#i think before this the only people who would have known are their birth family? who's a bunch of isolated keepers so basically no one knows

[imaginaryf1shots]

Hidden | Max Verstappen

WC: 1.5K

Max x wife!reader

Summery: May has always a private person, but is he that private that he could hide his wife of 8 years and 2 year-old son.

Warnings: none

AN: This is a little something, while I’m working on two big fics

Masterlist

Max Masterlist

Max Verstappen is many things, and when people ask you to describe him they always have a lot to say. He’s a great driver, at the top of his career, he’s aggressive, he’s sarcastic, definitely has an unhealthy relationship with his skinny jeans. He’s also incredibly private, not much is known about him that he doesn’t want to be known, how he does it is a mystery.

You both value your privacy, and any post made of you before he made it to F1 was deleted the second there was a possibility he would join. You were both young, and you knew how much hate some wags get and you didn’t want that. While Max was off racing, you were back home finishing your studies, the moment you finished high school and you were both 18 you got married. A small wedding with only family and very close friends in attendance. Some of your families were against it at first, saying you’re too young, too naive but you never listened to them. Both you and Max knew what you wanted, and there was not stopping you from getting what you wanted.

You finished Uni and when Max moved to Monaco you did too, you met some of the drivers, the ones close to Max, you met some of the team that were also close to him. And you even attended a few races, but no one paid you any attention, thinking you’re just a fan.

However the last time you made it to a race was well over a year and a half ago, you gave birth to your baby boy last winter, and after a hard delivery and a long recovery, where Max stuck by your side through it all. Your boy is almost 2 and he misses Max every time he’s away from home.

”Are you sure this is the right time?” Max asked you as you got yourself ready, Karel happily playing with his toys next to Max on the bed.

“I mean we’ve been married for 8 years now, and dating for three before that.” You point out and finish the last touches to your make-up. “We have a son and I want him to grow up seeing you do what you love to do, I don’t know when you actually want to retire, so let him see you do it before it’s too late.”

You walk over to your husband and sit in front of him with a smile.

”You’re right.” Max leans over and presses a kiss to your lips, that leaves you craving for more, Max pulls back leaving you chasing after his lips. The dutch driver laughs and lets you close the gap, your lips meeting for a bit longer, before you have to pull back or things would escalate.

“Don't forget your ring.”

“Already wearing it.”

Walking in the paddock with your son on your hip and your hand in Max’s turned a few heads for sure. It was the tack of the paddock, Max has a girlfriend and a son? There’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that the boy you’re holding is anyones’s but Max, he’s a literal mini Max, with the small red bull merch and everything.

”Oh my god! Loca.” Lando said seeing you both, your son wiggles in your arms. He loves Lando who he sees a lot when you’re all in Monaco. Lando is one of the few people who knew about you for so long and he’s seen Karel mere days after he was born. “Come to uncle, Lala.” Karel leans out of your arms and easily goes to Lando’s. “I didn’t know you guys were bringing him today.”

“We weren’t 100% sure.” Max explains and you give him a look. “Okay, I wasn't 100% sure I’d want to bring him.”

”Well, I’m for one glad that you did.” Lando said entertaining your son.

”That makes the two of us.” You say smiling, as Max pulls you closer to his side.

After Max is sure you and Karel are comfortable at RedBull, he goes off to do his round of interviews and media duties. And it's just his luck that, he's on the panel today.

And it didn't take long before he was being questioned about his family.

“Question to Max, you seem happier today, does that possibly have something to do with your ring and those that came with you today?” Max chuckles, he looks at his wedding ring. On the panel today with him, Charles who knows about his family, Lewis who has no idea, Oscar who has no idea and Pierre who has a suspicion but hasn't been confirmed by Charles.

“Eh, if you're talking about this ring, yes. My son is here for the first time, he's finally old enough to come.” Max is smiling but just because his family came means he's suddenly open with the press and will spill everything.

“You have a son?” Lewis asked confused the gossip hadn't reached Mercedes yet.

“I'm not over the ring, you're married?” Pierre asked, Oscar was looking super confused at the RedBull driver, he heard Lando talking about Max and a child and wife but he thought it was the other Max not this Max.

“Karel's here?” Charles asked, smiling.

“Yeah, I have a son, he's almost 2 and I'm married.” Max said as if he didn't Just drop the biggest news in F1 at the moment.

“You knew about it?” Pierre asked his friend feeling left out, Charles looked cheapish and shrugged.

“It was a secret mate.”

After the panel the drivers waited for Max to ask him some more questions.

“When were you married?”

“Did you get married because of the kid?”

“What's his name?”

“Why did you hide them?”

”When can we see him?”

and so on and so forth, Max knew that this would cause quite a stir in the media but he had no idea the other drivers would be interested.

”Okay calm down everyone, let the man speak.” Lando, the latest person to join the circle said. He wrapped his arm around Max’s shoulder. ”Let me answer the oblivious stuff. His name’s Karel, he was born during the winter break of last year, he’s a carbon copy of Max, and yeah, I knew about everything for a few years.”

Lando looked so smug with himself for being in the know.

”And you’re married? Never saw you wearing a ring before.”

“Yeah, got married when we were 18-“

”EIGHTEEN!!” There was a gasps and repetition to the number 18.

”Mate, that’s over 8 years ago.” Pierre said with wide eyes, he’s been Max’s teammate and he was married and he had no idea.

”Yeah, we were dating for 3 years before that, and decided to just do it.” Max explains, he was itching to get back to the garage and see his family. But he had to stand there for a few more minutes to answer all their questions, which he was comfortable with anyways.

You could see a few of the drivers shaking their heads as they dispersed from the circle in disbelief. The gossip and new information was hot, it will be all they can talk about this weekend.

You were out of his driver’s room, and standing beside Max’s car talking with a mechanic as Karel was looking at his dad’s car in fascination. It’s the car he saw every week on the TV.

“Hey.” Max greeted coming in and giving you a quick kiss, he took Karel from your arms and kisses his cheek. “How’s everything?”

”Good, Karel wants to get in the car.” You inform your husband, smiling as your son nodded his head furiously.

”Dada, car.” Karel says cutely and points at his father’s car.

”You can sit baby, don’t think you’ll see anything but you can sit.” Max says and places his child into the cockpit, RedBull cameras snap pictures and take videos.

”Future RedBull champion in the making.” You tease Max and grin, Max had this adoration look on his face. “You should get in and put him on your legs so he can see.”

Max does as you say, he hands you Karel, who you shower with kisses making him giggle and push your face away. Max gets in and you hand him Karel who he places on his lap, the child now able to see out of the car.

”Here Max.” One of the mechanics hand him the steering wheel, and Max puts it in.

”Dada, drive.” Karel says and takes a hold of the steering wheel, Max helps him turn it right and left, it’s. too heavy for him to do it alone. You take out your phone and also film this moment.

If there was ever doubt about bringing Karel, just seeing them making memories and enjoying themselves proves that it’s the right thing to do. There’s no guarantee for how long Max will stay in F1, the motorsport is forever changing and you’ve always wanted Max to make these memories with your son. And if Karel continued showing interest in cars as he does now, there’s no doubt in your mind that you’ll be back at karting tracks soon enough, and replete the cycle that you went through with Max with your son.

Max looks at you and smiles, you couldn’t help but lean over and press your lips to his, in a sweet and short kiss.

”It’s good that I can kiss you whenever now.” You comment and wink at Max before you pull back.

“Lucky me.”

Maintaglist

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life

[creganslover]

I think it would be cool if you did a cregan x reader but reader has a dragon and her dragon is called the beast of winterfell or something like that and for the longest time even the people of winterfell have no idea what it means (they assume because of her family they are just referring to her) but while she’s giving birth or something the dragon hears and feels her pain and come out of hiding freaking out and finds her and like puts his snout up to the window to make sure she’s okay and it’s kinda like a crazy moment for the people of winterfell lol just a random idea I had hope you like it feel free to change any details about it

ofc! thank you for requesting, anon! i really hope you'll like it! i apologize if its not that great T^T

─── ⋆⋅ ❤︎ ⋅⋆ ───

beast of winterfell, cregan stark x targ! fem! reader

wc: 1.4k

warning/s: mentions of blood, childbirth, lmk if i missed anything!

─── ⋆⋅ ❤︎ ⋅⋆ ───

Ever since you had been arranged to Cregan Stark, the Lord of Winterfell and the Warden of the North, you knew you were about to live a completely different life as you were expected to live with him in Winterfell for the rest of your days. 

It had taken a while for you to get used to being so far from the West and your family, yet Cregan’s presence was like a breath of fresh air, albeit cold, really cold. 

The lighter clothes you used to wear back in Dragonstone now replaced with heavy furs, you could have sworn if you had listened closely you would hear your back crying in protest. 

Alas you carried yourself with grace, it helped that Cregan had understood where you had come from and he always made sure the fireplace in your shared chambers had been extra warm, even if he had to get the firewood by himself. 

One thing you had also missed in the West was being able to go on dragonback without feeling that you were about to freeze at any given moment.

Your dragon, Rhaegos or commonly known as the Red Beast, could not stand to be far from you either, even willing to visit from time to time due to his own stubbornness that reflected your own. Making himself a home far enough from Winterfell within a clearing in a forest, you think, he had been able to live and feed himself, keeping warm with his flames. 

The folks of Winterfell had not even seen a dragon before, you’d wager, and you intend to keep it that way as they would not need to worry of such a magnificent beast nestled near their home, if they had only known. 

Cregan had also known of Rhaegos, he very well knew the creature as the first ever day Cregan had seen you was you landing on your dragon onto the sands of Dragonstone, he was about to depart then, yet you made him stop in his tracks as the Red Beast had made its appearance.

And you noticed him upon your landing, the ship in the distance carrying the banner of House Stark, which you have soon learned who was going to be your betrothed. 

Rhaegos did not take kindly to strangers nearing you but you just had to see who the ship carried, if it included your soon to be husband. 

And when you hopped off your dragon and had reached him, Rhaegos was watching carefully, even crawling himself a yard behind you, though Cregan did not seem to waver, or was trying his best to keep his composure as a dragon was barely in the North and the way its eyes gleamed at him, had him gripping a little tighter on his gloves. 

To your surprise, Rhaegos had nudged its snout against your back, almost shoving you to Cregan that had sent both your cheeks running hot as he caught you in his arms.

It seemed Rhaegos wanted to play cupid at that moment as you profusely apologized to the Lord of Winterfell.

The marriage came and went, devotion had come easy with you and Cregan, no sooner than a moon after your bedding that you had noticed the changes in your body.

It only took a look for the maester to confirm it. You were with child. 

Cregan was absolutely delighted, he could not stop showering you with affection within the confines of your chambers, his big rough hands gently upon your stomach.

There were barely any signs of growth yet making you laugh. It was your first time pregnant, and of course you’ve seen and heard your mother Rhaenyra teach you a thing or two about it, yet it had always worried you as you saw how it could take a toll upon a woman’s body, like with your mother.

Cregan swore no harm will come upon you and your child as you carry it through the moons, always placing his most skilled men out your chambers if he ever was required someplace else than at Winterfell. 

And when he would return, he would not even mind the cheers of his folk, going directly straight to you, enveloping you in a careful embrace, before he would kneel to press his forehead against your swollen middle, the baby within you kicking in response.

The days had inched closer to your due, and you had felt it with the way your body had increasingly been feeling heavy, the way you waddled while you walked. 

Your scream had broken out the great keep of Winterfell as the moment had finally come when their lady was about to give birth. Your handmaidens paced around you in worry, the maester advising you on what you should do- yet it all seemed to drown out by the time it reached your ears.

Blood began to trickle down your legs as your handmaidens rush you to lay upon the bed, you were restless as your body had been covered in sweat, platinum hair matting to your face as you cried out for Cregan, the maester informing you he was well on his way. 

Your breathing came in rushed, panting as your eyes blinked back tears as you were positioned necessarily for birth. Your muscles had contracted painfully, sending you with another wail. 

Though on this day, not only your childbirth would be borne by Winterfell. 

After your long cry, an unfamiliar loud screeching could be heard in the distance, making every folk in Winterfell pause in their actions. Could it be…?

“Dragon!” A knight exclaimed as people began to panic and rush around. 

Cregan was on his way back to Winterfell speeding on his mount after having visited the Hornswood, but he was not alone. To the West of him was undoubtedly a creature he had not seen a long time, your dragon, Rhaegos. 

His screeching may as well echo throughout the North as the dragon flew itself close to Winterfell. Its intimidating and thunderous roars caused worry for Cregan’s folk as he finally managed to rush inside, dismounting off his horse and quickly telling his people to calm- that the dragon would not dare harm them, that it was yours. 

Cregan then rushed towards the great keep, where your screams and wails grew louder, tearing his own heart as he finally shoves himself in the birthing chambers. 

“Cregan!” You cried as he came into view, rushing beside you as the maester had told you to push for the nth time. You wasted no time bearing a deathly grasp upon his hand, knuckles turning white. 

The gap on the windows was then darkened by a shadow followed by a low rumble, the maidens in the room, even the maester was disturbed at the sight of a dragon’s nout, moving outside as its eyes tried to spot you. 

“Calm down, it means you no harm.” Cregan said firmly. “My wife is the priority.” He commanded, glaring daggers at those within the room. 

Your chest heaved up and down as you could feel Rhaegos’ bond clearly with you as your eyes found his slit ones through the window. “Rāpirī (Be calm) Rhaegos!” You managed to say out loud, the dragon grumbling weakly in turn as it hissed at the maester, who quickly got back to his occupation. 

With one last push, you had felt it– the pain had numbed most half of your body, making you try and chase your breath, Cregan’s gaze flickering to you and the maester, with Rhaegos present out the window, his low grumbling ever a presence to your strength. 

All your body seemed to be in a haze, unable to move your legs- or the whole of your body for that fact.

Until a cry of the babe was heard, Cregan’s heart thumping in his chest as he looked at you and the babe being wrapped in the towel.

“You did it, oh thank the Old Gods.” Cregan murmured, pressing his lips to your forehead before his pressed against yours. “It is a girl, my lord, my lady.” The maester announced as the bundle of joy was placed into your arms. 

“Our- our own little girl…” You croaked out, a grin breaking through your face as tears of joy pricked your eyes, Cregan looking at the babe wriggling and making his heart near to bursting. “She’s a beauty like you.” He murmured.

Rhaegos outside began whirring as he seemed to be feeling your joy coursing through your bond, taking himself to the skies screeching happily, making you laugh weakly. 

Cregan then nuzzled both you and the babe, with Rhaegos’ sounds echoing above. 

Your children would need not worry for a protector, when they’ve got the beast and the wolf of Winterfell by their side. 

─── ⋆⋅ ❤︎ ⋅⋆ ───

cregan tag-list: @misswynters @i-padfootblack-things

[lillybean730]

writing down comic idea at 3am >:D

[wosofutbolfan]

When Somebody Loved Me (Everything Was Beautiful)

Alexia Putellas x Reader

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

Songfic

WC: 17k. Check TW inside.

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

Hi Guys.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was raining on the day that you met her.

That was strange. For Barcelona. The rain.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe tomorrow niña. There is always tomorrow”.

Well. Turns out dads are clever.

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

“Putellas!! Get back here! Pute-...”

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

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

You didn't know what to do.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She was banned from playing.

The team lost. 

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

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

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

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

Your Alex. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Mi and y/f/n…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was weird.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was perfect.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You didn’t care. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You have chosen to showcase your best landscapes. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Weeks passed.

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

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

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

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

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

A ghost of the woman she was. 

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

Finally, Word you were alive. 

3 words in fact. “It’ll pass Alexia.”

[ladybirdswritings]

Pride & Prejudice - Coriolanus {Young} Snow x Reader

Summary: You’re birthed into a lively family in dire need of financial stability. As the eldest, you’re paraded around to be married and much to the dismay of your mother, you deny every hand offered. Yet unbeknownst to you, a man of great power and influence, Mr. Snow, is lurking in the shadows, waiting for his chance to have you. Steamy Pride & Prejudice retelling with young snow and you! Alternate universe, au!snow <3

Notes: I hope u girlies eat this up, getting scrapped otherwise </3 — as always, thank u for leaving comments and loves as it keeps me motivated!

next chapter

one

You’d much rather be at any other breathing, standing tower of gold trimmings and cracked pillars in existence.

At any building filled to the brim, simply overflowing with tiered skirts and lively grins… offered hands and gentlemen donned in fine suits, pockets suffocated by their own riches.

