#i think towards the end you can start seeing where the train starts crashing into walls

[elegyofthemoon]

guess what 🎟️

YAAAAAAAAY 🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂thank you!!!

Honestly it kinda makes me sad that there isn't a lot of stuff on Kallen around (maybe i'm just not searching in the right place :<), but I just loved and adored her character on first sight ngl. When my friend had first showed me "Thus Spoke Apocalypse", I feel like that was already the start of the downfall because the moment Kallen showed up, I was like "👀? oh? pretty girl? hi? hello?" and then I found out she dies so ASLDJFALSKJH

Of course! I didn't get a chance to really get to know her until I picked up Elan Palatinus AND SHES JUST SOOOOO COOL I'm particularly weak for characters that act like Robin Hoods, and her story in Elan Palatinus is kinda like that, trying to protect the weak + fighting against the corrupted church that she had vowed to fight for. I think it's also interesting too that this has been a childhood dream with her childhood friend to "save the world!!" but the more she grows up, the more the dream starts to get strained, and she finds herself questioning it a bit more, but she's bound to her oath to protect and I just alskdjfaldh

Kallen also runs away from the church after stealing some big secret they had been hiding - some powerful weapon of sorts - and it's so wild to me that despite being a traitor in the church's eyes, somewhere down the line of history, you'll wind up seeing that Kallen gets called "Saint Kallen," probably thanks to Otto being the leader of the church (Otto being her friend). The girl that no longer wanted anything to do with the church now being revered as a saint for the same church for her sacrifice later. She never asked for that. I don't think she'd want that, the same way that she probably never wanted Otto to revive her later.

ANYWAYS, on that note: Yae village arc! So at least to me, when I was getting into HI3rd and reading in the recommended reading order, the way that I have Kallen in my head was that by the end of Elan Palatinus, she swore to continue on her lonely path of the Kaslana oath -- that she must always walk alone in order to protect humanity because no one else could ever shoulder this burden but her. Being betrayed by her friend, it's hard to trust anyone/rely on anyone else to do it (at least that's the way I read it but it's been a bit so that might be obscured). So to me, I think Kallen was very much stuck in this idea that she must be the only one to bear this weight to save humanity, and that plays into how I interpret a lot of Kallen and Sakura's interactions. Maybe it's also because I can't understand love at first sight as someone who is on the arospectrum, but Kallen wanting to fight alongside Sakura so Sakura is not alone, the way my brain seemed to register it as, "Is Kallen saying this because she cares for Sakura as a person? Or is this part of the Kaslana oath that she had sworn herself to?" So there's a little bit of balancing between true affection vs obligations to duty when it comes to Kallen's feelings towards Sakura (in my perspective - i'm stressing on this bc i'm anxious forgive me asldfjh). But by the end of the arc, I think Kallen turns around and actually realizes her own feelings towards Sakura in the end, but she's still dutybound and she must protect everyone, even if it means sacrificing (or well not sacrificing but locking away) Sakura in order to do so.... It's just,,, really tragic and it's just 😭😭😭😭Man......

Anyways, Kallen!! I love Kallen. I also love Kallen and Sakura. I have my own thoughts regarding Sakura's feelings towards Kallen but this was just meant to be a Kallen brainrot post myeheh <3

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

How would AK!Jason go with the fact that Y/N got kidnapped by Harley Quinn’s thugs while he was busy on a mission with his Militia. Love your stories by the way!

Abducted

Hi, nonnie! Thank you! Fair warning, this gets angsty. ~2.3k words

The Arkham Knight is surrounded by the dead bodies of nine of his most trusted and skilled men. It's not a mystery how they got that way. He shot the ones that were still alive himself.

Number ten is cowering on the ground, it's pathetic, really. They were supposed to be the best of the best.

That's what he was paying them for. So why the hell aren't you in the safe house he left you in? He unloads the rest of the clip into number tens leg, voice flat as he seethes, "Where are they?"

Number ten cries out. Jason doesn't really care. "They're– Harley! Quinn's gang got 'em," number ten chokes out, shaking and sobbing and weak.

"And where, exactly, did they take them?" Jason asks, reloading his gun.

"I don't know," number ten wails, and if Jason wasn't so pissed he'd roll his eyes. But he doesn't. This is serious. You're missing, and he's on the verge of blowing Gotham to hell.

