badkitty3000 · 9 months ago

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Five Hargreeves NSFW Headcanons

Ok, so here are some smutty headcanons that I have developed for Five over time. Obviously, this is my personal version and if you’ve read any of my stories, you will recognize a lot of these! Also, these are intended to be with a female partner, even though I feel like Five could be with any gender or orientation. If he’s attracted to a person and has a connection with them, that’s all that matters. I just write him with cis women because that’s what I am and that’s what I know. Let me know if you think I missed any! 😊

Warnings: Smut! Sex! Turn back if you don't want smut!

Let’s start with relationships: Five does not have the patience, nor the inclination, to care about most people outside of his immediate family. He knows he’s smarter (a lot smarter) than the average human, and spending more time than he needs to with someone else and their tiny brain is highly irritating. He does not have a lot of friends and doesn’t feel the need for any. That does not mean he isn’t attracted to women and doesn’t notice them. He most definitely notices. And once in a while he may indulge in a drunken fling here and there. However, when he meets that one woman that lights a fire in him, then it's game over. He’s done for, head over heels, no one will ever come close, in love for all eternity. He’s not going to fall for just anyone, either. Aside from having a body that he wants to fuck all day for the rest of his life, you also have to be smart. And witty. And not put up with any of his shit. Just because he’s in love with you, does not mean he’s not going to slip up sometimes and say or do something to piss you off. But when you come back at him with some major attitude and fight, he will end up loving you even more. Five needs a spicy woman to put him in his place sometimes.

Blow Jobs: Holy shit, this man loves a good blow job! Nothing makes him hotter than watching you service him. He wants to shove you down on your knees and watch intently as you take him all the way into your mouth until his cock hits the back of your throat. And if you can handle it, he’s going to fuck your face. Grab your hair in his fist and thrust himself into you until you’re gagging and drooling, tears running down your cheeks. Maybe he’ll come down your throat, maybe he won’t. He’ll let you know first, though. But if you’re going to be in a relationship with him, you better get used to having his dick in your mouth.

Cunnilingus: He may want you to suck his cock, but he’s more than willing to pay back the favor. In fact, Five wants to eat you out like the starving man he once was. Your taste and your scent drives him wild and he’ll take as long as you need. In fact, sometimes, he won’t stop even if you want him to. You can be begging him to stop and to fuck you instead, but he’ll just hold you down by your hips and look up at you with that knowing smirk of his; his mouth shining with your juices, and shake his head. Denied. Then he’s back at it, sucking and licking and fucking your pussy with his tongue until you’re a shuddering, crying mess, and your back is arching off the bed.

Orgasms: Continuing on that theme, Five will not come until you have, at least once but preferably a couple of times. He considers this a personal challenge, and he’s going to do everything in his power to make sure you’re screaming and shaking before he’s satisfied enough to let himself go. Ok, sure, there are times when maybe he does not perform as amazingly as he’d like. Times when you drive him so fucking crazy with the way you’re writhing underneath him and looking at him with that sexy little pout of yours that he can’t hold back. He’ll feel guilty about it afterwards, though, so once he’s able to think straight again, he’ll make sure you’re taken care of.

Daddy kink: This is it, guys. The big one. The thing that he absolutely goes fucking crazy over. You want Five to lose his mind over you? Sit on his lap and call him Daddy. Purr it seductively next to his ear while you run a hand down his chest. Remind him of it when you’re on your knees, looking back up at him with wide, innocent eyes, as you slowly unbuckle his belt. Moan it loudly just before he makes you come. Odds are, he’s going to be the older one in the relationship, so it just plays into his preferred role of the man in charge. He is the Daddy, here, and don’t you fucking forget it.

Cum: He wants you either covered in it or filled with it. Five loves nothing more than to come inside of you, watching his load drip out of you, dripping down your legs or pooling on the sheets underneath you. But sometimes he can’t control himself, taking matters into his own hands, and covering your tits or your ass in ropes of his cum. Seeing his semen all over you lights up that feral part of his brain because it reminds him and you who you belong to. He usually does this when he’s not thinking clearly, and then will feel badly afterwards, especially if he didn’t tell you he was going to do it in the first place. You’ll have to tell him it’s ok and that you don’t mind; that you liked it, actually. After he feels better about himself, he’ll quickly blink into the bathroom and grab a washcloth or tissues to help clean you up.

Dominance: Obviously, Five likes to be the one calling the shots. He is going to tell you, or more likely order you, to do what he wants. Whether he wants you riding him hard and fast, or on your hands and knees so he can fuck you from behind, he’ll let you know. Or maybe he’ll just throw you around, no words needed, until he’s got you where he wants you. He wants to overpower you, hold you down, pin you against a wall, flatten you with his body on top of yours. He wants to grip your wrists tightly in his hands and shove your legs apart with his knees. You are his to do with what he wants, but that’s only because he knows that’s what you like. It might not even be anything rough or physical that shows he’s in charge. It could be a subtle look in your direction, or a small command of “Come here” or “No” to your request that has you weak in the knees and doing whatever he wants. You might have him wrapped around your finger in every other aspect of your relationship, but inside the bedroom he is the boss.

Submission: There is one tiny little caveat to that dominance thing. Once in a while, you get to be in charge. Yes, he likes to be the dominant one, but he’s also up for being the sub every now and then. Maybe it’s a spur of the moment thing that you hesitantly try, and for some reason, he’s into it that day. Maybe he’s really pissing you off and he needs to be reminded that you are not a doormat for his temper tantrums and misplaced rage. This is when things can really get fun. Now you get to order him around, and he’s going to listen. Make him to eat you out until you tell him to stop. Tie him up with his own necktie and make him really work for it. Tease him until his cock is so hard and leaking that he’s squirming and begging you to fuck him. Rub your wet pussy up and down his shaft, but don’t let him in, until he’s whining like a little bitch and you laugh before finally giving in. Call him a good boy and slap his ass. He will do it all for you, because he loves you. And maybe because he secretly likes it, too. And when it’s all over, he will pretend that it was a one-time deal and you are dreaming if you think that’s ever going to happen again. You know better, though.

Dirty talk: Oh boy, he’s a talker. Not only does Five like the sound of his own voice, he wants to hear yours, too. He is going to lay out his entire dirty plan for you, in detail, out loud while he gets started. Then, he’s going to share with you each of the thoughts running through his head during the act, as well. It all depends on his mood and whether he’s being rough or soft, demanding or sweet. “Fuck me harder” “You’re so tight, you feel amazing” “God damn it, I never want to stop fucking you” “You’re so beautiful” “I love you” “You’re all I need” He’s not shy about what he wants to hear from you, either. “Tell me who you belong to” “Whose cock do you want inside of you?” “Tell me how I make you feel” He wants to hear all of it. There may be a few times where he orders you to stay quiet while he teases and fucks you hard, but that won’t stop him from chattering away himself. Unless he’s got some severe laryngitis going on, you are going to hear A LOT from Five Hargreeves during sex.

Rough Sex: Yes! He wants to fuck you into the mattress, or wall, or floor, or whatever surface he can find. But not in a violent or cruel way; he knows how you like it and he’s going to deliver. He’s going to make getting your pussy pounded into oblivion feel amazing. Shoving his cock inside of you, your leg thrown over his shoulder, sweat forming on his body, hair flopping in his eyes, jaw set in concentration as he rams into you over and over until you are screaming. He loves you, he’ll remind you, as he flips you over onto all fours and continues to fuck you so perfectly that you won’t be able to think or walk straight for a week. We’re talking hair-pulling, ass-slapping, sucking and biting until you’re bruised kind of rough.

Sweet/slow Sex: Also yes! Five likes it rough sometimes, but he also likes to take his time with you. He loves you, you are his entire world, and he just can’t believe you love him, too. So, he will cover your body with soft kisses, caressing every part of you while he tells you how gorgeous you are. He will worship your body, because to him you are the most perfect woman in the world. He will never love anyone else but you, and as he fucks you slow and rhythmically, with your legs and arms wrapped tightly around him, he will gaze lovingly into your eyes and tell you so.

Insecurities: We all know Five is the most confident man in the room. He’s arrogant and bossy, and isn’t afraid of anything or anyone. But, he has a lot of trauma, and with that comes shame, and regret, and feelings of inadequacy. Most people don’t know this about him. Most people except for you. With you, he let’s his guard down. He is safe with you and he can finally be himself. When the nightmares come, or the panic attacks, or just the overwhelming thoughts of self-doubt that plague him, he turns to you for comfort. Sometimes that means just lying there with you in the dark, as he lays his head on your chest and you give him soft kisses and run your fingers through his hair. Other times, he may need more than that. Because he needs to feel you, all of you, to make sure you are real. His touches and kisses will lead to more, and it all has to do with love and not lust, and his vulnerability with you. You are his lifeline to the only real happiness he knows and he’s terrified of it being ripped away from him again. He will bury his face in the crook of your neck while he thrusts slowly into you, kissing you softly and trying desperately not to shed the tears that are already making their way down his face. He wants to hear you say you’ll never leave him because he doesn’t want to be alone. And when you reassure him over and over with more kisses and whispers of how much you love him, he will eventually relax once more.