Yet you cannot be; for mama has ordered your presence to be most dire and mandatory. Although you did consider fleeing for the highest hilltop or feigning ill, you knew well that mama would find you or see straight through your falsehoods.

“My my, you look as though you’ve got something unsweet taped to your vicious tongue.”

You scowl at the blonde goddess most confusingly known to be your sister, and she only flips a ringlet of gold behind her poised shoulder.

“I think it to be quite clear how dreadful I find this. No need to observe aloud, sister.”

Her mischievous sapphire orbs glow with enjoyment, face pink and flushed — skin glistening under the gold lanterns flickering above.

You’ve watched happily from your seat, she’s sure to have danced with at least twenty men now.

No wonder mama has no fears or worries about Jane. She is just guaranteed to run off and be married within the upcoming season, it only makes for less of a distraction for mama— she’ll be glued to you like quill to paper.

It is not as though men do not want you. Oh, they do. Most ardently.

The trouble is only that you do not want them.

How horrible it is to be confined to four lonesome, frayed walls with nothing more than your books and your wit to keep you company. Married to a man who will most certainly be your senior, who busies himself with trivial matters and leaves you to be cold at home.

You would much rather drown yourself in the river stix than face a fate so melancholic.

You wish to be an odd thing, to run away into a cottage and spend your days parted from the people who surround you. You will read books of men made from dreams and you will find comfort in knowing that you will not be wed to a man who will only discontent you.

Of course, that would bring great shame upon your family, ruin them. So it seems you will end up a spinster or a governess. Both fates, although not as you may hope in your dreams, still offer more joy.

“Forgive me for having fun. It is not why I displease you however, perhaps if you picked your pretty head up from that book and stopped waving the hands that greet you away— you would know this. Mama has sent me. The duke, his sister and a dear friend of his have arrived here. Here! At our party, can you believe it?”

You huff out a sigh laced with annoyance, flipping to the next chapter of the dilapidated thing in your hands.

“No, I truly cannot.” You mutter, yet you cannot spare the fresh page even a glance before it is snatched from your clutched fingers.

A first edition, it shreds from its spine and erupts a gasp from both you and Jane. Mama’s cyan gaze is cold and anxious, feigning a tight smile.

That one was your favorite.

You do not lift your head, you do not notice the three towering men who look down upon your reserved oak wood bench in interest. Mama clutches the duke’s palm in an embrace of suffocation, yet you do not pay it even a little mind as you drop to your knees in your pretty dress to find the strayed page.

“My god, where are your manners — girl! Please do not pay her rudeness any attention, she gets sickly over these things. Sweetheart, up now— we can buy you another.”

Her voice is cold, devoid of any admiration. It is a lie, too. Your family cannot afford even a singular chapter of a new novel, let alone a first edition. You should be the one plagued by frustration, yet you feel as though it is you who is doing something wrong.

Even so, your eyes search the floor with great fervor, landing on a polished leather shoe which suffocates chapter twelve.

You wince, preparing all the words you can to kindly request the stranger lifts his big foot off of your paper. Yet they dissipate in the back of your throat.

The man, he bends at his knee as he frees the old thing from his sole. Your eyes lift to greet him, then.

He is a mess of blonde locks, unruly compared to that of the others with hair long enough. Theirs are tamed with ribbons, his only sits atop his head. His eyes are a cold color, one you cannot explain. They are commanding, fueled with great intensity.

Beyond all of this?

He looks most certainly miserable.

He does not wish to attend tonight, one glance proves this.

He spares you no words as he passes you the paper, eyes locked upon the contents of it. He offers you a hand of assistance, too.

You ignore it, wincing at the disgust your mother expresses.

You need no aid as you lift to your feet and dust the old thing off, he follows you — becoming a tower taller once he stands.

Jane, you are grateful now that she is still here. She laughs most uncomfortably, placing a polite hand upon your shoulder as she snatches the page away. Far more gently.

“My dear sister, may I introduce you to your grace — sir Sejanus Plinth of Newbury. Alongside him, his sister — Grace Plinth and their dearest friend, Coriolanus Snow, also of Newbury.”

You know well that you’ve just about boiled a vicious pot of scorching water, one you’ll have to face the many consequences of. A quick glance stolen toward mama proves it.

With a soft sigh, you curtsy to the men before you. A show of respect which you most certainly do not have for them. They are just as unimportant as the others, grand status or not. Including the miserable looking blonde with cold eyes.

“Lovely to meet you. This is truly a grand gathering you’ve all put together…” Sejanus offers with a smile of pearl. You peer up at him, his eyes stealing quick glances at goddess Jane.

Mama goes off on a tangent about how much she adores hosting gatherings as much as attending them — and it’s all a mere buzz in your ears.

Your eyes shift toward the sister, Grace. She’s scowling at you… how peculiar.

“Jane, forgive me if this is far too forward but — I would be most honored to be the last dance you partake in this evening.” Sejanus swallows back his nerves, wincing at the sound of his own voice. Sweet Jane doesn’t bother torturing him, she only nods a shy head.

“Oh, come Grace! I must show you how my youngest daughter performs on the grand piano!”

You feel poorly for the scowling girl who is whisked away by mama. Jane and Sejanus follow alongside them, but part as soon as the music begins.

Both of your palms come to a clasp— shifting weight on your heels as you watch Jane twirl and giggle a golden sound, so beautiful you are certain it could bring each and every single gentleman in attendance to their knees.

Well, except the miserable Mr. Snow.

Your eyes drift to him then — and you catch his gaze already locked upon your stature. He averts it hastily, staring at what looks to be the far wall after he is caught.

Does he plan to lurk here like a shadow’s phantom for the entirety of the evening?

“Do you dance, Mr. Snow?”

His jaw is a sharp — tense thing. It clenches in surprise at your voice. He doesn’t spare you a glance as he answers.

“Not if I can help it.” Is but all he offers before returning to a miserable state of silence again.

By god, to garner more than a mere word is equivalent to the act of tugging teeth loose. You purse your lips, turning your head away to find another question you could offer.

You do not bother, however.

For the first time in all your life, in all the seasons you’ve suffered — you wish to dance. Not because you find it to be fun or any more stimulating than a novel but; rather because you would be far more joyous away from him.

Beyond this, it would make mama less angered when the gathering reaches its end.

You do not offer him a word of parting before you plunge into the lively crowd. A man with blonde locks, not quite as icy as Mr. Snow’s own tousles, offers his hand.

You lose yourself in the rhythm, pretending to be that of a girl in one of your novels. Whisked away by a mysterious, dancing stranger who offers more than just a meaningless hand.

You pretend the blonde is to be a grand lover, one who will care for you beyond material needs. Beyond what is expected and a bore.

You pretend, and when the song ends — so does each and every one of your mindless fantasies.

To normality once again…

[lees-chaotic-brain]

How would jjk men react to reader being pregnant with quadruplets?

Feat. Gojo, Yuta, Inumaki, Nanami, Megumi, Itadori (all characters are aged up)

Note: I did headcanons for this request because there were so many characters I wanted to include, and it would get a little boring to write the same scenario out in a full fledged fic like seven times. However, if there are one or two that you want me to turn into proper fics lmk!! I had to do research on pregnancy for this bc it's been awhile since my high school health class

CW: pregnancy, implied thoughts of abortion ig, mentions of fear regarding labor, AFAB reader bc, yk, pregnancy, one singular swear word

Word Count: 1.2k

JJK Masterlist | Blog Navigation

Gojo

I feel like Gojo would think you were joking at first, and wouldn’t believe you until you got frustrated and he finally realized you were being for real. He would have mixed emotions. On one hand, he was excited to have a big family and a house full of laughter and love. On the other hand, he was afraid, because more babies meant more defenseless mini-people for him to protect.

He had only known that he was going to be a father of quadruplets a few minutes ago, but he already knew that it would destroy him if he ever lost one of them. That he would gladly give his life for them. And then there was the matter of you. He already knew that childbirth was difficult for women, but quadruplets?? Childbirth was something that even he couldn’t protect you from and that terrified him. 

After a serious discussion in which he made sure you were okay with the added risks and you continuously reassured him that this was what you wanted, he settled down and began imagining a future for your family. Until he realized that he would have to share your love with four little gremlins who would surely take after their clingy father. Then it suddenly seemed less appealing.

Yuta

Baby boy would be shooketh. Because he’s sorry please don’t be mad at him and oh you’re not mad at him and the two of you are having quadruplets well technically you are but he’s the dad and oh god what if he’s not good at being a dad and-

You would have to calm him down as he fell into a downward spiral. Once you had properly reassured him, and he had fully absorbed the information he was ecstatic. He has always wanted a big family, and together the two of you were making that dream come true. Cuddling up to you he would thank you for loving him and gifting him with the many kids he had always dreamed of having.

He for sure would be the type to rub your stomach and whisper sweet nothings to the growing babies in your womb, telling them how much daddy loves them and how excited he is to meet them.

He would also start baby-proofing every square inch of your house before you had even started your second trimester.

Inumaki

He would be in shock. Because he put- wait how many??? babies in you. There was no way he heard you right. There was no way that you were pregnant with quadruplets. Because, wait, he didn't sign up for this! Yeah, he wanted tons of kids, but four babies at a time was a lot. And the strain it would have on your body was concerning as well. 

After he stopped opening and closing his mouth as he gaped at you, he managed to organize his thoughts. First he wanted to make sure you even wanted that many kids because, well, it wouldn’t be easy to give birth to or take care of that many. Once you had reassured him that you were, in fact, sure that you wanted to go through with the pregnancy and that you were prepared for whatever the future held for your not-so-little family he took a moment to process his own emotions.

At first he was conflicted. Sure he was excited, but he held his own private reservations. What if something went wrong during labor? What if he wasn’t cut out to be the parent of one kid, let alone four. But as the months sped by and your stomach grew, the anticipation grew, until one day he let go of any and all trepidation and allowed himself to be optimistic.

He also bought tons of matching onesies for the whole family.

Nanami

Ever the responsible adult and caring husband, first he sat you down and had a serious discussion about the pros and cons of having quadruplets, and whether or not the risks were worth it. Deep down he was thrilled, but he wanted to make sure the two of you were on the same page and understood what continuing meant.

Once the two of you had established you were going to see this through, and it was something the two of you wanted his planning would begin. First came the research. He thoroughly educated himself on everything regarding pregnancy, learning everything he needed to do to ensure your comfort and the healthy birth of his children.

Expect a special diet plan that fulfills the needs of you and your unborn children in the healthiest way possible, essential oil massages, weekly check-ups starting your second trimester, vitamin gummies and more.

He also would begin saving up because raising four children would be expensive. Would for sure have a whole financial plan set up and college savings accounts set up for each of his children within a week of his learning.

Megumi

Honestly, he wouldn’t have super strong feelings about it. He wanted to be a dad, but he didn’t care if it was one, four, or one hundred. He just wanted to have kids with you, and beyond that as long as you were happy he was too. 

So when you told him, his only response was asking you what you thought about it. When you told him you were excited, he was excited too. He had wanted to build his own family for as long as he could remember, and you were helping him reach his dream. What more could he ask for? The only other thing that mattered to him was that his children had siblings. As a kid he had resented Tsumiki, but as an adult he couldn’t imagine the loneliness he would have experienced growing up without her. So yeah. If you were happy, and his children would have siblings so they would never have to walk through life alone, he was content.

There was nothing more he wanted in life than your love and a family with you.

Itadori

Kids!!! He had wanted a ton of kids, so this was perfect! You were happy with it, so even better! He sees it as a four-in-one deal, and is over the moon. His golden retriever personality becomes even worse when you’re pregnant. Like, this man is at your side 24/7.

Constantly following you around, looking at you with big pleading eyes as he begs to cuddle in bed with you so he can talk to your stomach.

Oh my god talking to your stomach. This man would talk to your stomach more than he talks to you. Asking what your kids want to be named. Telling your unborn babies about his day. That he loves them and can’t wait to meet them. Describes all the fun things the six of you are going to do once they’re born. Definitely tries cuddling your stomach because he ‘wants to know what it feels like to hold his children.’

Also is a little shit that constantly asks ‘are they coming yet? Why not??’

[ladykailitha]

The Rise of The Fallen Part 2

Here we are at last, the end of an era. Other than a short Christmas ficlet this is the end for our boys.

Thank you to everyone who tagged along with me for this long adventure.

Part 1

Abbadon reveals himself and the two most important people in his life. And we see a bit of the aftermath.

~

Abbadon: So before I take off the mask and let the whole world see who I am first I want to thank our manager, who the world had only known as Miss Celeste Baptiste. Robin Buckley. She is my rock and as Shane said, my platonic soulmate and twin. We might not be related but if feels like we were separated from birth.

A picture is shown of their fashion plate of a manager. Dark black bob, dark sunglasses, slinky feminine clothes. The woman that walks into frame is not that. She still has the slender frame and sharp features but she’s wearing boxy, masculine clothing. Her blond hair is a choppy bob that frames her pretty face and bright blue eyes. She grins as she sits on one of the arms of the chair and Abbadon puts one arm around her waist.

Robin Buckley: Hey guys! To all my friends and family: gotcha! As if someone as wonderful as me would ever be just some rockstar’s low level PA. Slubs!

I laugh. She winks at me and I can feel my cheeks flush.

KL: Were you their manager from the beginning?

RB: Yeah. Abbadon and I have always worked together since our first jobs. There was no doubt that I was going to be their manager.

KL: Tell us about those first couple of years.

She huffs her annoyance, not at the question but at the memory: It was pretty hard just getting into the doors of dive bars. Like really hard. I didn’t look like a manager and they didn’t look like a metal band. They looked like the dads of a metal band.

She kisses the top of Abbadon’s head.

RB: It was Abbadon who came up with the idea. At first it was just me. I’d dress up like some high powered manager maybe they would stop fielding my calls. And it worked to get them in the door, but the second they walked on stage, they’d get booed right back off again.

The band shifts uncomfortably in their seats at the memory. They all seem affected by the booing. Even Shane Kendrick who exudes sunny by nature.

RB: So I suggested they do the same. Dress up as metalheads and the metalheads will come. It was Abbadon that suggested the masks and hoods. All the members in the band have features that can’t be covered up by makeup to make them unrecognizable.

She starts counting off on her fingers.

RB: Spence’s crooked nose, Shane’s red hair and freckles. Simon’s high cheek bones and sharp jaw. And Abbadon’s hair.

I frown

KL: Is it red like Shane’s or something?

Robin and Abbadon laugh. And even Abbadon’s partner smiles widely.

Abbadon: I was famous for my hair in high school. It was even one of my nicknames. The Hair. So yeah. Hoods were the only thing that would cover it for sure all the time.

KL: Why not a wig?

Abbadon: I allergic to whatever they use for them. I’ve tried all kinds but I always end up with a rash and a bloody scalp.

I wince.

KL: That must be painful.

Abbadon: There’s something else the mask covers. I have distinctive moles on my face and while they can be covered with makeup, it’s still visible in certain lights.

RB: Like the stage lights in a stadium. You can tell there’s a bump there.

KL: So masks it was then?

Abbadon nods

Abbadon: But I never thought to cover the ones on my neck. I didn’t think that anyone would be paying attention to those.

Robin smacks his arm playfully.

RB: And we all saw how well that worked out for you.

Abbadon shrugs, clearly unrepentant.

Abbadon: I got a boyfriend out of the deal.

Then Eddie Munson, lead singer of Corroded Coffin walks into frame and sits on the other side of Abbadon on that arm of the chair.

Eddie Munson: That would be me! He waves cheerfully at the camera. I had a crush on Abbadon when we were in high school so I mapped every freckle, every mole, every line that I could see. A lot.

KL: Tell us about how you figured out they were one and the same.

He grins and Abbadon shakes his head fondly.

EM: I went to a concert of theirs with the friend everyone wants to see the reaction to this video filmed. I grilled the kid to figure out if he was in on the secret, too. But nope. He’s definitely caught on by now, though. He winked at the camera. Sweetheart, I have my own confession to make.

Abbadon looks up at him expectantly. Don’t ask me how I can tell with the mask still on. The best I can figure is that he looks like a puppy. Head tilt and all.

EM: Jeff’s known who you are for almost as long as I have.

Abbadon’s laugh is bright and clear.

Abbadon: I know, babe. He told me that first tour together. I thought you knew.

Eddie turns toward the camera slowly.

EM: Jeffrey Oliver Lawrence, I am going to murder you and no one will ever find your body.

Everyone laughs.