"Guess," he hisses, pressing the barrel of the gun to the man's forehead.

"I don't– they said something about a carnival," number ten chokes out.

"Anything else," The Arkham Knights asks. Number ten shakes his head vigorously. Jason pulls the trigger and watches the body slump to the floor. He turns to the rest of the men, watching as they stiffen and shift under his gaze.

He's already stalking past them, "What do you have?"

"Sir, Harley Quinn hasn't been in Gotham since the Joker died," one of the men starts. Jason wonders if they notice the way his hands clench. "But there's rumors about a separate cell of Joker apologists, fanatics trying to keep his name alive."

He grits his teeth. Fine, that's not new information. But why would they go after you? "And," he forces out, "What does that have to do with them?"

His men follow him uneasily, "GCPD flagged a shipment to ACE Chemicals that went missing a few days ago. They– it was mentioned the truck was carrying chemicals similar to the ones used in the Joker and Harley Quinn cases, sir."

If he was any less trained, any less used to the hell that is Gotham, he would have stumbled, let out choked sounds and anguish and fear.

"One of the techs has a theory it's a revenge kidnapping," one of the sergeants continues, "for taking over Joker's old hideouts last week. It looks like they used a form of the laughing gas on the sentries outside."

"They're all going to be dead by the end of the night," He snaps, gesturing towards one of the lieutenants, "Get the men to set up a parameter. No one leaves the area. And no one moves in until they're secured. Understood?"

They nod vigorously. "Bring the fear toxin," the Arkham Knight grits out. He's out of the safe house and sprinting over Gothams rooftops without another word.

He knows Gotham better than most. Knows to take a shortcut over city hall, knows to jump in three... two... one... to land perfectly on a passing train. Knows when to shoot his grappling gun for the quickest route to the abandoned fairgrounds.

His heart is racing. He can see the number tracking his pulse steadily rising. He glares at the little number on the corner of his screen with a vengeance. He doesn't get to be scared. Doesn't get to panic until you're back at the base, warm and safe in his bed.

There's bile in his throat as he stalks through the shadows of the carnival. It rises with each thug he leaves crumpled and lifeless in the dirt. He's only acting on his training now, on the drive that he has to get to you, has to save you.

He slips past decaying attractions, clenches his fists at the abandoned ACE Chemicals truck crashed into a rotted ring toss booth. He follows the laughter and taunting voices to a ripped and decrepit tent.

There's not many places to hide, but Jason's the best at what he does. He thinks he might have been born to stalk the filth of Gotham.

His eyes narrow at the sight of you. Arms tied behind your back. Bruise forming on your cheek. Dazed expression, likely a concussion. Balanced precariously on the seat of a dunk tank over a pool of neon chemicals.

His fingers twitch over his gun when one of the goons throws a ball at the target, barely missing as the others laugh.

He counts the number of Joker fanatics in the room. Thirteen men. Eight women. Six posted close enough to you where they could hit the target if he's not fast enough. Seventeen with visible guns. All with visible weapons. There's more voices outside the tent.

He eyes the woman swinging a bat covered with barbed wire a little too close to the dunk tank, too close to you. Jason wants to get you out first. There's too many variables. You could get shot. He's not fast enough.

Someone throws another baseball. It's a perfect toss. He shoots it out of the air.

"You have something of mine," The Arkham Knight drawls, stepping out of the shadows. He would smile at the way most of the room flinches at the sight of him. He would if you weren't teetering over a vat of bubbling chemicals.

One of the men steps forward. Stupid of him, really, "Finders keepers." He says it like it's a game. Like you're just some toy they picked up off the street.

Jason laughs. It's funny, that they think just because they stole you, it makes you any less his, "I'm going to give you two choices. One, you drop your weapons and leave. Two, you stay and you learn exactly what the chemicals in that vat can do."

More people leave than he expected. Huh. Guess they aren't so loyal to the clowns' legacy as they said. "I'm not scared of you," Goon number one spits. Goon number one gets a bullet in his stomach.

"You will be," The Arkham Knight murmurs. It's quick work. They're untrained, inexperienced. Half of them are high. It becomes increasingly clear with each body that hits the floor gasping that someone paid off his men to get to you.