Names: Five loves to give you pet names. Sometimes they give a sense of his dominance over you, or may even be sarcastic if he’s being a jerk (sweetheart and honey can sound completely different depending on his tone). Other times they are just a form of his love for you and even if they are old fashioned (darling, my love, etc), you love hearing them from him. He likes to have a special name for you that no one else calls you, too. And he generally saves a couple just for sexy times (“go on baby, come for me”) that he knows drives you crazy. You can have pet names for him, too, and you love knowing you are the only one that can get away with that.

His own name: Along the same lines, Five wants to hear you say his name. When you’re whispering it quietly as he’s trailing kisses down your neck. As you’re whining and begging pitifully when he teases you and holds out on you instead of just fucking you like you want. And especially when you are screaming his name so loud the neighbors down the street can hear. It totally plays into his ego to have you moaning his name while he’s making you lose your mind with his cock or his fingers. Once you start sobbing and crying out his name in pure ecstasy, he’s probably not going to be able to last much longer because that is music to his ears. But if you really want to kick it up a notch and pretty much guarantee he’s going to be violently coming inside of you in a matter of seconds, use his full name. Throwing in a ‘Number Five’ is like an automatic switch for him and its game over.

Loud sex: Continuing on…he wants you loud. This goes along with the dirty talk and moaning his name. He wants to hear you. He wants the neighbors to hear you. He wants the whole god damn city to hear you. And he wants everyone to know just who is fucking you. Maybe it will make run-ins with neighbors at the mailbox a little awkward in the morning, but Five doesn’t really give a shit. He wants his girl screaming so loud for him that it’s a wonder the cops don’t get called. And he’ll wear that badge of honor proudly, just adding to the other list of things he knows he’s the fucking king of.

Kissing: Five loves kissing you. He can’t get enough of it. Yes, he loves fucking and everything else sex-related, but kissing is always incorporated, even with the roughest of sex. Remember, this man is touch starved, but he also doesn’t like most people touching him. You are the exception. The fact that he has found someone to love and that loves him in return is nothing short of a miracle for him. So, kissing you and being kissed by you, is heaven. You can feel all of his love and desire for you in those kisses, whether they are soft and gentle, or hungry and desperate. He kisses you in the morning and when you leave for the day. He kisses you when you come home and before you go to sleep. Sometimes when you’re just standing there, washing dishes, or sitting reading a book, you will look so cute to him that he can’t help himself and he’ll tilt your face up towards him with a hand on your chin and kiss you until you want to melt into a puddle at his feet. He will also ask you to kiss him, stopping you as you walk by him by taking your hand and pulling you in close, an arm around your waist. “Kiss me. Please,” he’ll say quietly with the most innocent looking face and your heart will break for him. It’s the please that gets you. But he really doesn’t need to ask, because you will never not want to give him as many kisses as he needs.

Masturbation: If anyone is an expert in jerking off, it’s Five Hargreeves. How could he not be? It was him and his hand/Dolores for 45 years, and a guy has needs. Would he prefer your mouth or your pussy to stick his dick in? Absolutely. But sometimes you’re not available, or the timing isn’t right, or you’re not in the mood. In which case, Five knows exactly how to efficiently and quickly rub one out and then go about his day. He loves to watch you finger yourself, though. Especially when he makes you tell him who you are thinking of while you’re doing it (always him). He also has no shame in masturbating in front of you while you are taking care of yourself. Sitting there, nonchalantly and slowly stroking his hard cock while he watches you play with yourself, maybe giving you directions while you do it. It’s just one of the ways he reminds you who’s in charge.

Praise: Yes, he will praise you for being a good girl. This kind of goes hand in hand with the Daddy kink. “Be a good girl for Daddy,” he’ll tell you while slowly running the back of his hand down your cheek. If you follow his directions, he will give you all the praise you deserve. “Such a good girl, taking it so well for me” “That’s my good girl” “That’s right baby, you’re perfect” “You’re doing so good, just a little longer sweetheart” He might be demanding you suck his cock or flinging you around like a ragdoll on the bed and fucking you senseless, but he will always tell you how good you are being for him. Like the perfect gentleman he is.

Appearance: This includes body type, clothing, lingerie, hair, and make-up. Five does not have a specific body type per se. If he finds you attractive, he finds you attractive, end of story. He may have a slight preference towards nice boobs and a tight ass, but that’s just on a superficial basis. Chubby tummy? Thick thighs? Flat chest? Bony elbows and knees? He does not care. If he loves you, then you’re the most beautiful woman in the world and he wouldn’t want you any other way. He does love a tight skirt and high heels, though. Watching your ass bounce along while you sashay your hips in front of him will have him wishing he could blink you away somewhere private, flip that skirt up, and take care of business. And if you whisper in passing that you’re not wearing any underwear, he just might. Five loves you fully naked, sprawled out just for him. But his brain misfires a few times when he sees you in sexy lingerie. A lace bra, tight corset, thong panties, or even just a skimpy little tank top has him drooling and stumbling all over himself in an effort to get his dick under control. Wearing a sexy outfit like this is a good way to make him the submissive one, because he will do anything for you at this point. It’s actually pretty hilarious to see him at a loss for words for once, jaw on the floor, and licking his lips at just the sight of you. A flustered Five is the best. He doesn’t have much preference for hair style, as long as there’s enough to grab in his fist when you’re blowing him. Same goes for make-up. The only exception to that is lipstick. Five loves when you wear red lipstick for him. He likes to see the trail it makes over his body as your lips kiss and suck him all over. He loves to see it smudged all over your mouth, on his face, and on his cock. It’s just one of those things that reminds him that you are all his.

Possessiveness: Which brings us to this. Five can be a little possessive. Not in a “you’re not going anywhere without me" kind of way. He’s not at all like that. But he does like to remind you now and then who exactly you belong to. That body is only for him to touch, and kiss, and fuck. He doesn’t get jealous, because there’s nothing to be jealous over. He trusts you and you trust him. You are independent and have your own life outside of him, and that’s just one of the reasons he loves you. But he does get territorial, and there’s a difference. If another man puts a hand on you and you don’t like it, or someone propositions you in some way, well then they are in for a real big fucking awakening. Five may try to keep his assassin instincts to himself most of the time, but if he sees some random guy disrespecting you, things are going to get ugly. He may not even need to use any actual physical force or violence. Just the threat of it is usually enough. But if that doesn’t work, and the stupid moron isn’t backing down, well, that’s their own fault. There will be a fake, saccharine smile, and a derisive chuckle as the last warning. Then the poor bastard will find himself either punched in the mouth or facedown in the dirt with a foot on his back while being forced to give a teary apology for his treatment of you. If he were ever faced with the need, Five would kill for you. No questions asked. You’re in real danger? He won’t think twice about putting a bullet into some dude’s skull. Luckily, a few clever insults, some well-timed blinks, and a swift kick to the jaw are all he really needs to get his point across. Then afterwards, he’ll take you home and fuck your brains out, because you are his and he is yours, and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

#five hargreeves x you #number five x you #five hargreeves x reader #number five x reader #five hargreeves #five x you #number five #five x reader #five hargreeves imagine #number five imagine #the umbrella academy #tua #five hargreeves smut #umbrella academy #number five fanfic #headcanon #number five headcanon #badkittywrites

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munsonsmixtapes · 2 months ago

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I'm Not That Girl

Fiyero Tigelaar x shy!fem!reader

summary: you think Fiyero is only flirting you to be nice because you're not the kind of girl he usually goes for, but he's more than eager to set the record straight when confusion arises

This is based on a comment made on this post by @cultish-corner!

Nothing but anxiety courses through you the second you step foot on campus. You don’t know anyone and are nothing but nervous to be in a new place with new people. That’s your worst nightmare, you think, as you walk throughout the campus to the suite you were assigned, you can’t help but feel like everyone is staring at you, but absolutely no one is paying you any mind as you make your way down the hallway, repeatedly looking down at the sheet you’ve received to make sure you have the right room.

This is the first time you’ve ever been away from home for an extended period of time and you hate that you already miss it. But you’re excited for a new adventure. Even though you’re nervous, you’re still looking forward to what your time at Shiz will bring you. You’re looking forward to a change.

You’re so focused on looking at the sheet that you’re not even looking when you bump into something, or rather, someone. The collision causes your things to fall out of your hands and onto the floor, causing the stranger to drop to their knees, picking it all up rather quickly before holding your suitcase and papers out to you, a flirty smile on his pretty face that you only see out of the corner of your eyes because you’re afraid of making eye contact with him.

“Here,” he says, handing the paper to you, still holding onto your suitcase which confuses you.

“Oh,” you reply. “Thank you.”

He’s easily the prettiest man you’ve ever seen and you can’t help but be distracted by his striking blue eyes that definitely have a very flirty glint in them. You immediately recognize him as the prince you had seen in the newspaper not too long ago, seeing that he’d transferred here. You know all about his reputation, but that doesn’t stop you from wanting to speak to him. In fact, it makes you want to do it even more.

“It’s my pleasure. I am so sorry for my clumsiness,” he apologizes even though it was very obviously you who ran into him. “I guess I was just so distracted by your beauty.” You don’t care if it’s a line, it works, causing your cheeks to heat as you tuck your chin to your chest, not wanting him to see you.

“My apologies,” he sticks his hand out and takes free one, causing you to finally look up at him and you’re captivated by his pretty, blue eyes. “Fiyero Tiglaar, Winkie Country,” he says as his lips press a soft kiss to the top of your hand.

“I-I’m y/n,” you introduce yourself, your voice still too soft for your liking.