Eddie and Abbadon share a look and Abbadon takes a deep breath. He pulls off his mask, but his head is still down. He pushes back the hood and takes a deep shuddering breath. Both Robin and Eddie take one of his hands and gives it a squeeze. Abbadon raises his head. They give his hands another squeeze and exit frame, leaving Abbadon alone in the hot seat.

He’s a good looking man with an easy smile and yes, very distinctive moles. His hair is floppy and a warm honey brown.

Abbadon: Hey, Dustin. I know you’re about ready to murder me right now, and I can absolutely explain if you’ll let me. I’m really, really sorry I didn’t tell you. Hiding this from you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. But I know you. There is no way you would have been able to keep this to yourself. You would have been too excited.

Your two best older guy friends frontmen of their own metal band? You would be vibrating out of your skin to tell people. And you wouldn’t mean to, but someone you thought you could trust would sell me out for a tidy check and whole lot of hurt. Not just me and the rest of The Fallen, but for you too.

I know it’ll be some small consolation, but the first album is about you and your friends. I hope you can forgive me.

Abbadon chokes back tears.

Abbadon: Right. Now that the apology is out of the way. My name is Steve Harrington and I’m 33. Like Shane said, same birthday, year and all. I wasn’t always a metalhead. I only started listening to it because of Corroded Coffin. They were from Hawkins and Dustin highly recommended them to me. So I started listening to them. They were so good that I kept going back to the music store–he rolls his eyes yeah, yeah. Lame I know. But the internet! he waves his hands I wanted a person’s recommendation not some algorithm. And I got really into it.

KL: How long had you been singing?

Abbadon (SH): Since I was a kid. I learned how to play piano, sing, and dance. My mother wanted to me to be a little gentleman. Hell I even had allocation lessons.

My eyebrows shoot up.

KL: Was your mom trying to live out some Jane Austen fantasy through you?

Abbadon (SH) laughs: Something like that.

KL: I’m a little furious about the names, if I’m honest.

Abbadon (SH) throws his head back and laughs. The rest of the band joins in.

Abbadon (SH): I would like to take credit for it because it is so fucking hilarious. But no, that was all Shane.

Astraeus (SK) grins.

Astraeus (SK): Hell yeah it was. Robin hated it at first but once people started using them it just kinda made sense. And the rest is as they say is history.

Abbadon (SH) gets up and moves out of the hot seat to sit with his band.

KL: It must be so strange to be calling each other by your real names.

Asmodeus (SO): Fuck no. We’re friends outside of the band.

Abbadon (SH): I know we don’t have the decade long history of playing together before making it big the way Corroded Coffin does, but we’re solid as friends. We were all invited to Spence’s daughters’ Christening. Shane couldn’t make it because he had another family thing crop on the same weekend, but we support each other.

I am taken back at how fierce Steve Harrington is about the love his bandmates. I can see around him his band relaxes when he takes charge, like a commander of a military unit. They all look up to him, even though Shane and Steve share the same birthday, it’s clear they love Steve like an older brother.

KL: So what’s next for The Fallen?

Azrael (SP): I know fans will be disappointed to hear but we are taking a two year break. We need time for our families to get use to the fact we lied to them for the last twelve years.

Asmodeus (SO): There maybe some heavy fallout that we have to deal with and we don’t want our attention divided like that.

Astraeus (SK): Our music would suffer for it and we don’t want to do that to our fans. We love you guys.

Abbadon (SH): Trust the process. Trust us. I know that seems like a lot to ask right now. But please respect our privacy at this time.

KL: Thank you so much for joining us today. The Fallen everybody!

There is a smattering of claps from the crew and Eddie Munson and Robin Buckley whistle and cheer.

Looking over at the four men that felt they had to hide themselves to be treated with respect in the genre they loved you can see the weight of the world has lifted from their shoulders and they are happy.

*

“Why does Eddie have to record this?” Dustin whined.

Eddie laughed. “You are the self-proclaimed biggest fan of The Fallen, I’m honestly more surprised that you didn’t want to record it yourself.”

Steve bumped his shoulder into Dustin’s. “And it’s not like we’re going to stream it. If you have a bad reaction, it won’t go up on TikTok. I promise.”

Dustin narrowed his eyes. “Pinkie swear?”

Eddie and Steve both held out their pinkies. Dustin used both of his hands to shake on it and then settled in to watch the video.

Steve shifted nervously in his seat as his three best friends in the world revealed themselves to be members of a famous metal band. As they dropped hints about Abbadon’s identity.

Dustin’s face went from excitement to confusion to anger and Steve braced for the explosion.

But it never came. Dustin, for all his bluster growing up, had changed. He waited until Steve’s reveal and his apology.

Dustin’s anger vanished like mist in the morning sun as he watched TV Steve fight back tears about having to keep this secret from him.

He slowly turned to Steve. “Which songs are about me?”

Steve barked out a laugh. “There’s only one about just you. The rest are about you and your friends. The one about you is ‘Brother’. The ones about you and your friends are ‘The Heart and the Flame, ‘My Lullaby’, and ‘Kiss the Girls, Kiss the Boys’, from the third album is about you guys, too.”

Dustin frowned for a moment. “That last one was directed at Mike and Will specifically, wasn’t it?”

Steve shrugged. “It was aimed at all of you. Kissing who you want to should never have to hurt. Boys or girls. And at the time it was also partially about me being bisexual, too.”

Dustin thought for a moment and then launched himself at Steve, throwing his arms around the boy that became his surrogate older brother.

“I forgive you!” he mumbled into Steve’s shoulder.

Steve sighed in relief. He gave Eddie the thumbs up and he stopped recording.

“I almost told you so many times, Dusty,” Steve murmured. “You have to believe that.”

Dustin nodded. “I’m a little hurt at the moment but I think once the shock wears off, I’ll agree with you. But I’ll be grumpy about it.”

Steve squeezed him tight. “As is your right.”

“I still can’t believe you and Robin told us that you were gofers for the record label!” he huffed.

Steve and Eddie laughed.

“As if we would have stayed if it sucked that bad, bud,” Steve said. “We’ve always moved on and up with every job we’ve ever taken.”

“I guess I didn’t really look hard into it,” Dustin admitted. “The rest of us had all gotten these amazing jobs.”

He began counting on his fingers, “Max is a software designer and motion capture stunt skateboarder for all the Tony Hawk games. Lucas recently retired from a decade long career in the NBA. Mike and Will are New York Times best selling children authors. Ellie is a fashion designer that has had her work featured at New York fashion week. Eddie’s a rockstar, Nancy and Jonathan are an epic journalist duo. Argyle has three food trucks and a Michelin star restaurant in LA. And I work for freaking NASA, man, with my wife.”

“I’m still upset you and Ellie didn’t work out,” Eddie groused.

“She got invited out to London at the same time I got the job at NASA,” Dustin said with a wry smile. “We knew then we wanted different things.”

He huffed out a sigh and rotated on the sofa so he was facing Steve. He twisted his fingers together and bit his lip. “When Azrael talked about how isolating it felt that no one in your lives figured out that you were in one of the biggest metal bands in the country, I scoffed.” He looked down at his hands.

“Because I was so sure if I had known anyone in The Fallen I would have guessed,” Dustin continued. “Only I did know someone and I would have never guessed. I was so willing to believe that you and Robin just didn’t have the ambition to chase your own dreams. And I’m sorry.”

Steve, Robin, and Eddie all hugged him.

“Now you’ve got hella bragging rights at work now,” Robin said with a smile. “You’re friends with Corroded Coffin and The Fallen.”

Dustin lit up and started talking a mile a minute, hands waving and grinning from ear to ear.

Steve pulled out his phone and read the messages he was getting from his best friends and bandmates. There had been a couple of rough moments, like Steve knew was going to come from his own parents and maybe even a couple of their group, but they would make it just fine.

The least surprising thing to come out of the reveal was that Chrissy and Robin were dating and had for a couple of months after their trip around the world, but waited until the reveal to come out to tell people.

The most surprising thing to come out of the reveal was that Simon had plucked up the courage from somewhere to ask Vickie out on a date. She said yes.

There were hints on the horizon of another relationship forming too. And judging from Shane’s texts, once Gareth got over the shock of Abbadon being Steve, the two of them were going to be a pretty sure bet.

Nadia was the only one who really took it in stride. But that woman was unflappable. She just calmly sat Spence down to discuss the sudden invasion of their private lives and how to handle all that. Spence had admitted in the group chat that he cried in relief when she took over.

It looked as though The Fallen was going to rise from the ashes of this experience just fine. Hell, they might even get a album or two out of the deal.

Because “The Rise of The Fallen” sounded like one hell of a song title and album name, too. Their future was going to be as bright as their past. He just had a feeling.

~

Yes, Robin flirted with Karla but only to make her blush. She is faithful to her Chrissy.

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @chameleonhair @eyehartart

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @blondie1006

4- @yikes-a-bee @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten

5- @genderless-spoon @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @disrespectedgoatman @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95 @garden-of-gay

7- @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars

8- @ravenfrog @w1ll0wtr33 @child-of-cthulhu @kultiras @dreamercec

9- @machete-inventory-manager @useless-nb-bisexual @stripey82 @dotdot-wierdlife @kal-ology

10- @sadisticaltarts @urkadop @clockworkballerina

[love-minor-poltergeist]

A/N: I've only known this man for roughly a week and I want to pour milk on him and violently throw him against the wall (lovingly). While I'm not known to write for horror media, let alone for a franchise as brutal as Outlast, but I've been quite captivated by the Outlast Trials since the July 16th update. Because of course I would fixate on the hyperviolent mafioso with extreme mommy issues. _:(´ཀ`」 ∠):_

General Franco Barbi Headcanons

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

Loathe as he is to admit—  that is if he’s willing to acknowledge it— Franco and his father are far more alike than one would think. Both men share the same hair-trigger temper, a fondness for collecting artisan firearms, tastes in women… And who could forget that sailor’s mouth? 

Hell, prior to his exile, it became something of a running joke between the triggermen of the Barbi family. The minute they hear Franco and Don Barbi’s shared “FUCK”/“CAZZO”, they share a knowing look amongst themselves. Like father, like son.

Of course, they also take it as a warning to keep their heads down and quietly pray that lupara isn’t pointed their way.

His birth mother was killed long before he could even remember her. No one dared utter it aloud, but he knew why. He would’ve been downright stupid to think it was because of anything other than how he came out. Ugly. Malformed. Hell, his father certainly made it clear how he felt about his defective son whenever he got mad; and Franco’s got the scars to show it.

However, during one of Don Barbi’s infamous bouts of rage– fueled by alcohol and his ever-growing frustration over Franco’s reckless spree killings– he had let it slip that Franco resembled his late wife far more than he was comfortable with. 

Dark eyes– cold and vast like the deepest parts of the sea– regarded the crumpled form beneath him. Franco couldn’t have been more than seventeen or eighteen then. He had just gotten back from a hit. Some rat bastard from another crime family; a lowly racketeer who thought he was hot shit. At least he did until he was filled with hot lead from lupara. Only thing was— his father just wanted the intended man dead. It was a simple request. And what did his ugly shithead fuck of a son do? Franco ends up massacring the whole bar he had tracked the man down to. Staff, patrons, and a band of musicians that were unluckily set to perform that night— a whopping thirteen other people on top of the measly single target the Don wanted. And the real fucking kicker? That very bar– dinky as it was– was under Barbi family protection. And they had paid handsomely for their services. 

All hell broke loose once Franco came home. The minute he stepped foot in his father’s office, the world became a blur of violent shouting and spat expletives. The walls and furniture shook with each slam as the Don punched and kicked at the younger man. Franco had tried to fight back, getting in a few nasty hits himself, but it was clear his father easily overpowered him. In a matter of minutes, his vision and lungs grew wet with blood. Everything hurt, and all young Franco could do was fight for air.

“You had one job, boy. One. Yet I find that we lost a paying customer— one that we’re supposed to protect. Making me look like the asshole for not keeping my word.” 

The older man crouched down, yanking Franco by the little patches of hair he had. The Don was baring his teeth now, eyes boring holes into his son. 

“You’re even lucky I let you live, you miserable waste of spunk,” he pulled harder on Franco’s hair, ignoring the latter’s grunt of pain. “I could have killed you in your crib. I should have.” 

He accentuated each word with a rough yank, and a particularly pathetic pained moan from Franco only made the Don slam his head into the floor. Hot, sticky crimson coated his broad fingers, and he regarded the now weeping visage of his son with disdain; as if he had found a piece of gum stuck to his shoe. A pregnant silence fell between the two. Nothing but the faint sounds of breathing filled the air. 

Then the Don spoke once more.

“Even now, you look just like your mother. Useless, bloodied, and soft.”

Don Barbi never did talk about his first wife again after that incident. Not that Franco ever cared. He never knew her. Though, he did faintly hear from a few of his father’s older associates that he shared his mother’s eyes, or that he had the same hair as her. One man even said that had Franco been born normal, he would’ve been the spitting image of her. 

Said man was later found in the alley between a bar and sundry store. Discarded within a dumpster and body absolutely mangled. 

Once, when he was around maybe ten years old or so, his father had tried to take him to the dentist in order to get braces. Something to fix up those “broken piano keys” he had, as his father put it. Franco didn’t even last a half hour before a capo had to come pick him up because the boy went and bit the finger clean off of the poor dental assistant that tried to get him ready. 

He has some breathing problems, going off what could be heard within the trials. If he’s not yapping off, he could be heard heavily panting and straining to catch his breath. It’s nowhere near bad enough to be considered asthmatic, but Franco’s definitely not winning any marathons, that’s for sure. Not that his little baby legs would let him-

Absolutely refuses to drink anything that isn’t sweet enough to send a bear into a diabetic coma. If he doesn’t have his thermos of wolf’s milk on him, he’s dumping a whole bowl’s worth of sugar into whatever’s given to him. He doesn’t care if it's already been sweetened. He needs it sweeter.

Murkoff’s budgeting department is at their wit’s end and it is absolutely Franco’s fault. Does he care? Of course not. He deserves nice things and it’s a travesty that someone of his status is forced to live in squalor. About a week after he’s been taken to Sinyala, a special budget ends up being put aside for him. He goes over said budget every time. No, he won’t stop, either. He is a luxury that few could afford.

The first thing he demanded for his living space was the fanciest phonogram Murkoff could get and some records. He didn’t particularly like juke boxes– he thought them too flashy and that they usually played the same boring tunes. Usually if you walk by his containment unit, you'd hear the rich, dulcet tones of Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons, and the occasional Engelbert Humperdinck.

Don’t ever take him to the beach for too long. He usually forgets to put on sunscreen and ends up sunburnt at the end of the day. It’s one of the few things he doesn’t miss about Miami/Cuba. 

Small dogs hate him. His stepmom Angelina owned a few pomeranians. He and the little bastards never got along. It wasn’t all too uncommon to walk in on him telling one of them to fuck off whenever they bit at the pant leg of his suit. He’s held a vendetta against all tiny dogs ever since. 

While he may not look like it, he’s quite fond of the ocean. He enjoyed the boat rides he took to and from Cuba, and would occasionally fish if time was passing by a bit slow. Though he didn’t do it very often thanks to bastardly seagulls and pelicans trying to bully him for whatever he caught. 

Would probably own an aquarium of tropical fish if Murkoff trusted any of their test subjects with a living thing under their care. When he was younger, Franco’s father had an associate who owned a giant tank full of brightly-colored tetras, cherry barbs, and guppies. And while his dad sat through boring talks, Franco would usually watch the little things dart around in the water.

Speaking of, he’s particularly fond of ranchu goldfish. Mostly because, in his words, “they’re ugly little fuckers”.  Franco means this lovingly, of course. 

╚═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╝

[pacing-er]

I've seen ppl talking about how Cherik may get a different name if it becomes more widely known that comic Magnetos birth name was Max Eisenhardt, but am I the only person who thinks that really won't need to happen? In the comic timeline(s) where he was called Max as a child, he still chooses to be called Erik Magnus Lehnsherr in adulthood. That is a name he chose for himself, not one imposed on him, which means he wants to use that name. Given that "Max Eisenhardt" would be very dear to him since his family would have known him by that name, I see the change of name as more of a "Max died"/loss of innocence symbology. He cannot become the boy that he was before Auschwitz, it has changed him in a way he can't come back from, just like he can never get his family back. He is a different person now, so he chose a new name for himself. Not that he would hate being called Max, I just think that he would feel more disconnected from it or not want it to be used by people he dislikes or doesn't care about. It would be something very personal with a lot of baggage.