“Y/n,” he repeats your name slowly, a flirty tone to it and you just know that he does this with everyone he comes across, but you hope, you pray that this is different. You want him to be flirting with you because he thinks you’re pretty, not because he can. “I think that might be my favorite name of all.”

“Now, shall we?” He asks, moving to stand beside you, offering you his arm and you loop your own arm through it before he reaches over and grabs hold of your luggage.

“Where are we going?” You ask, your voice so low that Fiyero is almost unable to hear you.

“I’m going to walk you to your room,” he says with a bright smile, leading you down the hallway, everyone who’s around whispering as the two of you walk together. It’s no secret that he’s popular, how could he not be with his looks and charm? And seeing him with you, the shy, new girl will definitely stir up some rumors.

Your room is just down the hall and even though he’s only just met you, Fiyero doesn’t want to leave you. He wants you to invite him inside where the two of you sit on your bed and get to know each other. He wants to know everything about you. He wants to know where you grew up, what your hobbies are, whatever you want to tell him because he likes the sound of your voice.

“We’ll, here we are,” he says, hesitantly removing his arms from yours as you step away before taking your suitcase back from him. “It was a pleasure.” He bows then stands there, almost like he’s waiting for something.

“Here we are,” you repeat, wondering what it is that he’s wanting. He should at least be halfway down the hall by now.

“Tomorrow, you should sit with me in the dining hall. I’d really enjoy your company,” he smiles and you nod in response.

“I’d really like that,” you tell him, still nodding, feeling a warmth creep on your cheeks as you do so. You don’t know why you take him so seriously. Guys like him don’t ever give you so much as a second glance let alone a lunch invitation. By tomorrow, Fiyero will forget all about you.

The hallway is quiet and empty when you sneak out of your room. You can’t sleep because of how nervous you are for your first day of classes. Especially since it’s a few months into the year and you’re the only new person. Everyone else has gotten the chance to know each other and you’re new.

It’s taking everything in you not to pack up your stuff and leave so you don’t have to face anyone tomorrow. You don’t care if it’s dramatic or that you’re overreacting, it’s not like anyone will miss you anyway. You always seem to fade into the background no matter what’s going on and that’s the way you like it. You hate being the center of attention and know that it will distract you from your first day if everyone is staring at you.

You close the door gently and turn around slowly, letting out a yelp as you see Fiyero leaning against the wall across from you. He’s in his pajamas so you’re led to believe that he can’t sleep either. And he can’t, but not for the same reason as you. He’s just not tired and that’s not uncommon for him. He often has trouble sleeping. But tonight, he’s hoping you’ll keep him company so he doesn’t have to go back to bed alone.

He pushes off of the wall and steps over to you, moving slowly because he can see that he’s startled you. You take a step forward and he can’t help but stare at you, wondering what you’re also doing up so late.

“What are you doing up?” He asks, his eyebrows furrowing in both confusion and worry. He wants to reach for you, but he decides against it. If there’s going to be any touching, he wants you to be the one to initiate it.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you shake your head and he nods in understanding. His face softens and that infectious smile spreads across it. You can’t help but mimic him and that’s definitely something he could get used to seeing more often.

“Me neither,” he replies then offers his hand out to you. “Would you like to go somewhere with me?” Go somewhere with him? You look this way and that to make sure there’s no one else he could possibly be talking to and he just laughs in response, a little too loudly for your liking.

You step closer and press the palm of your hand to his lips to muffle his laughs and you both widen your eyes at your boldness. His eyes soften before yours do, more laughs spilling from his mouth as he pulls your hand away, holding it in his.

“You’re going to get us in trouble,” you whisper to him and his laughs slowly turn into chuckles as he gives your hand a squeeze.

“You need to relax,” he shakes his head. “And besides, trouble is my middle name.” You roll your eyes at his words and Fiyero really likes being able to more of your personality. “So,” he steps closer to you so that you’re toe to toe. “Are we going or what?”

You’re not sure why, but you’ve found yourself to be at ease with him. He’s one of the only people who hasn’t had any problem with how shy and soft-spoken you are. He even seems to like it, not minding in the slightest having to get closer to hear what you have to say. In fact, he seems to prefer it.

“Yes,” you nod. “Let’s go.”

“So you’re just going to blindly follow a man that you barely know to an unknown location where anything could happen to you?” He teases as he pulls you down the hallway and you never thought about it that way, and if it had been anyone else, maybe you would be worried, but not with Fiyero. “Well, y/n, I thought you knew better than that.”

“And the same goes to you, Tigelaar,” you retort. “I could just as easily be as dangerous.”

“Somehow, I just don’t think that’s true. You’re far too sweet.” You hate that he’s right. It wouldn’t even cross your mind to hurt someone unless they made the first move.

“You don’t even know me.” And he hates that he doesn’t. He hopes that in the coming weeks that you’ll be friends or maybe even more, but he knows the latter is probably just wishful thinking.

“And that’s exactly why I invited you to join me tonight. I want to get to know you. It’s also the reason why I invited you to eat with me in the dining hall.” You’re confused now. You thought he was just trying to be nice. And now you feel terrible for even thinking that he wasn’t being genuine.

“You were serious about that?” Fiyero is quick to turn around to face you, hurt flashing across his face. And seeing the pain expression on yours is making him feel even worse. He thought that his intentions were pretty clear, but apparently he had been wrong.

“O-of course I was serious. Why would I joke about that?” He’s leaning closer to you, taking your hands in his gently as he pulls you closer, wanting you to look him in the eyes when he speaks. “I invited you because I want to spend time with you, to get to know you. Don’t let anyone ever tell you any different,” he says as he pushes some hair away from your face.

“I know it sounds silly since we’ve only just met, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since this morning.” The look in his eye is nothing but genuine and now you feel silly for thinking that he was anything but.

“I thought it was just me,” you reply, your eyes lighting up.

“No,” he shakes his head, leaning even closer to you as his hands move to rest in your hips, his eyes searching your face for any sign of discomfort or hesitance. “Can I try something?” He asks in a whisper, his eyes shifting your lips and you think you know what he wants to try.

“Yes,” you reply as your eyes flutter shut, feeling his breath fanning your face as he leans down and presses his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. Your arms wrap around his neck as he pulls you closer to him, responding to his kiss as your lips slot between his, moving with them as best as you can.

Fiyero pulls away before you’re ready and pulls you a few feet before spinning you into him, pressing another kiss to your lips. He then takes you to the gardens where you spend the rest of the night, talking about everything and nothing between sweet kisses until the sun comes up. You think it’s needless to say that you’re really going to like it at Shiz.

#wicked #fiyero tigelaar #fiyero tigelaar x reader #fiyero x you #fiyero x reader #fiyero x y/n #fiyero x fem!reader #fiyero x shy!reader

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gb-patch · 7 months ago

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GB Patch Games: Response About Sensitivity Reader

[Some of you might not have heard of this happening, but I wanted to address it across the board]

Hey everyone,

I want to make a post about the screenshots of comments from one of our sensitivity readers. The situation is that neither me or Rose want people to feel uncomfortable with Our Life: Now & Forever, but Rose hasn’t done anything terribly wrong and isn’t going to be punished.

The comment about OL MCs wasn’t meant to be genuine hatred towards all male players/MCs of OL. Rose wrote a reply about it-

"Hi everyone! This is Rose, I want to address the male MC comment since it was taken wildly out of context and without the lengthy discussion that was after it. I don't hate male MCs, in fact far from it, male MCs are integral to the story in OL:NF as female and trans MCs are. I think the relationship they could potentially have with Qiu could be a great asset in my opinion as they figure out their gender alongside the MC. The discussion itself was about how I noticed players were sticking to heteronormative norms by shipping Tamarack with a man purely out of societal norms than it was genuine thought into the characters and how I personally wished there was more sapphic relationships with Tamarack or just Tamarack with trans characters as a sapphic trans person myself. I didn't mean to offend anyone by it as no one but my friends who understood what I legitimately meant behind my message and it definitely wasn't meant to be seen seriously. I am sorry regardless to anyone I have offended and I love your male MCs regardless."

And most of the comments were about me. I’ve seen screenshots of the full conversations and they’re not as harsh as the cropped snippets made them out to be. It was longer discussions about not including Derek in any base game Moments for no good reason and not having any plus-sized love interests in OL1 because I was afraid players wouldn’t accept it. That’s not a lie, it’s what I decided for the game I created, and it is ridiculous of me. I’m the one who should be feeling embarrassed over how OL1 will forever be that way, not the people who remember that I did that. I’m not perfect and Rose actually cares more about the players than making me feel like I am flawless.

I also don’t want to tone police an employee venting about their boss in private, on their own time. Both the OL games deal with personal, important topics. This is sensitive work, and it can bring up frustrations. Sometimes people do use harsh words among friends, but they wouldn’t ever say it to a person seriously and directly.

I understand if you wouldn’t want to see anyone speak badly of a dev you like, but I promise it’s not a point of contention between me and Rose. I don’t feel mistreated in anyway. Rose genuinely cares about the Our Life series, and that’s why they get fed up with me over certain parts of the game.

Rose has never been unkind or unreasonable to me when working on the project, and their advice is detailed and well-explained. They do care about the game and want it to avoid having content that upsets people because of my own ignorance/shortcomings.

This being shared publicly from a private server is targeting Rose and seems to be a continuation of things that have happened before this. I don’t want this to continue happening. If you do still have concerns over the one comment about the community, you can let me know. But again, I don’t want people being mistrustful of Rose on my behalf for comments about me in conversations with missing context.