Additionally, if the Magneto: Testament comics can be seen as applicable to the rest of the Marvel canon, he chose "Erik" because it was his uncle's name. Erich Eisenhardt was someone who Max had looked up to and seen as a courageous and strong person, so an adult Erik would want to wear that name to carry on his legacy. I think that is a beautiful name choice and I don't feel it's necessary to erase it by calling him Max.

(DISCLAIMER: of course I know the whole name debate originated from inconsistencies in the early comics, and that the movie-verse erased that particular origin anyways, but I think it is a beautiful part of his characters history and should stay)

[devieuls]

ˋ Moonlight ☾

Neteyam Sully x Metkayina Albino Reader ( ONE SHOT )

Synopsis : The elders told the clans that the children of Eywa were born with unique peculiarities and abilities, sent to the clans to bring wisdom and prosperity. But when you were born, no one saw you as a blessing of the Great Mother, but as one of the demons of heaven, being despised by most of the clan just for your appearance. But when, nineteen years later, a family from the forest arrives on the island of Awa'atlu, you will finally find someone who will be able to see you beyond your outward appearance.

Warning : Fluff (at the beginning), many sweet parts; SMUT MDNI: Praising, dirty talk, overstimulation, unprotected Sex, Dom Neteyam, reader not totally submissive a little rude but loving, hickeys, multiple orgasms?, Explicit content.

Lenght : 9.3k

Notes : This was supposed to come out on June 27, my birthday, but my friends have kidnapped me these days to go out. I hope you like this one shot, I really wanted to write it because I always liked the idea of the Albino reader, so with a diversity that I could adapt to some sentences about the moon (my beloved).

NETEYAM: 20 y.o / Y/N: 19 y.o

NA'VI WORDS : OARE: Moon ; YAWNE: Beloved ; TSMUKE: Sister

· · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · ·

The elders told the clans that the sons of Eywa were born with unique peculiarities and abilities, sent to the clans to bring wisdom and prosperity. Therefore, these newborns were raised alongside the Tsahìk, so as never to lose their bond with the Great Mother.

The day your mother announced her pregnancy to the Metkayina clan was a joyful day, the clan congratulated her and blessed her maternal womb, knowing all the pitfalls she had been through and for her unfortunate infertility. Ronal was the most joyous, knowing that her sister had waited so many cycles before having you. You were a miracle, the whole clan thought that when they saw your mother, thinking that Eywa had blessed her for her infinite goodness.

Nine months later you were born in the water, because Tsahìk had a vision of your birth in the gentle waves of the ocean that surrounded the island of Awa'atlu. Unfortunately, like the sea, your mother’s labor was stormy, leading Ronal to think that she could not give birth to you.

"Sister, you’re losing a lot of blood… The only way is to save only one of you" Ronal said in tears, as he found a way to save both. "If you keep pushing, you’ll tear your body apart, ma Sorewn-" your mother stopped her before she screamed in pain. "My baby… Save.her!" She said with all her strength in her body as she squeezed her sister’s hand, looking at her displeased as the water seemed so icy around her and the sand so rough. After minutes that seemed like hours, you came to light, the warm waters welcomed your warm body that reflected the colors of the eclipse.

"Is she okay? Ronal… is my daughter okay?" These were the desperate worries of a mother who was giving her life to give it to her daughter. "She’s fine, ma tsmuke…" Ronal whispered with sadness, knowing that soon her only sister would be gone.

Your mother looked for your body, clutching it weakly as she looked at you with love "y/n… This is her name, sweet breeze… and moonlight, she’s beautiful, isn’t she…?" Sorewn died shortly after uttering, dropping her lifeless body on the sand, but holding your little body still warm, as if she wanted to protect you until her last breath.

Ronal’s screams were desperate as she took you flickering from your mother’s cold arms, allowing herself to cry on her body, knowing that her only sister would never wake up from that eternal sleep again.

The day of your birth was less joyful than the day when your mother’s pregnancy became known, even though the slight joy of knowing that the firstborn of the sister of the Tsahìk was alive and well. But the emotion and joy of the clan ceased to exist when people saw you, the white skin like pearls that were at sea, but associated with the typical complexion of the sky demons.

"She’s cursed," "a demon…", "Look at her skin." Similar murmurs struck the mourning Tsahik’s ears, who in response growled against the clan, silencing them as she continued her walk to her Mauri.

From that day on, nineteen years passed, Ronal raised you as her daughter, never stopping to talk about how much your mother loved you and how you were blessed by Eywa despite your white skin, loving you in the way Sorewn would. Your aunt often told you that you were special, that there were other people like you and it was the Great Mother herself who sent you, trying not to make you feel different from others.

Unfortunately, the sweet words of the Tsahìk didn’t help much, especially because of the children of the clan they used to tease and bully you when you were still a child, not stopping even when you grew up. "Daughter of demons", "Demon", "Cursed Blood" that’s what they told you, and slowly you began to identify yourself in the same way.

The only friends you had were Ao'Nung, Tsireya and Rotxo, the first two because they grew up together with you, while Rotxo respected Ao'Nung and your family too much to offend you, so he became attached like a brother. Ao'Nung and Rotxo often found themselves defending you from the village boys, and Tsireya did the same with the girls, even though she was younger than you.

You were often teased because of your sensitivity to the sun, caused by your albino skin, and because you could only get out after the eclipse, raising suspicions and rumors that you were really something like sky demons. For this reason you spent your days in the marui, distancing yourself from the world that seemed not to want to accept you, hiding you from evil languages and from those who just wanted to hurt you.

It was a morning like any other on the island of Awa'atlu, the two suns that blessed the beaches with their warmth, the children who rejoiced and ran to feed the Ilus, the screams of fishermen and hunters who called to bring the fish to the clan. But you didn’t participate in such activities, your task was to follow the Tsahìk and help her in everything she did, you were not the Tsakarem, but you were always told that you were special, that your connection with Eywa is stronger than any other. Therefore, just like today, your days took place inside the Marui of Ronal, while you helped her with some herbs and medicines that might have been useful.

The tranquility of the village was interrupted by some strange screams of call, and strong steps running on the sand to head to what was 'the entrance' of the clan, you heard some tribal screams and curiosity pervaded you.

"Ma parultysip, what’s going on?" asked Ronal, rising from the ground, to approach you who had looked at the door.

"Ma Tsahìk! Be careful, you are still in the first cycle of pregnancy…" yYou said, stand by the door, then walk up to Ronal and accompany her. " Foreigners… They arrived with Ikran from the sky" You didn’t finish talking that the matriarch rushed right where the foreigners had landed. You followed her both out of curiosity and to take care of her.

Once you arrived at the place, Ronal made room in the crowd that opened around her, you found Tonowari already standing to welcome the strange blue-skinned Na'vi. In the distance you noticed Tsireya, Ao'Nung and Rotxo, and you tried to understand the situation as you looked at them, Tsireya’s eyes made you realize that she was at least as unaware as you. Your eyes were immediately captured by those of one of the newly arrived boys, his eyes yellow as the suns, with some green reflection, long braided hair, a confident headshell and a body hard to miss. You also noticed the battle band wrapping around his abdomen, letting you know he was definitely a warrior. You were out of breath for a few seconds while you were studying him from afar, noticing that he also did not look away from you, intrigued by something, perhaps even enchanted. Your heart started beating faster, almost out of control. The butterflies in your stomach woke up, creating a strong tingling that spread into your body. The cheeks that were colored with a tender blush, betraying your expression.

You hid in the crowd, feeling insecure for a moment, thinking that that boy was looking at you because of the color of your skin and hair so different from others. Only to disappear because of the sun’s rays that were burning your sensitive skin, while Neteyam was looking for you with his eyes, trying to figure out where you had gone, fearing he had put you in awe.

The day passed quickly and you never saw that boy again, yet you knew that both he and his family would stay on the island, and that gave you a strange sense of comfort.

"Y/n! Y/n! You had to come with us to help the newcomers. Their children are very kind indeed and-" Tsireya said once she joined the part of the marui that she shared with you, still sticking to the main marui of the family.

"And? Let me guess, you like the younger one?" You joked, then noticed her blush and embarrassment as she hid behind her curly hair. "Oh ma Eywa… do you like the blue guy!?" You said laughing and then feeling Tsireya’s body on yours, trying to shut you up while you laughed.

"Y-y/n! Stop it! I-I" You stopped her still laughing. "C'mon, Tsireya, you’re 18, it’s normal to have a crush. Don’t think I didn’t see the way you looked at each other, his 'hey' and your chuckle. It was so obvious" She looked at you red again and then laughed with you.

"I was so obvious?" she asked, sitting next to you on the carpet. "Too obvious, ma tsmuke" replied smiling and then hearing everything she had to say about that strange family, assimilating all that information as she spoke with dreamy eyes.

"Oh, and I’ll be teaching the Sullys, the younger ones, of course… along with Rotxo and Aonung, but they don’t like the idea like I do. You should help me, those two idiots would be able to ruin everything and fight with them" You watched her take your hands.

"Oh… I-I don’t think that’s a good idea, I mean… No. I have to be with Ronal, plus-"

"You’re afraid they’ll criticize you for your skin, aren’t you?" she interrupted, understanding where your fear and insecurity were. "They don’t seem like the kind of people who would. You know, Neteyam and Lo'ak said that Kiri is a bit like you too, she is also connected to Eywa" you looked at her slightly uncertain and then heard the name of that 'Neteyam' echoing in your head with some interest.

"Neteyam?" you asked more about this person’s name than her whole sentence. You knew Lo'ak was that kind of Tsireya's crush, so if the math was right, Neteyam must have been the guy you made eye contact with.

"Yeah, he’s the biggest Sully, maybe you saw him. He was the one with the warrior belt and the purple loincloth… Long hair, tall, you know, right? The one who looked down at Ronal while she caught Lo'ak’s tail and hands" you blushed slightly and nodded, only whispering a subtle "Oh… yes, maybe I understood"

Tsireya looked at you weirdly and then looked at you surprised and smiled with emotion. "Oh! DO you like him?" She cheered, making you blush in the same way you did with her. "N-No! It was an 'Oh' to say 'Yes, I get it'. I mean, you get it. Not an 'Oh… that na'vi with hypnotic eyes', you know?" You started stammering and scrambling to escape that. "You never said 'oh' like that and then 'hypnotic eyes'. I'm screaming! You’re so clumsy now" Continued Tsireya, teasing you, then stopping when you close her mouth with your hand. "Think of Lo'ak! Girl, he rizzed you with an 'hey' and a smirk" you had taken it down playfully, just to change the speech. You continued on the same line until you fell asleep.

The next morning you woke up without Tsireya, realizing that she had definitely gone to give lessons to the newcomers, while you spent time with the Tsahìk, peeping every once in a while from the window of your aunt’s Mauri. "Y/n, focus" Ronal said, bringing your attention to her, "Yes, sorry, auntie" you whispered, and then you concentrated and watched her handle some medicines.

After a few hours you remained alone in the marui, since Ronal had to leave for commitments with Tonowari. Unfortunately, when you came to the window again, the boys were gone, so you dedicated yourself to classifying and arranging the herbs you had used for the lesson with the Tsahìk. Now that Tsireya was busy teaching the young Sullys, the lessons with Ronal had become heavier and more boring.

"Umh… is it allowed?" an strong unknown voice made you wince while you were behind, then turn around and see the guy from the day before. 'Neteyam', you remembered the name and looked at it while keeping your distance.

"Umh… yes, yes. If you were looking for the Tsahìk, she just left" Your voice was almost a whisper, because of your shyness.

"Oh, I understand. Emh, well, it’s because I needed something for superficial wounds." His voice was at least as warm as Pandora’s suns. He smiled at you slightly and you noticed the split lip leaking blood, and some scratches on his chest and bruises on his face.

"I’m just a student, but I-I could do something… sit there." You pointed to the carpet lying on the ground, and then you turned around and took some herbs to make something like a ointment. You felt his eyes on you the whole time, and you felt slightly uncomfortable, sure he had something to say about how you looked. You started mixing and grinding herbs with some liquid plant extracts, trying not to make you weigh his curious eyes. Not knowing he was admiring you enchanted.

"I am Neteyam anyway…" he began, interrupting the silence, trying to put you at ease.while his head leaned to the side to look for your look

"I know, you are the firstborn of the Toruk Makto and Neytiri of the Omatikaya clan" you whispered again with a thread of voice, without looking at him. " Your father’s title is great, all the clans know him…" continued you, hoping not to seem strange.

"Yeah, it is… What’s your name?" he asked as she approached, stopping when she noticed you drifted away slightly.

"Y/n. just y/n" You answered and then looked at him for a second, before you approached him cleaning the dried blood with a cloth, and then put the natural ointment on his wounds, feeling him wince slightly. "I'm sorry, it burns a little, it has some nettle plants inside it" Your heart began to beat more and more in your chest, noticing how his eyes did not fit even for a second from your face. He wasn’t looking at you like the other kids did, they were sincere and innocent eyes, slightly curious but definitely without malice.

"y/n? is a beautiful name, does it mean anything?" he asked curiously, lowering his voice just like you did.

"Gentle breeze and moonlight, so I've been told." You continued to whisper as you applied the ointment to his lip, keeping your eyes fixed on his lips, finding them strangely inviting.

"It’s definitely a name that suits you," he whispered, making you blush slightly before leaving.

"Why are you whispering…?" you asked to change the subject, trying to cool the fire that was happening on your pale cheeks.

"Because you do, too, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable with my tone of voice being too loud, so I turn it down" he said sincerely, as his eyes continued to explore your whole person.

"O-oh… no need to do it, i-it’s just my tone," you admitted a little embarrassed.

"Can I tell you something?" he asked nicely, always keeping his tone down, noting how you felt a little more comfortable with him.

"Umh, sure, tell me so" you wiped your dirty fingers from the ointment you just put on his torn skin.

"It’s just… well, your skin is-" you stiffened to those words, moving even further away from him as you stopped him from saying anything else.

"I know what you’re going to say… please, can you leave? I finished with the ointment, you should be better in a short time" your voice let shine a veil of fear and discomfort, making him feel a total idiot for having started talking.

"No, it’s nothing bad, i swear… your skin is beautiful, you are beautiful. I mean… ah!" He passed a hand in his hair, embarrassed to feel so clumsy right now. "I mean… you’re very beautiful, that’s…" he whispered in an even lower tone, making you blush.

You looked at Neteyam with flaming cheeks, while your hands were joined at heart level, observing him in silence. 'Does he find me… beautiful?' you asked yourself in your mind.

Your heart bounced through your chest as the boy’s kind words rang out in your incredulous ears. The insecurity that you always felt about your skin and appearance seemed to fade away for a moment, and a shy smile spread across your lips. That insecurity, however, gave way to a strange emotion: joy. A spark of happiness crossed your face for the first time, and his eyes lit up. You felt a feeling of warmth spreading through your chest, as if your heart was about to explode with gratitude. You felt seen and appreciated, and that created an intimate bond with the guy who gave you that unexpected compliment.

"Oh…" you whispered, finding no other words. Your mind began to sow doubts, making you wonder if the boy is serious or if it is just a way to joke, just as other had done in the past. The fear of being teased or misunderstood the boy’s intentions made its way into your mind, momentarily clouding the joy you felt. This Neteyam noticed it because of that light that went out with the same speed as it went on.

"Sorry… I’m just not good with words. But I think you’re really very beautiful, but I think that’s something everyone tells you, so you probably think I'm just one of many idiots… Then I go, I don’t want to make you feel any more uncomfortable than I have already done" Neteyam smiled at you shyly as he stood up to leave as you had asked him.

"N-no… they don’t tell me often." You whispered before you stopped him by taking his wrist. He turned to look you in the eye, smiling slightly as he felt your soft touch around his skin.

"Uh no? Too bad, you are the most beautiful Na'vi I have seen so far" you swallowed to his words and smiled shyly, feeling again warmth on the cheeks. You took your hand off his wrist and handed him a small jar covered with a cloth that served as a lid. "Use it before going to sleep and in the morning, it should accelerate the healing process of the wounds" He smiled noticing the shy smile you had made him and carefully took the vase from your hands.

"Thank you-" Before he could finish the sentence, Ao'Nung and Rotxo also entered the Mauri, who were in a bad way, worse than Neteyam.

"What… did you fight each other? Again?" you supposed, approaching Rotxo touching his face, slightly stroking his broken and bleeding cheekbone, passing your hand over his chest. Neteyam looked at you feeling a sense of jealousy being born in him, not yet knowing that Rotxo was just a close family friend, and that you saw him as a brother.

The boy began to talk with your cousin, being silenced immediately thanks to a nod of your hand, making him understand that they had to shut up. "Not a word. Sit there, right now." you said with a slightly more authoritative voice, making the two boys sit down. Neteyam looked at you mesmerized for a second and then took leave with a formal greeting that you reciprocated.

From that first encounter your life was in love crossed with that of Neteyam, he became your good friend and began to discover every little part of you, always interested. He knew you couldn’t stay in the sun too much and often asked you out for a walk or a swim when the eclipse was already in phase, and when he saw you during the sunny hours, he always tried to find a place in the shade for you. If you were sunburning your skin, he had learned to apply a ointment that Ronal always kept available in case the children or you needed it. He knew that your eyesight was poor because of albinism and that you were particularly sensitive to the great sources of light, and even in this case he made sure to shade you with his hands. In addition to these small things that inevitably led you to have a crush on him, the thing that unfortunately led you to spend more time together was the fact that you never back down to fight with anyone who offended you or teased you, therefore it had become a secure presence in the Tsahìk’s Marui.

During that day’s eclipse, as was increasingly the case, Neteyam looked out the window of your part of the marui. "Pss. Ma Oare, do you want to take a ride to the beach?" he asked you gently, making you wince with fright. "Ma 'teyam, one day you’ll make me die doing this" you said, blushing, making him laugh playfully. "I missed you, today I didn’t see you at all" his tragic voice made you laugh innocently, while hiding your smile with your fingers.

"But if you came to pick up Tsireya here this morning, and I greeted you." You replied, still laughing, while Neteyam made sweet eyes at you, not knowing that behind these same eyes there was a deep enchantment for you.

"It’s not the same, come on. Just an hour, then I promise to let you go." He gave you his hand, inviting you to follow him.

"You always say that and then I come home at dawn or when the stars almost finish their cycle with the moons." He laughed at your words nodding, knowing it was true.

"I promise, if you want to go home, I’ll bring you back myself. Just for today, please, ma Oare." You looked him in the eye for a few seconds, before smiling gently and nodding.

"Just because I want to collect new shells, not for you." To your words he smiled, content to be just a walking companion for you.

He waited for you outside the marui, giving you time to change and settle, knowing how insecure you were about your appearance. What you didn’t know was that he always found you charming and perfect, no matter what your hair or clothes were like that day, his eyes in love would always be enchanted by you. When you came down from your home, he was stunned, watching you without speaking, taking some deep breaths before blushing slightly and scratching his neck.

"What’s wrong? Are you okay?" you asked Neteyam, laughing, as you approached him, holding the small bag you used when you went to collect objects or herbs.

Then you start walking towards the beach, while you pick up some shells and beads that were on the shore or in the still warm sand. Neteyam undertook to look for the most beautiful objects to give to you, knowing that your eyesight was not very good and perhaps you would not notice them, inspecting the most perfect shells and the brightest and most colorful beads. He usually hated doing these things, categorically avoiding accompanying his beloved sister Tuk to collect items for jewelry, following her only when she was about to cry or when his sense of elder brother was turned on and worried about the safety of little Tuktirey.

With you was different, he was content to help you and follow you, really trying to find only the best and then give it to you, because he loved to see your shy smile when you saw the small objects he brought you.

Neteyam remained silent, picking up some shells behind you, watching you from time to time, and then finding you both sitting exhausted on wet sand. You soaked your feet in water as you squinted your eyes and bent your head back to watch the sky greet the end of the eclipse, taking long deep breaths, not noticing Neteyam’s eyes on you.

In his eyes, one could perceive a deep admiration. Observe your features with a mixture of awe and respect, while you look up at the stars, reflecting their own light on your skin. He saw your inner and outer beauty, silently loving everything you did; recording in his mind every detail, even the smallest, making it the main object of his attention, as if he wanted to imprint it in his memory. If only you had looked at him, you would have understood how much love he wanted to give you, if only you had understood that his attentions were not only in friendship, the way he took care of you and protected you, all because he had a deep interest in you.

There was also a touch of desire in his eyes, and he was slightly ashamed of that, because he saw you as a pure being. His eyes moved on you with a slight intensity, as if he wanted to discover every aspect of you, even the most hidden, where you hid your desires. His looks lingered on your lips while you were breathing, your eyes turned to the sea or the stars, or any part of you that fascinated him. It was a kind desire, born from the desire to know and approach a person like you that makes his heart beat. He cursed himself when his thoughts were lost in thinking about how nice it would be to have you, to feel your warm skin shaped by his fingers, your whimpers, whiny breaths, and your lips that seemed ever more soft and inviting.

However, the boy made an effort to hide his emotions, keeping a discreet and respectful look at you, because you deserved to be respected. And when your eyes met his, it might seem like he was just looking at randomly, with no particular interest, but underneath that mask was a whirlwind of feelings that kept him awake at night.

"Your father is from one of those stars, isn’t he?" you asked, pointing at some stars that shone less than others. Neteyam’s hand met yours and moved it to a blue star, slightly blurry.

"There, my father comes from there. It’s called earth, it’s a planet like Jupiter, not a star, ma oare." He said, smiling softly, while his hand remained wrapped towards yours, to show you the exact spot of that planet. You looked away from him to the point he was pointing with your hand.

"Earth… what a strange name" you whispered, slightly laughing, observing the strange planet. " Blue? Does that mean it’s full of water, 'Teyam?"

"My father says that once upon a time there were great forests, like those of the Omatikaya clan, but the people of the earth destroyed everything, letting the land die and be covered with water. It is now filled with large iron structures above sea level" he replied, not looking away from your face, noting your slightly glassy eyes.

"Once upon a time? Why would those people do that to their Mother? Eywa would cry if she knew that one of her sisters was treated this way." Your voice was bitter and you tried not to cry at the thought of constructions that replaced the beautiful forests and went to ruin marine life in that way.

Neteyam looked at you with a soft smile, you were so beautiful when you became emotional about things like that, they showed him even more how beautiful and pure your soul was. "Ma oare, don’t think about it. Unfortunately it’s another culture, they didn’t have the same connection that we have with Eywa. For that matter, they all spoke different languages and often fought each other. There is no peace in their soul, because they never approached their Great Mother" You leaned on his shoulder, nodding as he gently stroked your white hair.

"I don’t even want to imagine all that pain… it’s good that your father found peace between us" you whispered, only to feel the little shiver that ran through Neteyam’s skin when you leaned on him.

"Don’t imagine it, think that you live in a place where the Great Mother sees us and protects us…and that you are one of her favorite" he said, as he wrapped an arm around your body, sighing with relief in silence, realizing that you didn’t mind his touch.

Your eyes suddenly stared at him with a fascinating curiosity, as if they wanted to discover every detail of his being. The look was tender, intense and deep, despite being shy and lascivious. All the sun you couldn't take for obvious reasons, he imprisoned it and brought it to you, warming your heart and all your body, cheering up even your darkest days. Despite the great crush on him, you hid your feelings, keeping your eyes discreet and delicate, trying not to reveal too much your true feelings for fear of being misunderstood or rejected even by the only person who understood you so deeply. Whenever your gaze fell on him, you did so with an intense desire to make him understand how special he is to you, hoping to be reciprocated.

Unwittingly you were both waiting for each other, hoping that one of you would come forward first, sharing the same fear. But Neteyam’s heart was beginning to weigh more, after all those months of repressing every single feeling outside of friendship, convinced that you were destined to Rotxo.

"Y/n… May I ask you something?" Neteyam asked suddenly, drawing your attention. You nodded kindly, waiting for his question. "I’ve been here for months, and all the young Na'vi have mated with their mates, I was wondering when you would do it with…Rotxo" An innocent laugh ran from your lips, making your nose curl, while Neteyam watched you not understanding the reason for your laugh.

"Oh, ma Eywa… what makes you think I’ll mate with Rotxo?" you asked with tears in your eyes, caused by loud laughter.

"Well… I-I mean, I’ve seen you guys together all the time, during the meetings at the bonfire he is always near you, plus he brings you food and follows you around… Spending time in the marui where you spend your time" he replied embarrassed as he looked away.

"Yes, because his mother was my mother’s best friend, we grew up together. He is a brother to me, he does what Ao'Nung also does, he takes care of me but we are not paired. For Eywa's sake" Your voice was still amused, not knowing that in the same tone you brought the hope he needed. "Rotxo have a crush on Kiri, don’t you see him looking at her or buzzing around her? It just seemed so obvious. I’m not paired with anyone, my skin is cursed, it scares. The clan thinks I’m descended from one of the sky demons." You whispered as your tone went from amused to sad. You leaned against him again, to avoid his gaze. "I am not a good match for anyone, besides with all my problems inherent in my sensitivity to the sun, people increase rumors about my birth. My mother died in childbirth because of me, while my father ran away immediately after seeing me for the first time." You sighed sadly and then put on a fake smile when you noticed Neteyam’s eyes sorry for you. "Don’t look at me like that. The tsahìk says that I am descended from Eywa herself, so I will give my life to her, no matter if I am not paired. It’s a good thing, I’ll be a woman free from any restraint," you tried to cheer him up, despite your eyes pointing down with a little sadness...?

Neteyam laid a finger under your chin, gently lifting your face, bringing your eyes together "Y/n, listen to me… You are beautiful, full of light both inside and out. Your skin is not cursed, don't think it even for a moment. It's shining just like you, isn’t there one thing about you that might be vaguely similar to that of the sky demons. Ma Eywa… but have you seen yourself? You’re unique, radiant, just perfect. Only a fool would not want to mate with you, they're blind because you are dressed in stars, under your skin the moon lives, believe me, ma oare. You are pure light" Your eyes were enchanted and chained to his, unable to speak. "They should be grateful that Eywa blessed them by sending one of her stars to walk among us. Why can’t you see how damn beautiful you are? You’re so intoxicated with those fake words you can’t even see… Why can’t you see how I fall apart when you look at me with those eyes? Don’t you feel my heart losing beats every time you smile or laugh? Don’t you understand how you can mesmerize me with every single thing you do? Ma Eywa, I would give anything even what I don’t have, just to have you… Can’t you see how much I’m in love with you…?" His loving gaze was a mix of sweetness, desire, adoration and frustration, a subtle invitation to discover and reciprocate those feelings that had come out without him wanting it. Didn’t realize he’d just confessed.

You had spent days and nights fantasizing about possibilities, dreaming about the moment when he would finally find the courage to open up, or when you would. And now, that long-awaited moment had come. Your heart pounded as you listened to the words coming out of the lips of the Na'vi you liked.

A myriad of emotions poured into you like an overwhelming wave. Initially, the surprise took over, as the confidence of the boy had exceeded all expectations, noticing only after the fact that he was not done it on purpose. Then, like a fire that lights up slowly, the euphoria spread into your being. You could not help but smile, feeling an indescribable joy pervade you. Finally, the confirmation that Neteyam had feelings for you, that they weren’t just dreams for you, that your feelings were reciprocated, was a tangible reality now. That uncertainty that tormented you had been dispelled, leaving room for an unprecedented feeling of happiness.

"Neteyam…" you whispered without a voice, and then you saw his jaw stretched out, because he felt like an idiot for saying that.

"Y/n. I-" his voice was full of insecurities, but you could silence him by pressing your lips on his. When your lips touched, a shiver of emotion went through both of you. The feeling was electric, intense and extraordinarily sweet. Before you completely surrender to the kiss, forgetting all that was surrounding you at that moment. Your hands, uncertain before, intertwined gently, seeking support and confirmation of the authenticity of that moment. As your bodies drew closer, they could hear each other’s heartbeats in tune with their own. The fingers of your free hand lay timidly on his neck, while his around your waist. His tail intertwined with yours, wrapping it gently.

Time seemed to suspend, and every other worry or doubt vanished into the irresistible and desperate kiss. The lips moved with grace and passion, needing to be consumed, exploring the unknown and revealing an attraction that had always burned beneath the surface of 'friendship'.

"I waited so long for this…" you whispered, once detached from the kiss, still feeling Neteyam’s warm arm around your body. You looked into each other’s eyes, smiling with dignity, knowing that from that moment on you would walk together, hand in hand, towards a future they had only dared to dream of in their own little.

"I thought you weren’t interested…" You two said at the same time, and then looked at yourself with a mix of shock and disbelief. " I was sending you signals" "I was so obvious!" you said together again, laughing at the synchronized timing.

"Signs? You did not send me signals, and if you did, they were confused, ma Oare," said Neteyam, stroking your hair and moving a lock of hair behind your ear.

"Me? Mixed signals? You weren’t obvious at all. I thought it was just affection, just like with Tsireya, ma 'Teyam." You whispered shyly, before looking down and feeling his finger under your chin again that made you raise your head.

"Y/n, really? Why do you think I took so much care of you? I’ve liked you since day one, ever since I saw you in the crowd, emanating that beautiful light that represents you" He said, looking at you gently, touching your noses. "And all those compliments… Do all the things you asked me to, to accompany you everywhere, I was making you understand that I was choosing you" You blushed, curling your nose.

"Why didn’t you tell me before?" he laughed softly at your question.

"I thought you were paired with Rotxo, and I was afraid I wasn’t to your taste. It would have been enough just to be your friend, if it had been so. But the fact that you belittle yourself and say you’ll never find a partner makes my blood boil again. Because I am here, waiting for you to see me…" his hand slipped on the back of your neck and approached you again to him. "…that you choose me" he whispered on your lips, as his eyes peered at you.

"I-I’ve already chosen you… and I was hoping you’d choose me" you said, whispering, loving that he didn’t use the same tone he used with others with you. Remembering you hated loud noises because of hearing sensitivity.

"I see you, ma Oare," he said, stroking the back of your head. "I see you, ma 'Teeyam" you replied gently. Your eyes stuck on his and then you join again in a kiss.

This time it was more passionate, more carnal. His fingers dug into your skin, feeling your warmth and appropriating your soft flesh as he pulled you over his legs. Shudder at the direct contact with his skin, placing your hands on his neck, clinging to him like a life saver in the middle of the ocean. Neteyam’s tail, though slimmer than yours, wrapped yours with impressive ease, locking it against the sand, making you squeak into his mouth.

Your hands went down his chest, colliding with his sculpted body just as the waves were crashing into the banks around you. You pushed your tongue into his mouth, feeling the need to feel more, to get more out of him. He hoarsely panted inside your mouth, making you smile as you collided your pelvis with his, crawling with little innocence your body on him.

"Ma Eywa… If you keep this up, I don’t know if I can control myself, ma Yawne," he said in an exasperated voice when the kiss stopped.

"I don’t want you to control yourself, 'Teyam… I want to feel you" you bent over his ear to whisper those words, making him more excited than he thought. The way he had imagined this scenario was slightly different, thinking that you were chaste, pure and innocent, but now you were revealing yourself quite differently. A hidden part of you that only he would ever see, and that turned him on.

Neteyam turned his face towards you, again meeting your eyes with curiosity. He bit his lip when he noticed your eyes full of desire. "Hmhm, not here… It’s not the right place, ma yawne." He said first to drop his gaze on your lips and then down to your collarbones, passing his tongue on his lip.

"I want you now, 'Teyam… so much" Your words were needy and eager, you whined before approaching his neck, leaving some kisses and hickeys on the boy’s sensitive skin, making him grunt for pleasure.

Neteyam shivered when you broke away from him, enjoying the sensation of your saliva on his neck. Your pelvis collided again with his, swinging back and forth over his covered intimacy, feeling already so wet and in need of him. "Ma yawne…" he sighed frustrated as his head bent backwards.

The boy’s hands ended up behind his body, supporting his body thanks to the support on the sand, unbalancing himself backwards and contracting his muscles. Your hand landed on his chest, arched your back to press your chest against the boy’s. "Don’t you want me?" You whispered as your lips began a path down his chest, causing him chills. You were tempting him, and he knew it, but he was trying to resist you because he wanted to take you someplace more private, and gently proceed with the act. But it seemed so complicated to him to resist you, while you warmed his cock so needy of him and laid your warm lips all over his body "I need you so much, now" you whispered before passing your tongue over the beginning of his abs. Your hips continued to rub against his, making him feel your needy intimacy and leaving wet spots on his loincloth, not helping him to repress the erection that was being created between his legs.

"Shit! ma yawne…" His hoarse, frustrated voice made you smile maliciously. Your hand fell to the height of his loincloth, starting to play with the top, teasing his skin.