Do not send angry messages to Rose about any of this. We’ll do our best so that OL2 will be better than I was before. Thank you to everyone who reads this and participates in the community!

#gb patch #gb patch games #our life #our life: now & forever #our life: beginnings & always

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seeingivy · 2 months ago

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sukuna and “ we have to stop meeting like this” plssss

we have to stop meeting like this x ryomen sukuna

**part of my tortured poets concert event

“we have to stop meeting like this.”

sukuna can tell when he’s in trouble.

he’s seen the look hundreds of times – when he used to talk too loudly during lectures in college, when he’s late to meetings at work, from his brother when he misses his nephew’s basketball games – to the point where he’s able to pinpoint it down to the expression.

narrowed eyes. furrowed eyebrows. a pursed expression.

and sukuna can evaluate that, at the very least, he’s not in trouble with you, because you have none of the three, despite the fact that he’s most definitely earned it at this point. a testament to your overwhelmingly large well of patience. if sukuna’s bruised eye isn’t betraying him, he’s almost convinced that he sees a whisper of a smile on your face.

sukuna readjusts himself in the bed, shifting awkwardly from how small the stretcher is, as you make your way over to his side and pull the shiny blue latex gloves over your hands.

“how else am i going to see you, doc?” he asks.

you roll your eyes.

you’re not particularly fond of downtown los angeles.

there’s too many people – bustling in the streets, clogging up the sidewalk – to the point where you feel like you see hundreds of people every single day. and while the initial thought of moving was exciting, of the unknown, you very quickly realize that you detest it.

you work in an emergency department that houses almost hundreds of patients everyday. strangers going in and out, coworkers cycling through to the point where you can barely remember anyone's name, and it’s a severely stark culture shock from the ten manned hospital you used to work at out in the suburbs. the same few patients you saw every few months.

nothing is consistent in los angeles. except for the promise of a local bar owner, by the name of ryomen sukuna, who always tumbles in around the holidays with some type of injury.

halloween. new years eve. thanksgiving. a broken arm, dislocated shoulder, a viral infection.

“you know, i almost thought you weren’t coming.” you joke.

“and miss out on valentine’s day with you?” he asks.

you reach forward, fingers light on the side of the face as you guide him to look straight at you, so you can assess the damage. there’s a deep cut on the side of his forehead, superficial, accompanied by bruising around the soft warmth of his eyes.

and while his pretty face is intact, his arm evidently isn’t. there’s a deep gash, one that makes him wince loudly as you touch the bruised skin around it. you narrow your eyes at him, before craning your neck over your shoulder and whistling.

“yuuta.”

“yes, dr. l/n?”

you give him a polite smile.

“can you get me a suture kit please?” you ask.

he gives you a polite nod, quickly scurrying away towards the supply closet, as you turn back to sukuna.

“don’t make that kid do my stitches.”

“why not? that kid has to learn, you know.”

“well, he can learn on someone else, for fuck’s sake.” he mutters.

sukuna leans forward, giving you a bright grin, and whispering so quietly it sends a warm shiver down your spine.

“you’ve got a special touch, doc. i’m only going to give you permission to patch me up.”

you narrow your eyes at him.

“will you really say no if i make him do it?” you ask.

he gives you a nod.

“plus, that poor kid has been staring at that girl with the green hair the entire time. you should let them play hooky.”

“i should let my residents play hooky?” you deadpan.

sukuna shrugs.

“where’s your sense of romance?” he asks.

you cross your arms over your chest, as yuuta sets the suture kit down on the counter and reaches for the gloves. you raise your hand in the air, gesturing for him to stop, and note that you’ll slightly regret this gesture in a few hours when you have to do the paperwork.

“no need, yuuta.”

he gives you a frown.

“i don’t mind, boss. you should take a break.” he offers.

you shake your head at him.

“you should go into my office and go to the desk on the left. there’s a box of chocolates that someone gifted me in my top left drawer this morning that you should share with dr. zenin.” you note.

yuuta’s eyes go wide.

“what do you mean?” he asks.

“everyone can see that you’re hopelessly pining over maki. including my patient, who has very graciously convinced me to let you be a romantic. get out of my face before i change my mind.” you respond, making your best attempts at a stern voice.

yuuta flickers his eyes in between you and sukuna, an unmistakably delighted look on his face, as he lightly taps on the door on his way out. you turn back to sukuna, who now has his eyes narrowed at you as you open up the suture kit.

“you’re telling me there’s other people that give you gifts?” he asks.

you scoff.

“you give me gifts?” you asks.

“the pleasure of my company at your workplace. on every calendar holiday, mind you.”

you roll your eyes as you clean up the area around his skin, pulling out the silk material for his stitches. sukuna’s well versed in your stitching techniques, and with a pain tolerance so high, it only takes a few minutes.

“what did you do this time?” you ask.

“occupational hazard. who gave you the chocolates?”

you scoff.

“where do you work? the mma boxing ring?” you ask.

“do you think i’m fit enough for that? more fit than the dumbass who gave you the chocolates?” he asks, a wide grin spreading across his face.

you shrug.

“evidently not. you can barely…

you pause to lift the chart left on the table, yuuta’s messy notes scribbled on the top, before you look back to glare at him.

“...take down a christmas tree at the bar without injuring yourself. looks like you’re irritatingly possessive too.” you state.

sukuna places his hand on his chest.

“i told you to take it down earlier when suguru was still in town.” you note.

“in my defense, i was protecting my beloved nephew, yuuji, from injury. he crawled underneath and almost got trampled.” he exaggerates.

you give him a smile.

“heroic.” you deadpan.

sukuna gives you a smile, before lifting his hand up to cup the side of your cheek, the touch warm as he rubs a circle into your cheek. you lean into the feeling as sukuna reaches back and fixes the flyaways to the back of your ear, before you return to stitching up his arm.

“i’m starting to think you’re injuring yourself on purpose just to spend time with me, ryo.” you murmur.

“would that be wrong, baby?” he asks.

you roll your eyes.

“wait for me to come home, dumbass. i’m literally off in five hours.”

sukuna rolls his eyes right back at you, before leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek. he retreats as you set your forceps down, reaching for the roller bandage as you wrap it around his arm. you secure it with a piece of tape at the end, giving him a squeeze on the shoulder to signal you’re done.

sukuna interlocks his fingers with yours, lifting your hand to press your fingers to his lips.

“thanks, doc.” he murmurs, tone uncharacteristically soft.

you can’t help but sigh – the aching feeling of seeing couples doting over each other all day hitting you in full force, that you’re spending your first valentine’s day away from him – as you reach forward and run your hands through his hair.

“be careful. i’m wrapping you in bubble wrap next time.” you warm, reaching forward to lean your head against his shoulder.

sukuna welcomes the touch, with three warm kisses spread between your forehead and your hairline, as he shows you the three pictures of the little valentine’s day card that yuuji made for you that’s waiting at home.

you grant him twenty minutes – twenty minutes before you tear yourself from his side to go process his discharge paperwork – and send him on his way. you can’t help but sink into the chair the second you see his pink hair dart out the doors, as you type the last of his notes into the chart.

“did the boyfriend enjoy the chocolates?”

satoru’s hovering over your shoulder, a bright smile on his face, as he expectantly waits for an answer. you lean back in your chair, heaving a great sigh as you eye the clock.

“he was here, got injured taking down the christmas tree at the bar. and the boyfriend insisted i give them up for okkotsu and zenin. they’re probably kissing in my office for all i know.”

satoru gives you a polite tap on the head, lightly ruffling your hair, before pulling up the chair at your side.

“well, you should be flattered. sukuna’s so dedicated to spending time with you. so romantic of himself to injure himself just to come down here.”

you scoff in response.

“dedicated to being a dumbass is what he is.”

satoru shakes his head.

“i think he’s just a big fan of getting doted on. being cared for, patched up by you, and all that.”

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fairestwriting · 26 days ago

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RAHHHH, I LOVR YOUR WRITING!!!!

Can I kindly request for Leona, Jade, and Idia with a Hyper! Reader?

Like, Reader is up for everything and anything and is always either preparing for shenanigans or doing them.

ah yes. the trio i am definitely not biased towards when it comes to writing stuff (TYSM im glad you like it!!! i hope you enjoy this too <33

𐙚 Leona Kingscholar

It’s a good thing that you’re so lively, you can just have energy for the two of you, is the sort of thing you’ll hear from him a lot. Always seasoned with his signature snarky feeling, sometimes he’s more exasperated, and other times, he can actually sound quite fond and sweet.

The “Herbivore” nickname isn’t going away anytime soon, that’s for sure. It’s more than just a little jab at how non threatening you come off— You honestly kind of remind him of a rabbit. If you ask him to elaborate he says it’s because you’re “always hopping around and sticking your nose into other people’s business”. If you ask him for further explanation he says you’re just proving his point by being too curious.

To anyone who knows how to read him, it becomes quite visible that he’s really very unsuccessful at concealing how endearing he thinks your antics are. He’ll never miss an opportunity to tell you he’s absolutely not going to join you on whatever you’re up to that day, and yet… he’s always there to say these exact words.