"Please~" Your voice and your movements were damning him, but the way your eyes looked at him now, those were enough to make him feel stiff beneath you.

Neteyam approached you, taking you gently from your neck and then turning your head so that it spoke to your ear.

"Do you know how to do that, baby?" his desperate and eager voice made you shudder as you squinted. " No…" you whispered before biting your lip.

At that moment you felt Neteyam’s other hand resting on your loincloth, casually moving it to the side, rubbing your warm fingers on your pulsating and needy intimacy, feeling already wet for him. " Oh, you’re already so wet for me? what a good girl" He teased you. Your hands grabbed behind him, feeling the first chills creeping up your back, a heat blazing over your lower abdomen and the desperate need to feel something more. You started riding his fingers clumsily, panting for pleasure, carrying your forehead on his shoulder. "Hmhm… that’s right, move your hips more slowly, ma yawne. I am here for you" His voice clashes with your neck, feeling you are even more needy for him, still following the advice he gave you.

Neteyam after a few minutes, took his fingers out of your intimacy, savoring your juice with pleasure.

"You are so sweet even between your legs" You blushed at his compliment, then feel the boy’s hands open your legs and letting them spread over him. One of his hands accompanied you as you sat on his ready-made cock, the red tip and the side vein pulsing with desire. "Slowly…yes, so it’s perfect, baby…oh shit." he said as you came down with a mind-blowing ease on his cock. You only had to stop a couple of times before you took it all, feeling already so full and tired on him, his cock was throbbing inside you, sending electric shocks up your soft and sensitive inner walls.

You whimped over his cock, holding you firmly on his shoulders as your fingernails stuck into his flesh. He admired you, he felt so good inside you, wet and hot while some internal spasms squeezed his cock making him moan with pleasure. His pupils dilated when he noticed your red face and how you looked like a mess right away: your eyes closed but so relaxed because of the pleasure of the new presence, your half-open mouth gasping and trying to welcome as much air as possible, panting so as to hit Neteyam’s ears too careful. It was his definition of heaven, seeing you so fragile and needy of him, it only excited him more.

"You needed me, right? Now ride, ma sa'nutsyìp" His voice contained some mocking tones, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to move right away, but at the same time he was warm and flirty. "I-I can’t…" you sighed, trying to move on his cock, feeling already too much pleasure for small movements. Neteyam’s hands wrapped around your hips, showing you how to ride his cock, enjoying every second of your twitching and whining due to the movements. You didn’t understand if you were feeling him on your stomach or it was just your impression, but you knew that some tears of pleasure turned your sweet face.

Neteyam’s tongue took a few salty drops from your eyes, moaning with satisfaction. Your soft thighs felt so heavy and tired as you rolled over his hot dick, it was hitting the right spots so well. Neteyam’s hands stopped helping you with the motionless, remaining only to guide you from time to time.

Your moans mingled with the sea breeze, the noise of your bodies colliding were muffled by the waves that seemed to get louder and louder, while the faint night light illuminated only slightly your bodies, making the bioluminescent freckles shine in the dark. You felt Neteyam’s soft lips mark your body, listening to your choking moans and whining as your hips clashed vehemently against his cock, trying to get as much pleasure from that warmth that seemed to flare up with eyes pop of skin. You started to tighten his cock with your walls once you felt more confident, making him moan with pleasure and making his grip on your hips tighter.

"Keep it up… you’re doing so well, ma yawne" his voice was broken with pleasure, it excited you to hear him praise you like this, you felt so well above him, with his hands clasping your body, while your nails scratched and pulled the skin of his body. Your legs started shaking, suddenly feeling all your weight, but you couldn’t stop looking for pleasure.

Neteyam put his hands behind your back, making you lie on the sand, with the water that you wet your hair, at that moment he had to get out of your now red pussy and more and more eager. "You were so good, let me take care of you now" he whispered, leaning over your ear, keeping your legs open before grinding his erection between your folds, entering only with the tip, making you whine and pant, eager to feel his presence again. "How much do you want me?" You bit your lip, hearing his words almost growling at you, just feeling more excited. "So much… please" you meowed in heat, eyes still full of tears. Neteyam smiled and then put his weight on his knees, sliding his strong hands along the line of your thighs spread apart to your torso, causing small electric shocks all over your body. One hand stood around your neck, caressing your sensitive skin and pressing lightly, while the other stood around your jaw, pushing his thumb between your lips.

You took his finger between your lips, started sucking and licking it, making him smile as you looked at him with eyes clouded with lust, gently mumbling before it entered you with a single push. Your breath missed to feel its entire length come back in a single blow, arching your back upwards, while a soft groan came out of your throat, and some tears of pleasure came out of your eyes that rolled backwards right after.

He began to grind inside you with a heartbreaking slowness, as your legs tried to close for the too much pleasure it was giving you. "Keep your beautiful legs open for me, baby" Neteyam growled softly as he watched his face reddened and beamed with your fragile body around him.

Your vagina began to tighten and suck Neteyam’s dick, as if to encourage him to move and stop torturing you like this. The rapidity with which he stuck your hands over your head when she saw you were going to touch your clitoris was amazing. You missed his hand around your neck, but getting your hands locked over your head while he forced you to keep your legs open was another form of excitement. "Good girl" he said sensually, as he began to speed up the thrusts, hitting where you felt most needed, grunting when your walls welcomed him particularly well.

When he realized where your g-spot was, he started hammering continuously at that point as his tail let yours loose just to start tickling and stimulating your clitoris as you wished. Your little desperate screams and the way you moaned his name, crying again as an outlet for all the pleasure that accumulated in you.

The freckles in Neteyam’s chest made you bite your lip with frustration, wanting to touch every inch of his body, exciting you at every contraction of his chest or abdomen. You manage to slightly scratch his hands, until he twisted your fingers, gently tightening the grip, continuing the thrusts until you both reach the coveted orgasm. He poured into you with a hoarse and deep groan, catching in his mouth your orgasm, eating your lips with a passionate kiss. He left his grip on your hands and laid his own on the sides of your body, on the wet sand. Your hands scratched his back, dragging your fingers up to his shoulders, then latched onto his braids to find comfort after orgasm.

Your ogasm was still dripping on his dick, mixing with his hot cum, while he continued to sink and grind inside you, feeling as your already too sensitive walls welcomed him and warmed his dick even more. Your moaning and whining did nothing but excite Neteyam even more, who took you from hips and brought you back above him, letting your legs rest on the sides of his pelvis. The boy’s hands explored with adoration every inch of your body, helping you ride him again and give you the pleasure you wanted after orgasm, while one of his hands found place in your hair. He squeezed your grip and pulled them back slightly, just to get you off his lips, as a line of saliva joined you, his wet kisses fell down to your neck, where he immediately began to brand every clean inch of your skin again. "You look so beautiful with my marks on, ma oare"

You squinted, moving on his still-pounding dick. "Oh, my good girl" he whispered raucously, while his free hand went to caress your back, passing your fingertips all along your spine, making you shiver "You have no idea what you’re doing to me…" You didn’t understand why, but those words turned you on, and he knew you needed them, especially because you showed this pleasure by holding his dick.

Your breaths got heavier as your fluids lubed up for your hops, feeling better and better at rolling your hips over him as Neteyam moaned and growled because of the excessive pleasure you were giving yourself. You came to the point of cumming again, and again you didn’t move away from his cock, leaving it comfortably inside you as you sat on his chest.

You breathed hard on his chest, your face was still red and you let yourself be pampered by the arms of Neteyam and the delicacy in which he touched your hair or your overstimulated body. "You were so good, ma y/n" he whispered, accompanying his words to the sound of the sea waves. "Now you’re mine…" he said, leaving a sweet kiss on your head.

You closed your eyes, taking long breaths as you listened to his heartbeat against your ear, smiling softly. Your fingers were drawing on her chest, wanting to be stuck in that moment forever.

"Are you okay? Is everything okay, y/n?" he said, looking down at you, taking your hand and kissing your back, making you look up.

"Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine. That was great… I was just thinking," you stopped and bit your lip. " What were you thinking?" he asked nicely.

"Umh… well, now we are, I mean, emh.." you blushed as you searched for the right words and hid on his chest.

"Mate, I’m yours y/n. If you want me, I’m yours." His hand caressed your back, as he smiled kindly at you.

"M-mated? Are you serious? I mean, I like the idea, but aren’t you afraid that people will judge you? or-" he stopped you with a frustrated sigh.

"Hmhm,but we will make Tsaheylu in a more special, more romantic and perfect way, you deserve only the best. To be honest? I’m more afraid of losing you, no matter what they say about me. I’d like to hold you like this every day, make you smile like a child, make you feel loved like you deserve, protect you from everyone and take care of the splendor you are. And Eywa will forgive me, but I would like to hear forever those sweet sounds you make when I’m inside you. Hearing you call my name, seeing your most lustful side, feeling your hands digging into my skin and then seeing the results of our love on our skin. Let me be the person who will stand beside you for eternity," Neteyam said, caressing your body, letting you feel his warmth as you shuddered under his gentle touch.

"What if… what if our children come out cursed like me? They’ll go through what I’ve been through, don’t you mind having children different from others?" you asked with fear.

"If Eywa blesses us with beautiful children who look like you, I will love them the same, if not more. I would love our children regardless of their color, and teach them to love their particularities. One day they will find a person who, like me, has fallen in love with their inner and outer beauty" he said with confidence, making you laugh softly. "Seriously, they wouldn’t be cursed. You are not cursed, y/n, you are pure light and I am so honored to have you only for me" Your eyes met again.

"I love you, ma y/n. With all my heart and soul, and I'll make you love yourself, I promise you."

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Notes II:

I hope you enjoyed this one shot. I wanted to write it for a long time now and I’m glad I finally managed to write it. <3

TAG LIST (?): @riatesullironalite

-Mel

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　

[brynn-lear]

I LOVEEEE DOG GALLIGAR I NEED MORE

please read the rules and regulations next time anon cuz I'll ignore asks that don't follow format. Anyways I'm a big gallagher simp so I can't ignore a humble request. here's a quick sketch of farmer!reader and (yandere utc) dog!gallagher + extra brainrots cooked up 1 AM cuz I just finished a school output

Domestic Fluff/Crack:

You rarely buy chocolate after taking Gallagher in. Not because you're worried that the canine might randomly eat some and get a "lethal" dose— but because he simply looks disgruntled whenever you take a bite. He went on quite a long tangent about how it doesn't taste that great and you would much rather not hear it a second time.

In your first week together, you might've gone overboard and bought every dog care product you could think off. Gallagher heartily laughed when he saw you bought one of every shampoo— and then his heart dropped when you pulled out a pet razor next in the shopping bag. Needless to say, his silence saved his skin. Or well, in this case, fur.

You often pondered over the ethics of having a half-human in your home. It's not that you treat him poorly or bar him from opportunities elsewhere, but you remind him from time to time that he can leave the farm if he wants to. In which, he would either a) put a hand on your shoulder and earnestly decline or b) joke about how he's going to bite you if you ask again.

Speaking of jokes, he never tells you about his past— which was a decision you respected. However, it's become an inside joke for the two of you to make up his backstory and how you met. When your traveler friend Boothill once came to visit, you both told him that Gallagher was actually an ex-police dog who decided he's tired of snitching where the drugs were when "it's always hidden in cushions anyways". When the local innkeeper Siobhan asked where did he come from, he said he was once a bartender— and you made a convincing follow-up that it was the reason behind his distaste for SoulGlad. He even shocked everyone when he had the skills to back that lie up. You swear that every time, the story and people's reactions become more and more priceless.

Yandere:

But not everyone is elusive of his true nature.

That's why he hates whenever your neighbor "Sunday" visits.

Gallagher doesn't want it to happen, but that man seems to always discern the facade he's putting on. He doesn't like it at all. He always had to hold back a sharp stare and a growl whenever he's around. But that man. That hawk...

Why does he always cling to you like a pest?

He knows- he knows you're friends with him and that Robin girl since childhood- but shouldn't those numerous interactions suffice? Why does HE keep stealing your time together? That Sunday is a hybrid himself— he should know that someone has already marked this household territory.

Still, that bird perches on your porch, greeting you with a smile that you'll reciprocate. But the cunning glimpses he sends Gallagher indicates that they equally find the other person bothersome.

"What're you doing here?" Gallagher scoffed. "Don't you have a Family to go back to?"

Sunday smiled politely, though with how his hands are always hidden from the dog's view, he can only guess that it's clenched in a tight fist.

"And you don't?"

"(Y/n) is my Family."

"Before they were yours, they were mine."

That caught Gallagher's attention.

... Isn't that technically the truth? Even without papers, isn't the bond you, Robin, and that fiend share essentially a strong familial bond? He had only heard snippets in town and from yourself, but you three had known each other almost since birth.

So... What does that make him?

A pet?

A hound?

A friend?

A partner?

Or a mere passing memory?

Despite these thoughts, he steeled his resolve and shook his head, subconsciously holding his neck. There's no collar. Nothing that physically binds him to you. And, for reasons he didn't quite placed at the time, he hated the sensation of freedom.

He hated being free.

He hated being detached from you.

"With what to prove, huh?" Gallagher snarled. "Leave. They're asleep. Don't bother them today— or ever again."

He volunteered to patrol for the next nights to hide his insomnia. Gallagher did not understand where most these emotions stemmed from. Why would he wish to be shackled when he just got himself out or a cage? You were kind enough to supply him with basic necessities and allow him to do whatever he wants after work is done— so why this emptiness?

But when he came back home at dawn after unlocking the door with the spare key you gave him— he got his answer.

He felt his feet drag him to your door. Before he could even process what was happening, Gallagher was seated at a nearby chair, tenderly caressing your face.

This was the answer he was looking for. The raison d'etre. All resolved under three words:

"You... I want you."

And for a while, that was enough.

[skufdaddyswansea]

I’m genuinely curious what you would do if you were in Curly’s shoes for the week leading up to the accident. This isn’t a malicious question, I’m just obsessing over his inaction because genuinely considering the circumstances, what could Curly have done to prevent the tragedy? They’re a few months in of a year long expedition— too late to turn back, too early to try and make it to the finish line— and your estranged best friend has done something unforgivable. There’s no temp jail on the ship either. You’re all being fired after this. There’s no way for Anya to get any sort of pregnancy care or an abortion procedure on the ship, and she may well give birth during the trip. It’s like… genuinely, what do you do?

It's hard to say when you're on the outside looking in. When you're looking at someone else failing to do something, and knowing the consequences, it's easy to say "Well, I would have done this differently." But obviously I'm not actually under the same pressure, with a clock ticking over my head or anything, yknow? So all I can say is what I hope I would do.

Ideally, I'd like to think I'd strip Jimmy of his rank. No access to the cockpit, to be accompanied at all times (or at least as much is reasonable. But then I don't know how successfully you can rope Swansea and Daisuke into going along with that.) I can't say how that would turn out for the long term, 8 months is a long time. Especially with everything else going on. So plenty of time for someone to slip up somewhere.

I'd also tell Anya she was welcome to sleep in medical room since it can lock. If I'm being honest she might even be able to convince me to give her the gun under the right circumstances, but I don't really think that's a good thing, that could just as easily become a disaster.

As for the pregnancy that's... much more difficult. There really isn't anything Curly could have realistically done about that by the time he found out. Especially because Anya herself is the nurse. Swansea could potentially have the experience to give her support there but tbh I get the feeling he wasn't particularly involved in that process with his kids either. (...Does Curly have kids?? This is making me realize we don't really know what his family life is like. I get the feeling he's a bachelor though, it probably would have come up if he had a family to worry about. Anyway.) I guess the only thing to do would be to make sure to actually check in on her and give what ever support is possible.

And again, who knows if any of that would have worked out for the better, or if I'd be able to stick to it. No matter what you do it's going to be a bad time.

I guess in the truly ideal situation he'd have spotted the red flags in Jimmy's behaviour and done something about it long before it reached that point, but there's no way he could have known how bad things were going to get that far in advance.

So I get what you mean, I don't envy his position at all lol. Thinking about this did make me realize that I think the way I've been framing my Curly analysis has been a little overly judgemental. I just kind of assumed most people went into the game with the idea that Curly was totally innocent like I did, and then over-corrected to make a point. I still stand by my overall interpretation, but I probably should have been a little more balanced. After all, one of Mouthwashing's strengths is being able to put you in the shoes of someone who does awful things, and showing that they're still just a human with flaws, while not glossing over the ramifications of their actions.