You might manage to convince him to take you out on some fun dates, things like going to amusement parks or arcades. He actually really enjoys it, despite always playing up that unamused, grumpy act. Most of the time he’ll just stand on the sidelines and watch while you have your fun, but it’s not that hard to bait him into following you to the roller coaster. At the end of the day, he tells you he hopes you’re satisfied because he won’t be indulging you again too soon— Something you can easily prove wrong in about a week or so.

𐙚 Jade Leech

He’s always not-so-secretly overjoyed to hear about any new troublemaker type that might pop up into Azul’s radar. These people are always the most interesting to observe, after all. So even before you two actually spoke, you’ve been keeping him more than engaged.

Jade has no desire to actively cause anything that might count as mischief… or at least that’s what he says. It’s not a full blown lie, but the key word here really is “actively” — Any antics of yours that he can support will be supported. Whether by conveniently making others too intimidated to get in your way, or sharing little hints of possible interesting things to do around school. It takes him some time to start actually tagging along, even if it’s just to stand around and watch you having your fun, but when he starts to do it, he’s pretty much become your new henchman.

While he mostly keeps to himself, if you show any interest in going on hikes with him, or learning about mushrooms and such, you’ll find that he can match your energy level quite easily. Jade is actually a bit surprised at your enthusiasm when it comes to that, he’s always wondered how it’d be like to explore the woods with a partner. Very quick to make new hiking plans, even quicker to think of multiple creative ways to use up whatever you picked while out.

He finds himself smiling and laughing a lot when he’s by your side. Of course, he already does both often in general, but it’s different when he’s with you. You always have some new, interesting topic to talk about, paired with a remarkable skill to find entertaining points about seemingly anything, it’s really contagious to him.

𐙚 Idia Shroud

Thinks it’s a miracle someone like you ever became interested in him. Shouldn’t a pessimistic, anxious introvert just come off as boring to someone who’s so bright and active? For a good while, Idia just couldn’t understand how you’d even fit him into your world. You two are just so different—

He would’ve probably rejected you out of sheer hopelessness if it wasn’t for the fact that… pairing a cheerful character with a gloomy one is, in fact, a pretty popular romance trope in anime. A part of him, sort of shyly and almost guiltily, hoped that he would get to have that in real life one day.

The fact you’re even open to indulging his interests definitely helps to bring you two closer. He was so anxious about showing you anything he liked, even if it was some popular game everyone in school is talking about, it’s just too nerdy for someone like you, isn’t it? Sometimes he’s still comically surprised whenever you mention liking a game or something like that. But he can get over his nervousness pretty quickly when you suggest playing together, even if it’s just on call.

When you’re messing with other people, he likes watching it from afar. Texts asking for updates on how your latest plans are going. If he can, he’ll even bail you out of trouble, it’s not like it’s that hard to make one of the school cameras just stop working for a little bit… And he really likes your reactions to him doing things like that, the way you praise his skills with so much enthusiasm. It really makes him feel like he’s won in life, honestly.

if you like my work you can support me by commissioning me or tipping me on ko-fi ── ᵎᵎ ✦

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #leona kingscholar #jade leech #idia shroud #leona kingscholar x reader #jade leech x reader #idia shroud x reader #twst imagines #twst headcanons #lis writing

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moonlightcycle571 · 5 months ago

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The Pros Of Being Omni-Lingual

Saw a while back someone saying Captain Marvel (or Shazam or Captain Thunder or whatever name you choose for him) is omni-lingual. I have no idea if it’s actually cannon, but it lives rent free in my head, and I got no plans of evicting it any time soon.

But anyways, the reasoning makes sense. He got his powers from The Wizard, to be The Champion of Magic, so it makes sense that among his other powers, he’s got all the languages down. And that works in his favour when connecting with Heroes

In general, people are more relaxed and open when speaking in their mother tongue, and with Cap knowing all the language cause of ✨magic✨, no one can blame him for knowing even the most top secret and heavily guarded languages (like Themisquiran, Atlanlantian or other).

See, when someone like Batman or Martian Manhunter speaks to you in your native language, it’s intimidating. When another JL member does it, it’s a pleasant surprise, but you can sense they aren’t that comfy with a language also do it for work purposes.

But when Cap does it? It’s “oh you speak …” “oh, I’m omni-lingual” type dialogue. If he gets a cult after mentioning that it was a gift from the Gods, then that’s a while other story

Pair that with his sunny attitude, and his golden retriever attitude, of course he gets people to like him. He’ll understand all the memes, have fantastic insight (Wisdom of Solomon) and political views (Whiz Kid radio host). To put it blankly, he has amazing conversational skills, and I am convinced that discussions can be the most meme filled talks or the most profound stuff you have ever heard, especially if it’s about Magic.

To get back on topic, these facts make him especially loved, not just by civilians he saves (head cannon that he knows what’s your preferred language of you speak more than one and reassures them in that language), but also by other heroes.

He can be seen with Martian Manhunter and Miss Martian (speaking Martian) while helping them cook some food from their home world.

Or with Supergirl in the lounge Kryptonian (Kal is great and all, as are the other supers, but Kryptonian is not their first language, not like her).

Or with Aquaman, talking about various Sea Gods in Atlantian. Whenever he’s got some Magical duties in Atlantis for whatever reason, he always gets invited for dinner with the Aquafam. He, Mera and Gar have the best Magic discussions

He tries to avoid speaking Themesciran, cause he’s a guy and he doesn’t want to disrespect their culture, but Wonder Woman is always more relaxed when speaking in her mother tongue. Most of the time, he will settle for Greek though (it’s her second language so it’s close enough). Although he did take it upon himself to teach Cassie when Diana couldn’t

For any of the Batfam, he switches languages, every other sentence. They love it, especially Bruce, Dick and surprisingly Alfred. It’s enrichment and tests their knowledge. When Clark and Diana aren’t here and his kids are in the watch tower, they go to the Captain to help with their language education (they don’t know he’s a kid, which makes Billy think he’s adulting right). Later when it was revealed he’s a kid, it makes the JL groan that a child was the better designated Baby Sitter (now Batman sends his kids in to hopefully adopt Billy)

When meeting new heroes, it’s the same shabang. He can instantly acclimatise to them and is just a walking talking Pitbull (looks scary, is a sweetie pie)

The lantern corps love him, and keeps sending him rings. My guy has to give the GLs a bad full of rings before every meeting (although they do wonder why there’s the a red, and sometimes yellow rings in the bag). holy shit I need to make a post about lantern corp and Captain marvel

But anyways, that’s just me ranting as someone who was raised bilingual and who definitely prefers English.

#billy batson #dc captain marvel #dc #shazam #Omni lingual #bro can casually speak all languages #living rent free in my head

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fancyfeathers · 4 months ago

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Okay so..daughter darling..but Beth Harmon from Queens Gambit. I imagine she’s incredibly good at chess. She goes to all the competitions at school and wins. She even goes against Alfred and ends up winning..idk just a thought ❤️

Yandere Batfam w/ Wife/Mother!Darling & Daughter/Sister!Darling Masterlist

Oh my goodness I definitely see that!!!

I imagine she learned chess or something from someone her and her mother met on her mother’s business trips that took them all over the world. They were checking in at a hotel and while she is clinging to her mother’s hand she sees in the corner of her eye a bunch of people playing chess, an international tournament the hotel is hosting. So when her mom is off at one of her meetings she gets her nanny to take her to watch and she is hooked, especially when after one of the matches one of the players comes up over to her and kneels down onto her level and introduces herself to Daughter!Darling and…

“It’s lovely to meet you… say would you like to learn how to play? I certainly could use a partner to practice with and something tells me that you are going to be something else.”

She learns how to play that day and when her mother returns to the hotel from that meeting late that night she sees her daughter sitting at a table in the lobby with woman who is teaching her how to play chess, with so many of the other players all gathered around, some of the best chess players in the world all teaching this little girl how to play.

Her mom then gets calls from all of these chess champions, grand masters, who want to sponsor her daughter’s entry into chess tournaments, they are able to recognize the fact that her daughter has a gift. So her mother beings scheduling her meetings and business trips to be where tournaments are, letting these chess players watch her daughter while she is away at meetings, teaching her how to master the game and play the game against people four times her age. Her mom invites these chess players to parties and dinners she hosts in her home in Singapore or New York since they are so close to her daughter, like uncles and aunties.

So her world is turned upside down when her mother marries Bruce Wayne. Due to her father’s more… protective nature she does not get to go to these tournaments anymore because her mom’s work is now kept just to paperwork at the house, leaving all the foreign meetings to representatives and she is enrolled into the private school that Damian attends. Due to Damian being all so controlling and protective she does not get to spend time with her classmates and that is until after class one day right when Damian normally comes straight from his classroom to hers to walk with her to the car-

“Miss Wayne, may I speak with you for a moment? O-oh and Damian, you can come in, I’ll only be a moment with your little sister.”

Her teacher calls her up to her desk and Damian comes in, fully ready to defend her sister because he thinks she is in trouble when she gets asked to stay after class and instead her teacher hands her a piece of paper, a permission form.

“What did you just hand her?”

“Permission slip for the chess team, I am the staff supervisor for the team and- oh Damian don’t tell me you did not know.”

The teacher grabs a few papers and magazines from her desk drawer, chess publications on his little sister.

“Your little sister is a chess prodigy, learned from grandmasters and world champions. We do not have that level of players on our little team but I thought it would be nice for her to be around people who enjoy the game like her since she is still quite new to Gotham.”

Once they are out of the classroom Damian snatches the paper from her, shoving it in his bag, telling her that he will give it to father. When they get home he instead goes to press Tim, since he looked into them he must have known and Tim did know he just forgot too bring it up because it is just a hobby, when Damian realizes it is probably not the threat he imagined it to be he gives the form to Bruce who is reading with Mother!Darling which leads to another thing and more questions for her and pleading from his wife to let her.

“Bruce please, she loves the game, she has loved it since she saw it… please.”

“…fine, but Damian will have to stay after with her.”

So with that settled she joins the chess club and absolutely dominates everyone there, so much so that is just quick practice for her and Damian is stunned that his little sister who cannot sleep without her stuffed rabbit and still needs her mom to read to her before bed is able to beat the seniors on the team in two dozen moves, absolutely embarrassing them, it is kind of a a slight break in the helpless narrative that her brothers had of her.

Then the day comes around where her teacher gives her a flyer and registration form for an international tournament being hosted in the city. She takes them home and hands them to Bruce at dinner and he is clearly taken aback.

“…this is a tournament for adults, dear. I don’t think this is the type of game for you-“

“She will be fine Bruce, besides I believe some of her aunties and uncles will be competing so she will be perfectly safe with them, besides she used to do these competitions before we were married.”

“Aunties and uncles?”

“Mhm, they taught her how to play when she was four… in fact I have never missed one of her matches.”

Even if Bruce does not sign off on the tournament paperwork as her guardian, her mother will do it and will even call her aunties and uncles to let them know she is going to be playing so the world will spread like wildfire and there is no way to get her out of playing now that the press has spread the word. So when Bruce and her brothers find out it was too late to do anything.

Then when they all go to their venue the morning of the first day of the tournament so she may get the information on who is playing there is the undeniable feeling of heavy jealousy when she sees her aunties and uncles in the hotel lobby of where the tournament is being hosted, and something inside of her lights up and runs up to them and hugs them, looking more happy than she’s ever been in Gotham, because to her these are her actual family.

Then the time of her matches comes, her and her mother along with Alfred stay at the venue so she may practice before her matches in the evening. When she wins her matches it is just her mother and Alfred there, because everyone was late because of patrol. Her matches are over by the time they all arrive to watch, and she just looks up to Bruce’s eye…

“I am glad my mother was the one who raised me and left you before I was born… she has never missed one of my matches.”

“Do not speak to me like that, young lady-“

“You are not my father and never will be no matter how hard you try.”

#yandere dc x reader #yandere dc #yandere justice league x reader #yandere justice league #yandere bruce wayne #yandere bruce wayne x reader #yandere batman #yandere batman x reader #yandere batfam #platonic yandere batfam #platonic yandere #yandere batfamily #platonic yandere batfamily #platonic yandere dc #platonic yandere bruce wayne #yandere damian wayne #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake

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badly-drawn-doflamingo · 4 months ago

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Brook’s Past, Military and Everything Between [ An Essay kinda ]

Brook’s past is not a thing many people seem to mention or think about, at least in full, however it’s something that's plagued me. Not only as a Brook fan, but simply out of the odd implications it has towards the future, if any. Oda’s planted too many seeds for it to utterly be nothing; there’s so much odd and seemingly out of place comments and facts stated by Brook and others towards this missing history. However, knowing that the show is beginning to near it’s end, due to time, I am unsure of what exactly will be done.

I believe however, for folks' interest and so we can have everything in one place, that compiling everything found so far can be beneficial, so, I have.

Starting with what we know for sure, Brook is from the West Blue, born 90 years ago to a certain kingdom, the same kingdom he was a military convoy leader from. We know this due to a few factors, however it’s still open to debate if it *is* the same kingdom, however seeing as he was shown as a child to already know what fencing is, practicing moves with his bow, I am just going to say he probably was. In any case, other things worth noting, on the topic of childhood, is that Brook seems to have had money. At least, stability.

Compared to a lot of the other strawhats, Brook is shown dressing very nice. No tatters, no tears, shined shoes and a full violin and bow. He also, as already stated, seemed to be exposed to fencing enough to mirror the moves. If this comes from his kingdom, it means he was exposed to it at a young age. Knowing that he was a military convoy leader, this could be taken that perhaps there were military demonstrations, perhaps the kid saw castle guard or other displays; it’s really up in the air.

We know Brook, again as stated before, became a military convoy leader. Now, the definition of what exactly that means can differ.

Wikipedia states; A convoy is a group of vehicles, typically motor vehicles or ships, traveling together for mutual support and protection. Often, a convoy is organized with armed defensive support and can help maintain cohesion within a unit. It may also be used in a non-military sense, for example when driving through remote areas.

This could mean Brook’s job could’ve been accompanying ships for protection, being a knight for his King, mediating information and goods that come in and out of the kingdom. This would make sense on why his speed was needed, a 9.2 ft man being a great choice for a leader.

His weapon also would make sense for this kind of mission, perhaps secrecy being important or at least the ability to be discreet. His cane sword, a ‘Shikomizue’, is not unique however to just him in the show, one other man using one that has been confirmed so far, that being Fujitora. The pair also share a sea, the west, and both utilize iaijutsu (quick draw techniques.) Fujitora blinded himself with said sword because of something apparently so cruel and inhumane that he rather not see anguish. This may be related to Brook’s departure from his kingdom, which is addressed later in this essay. (Fig 3-5.)

Another thing that’s worth mentioning here is Brook’s attack patterns, being unique even for his kingdom apparently. Once again, during the Ryuma fight, Brook states, and I quote;

“Ryuma: “Now tell me, what part of that wretched excuse for a body would you like me to severe with my special ‘Arrow Notch Slash?’ Brook: You don’t know a thing about that move, so do not use it’s name. I use to serve in my kingdom’s raider squad. The quick draw attack that I was most skilled at was ‘Requiem Lebanderole’. My comrades-in-arms renamed it in regards to my fighting technique.”

(Fig. 1, Brook explains his raider squad and move names. A banderole mind you is a long flag for BATTLE crusades. )

This sets up a few interesting facts. 1. Brook was in a raider squad, a kingdom’s group of marauders, as well as if not the same job as convoy leader.

2. His techniques were unique to him, or at least specialized to a degree of having a nickname. 3. As expected, he seems to have been close to these men he commanded, adding another layer over Brook loosing the Rumbars.

Being in both a raider squad and being a convoy leader at one point, if not the same point, implies either Brook was simply versatile, acting in both in separate years or periods. Or, the most likely, that he was higher ranking than expected, making him a CO, or commanding officer. (Lieutenant Colonel is another equal rank for scale, making Brook just below a Major.) This makes him quite the important figure, especially for a kingdom that seems to value its military so much, so much so that a child of Brook’s age would already know about their style of fencing, as expressed already. Brook’s devil fruit is worth mentioning here, the revive-revive fruit not likely to be found by a crew like the Rumbars. It is spoken about as if he has always had it amongst the crew, being a fact of life. However, when did he get that fruit and why? I propose where it would be useful; in combat. If your military convoy leader, your best swordsman could be shot and come right back to protect the king, would he not be utterly invaluable? You would never let him leave… But he DID leave. It’s not said why, however we have some extra tidbits of information that may tell us why, and that ALSO may tell us the answer to what kingdom he means.

( Fig. 2. Brook states his leaving of the military for unknown reasoning, the word certain being used in an odd way, establishing his bounty.) This bounty mind you all is in fact, using inflation method, 297,000,000 berries. That is a MASSIVE bounty for just a pirate. Perhaps a certain blond stole a treasure a kingdom could not replace; their convoy leader. Lets rewind for a moment and cover something that may be seen as off topic however I will come right back to the subject at hand; Calico Yorki. Yorki is an odd bird, pirate wise. He makes his crew read his bounties and information, is never shown to play an instrument/sing but makes his crew preform/they all do, and makes Brook make him dinner. (Steak, and Brook continues to be able to make it as confirmed by an SBS.) What is oddest yet, other than his large crew and shirtless habits, is his nature. A man that set to sea to play music for “orphans and crying children” as stated by himself; a crew made for “any men who love music.” Now, I could be reading into this too hard, however from his speech patterns, to this apparent need for a large family, it seems that singing to orphans may be a very personal goal. An orphan turned pirate perhaps, with lofty dreams and a heart of gold, it reads to me that Yorki may have been just that. Knowing this, orphan or not, we now can compare these facts to Brook’s life up until their meeting. A child who probably grew up being taught to fight, being around access to education, expenses and the kingdom’s training. Why would a man like Brook ever join a man like Yorki, and if it’s only music, would that not make Brook a deserter? I do not think that is the case. I will now bring forward some interesting evidence regarding Brook’s kingdom and WHY he would leave. Germa 66. During Zou to Whole Cake, a few mentions of Germa are made with Brook around, garnering interesting reactions indeed.

( Fig. 3. Brook listens but chooses not to add anything utter than silence, his music pausing as well.) This silence could be take as simple ignorance, however Brook later admits he knows of the kingdom, in fact, he knows a lot. A lot more than anyone else did, Reiju admitting interest in his knowledge and once again, Brook brushes it off.