[weirdsht]

Disillusioned 1 . Horrible Intuition - Cale/Reader

notes: I'll try to update this once a week

tags: mild cursing

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are open and welcome

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Navigation Masterlist prev . next

Kim Rok Soo’s knowledge about the new world he is in was all from the novel titled ‘Birth of a Hero’. That and whatever he had read in his study at the Henituse castle.

So when those reddish-brown eyes of his landed on an unknown figure that looked important, he was confused. Good thing Eric Wheelsman has his back, aware that his dongsaeng is not up to date in whatever’s going on in the capital.

“I’m not sure if you’ve heard of them but that’s _____ Perduellio, known as Roan Kingdom's Medicus[1], and they are a northeasterner too. They have been adopted by the Perduellio family who is aligned with the Gyerre Duchy.”

The person in question was busy running around healing whoever they could. They were wearing a white robe that reminded Cale of Ancient Greece or Egypt[2]. However, this one looks more luxurious as unnecessary details have been added such as gold linings, sash, beads, and crystals.

Despite all those details what caught Cale Henituse's attention was not their clothing. Rather, the number of guards they have following them.

“It is said that they have a weak body so they have guards everywhere. The story was that the Perduellio couple encountered _____ on the streets when they were 4 years old and immediately felt a connection that’s why they were adopted. Then 5 years later, they manifested a healing ability that seems to be a blessing from the Sun God. Oh, they can also perform small light tricks. In fact, I think they were supposed to showcase some of it today.”

Midway through Eric’s words Cale had stopped paying attention. Instead, he observes the adopted Perduellio. Eric might say that the guards are there for _____’s safety, but to the redhead, it looks as though they are guarding a criminal.

‘Oh well it’s not like I’ll meet them anytime so not my problem’

…Cale spoke too soon.

After the plaza incident, Crown Prince Alberu requested for that very same person to be Cale’s healer. It was to strengthen that image of the crown providing the young master of the Henituse County with the best as he recovered. 

While Cale understands and agrees with the intention, he has a hunch that this decision will smack him in the back later.

“Don’t worry young master, I know all information about young master _____ and have deemed them safe! Actually, the second child of the Perduellio family is said to be something akin to an unofficial maiden of the Sun God. The only reason it’s unofficial is because they are not officially affiliated with the Sun God Church as the Perduellio’s said their health would not be able to handle it.”

Cale, who is now relaxed and lying down on a bed meant for foreign officials, became a bit interested in this fact. Even though the Roan Kingdom has no official religion, families would still consider it a great honour if one of their relatives were deemed a saint or a holy maiden.

“The young master also doesn’t have to worry about political battles. Even though the Perduellios support the third prince, young master _____ is known for not taking any political sides. This is especially true when it comes to helping those in need. It is also why the young master is famous even with the common people.”

What Hans said brought some relief to Cale’s mind. He already has enough on his plate and he doesn’t want to add to it by joining a political strife. But even if he did he’s sure he could make the crown prince act as his shield. 

Hans finishes his report by saying that Cale is to be healed 2 times before the King gathers everyone and makes a proclamation. Each session will last up to 30 minutes only. This was because the crown prince insisted that no guard shall enter Cale’s room while _____ is healing him. The limited time is the Perduellio County’s compromise as they reasoned they don’t want _____ to become sick.

“Humans are odd, why are they healing other people when they are sick? Well, you weak human also save people when you are weak yourself…”

Cale pays no attention to the black dragon’s ramblings in his head as he observes _____ who has come to heal him. 

“That’s odd, I thought the guards were for that human’s safety. Why do they look more relaxed now that those guards are gone?”

He can’t hear anything. Cale can’t hear anything. Blah. Blah. Blah.

He doesn’t need to know any more unnecessary details that might potentially hinder his slacker life. He has already heard too much about the crown prince, no need to find out secrets about this healer that weren’t even mentioned in the book.

However, he can’t deny that the guards are acting odd. They are too strict with the time, and instead of it looking like they are worried. To Cale, it looks as if Roan's Medicus is a prisoner who’s granted limited visiting time.

During the two sessions everyone, Cale and the children averaging 7 years old, could tell that the healer knew that Cale was fine and didn’t need to be healed. This is more prominent by how the only thing they seem to be doing is removing Cale’s stomachache from eating while lying down and replenishing his energy.

Speaking of replenishing his energy.

The Vitality of the Heart works wonders when it comes to keeping Cale in tip-top condition 24/7. However, _____ makes him feel more refreshed. Every time the healer replenishes his energy he feels as though he has taken a particularly good bath. As if he was soaking in freshwater where the temperature was just right. 

Weird considering that their power is supposed to be from the Sun God.

“Human this is weird! That human seems to be using a new power, but don’t worry this great and mighty being can tell that it isn’t dangerous!”

Maybe if Cale tries really hard enough then he will not hear unnecessary comments that can jeopardise his slacker life…

“This is our last session correct?”

“Yes, uhm as you already know young master Cale, this will be the last time I get to officially check on you. You seem to be fine now but try to rest if you can. I heard that you’re going sightseeing in the Ubarr territory, I hope the sea can help you relax.”

Their soft and gentle voice along with tempting words about resting, slacking off in Cale’s vocabulary, sounded like music to the young man’s ears. Unfortunately, his itinerary in the Ubarr territory doesn’t line up with the doctor’s prescription.

“Really weird… Now that I pay more attention to it, they kinda smell like you human…”

But first, Cale is going to pretend to be deaf for his sanity…

Also, smell? Again? Just what does he smell like? First, it was the crown prince, then it was this baby dragon. Why does everyone have questions regarding smell?

In any case, it’s not like they’ll meet again right?

Wrong again! 

Cale was unfortunate enough to encounter the healer again while they were in the Dubori territory of the Caro Kingdom. Poor Cale was planning to pretend he didn’t see anything. But since his luck seemed negative, they made eye contact as soon as he thought of his great plan.

Well, it’s only right to properly greet his healer back in the capital right?

“I didn’t expect to see you here young master _____ much less without guards.”

“Ah no young master Cale, I still have them. They are just currently changing shifts so I have a few minutes to myself.”

A few minutes to themself… Perduellio’s adopted child said in their usual soft, gentle, and almost inaudible voice that Cale wouldn’t have caught it if they weren’t in close proximity. Cale had known since back at the capital how soft-spoken _____ was but didn’t expect that it would be this difficult to hear them.

However, he still caught and heard those words.

Words that again, sound as though there’s more to _____ than being the precious adopted child of the Perduellio’s family.

“However young master Cale, you look as though you are going beyond the territory walls. Please be careful as I’ve read about a phenomenon occasionally happening there.”

“What could that be?”

“I’ve read in an ancient text that dead mana rises there sometimes, but no one knows when it happens…”

_____ suddenly stopped speaking as they noticed a few things:

Their guards are coming over, and;

Tasha caught their eye

“Oh seems like my guards are here. Also, I would like to apologise as I didn’t realise…”

The usual prim and proper _____ is now rushing to get back to their guards making Cale unable to hear the last bit of their sentence. 

Good thing the invisible black dragon did.

“Human! That weird human knows that Tasha is a Dark Elf! While they were bowing to you I heard them say ‘I would like to say sorry as I didn’t realize you have a Dark Elf with you’.”

What now? Cale couldn’t comprehend how _____, whose supposed power was only healing and light magic tricks could know. So he asked Tasha if any nobles knew about her.

“Me as a Dark Elf? No way young master, that’s like asking for a death sentence. However, I am a bit close to Perduellio’s blessed child. Even though they are blessed by the Sun God, their healing powers don't have any purification in them.”

Safe to assume that _____ has known about Tasha for quite a while now but hasn’t said anything.

Cale can feel an additional headache coming. He has a hunch that this would be far from the last time he deals with that healer.

And wouldn’t you know…

Not even a day later Cale encounters _____ again. This time it’s in the most unlikely place you’ll see a child of the Sun God would be. 

The City of the Dark Elves.

Or the City of Life as they named it.

It was a peaceful morning, their stay in the City of Life was extended because of the dead mana rising. Despite that, Cale didn’t mind as he planned to take this chance to sightsee and talk to the necromancer. 

“Young master Cale, young master _____ is now in our healing ward. I don’t know what happened to them but they seem to be in bad shape. I figured I’d let you know as they were your healer previously. I have also sent a message to the crown prince.”

…Who would have thought the first thing Cale gets to sightsee in this city of life is this world’s version of a hospital.

‘Ah damn it, why is my intuition always right?!’

[1] Medicus is the Latin term for healer that stemmed from Medeor that means to heal or cure

[2] my main vision was Claude de Alger Obelia's clothes minus the chest window lol

[staytinyville]

OUTLAW (31)

ATEEZ poly!ot8 x Reader

Cowboy AU / Wild West

Series Masterlist

Warning: none (There will be no masterlist in the next chapter. Read bottom note for more info)

A/N BETA READ (@mariana-mmtz).

You felt odd watching yourself in the mirror. You could remember putting on your mother’s wedding dress as a child and giggling to yourself about your dream husband. You had always thought you would find someone perfect to spend the rest of your life with. However, getting into your teens, you found yourself disliking the boys around you more than not. 

You had watched your classmates get married and start their own families, while you stayed to work in the hotel. You didn’t regret that part of your life. The regret was for not allowing yourself to find more things outside your own family. But now you have the boys in front of you, holding their hands out for you to take and lead you towards where you deserve to be. 

“I never thought I would see the day you would get to wear this dress.” You turned around, facing your mother who was smiling brightly, eyes glassy. 

“Did you have no hope for me to get married?” You laughed, feeling your breath get caught in your throat. 

You knew where this entire thing was heading, but that still didn’t make it any less emotional. You were going to leave your childhood home and follow your path–alone. 

“I thought (S/N) would get married before you.” She laughed. “But that's not the case here.” She pressed her lips together, looking down to the floor. “(Y/N), are you sure this is what you want? I know you're only doing this because of us sending you away, but we won't do that anymore-” She told you.

“Mom, I want to do this.” You stopped her. “More than anything. If this is where I have to go, then I'm more than happy to take it.” 

She might have not known what it was you were feeling over the whole ordeal, but she could tell this was where you had your mind set to. And when you had your thoughts in order and knew what you were going to, you were going to see it through. She had been the one who gave birth to you and held you in her womb. She was going to make sure you had everything you wanted.

“Let's get going then.” She took your hands, pulling you along to walk out the house. 

(S/N) was beaming at the door, holding onto a parasol. Her shoulders raised as she tried her hardest not to cry. You could feel your eyes start to sting, but you tried not to let it get to you. You took the parasol, picking up your skirts to walk out the front door. 

Your brother was helping your littlest one fix his shoes while your father watched over them. When they heard you all step out, they quickly turned. Your dad sucked in a breath, as you came out into the sunlight. 

“Dad.” You bowed your head at him. 

“(Y/N), you look just as beautiful as your mother had when we got married.” You watched as tears welled up in his eyes. 

“Thank you.” You whispered out. 

“I'm sorry.” He cried, sobbing as he pulled you into a hug. “I'm-I'm so sorry I said those things to you. Please forgive me. I can't allow you to leave thinking I meant those horrible things.” His grip tightened as his tears began to stain the dress. 

You patted him on the back, hugging him as well.” I know.” You spoke, pushing him back lightly. “Even if I am leaving, you're still my dad and I will always love you. You gave me everything I could've asked for.”

With everyone drying off their tears, you were all led to the wagon. Your family made their way towards the city hall, where you would sign the marriage certificate in front of the judge. Your hands become sweaty inside your lace gloves, fingers clenching and unclenching in fists. 

Your throat suddenly became dry the moment you saw a group of people waiting outside the city hall. They were laughing loudly, shoving at Yeosang who stood in the middle of them all. A smile quickly found itself on your face, tears building up in your eyes once more, when you took in how handsome they all looked in their nice suits. 

Your father helped you down from the wagon, holding onto your hand. As you dropped onto the ground the boys all stopped to stare at you. You turned around to find why they had all gone quiet, blushing when you realized they had their attention on you. 

With a deep breath, you walked up to them. They, too, began to blush, which prompted them to tease one another. Their laughs brought joy to your very being, which made you giddy. You looked over at Yeosang who gave you a soft smile. 

“You look stunning.” He told you. You giggled to hide your blush. 

“I've only known you for a few months, but I know you're a nice boy.” Your father came up behind you, patting Yeosang on the back. “Please take care of my, (Y/N).”

“With my life.” Yeosang answered, keeping his eyes on you. 

You took a glance at the others, catching sight of the same smile they all shared. You knew they were all thinking the same thing. It was obvious how much this meant to all of them, even if you were technically only marrying Yeosang. 

You noticed how your parents looked at the seven other boys oddly, but didn’t question it as they noticed how Yeosang was speaking with them. It was clear that they had known each other. Your parents walked in first, followed by your siblings. 

“You look absolutely gorgeous.” Wooyoung grinned, as he passed you. 

“Wish it was me.” Seonghwa teased, giving your chin a flick.

“Good luck.” Yunho laughed, patting your head. 

“Yeosang isn’t the worst of us.” Jongho rolled his eyes, following behind Yunho.

“I’ve never been this close to other people in a long while.” Mingi fidgeted with the clothes you had given both him and Hongjoong to blend in. 

“You look dashing.” San patted Mingi, pushing him into the building. 

“This is going to be the rest of your life. It’s not too late to walk out.” Hongjoong had his hands inside his pockets. “We won’t make you.”

You turned as Yeosang walked up next to you, taking your hand in his. The others were watching from the door, waiting for the rest of you. Your lips slowly grew as you looked over all of them. 

“I think I’m good with that.” You gave Yeosang a squeeze of his hand. 

The ceremony itself wasn’t anything overly extravagant. The town Judge, Thomas Quiad, reverend and handed you two a feathered pen to sign the certificate. Your hand was shaking, but you managed to get a legible signature down. Yeosang was no better than you. 

As he pulled up from the table, he turned back to you. You wanted to laugh at the smile he had. It was official.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife.” Quaid gave you a smile. “You may kiss the bride.”

Your eyes went wide, which prompted Yeosang to laugh out loud. But he softly leaned down, giving you a simple kiss. Things were much different this time around. You had an audience, which made you shy. Even if you had already kissed half of them, you were still getting used to it all. 

As Yeosang pulled back, the others began to cheer loudly. You blushed deeply again, laughing. Yeosang chuckled, holding up your intertwined hands. The both of you began to walk towards everyone, the group making their way outside to allow room for others. 

“How about you all come to dinner with us?” Your mother smiled, looking at all the boys. “We'd love to meet all of Yeosang's-”

“Brothers.” You told her. “They are brothers.”

She looked at you with raised eyebrows but nodded anyway. “Of course.” Your mother bowed her head. 

The boys looked at one another bashfully, shaking their head at the idea of a meal cooked by someone else that wasn’t them. So that was where you found them all sitting around your family table. They had to bring in other chairs seeing as there was only 6 at the table and 8 of them, but they made it work. 

They were so polite, complimenting your parents on what they had done. Your mother blushed with how they kept telling her she had made amazing food. Wooyoung and Seonghwa even asked for the recipe. Your father laughed along with them as well as they expressed their thoughts on something around the house. 

Things felt so right with how everything was going. 

“I didn’t know you were friends with the officers.” Your father spoke to Yeosang.

“Yes, Seonghwa and I became good friends with them while working in the hotel.” He answered. 

“So, how did you all meet? If you don’t mind me asking.” Your father asked, turning to the other boys. 

“Not at all.” Hongjoong answered.  

You turned to him as well, listening in to what he had to say. You had already known some of their backstory, but it wasn’t enough to say you knew them. It might seem stupid to get involved with them when you didn’t know everything, but that’s how you made friends. Someone doesn’t start with knowing everything. 

“We met when we were teens. We all have had our troubles, but we came together because we all shared a love for music.” Hongjoong explained. 

“Music?” Your mother spoke up. “I would have never guessed.”

“We don’t exactly look like we would have studied it. Do we?” Yunho got a laugh from your family. 

“No offense.” Your father added. 

“None taken.” Hongjoong waved him off. “It's just something we all look towards for inspiration and motivation to keep going.”

“Do you all live together?” Your mother looked between all of them. 

“Yes, we have a home in Aurora, but we are traveling in the meantime.” Wooyoung grinned, bouncing your brother in his lap. “We met (Y/N) and decided to stay for a bit longer.”

“Yeosang met (Y/N).” San quickly spoke up. 

“He forced us to stay.” Seonghwa laughed. 

“Oh, so you will be leaving again?” You looked over to your parents, seeing their worried expression on you. 

You hadn’t thought about that aspect. At least not to where they were going to take you to their actual home in Aurora. You thought you were just going to be exploring or the likes. Even causing some trouble here and there. But to actually live with them in the place they have shared since they were teens?

“Ah, that’s up to Yeosang.” Hongjoong gave the man a look. 

“I have all my family in Aurora.” Yeosang spoke up. “I don’t want to take your daughter from you, but I would like for her to meet them one day.”

“Of course!” Your mother nodded her head. “I’m sure any parent would like to meet the person their child is marrying.”

You silently thought to yourself about meeting Yeosang’s parents. It seemed as though he had left his family on bad terms from what he told you a while back. You didn’t want to assume you would be meeting them at one point–maybe he had told your family that for them to not worry about where they would be taking you.

Looking over at the rest of the boys, you began to wonder what their family was like. None of them spoke about their parents or even siblings, so sometimes you wondered if they even had them. You figured they did with how well-mannered they were. Someone had to teach them. 

But you figured with how much they spent together, their family was each other. There was no need to be born from the same person, all they needed was the love they had for one another. You began to smile as you thought about the rest of your life with them. You wanted to have what they did.  And hopefully you can now. 

Series Masterlist

UPDATE. Due to the nature of the next chapter there will be no taglist. Scheduled Update will be November 2 at 6:00 PM (CST)

@thefrog3223 , @iarayara , @0rangemilk , @explorewithd , @detectivedoodle , @bangtanxberm , @a1i33a , @loveforred , @drunken-deitence , @0325tiny , @the-ghostest-with-the-mostest , @atinyreads , @atinytinaa , @lexiigom , @smilingtokki , @mismatchfluffysocks , @brain-empty-only-draken , @sousydive , @alex-tinyyy , @h3arteyes4mingi , @onedumbho3 , @popcatx0 , @blue1amory , @mommahwa1117 , @sunnyhokyu , @cloudieclair , @araknoid , @starjoongi1117 , @chel-awingcherry , @puppyminnnie ,

[anthurak]

Everything we Assume about Team STRQ (It's Everything)

So when it comes to theorizing about Ruby, Yang and their parents in Volume 10 and beyond, I feel like not enough people appreciate just how LITTLE we actually know or can be truly sure of regarding the backstory of Team STRQ or what was really going on during Ruby’s and Yang’s childhoods.

Simply because for much of the show, our primary source on such things was YANG, someone who couldn’t have been much older than FIVE when a lot of the important shit was going down and only seems to have gotten much of her information from her father and uncle after the fact.

In a show with a now LONG history of adults lying to or otherwise withholding important information from their children/students/charges.

And before anyone tries to claim that ‘Tai and Qrow wouldn’t hide important things from Yang and Ruby!’, let’s not forget that Yang didn’t find out that RAVEN was her birth-mother until after Summer ‘died’. Note also that Yang specifically states to Blake that she ‘learned why (Tai kinda shut down)’, not ‘Dad/Uncle Qrow told me’. Or the fact that Yang spent over ten years searching for any information on her mother, believing that she had cut herself out of her family completely, only for it to turn out that Qrow has been in on-and-off contact with his sister this whole time and even has a pretty good idea where she is, and was content to NEVER tell Yang ANY of this until Yang pressed him directly on it in Volume 3.

So basically EVERYTHING we’ve been assuming about Summer, Tai, Raven, Qrow and their dynamics and what they were doing 15+ years ago based on Yang’s conversation with Blake in Burning the Candle? Yeah I’d say we need to be calling just about ALL of that into question.

ESPECIALLY after Ruby’s tree vision gave us our first actual look back into Team STRQ’s past.

To give just ONE example: After Yang’s talk with Blake in Volume 2, telling her that Raven ‘left Yang with Tai just after she was born’, we all assumed that Raven disappeared right after Yang was born, vanishing into the night never to be seen or heard from again.

Now both we and Yang have known for a while now that the second part of this is patently untrue; that Raven was not only in occasional contact with Qrow all this time, but that she was even keeping an eye on Yang in bird-form.

But now Ruby’s tree vision has not only shown that Summer was apparently in even closer contact with Raven prior to her ‘death’, but even calls into question Raven ditching her team right after Yang was born as we have so long believed:

Not only does Raven show the kind of concern for Yang and even Ruby (“You’re just going to leave them?”) that you might not expect from a woman who just walked out on her family without a word, but when Summer retorts that “You’re one to talk,” Raven replies with; “You’re better at that life. Better than I was.”

Really think about that statement for a moment. Raven is insinuating that she has the experience to know that Summer is ‘better than her’, implying that she actually TRIED to settle down into ‘that life’ with her teammates. Given that she and Summer are specifically talking about Yang and Ruby, this could very well be indicating that Raven DIDN’T actually leave right after giving birth to Yang, but instead stuck around for long enough to actually TRY to be a mother to Yang. And that at least part of her reason for leaving was that Raven felt she wasn’t fit to be a mother. Or at least that Summer would be better for Yang (and Ruby) than her.

Meaning that at this point, everything we first assumed back in Volume 2 about Raven leaving Yang as soon as she was born has been either MASSIVELY called into question or disproven entirely.

So with that in mind, what else was Yang wrong about in this scene?

Or perhaps a shorter answer; what was she even RIGHT about?

Like when Yang stated “Summer was the first love (Tai) lost,” we first assumed Raven and Summer were both in serious, committed relationships with Tai, either one after the other with Summer and Tai getting together after Raven left, or all three were in a full-blown polycule.

But now in hindsight, just how well does that assumption really track?

We can at least assume from reading between the lines of the Warrior in the Woods short that Tai did indeed love both Raven and Summer. Yet let’s also remember that in that very story, while the boy (who is a clear stand-in for Tai) loves the titular Warrior, it is never made clear whether the warrior actually loved him back, or how she cares for him. And what is made clear is that the boy’s love for the warrior is ultimately a love that is not or cannot be returned by her.

So by that token, what if neither Summer OR Raven ‘loved’ Tai in the same way he loved either of them?

In all her appearances, Raven barely ever speaks of Tai, and the times she does indicate she doesn’t seem to think much of him. Indeed, we’ve yet to actually see ANY of Raven and Tai together. Which all begs the question of how Raven and Tai were together in the first place. Well, what if they weren’t together? What if Yang was an unplanned pregnancy? The unexpected result of what was supposed to be some drunken, one-night-stand? Which would certainly cast Raven’s decision that she wasn’t fit to be a mother and to leave the family in a particularly interesting light.

Then we have our one scene of Summer with Tai, which I’ve always found to be curiously lacking in overt romantic gestures. There’s no kiss, no ‘I love you’ or even any kind of flirting. Sure, there is that hug, but as I’ve noted in previous posts, RWBY has used that kind of close embrace just as, if not more often as a gesture of platonic or familial affection. Never mind the fact that Summer clearly didn’t trust Tai to tell him what she was REALLY doing that night. Summer and Tai are certainly quite close, I’m not arguing that. I’d even agree that Summer did ‘love’ Tai. But did she love him romantically? At this point, I’d call that rather ambiguous best.

So we’re left with a Raven who’s made it unclear if she ever cared that much for Tai, and a Summer who’s left it a bit ambiguous how she may have cared for Tai. Which if nothing else, doesn’t seem to line up very well with the assumption we got from Yang’s recounting.

Instead, I can’t help but think the image we’ve gotten and long believed about Summer’s, Raven’s and Tai’s relationships has been based far more on Tai’s nostalgia and grief-driven biases (and likely some petty resentment), and Ruby’s and Yang’s assumptions BASED on those. Let’s not forget that Yang almost certainly learned that ‘Summer wasn’t the first love he lost’ from Tai. And sure, maybe Qrow knows that Tai is looking a bit too hard through rose-tinted glasses, but maybe he’s decided to just let Tai have this, and more importantly is afraid to risk any conflict with the only teammate he really has LEFT.

This is what I mean when I say that much of the fandom is assuming FAR too much based on information we learned in the early days of the show. When we’ve seen so much of what our heroines believed in those early days either called into question or disproven entirely. Combined with a show that has made judicious use of ‘unreliable narrators’ and parents/teachers/leaders/adults with a bad habit of hiding important information from their kids ‘for their own good’, even when it turns out to not do them any actual good.

So to come back to that question: What else have Ruby and Yang been wrong about?

Or again, what have they even been RIGHT about?

This is why I think we may actually see a big reveal like ‘Raven is Ruby’s real dad’. With things like the building information of what really happened to Summer Rose, the growing implications hiding in the margins of just how big of a dysfunctional fuck-up parent Tai really was and especially lines like “Who knows why they kept the secrets they did,” and “Maybe we didn’t have the full picture…”, I’m feeling more and more confident that we are headed towards a major confrontation between our heroines and their parents wherein a WHOLE LOT is finally brought to light for Ruby and Yang.

Ever since Volume 3 ripped the status quo to pieces (along with Penny) and burned it to ashes along with Beacon (and Pyrrha), RWBY has been making reveal after reveal that things our heroines/the audience believed, assumed or were told at the start and early days of the show were WRONG.

So I’d say it’s only natural to think that the SAME will happen to those things that Ruby and Yang long believed about their parents.

[im-only-here-for-the-fandom]

Baby Lost, Baby Found

so first time posting on tumblr, i got inspired by the idea of danny phantom being jason todds father from the story apartment 31c by @faeriekit

its going to be a bit long so,

I headcanon that ghosts can asexually reproduce but it takes some time to make sure that the baby is stable than if there was two ectoplasmic donors so its not commonly done or well known . so when vlad tries to clone danny he doesn’t know that he’s actually growing a lab baby and in the test tube while its forming the baby splits, becoming two babies, one more ghostly (ellie) the other more human ( jason ).

Danny feeling a strange tug at his core urging him to find something, something very important to him and he has to find no matter what, searches for weeks before he finds ellie and jason before vlad ages them up and he falls in love instantly. he looks at his beautiful daughter and son, cradles them carefully and takes them home olny telling jazz, sam, and tucker about their true origins, his parents lecture him about ‘how irresponsible he was for bringing two children into the word’ and ‘how hard it is to raise them’ and ‘how much personal time you have to give up to take care of them’ despite them not noticing that he had disappeared for weeks or that they spent all day in thier lab only coming out for food and bathroom breaks or to put a sample in the fridge because the basement fridge was full {they still haven’t noticed he’s died} . the babyies needed a steady intake of his ectoplasm or pure ectoplasm to stabilize so took them to school with him, not trusting his parents inventions to not accidentally shoot at his kids but thankfully the ghost have calmed down with their attacks ever since he got the kids only going after him after school and during holidays and toning down thier destructive acts.

During the summer holiday vlad invites the fenton family to a cruise ship no doubt trying to enact one of his stupid schemes with jazz unfortunately (or fortunately) unable to join because she was joining a charity for helping less fortunate kids as a volunteer so that she could add it to her resume also because she’s just a really good person and wants to help defintley not to get out of the holidy cruise with val of course not . During one of the cruses resocking pit stops he has to change ellie’s diaper because he’s a goid dad, so he leaves jason with his parents reluctantly after the insisted that he would be perfectly safe with them, jason having a dormant core barley exhibits any ghostly traits while ellie having an active core regularly floats, so his parents were less liely to think jason was a ghost tgan ellie, not knowing that as soon as he left the box ghost came to cause mischief, his parents immediately entering ghost hunter mode forgetting about baby jason.

Enter Sheila also on the cruise running a fake pregnancy scam on multiple people, getting desprate when few men fall for it but needing more proof from her, she decides to steal baby jason who was conveniently unattended to in the chaos happening and leaves before the cruise before the ship departs. She successfully registers the baby as hers saying that she gave birth to him on a cruise thats why she has no previous medical records and naming him jason based on the custom onsie he’s wearing that had in bold Baby Jason written on the chest and starts her scam once again. This time she’s more successful in her scam getting large amounts of money from different men, her having blue eyes, the baby having blue eyes, most people having black hair made it much easier, but now the baby was getting older and its harder to scam people with a larger baby so she doesn’t want him anymore so she hands him over to the only man stupid enough to believe that was truly his baby, Willis Todd, she dumps him in gotham and leaves.

Back at the cruise ship danny finishes changing ellie only to come out to the aftermath of the box ghost and search’s for his parents so that he could get his son back only to discover that his parents have once again neglected another child, their grandchild, in favor of their ghost hunting ways. danny feels devestated his baby boy is gone and the ship had already sailed a long way out from their last stop, he should have never trusted his parents, he didn’t care that they neglected him, but thier neglect now cost him his son. he leaves ellie with jazz once they reach home and follows the tugging in his core once again trying to locate his son, but this time it’s harder it took him weeks to find his kids the first time and that was when they were stationary, now sheila keeps moving meaning the direction of the tugging keeps changing and it throws him off the right track, until she reaches gotham and the tugging suddenly STOPS, danny is floating in the middle of nowhere when his connection with his baby just disappears without a warning. and danny is just terrified, he doesn’t know what has happened to his baby.

Jason is in gotham now, which is a ectoplasm deadzone, despite it being heavily covered in death energy. any time ectoplasm is formed its immediately sucked away by those who have recently died, barely being able to take enough to pass to the afterlife, and with the amount dieing in gotham the amount of ectoplasm is barely able to sustain jasons baby core. he has stronger senses and a better immune system from his ghost half but other than sharper canine teeth he doesn’t develop other ghostly traits over the years growing up, if he able to seemingly disappear in the shadows and move as silent as a ghost, it’s attributed to gotham strangeness.

jason is now 15 and dies waking up briefly in ghost zone only for the ectoplasm to kick start his core and kicks him back into his body six months after his death, back in to gotham the ectoplasm deadzone now unable to support his active core leaving him catatonic for talia to find and dunk in the lazarus pit. he spends three years in with the league of assassins before returning to gotham mad with pit rage and the need for revenge against the joker.

danny, now the ghost king , has never given up searching for his missing, despite not being able to locate him his bond reassuring him his son was alive, having moved out with his daughter and sister when she turned eighteen and cut off all communication with his parents. he’s in a meeting in the ghost zone when he feels his bond with his son flare up strongly only for it to disappear from the ghost zone not a minute later, leaveing him no time to search for him, but the bond is there, if barely, but it disappears again when jason is dumped in the lazurus pit, his signature corrupted from how it was when he was young. danny’s core aches from the sadness he’s feeling, the bond he has with his son is seemingly gone, he doesn’t know what to do now.

A year passes and jason is now nineteen a year after he came back to gotham, having reconciled with his family. but now the justice league is facing a world ending supernatural threat and they need someone or something powerful enough to face it, so who else other than the benevolent and kind ghost king.

constantine has the main league members do the ritual with him batman, superman, wonder woman, flash, green lantern, because the requires a lot of power. so they chant his titles, The Benevolent and Kind, The Great One, The Gate and The Keeper, The Guiding Star, The High King Of Infinite Realms, and a portal starts forming and slowly danny emerges in full royal garb, white hair swaying whisply in an invisible breeze, eyes a glowing green galaxy, crown and ring on full display. Danny opens his mouth to speak only to close it when he feels a weak, sputtering bond from someone standing at the back of the room, he cranes his head searching for the orogin of this bond and spots a young man, then it clicks, thats his son, that’s jason. he can’t believe his eyes, he finally found his baby, after nineteen years, he sinks to the floor and sobs.

Jason had always felt a strange feeling if longing that never seemed to go away, at first he thought it was from a lack of care from his parents, but it didn’t seem right to him, so after he bacame robin, and found out about sheil he thought that was where the feeling of longing was coming from, but then she betrayed him and he died at the hands of the joker. and in that one minute in the realm of the dead everything felt right only to wake up in his own grave and then get dumped in the pit. After getting dumped in the pit the longing was gone, and in its place was rage, like he had lost something very important to him and this made him unbelievable angry, so he went to gotham to exact revenge, and ended up reconciling with his family.

a year later he’s stading at the back the room as the justice league summons the ghost king, and as the king emerges the feeling of longing that was gone since his death starts sputtering to life, he looks at the floating man and the longing gets stronger, they lock eyes and the man shudders and sinks to the floor sobbing, he wants nothing more that to run to him and hug him, hold him and never let go, he has never felt such intense emotions towards someone in his life.

As he slowly walks towards the ritual, danny lifts his and revrently utters his name “Jason”