(Fig 4, 5, Brook speaks about Germa 66.) He seems to underplay or simply not elaborate a LOT on his kingdom, as if something happened. Perhaps joining Yorki was not out of simple cowardice or need to be free, (which again if he did would both reflect poorly upon his entire character and not be in character for him what so ever,) but in fact, out of necessity. It could have been Germa 66, it could have been some other grouping, however I believe this will come to be something important. The kingdom possibilities are interesting as well, and I will list the following LIKELY possibilities. (Other options are known to not be military, like Ohara, or literally places like Thriller Bark itself.) - Toroa - God Valley - Illsia Kingdom - Soja Kingdom The most likely candidates, because again, it is labeled as certain kingdom (Fig 2.) is Toroa or Soja, however I will personally lean into Toroa. This is because of a man by the named of Byron.

(Fig 6. Byron and his information.) His nose and face shape vaguely resemble Brook, however honestly that is a stretch. What is NOT however is his familiar attire, family line and the placement of his kingdom. This could easily be Brook’s home, however again, this is just speculation. Brook very well could belong to God’s Valley, or the same kingdom as Issoh, fleeing because of something he did not agree with or literally could not stand any longer. But, that falls under possibility, not fact. This concludes the facts section, now comes the final question; What does it mean for the story? And, honestly, that can be debated. What Oda has done is plant odd seeds of information about the man, similar to Sanji and his ties to Vinsmoke, that have not been addressed nor talked about in full, or so I’ve found sufficiently. These seeds MAY bloom into what I hope will be a tie into some huge reveal, perhaps aid from a past member of his convoy or kingdom, or perhaps this will only spark conflict. Perhaps it will be minute, Brook being able to aid due to his knowledge, the man already in Thriller Bark showing his prowess by being able to command the strawhats into defeating zombies via salt and tactic. In any case, we can only hope these things mean anything, tied into some huge story that could explain why a man like him would quit for a redneck like Yorki, other than perhaps love, and what kingdom would let a man like him go willingly.

Updates:

- Confirmation that he’s educated! Perhaps in military or just as a whole, but confirmation nonetheless!

- I realize the reason he’s so confident with Big Mom isn’t just guts; he’s fought for royalty before. He’s just back in the fucking building again /j

- Sabaody behaviors, a convoy leader

CHECK REBLOG FOR PART TWO!!

[ PLEASE ^^ It contains the rest of his information! ]

#essay writing #brook one piece #Brook #thriller bark #One piece #one piece writing #one piece thoughts #one piece discussion #scene analysis #character analysis

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mediumgayitalian · 11 months ago

Text

“Oh, fuck.”

The clatter of her practice sword on the ground is almost louder than the crunch that rings out from his wrist. He inhales sharply, biting back a shout — no matter how many times it’s happened, he will never get used to breaking a bone. That shit hurts.

“Fuck, fuck fuck. Fuck, Seaweed Brain, is it broken?”

“Think so,” Percy grits out. He tries for a smile, and Annabeth matches it, small and worried. He leans into the hand she cups over his cheek. “Not too bad, though. If I just dump my water bottle on it —”

“Absolutely not. Water healing leaves you achey when it rains, you know that.” Shifting to wrap her arm around his waist, she helps him stand, shouldering some of his weight like it’s his ankle that’s broken. He lets her, reaching down to squeeze the hand resting on his hip — I’m fine. We’re good. She turns her hand to wrap clasp their hands together — Okay. If you’re sure.

They walk together to the infirmary, taking their time. Aside from the pain pulsing from his arm, it’s not too bad — camp is as balmy as usual, and the spring break energy is practically visible, it’s so potent. The Demeter cabin has plants growing everywhere, flowers and fruit trees blooming as bright as a box of new crayons, and the air is filled with shouts of laughter and teasing. Annabeth’s steps fall in time with his, and she’s a comfortable warmth at his side, pressed from shoulder to hip.

“You still okay?”

“Yep.” He catches her eye, smiling crookedly at her. “Doesn’t even make my top fifty.”

She rolls her eyes, hipchecking him. “Don’t I know it, ya klutz.”

“Not sure I would call being flung from the St. Louis Arch being a klutz. Or exploded in a volcano. Or crushed under the sky. Or slashed by giants. Or chased by —”

“You’re talking, but all I’m hearing is Annabeth, please, please pinch me, as hard as you can —”

“Hey! Get those claws off me, gods you’re worse than an empousai —”

“— and when you’re done pinching me please put me in the tightest headlock you can manage —”

“I am injured! You are beating up an injured person right now!”

“— and then please just bite a chunk out of my shoulder —”

“Cut it out or I’m telling Mom!”

“Wimp,” she taunts, finally releasing him. “I don’t go running to Sally every time I lose a fight.”

“Wha — you do so!”

She ducks through the infirmary door, smirking like she can’t hear him.

“You literally — you snitched on me last week! I got grounded for two days!”

“And you deserved it,” she says primly.

He gapes. “I did not!”

“Anytime you two are done,” Kayla drawls, shoving a clipboard at them. They accept it with matching sheepish grins, cowed at her perfectly arched eyebrow and slowly tapping foot. “I got patients to deal with and older brothers to harass. Let’s get this moving.”

She is shockingly good at humbling people for a thirteen year old. The two of them turn to their clipboard, chagrined, letting her stomp away with an exasperated He’ll be with you soon! Don’t set off the sprinklers again!

“That was one time,” Percy mumbles, ears reddening.

Annabeth pats him on the back. “There, there,” she says mockingly. “The fact that it was one time definitely negates the fact that you flooded the entire Big House because you got jumpscared by a child.”

“Harley can be sneaky, okay. Let me live.”

“Literally no.”

Annabeth does most of the paperwork for him, ‘cause she’s a nerd because his wrist is far too swollen for him to write properly, so it takes maybe half the time it normally would. The infirmary is crowded as Hell, though (he knows, he’s been), so they settle in for the wait, amusing themselves by tearing little pieces off of a blank form, balling them up, and tossing them in increasingly harder places. Percy is winning 7-4, although Annabeth might just pull through if she manages to toss her paper ball into Travis’ wide-open snoring mouth.

“Hey, guys. Sorry for the wait.”

Aw. She missed. Percy was looking forward to that.

“Hey, Will.”

He drags his attention away from the son of Hermes to greet his friend, but frowns before he can open his mouth.

“Woah, dude, you good? You look exhausted.”

Will snorts. “Welcome to spring break, man.” He holds his hand out for the clipboard, scanning it briefly. “Sparring injury? Oh, thank the gods. I could use a break. Here, face me.”

He climbs up onto the minimal left over space on the cot, tucking his legs under his thighs. Percy turns to mirror him, hesitantly sticking out his arm — A break? he mouths to Annabeth, meeting her eyes over Will’s head.

She shrugs.

“Just spent four hours putting Jake’s nose back on his face,” Will mumbles, placing a careful hand on his fingertips and his forearm. Percy flinches — his skin is blisteringly hot. Like someone just dropped a hot stone onto him. “I never want to sing a skin cell hymn again in my life.” He prods at Percy’s wrist for a moment, gentle enough not to hurt. “Okay, hold still, I’m gonna fix ya right up.”

Healing hymns are familiar, by now, but Percy will never get tired of them.

The cool thing about ambrosia and nectar is that as pleasure food for the gods, it’s pleasant. It’s whatever taste you want, whatever you need to have most, you get it. But healing hymns are intentional the way nectar and ambrosia aren’t. Ambrosia and nectar happen to be healing for demigods — healing hymns were constructed to knit you back together, like you mother smoothing a bandaid over a skinned knee. They’re warm and sweet and deeply, endlessly comforting in a way most things simply cannot claim to be. They don’t feel like a medical procedure or a hasty patch job, they feel like someone gripping you tightly and promising you’ll be okay. They feel like getting carried to bed when you fall asleep on the couch. They feel like sitting down after hours of standing, like a drink of water when your throat is drier than sand. Healing hymns draw the pain and sick and ache from your body, and they feel like relief.

But this time, Percy can’t focus on it.

With every word, Will seems to get a little duller. Nothing like the horrible ash-grey he went in the war, dragging the poison from Annabeth’s body, but like his usual sunny disposition was dialed down a few notches. Enough that Annabeth frowns in concern, drumming her hands on her thighs, watching him closely.

“There,” Will says, pulling away. Percy turns his now-healed wrist, noticing the slight pant to Will’s breath, the strain to his smile. The shake of his blistered fingertips.

“You look overworked,” Annabeth says quietly.

Will holds his hands up in a what can you do gesture. “Spring break.”

“You said.”

“It’s just busy, is all.”

“Yeah, but —”

“Guys,” he interrupts, smiling tiredly, “there are two hundred ADHD demigods at this camp right now who have been trapped in a classroom for six months. There are three of us. I’m going to be a little drained; we’re all a little drained. But I’m fine, okay?” He gives them a second to scrutinize his expression, eyebrows raised in amusement. “I have been running my infirmary for years. I know how to pace myself, and I certainly know how to make sure my siblings are pacing themselves. If something goes really wrong, Chiron is a whistle away. I can go longer than you guys without sleep, anyway. Apollo kid health.”

“If you say so,” Percy says reluctantly. “I just — I can wear a wrist brace, man. Not every injury needs to be handled when it happens. You can tell people no.”

“I appreciate that, Percy, and I’ll keep it in mind. Anyways, I’ve got more patients. Stay off that wrist for the rest of the day, okay? It might be tender for a bit.”

Percy turns to Annabeth as Will leaves, frowning. He’s has never noticed the so-called spring break stress before (his camp spring breaks are usually a blast, but now that he’s thinking about it, he can’t think of a single spring break where he spent any time at all with Will, which is odd), but it can’t be good for him. There’s gotta be something they can do to ease some of the bruising under their friend’s eyes.

“I could set off the fire alarms again,” Percy suggests. “That’ll certainly get this place cleared out.”

Annabeth snorts. “I think that’ll cause more harm than good, Seaweed Brain. It’ll just fall in him to clean it all up, after.”

“Shoot.”

Percy counts nine of the forty cots currently unused. Will, Kayla, and Austin are rushing from cot to cot, handing out nectar, wrapping bandages, rattling off hymns at light speed. All three of them look exhausted, squeezing shoulders when they pass each other, knocking hips, exchanging tired smiles. This is so clearly something they’re used to.

Annabeth’s head rests on his shoulder.

“It wasn’t always like this,” she whispers. “When it was fully staffed…”

Percy exhales heavily. Yeah. He remembers. There was a lot less complication, once upon a time. The most chaotic the infirmary would get was when Lee would challenge his siblings to Hymn Karaoke — trying to heal with pop songs. There was a lot more laughter, at one point. A lot more people.

Percy sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. It never does well to dwell, but he — gods, he wish they all had more time. To sit with it, to acknowledge…everything. Siblings. Friends. A camp that’s smaller than it’s supposed to be.

Annabeth squeezes his hand again, and he squeezes back, resting his head on top of hers.

“Hey,” she murmurs after a moment, pursing her lips at the front door. “Look.”

Slinking through the entrance like a criminal is Nico, in all his dork ass black camp shirt glory. He looks around shiftily, like he’s trying to make sure no one sees him, and when his gaze lands on Percy and Annabeth his eyes widen. Annabeth smiles at him, but it does nothing to ease the spooked look to his face, back arched like a startled cat. He turns to leave, but before he can slip back out the door —

“Nico!”

The son of Hades whips back around so quickly he brains himself on the doorframe. Percy ducks his head and bites his lip, hard, because he can feel Nico’s glare at the side of his head like the press of hot coal, and if he laughs as badly as he wants to then the infirmary is about to look like a Spirit Halloween.

Will turns back to his patient, squeezing his eyes shut and rattling a hymn off so quickly it makes a burst of light pop from his whole body, and rushes over to where Nico’s standing. He only trips over two things, which is remarkable for him. Percy would be proud if he wasn’t a little embarrassed on his behalf.

“Nico! Hi!”

“He-ey, Will,” Nico says, voice cracking badly on every vowel. Annabeth shoves her face into Percy’s shoulder, body shaking.

“I didn’t know you were coming! I thought you were in the arena all day.”

Nico shrugs, shoes scuffing the floor. “I am. I just — uh, I got hurt? So. Came to see you.”

Will’s beam is so bright it hurts to look at, a little. Percy squints and realises that’s not just the excitement, actually — he really is glowing, faintly. His hands flap slightly at his sides.

“Well, you’re in the right place, then.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of them say anything for a minute, rocking back on their heels. Will watches Nico closely, biting his lip. Nico looks resolutely at the floor.

“We weren’t this bad,” Annabeth whispers, “were we?”

Percy shakes his head. “Nah, there’s no way.”

“Gods. It’s so — I don’t know whether to smile or take a dip in the Lethe. It’s embarrassing and endearing at the same time.”

“Painful to watch, but I can’t stop looking,” Percy agrees.

“What’d you hurt?” Will asks, finally. “Did you pull your shoulder again?”

A look of panic flits briefly across Nico’s face until he smooths it to something neutral, aloof.

“Yep. Totally. During — sword fighting, I swung — I did this really big thrust, actually. Just — hugely powerful, training dummy exploded on impact.” He clears his throat. “Some might say too powerful. If you can imagine.”

Percy cradles his head in his hands. “Oh my gods — ”

“Don’t laugh don’t laugh don’t laugh,” Annabeth chants, “oh my gods, don’t laugh —”

A light flush dusts Will’s cheeks. He brushes a strand of hair behind his ear, fiddling with his earrings. “Woah, really? I’ve never heard of that before.”

Nico smirks, standing up a little straighter. “Well, it’s not the first time. I tend to go pretty hard.” Remembering his supposedly hurt shoulder, he exaggerates a wince. “Too hard sometimes, I guess. Could you do the — the energy thing?”

“Oh — gods, yeah, sorry. Hold on.” He stares at Nico’s shoulder, hesitating. “It, um, works better with skin-to-skin contact.”

“I have seen crystal vases less transparent,” Annabeth says, aghast. “In two years he’s going to remember this and try to drown himself.”

“I will be counting down the days,” Percy says gleefully.

On rare, rare occasions, the gods answer his prayers. Clearly, both Nemesis and Aphrodite are looking at him kindly today. Percy makes a note to scrape some of the good stuff off his plate for them both today. Hell, maybe he’ll skip the portioning and toss them an entire roast chicken each. Or something. They deserve it.

Will places both hands — interesting, Percy notes, his wrist was snapped cleanly in two and he only needed one hand, wonder why that was — on Nico’s shoulder and closes his eyes, screwing up his face in concentration.

“Huh. I’m not feeling much damage. You said it was your right shoulder?”

“I heal quick,” Nico says loudly. “I mean, some of the damage might have — um.” He clears his throat. His face glows a faint crimson. He clears his throat again. “Y’know?”

Will’s face is a similar shade.

“Right, right. Yeah. Um, brace yourself.”

Instead of starting to sing, Will closes his eyes, holding completely still. After a moment, the tips of his fingers begin to glow; soft, ambery yellow, flickering like lit candles. He opens his eyes again and focuses intently on Nico’s bare skin, tracing patterns around every defined muscle, leaving a trail of light behind. He lingers, for a moment, when he connects the last string of light, waiting until it has faded entirely from Nico’s skin to remove his hands and shove them in the pockets of his coat.

“That better?” he asks softly.

Nico swallows. “Yeah.”

“Good. I’m glad, Nico. It means a lot that you — came to me. When you needed it.”

“I trust you, I guess.” Nico looks away. “You know what you’re doing.”

“I think I just threw up in my mouth a little,” Percy says thoughtfully.

Annabeth laughs, shoving his shoulder. “Don’t be mean.” She pauses. “Me too.”

With a sigh that can only be described as besotted, Will steps reluctantly away.

“I have patients,” he says, in the same tone of voice Percy usually says I have midterms. “So I gotta…”

“Yeah, no, go. Do your —” Nico gestures vaguely. “Doctor thing.”

“Right. Yeah. I’m gonna — go.” He turns, walking back towards a group of Hephaestus kids who appear to be tightly entangled in some kind of net. After a few steps, though, he pauses, biting his lip, then darts back over to Nico, pressing a lightning-fast kiss to his cheek — “Um, bye. Thank you for visiting. Bye,” — and then runs back over to his siblings, shy smile on his face.

Nico’s jaw is brushing the floor of his father’s palace. He stands, still as a statue, for four entire minutes.

“I think he just died,” Annabeth observes, eyebrows climbing higher and higher up her forehead with every passing second “Damn. Survived so much only to literally die because a cute boy kissed his cheek. A true hero’s end.”

Percy, because he is a kind, concerned friend, clears his throat loudly.

“Yo, di Angelo, you alive?”

Nico startles so violently he falls right over. Percy shoves his fist in his mouth to keep from cackling.

“Shut the fuck up,” Nico hisses venomously, scrambling upright. “Both of you, shut the — not a word —”

Percy and Annabeth make the mistake of looking at each other and simply erupt. Percy can’t feel his stomach. His lungs have abandoned ship. He’s glad as hell he’s in the infirmary because he is heaving for breath, tears streaming down his face, entire body convulsing. Nico stands in front of them literally shaking with rage, entire body redder than one of Apollo’s sacred cows, trying and failing to string together a threat that will ease any and all of his suffering. Annabeth screeches, almost falling off the bed as she cackles. Percy cannot even find the strength to catch her, his muscles are so weak.

“I fucking — I hate you! Both of you! You’re dead to me!”

“Your face!” Percy shrieks.

“Percy Jackson, I am going to turn you to fucking dark matter! I despise your very essence! I —” He stomps his foot. “I’m leaving, and I’m going to leave a rotting corpse in your cabin! Screw you!”

“Oh my gods,” Annabeth wheezes, digging her nails into his arm. “Oh my gods, that was —”

Percy wipes a tear from his eye. “I love being alive. I love being alive so much.”

“It really is great.” Composing herself, and biting back the leftover giggles that keep bubbling out, Annabeth looks back towards Will. He stands much straighter, now, smile back to full brightness. His siblings, too, look rejuvenated, snickering to each other and making kissy faces behind Will’s back. “So many beautiful things to witness. I’ve never seen his face go that red.”

Percy sighs. “This is genuinely going to carry me through the semester. I think his soul died a little. And Will just — gods, that kid is bold.”

“Oh says you, Mr. Do I Get A Good Luck Kiss.”

“Hey, I earned that.”

Annabeth grins, punching him in the shoulder. He grabs her wrist and tugs her towards him, chasing the curve of her smile. She laughs into his mouth and it taste like strawberries and freedom, and he presses a kiss to her cheek, to her jaw, and the side of her neck, resting there, breathing against her skin. After a moment her hands come up and slide in his hair, gently untangling the knotted mess.

“He is one thousand percent going to put a zombie in your bed, you know,” she says after a moment.

Percy snorts. “Yeah, I know.” He smiles. “Worth it.”

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