He's pulling you off and out of the dunk tank as the last thug hits the floor, "How bad is it?" Jason's hands do not shake as he unties your wrists. (They do.) His breath does not leave his lungs when you say your head hurts. (It does.)

His eyes dart over your face and he picks you up to cradle you against his chest, "I'll have a medic look over you when we get back." He tries to sound soothing, the modulator makes it sound emotionless. You don't even acknowledge it.

He carries you out of the tent. The Joker fanatics that left are kneeling in the dirt and his men have their guns trained to kill. The Arkham Knight nods to them, "Use the Fear Toxin. Inject them with the highest dose we have. Drop the freaks still alive in the tent into the vat."

"Yes, sir," his men echo. Jason ignores the begging that starts up behind him as he carries you to the armored truck. He maneuvers you inside with him, settles you on his lap as his hand brushes the bruise on your face.

"Boss," the soldier behind the steering wheel prompts.

"Take us back to base, sergeant," The Arkham Knight says evenly, gloves still tracing your bruise. He doesn't ask questions, doesn't make any promises. The only comfort he offers is his hand gripping your waist tightly, paired with the gentle caressing of your face.

He knows it's not kind, the way he's holding you. He sees it in your eyes, even through the exhaustion and headache you're feeling, he's overbearing. He can't bring himself to care. All that matters is that you're safe in his arms.

The rest he can take care of later. It'll be simple for him and Deathstroke to pick through the rats in his ranks. Scarecrow's always in need of new test subjects, after all.

His grip tightens on you as the truck stops. The Arkham Knight picks you up easily, pushing the door open and carrying you inside the base. His soldiers are quick to move out of his way. They should be. Anyone with a brain can tell he's angry.

He's livid, at the way you hardly move, barely react to him. A medic files after him quickly as he sets you down in his personal quarters.

It's not a room he ever uses, preferring to sleep at whatever safe house you're in, but you're safer here until he can weed out the traitors. He watches you shift slightly in the chair, eyes unfocused.

Jason steps back and studies you with sharp eyes as the medic talks to you quietly, taking note of each wound and stumbled answer you give.

"Mild concussion, some scrapes and abrasions. Nothing that won't heal," the medic decides, "They shouldn't sleep for the next hour and need to be monitored for any worsening symptoms."

Jason motions them to leave. He hates to leave you alone, even for a moment, but there is one more order he needs to give. He follows the medic out the door.

A group of squad leaders stand rigid outside his quarters. Good. They should be on edge. "Make an example of any Joker or Harley Quinn sympathizers," he says, tone an unquestionable command, "Anything that's theirs, is a part of our operations by the end of the night."

He doesn't bother to stay and listen to their replies, already turning back into the room where you're waiting. Jason locks the door behind him, crossing the room in three strides and kneels at your feet.

You blink down at him. He hates the distant look in your eyes. You should be here. With him. He tugs his helmet off, "Does your head still hurt?"

You nod a little, the only proof you're really listening. He takes your hand in his brushing his thumb over your knuckles, "Say something." It's a command. It makes you jolt a little. He hates himself for it.

"I thought– they were gonna kill me," You stumble out, voice weak.

He nods, there's no pretending that's not true, "They can't kill anyone now."

He thinks you would have looked alarmed, if you didn't know what he was now. Relentless. A monster. A killer. But you do know, he's made that more than clear since the moment he got you back by his side.

You look resigned instead. Jason wishes you'd look relieved, "Do you need anything," he asks instead, reaching up to brush the bruise on your cheek. He can't help it, it's his fault that it's there.

You shake your head. He hates how quiet you're being, "Say something," he prompts again. He knows he shouldn't, knows you're in shock and you're hurt and you're tired and you're probably scared and he's not helping. But, he squeezes your hand anyway, a silent demand.

"What do you want me to say, Jason?" You breathe out, eyes finally focusing on him.

"Anything. Ask me for anything. Yell at me. Curse me out. Tell me you hate me. Hit me. Give me a bruise to match," He says almost desperately, pressing himself closer between your knees.

There's something wrong with him. He realizes that. The Arkham Knight is well aware that something inside of him is twisted, that you deserve better than this, especially after what you just went through, but he doesn't stop himself.

"I don't wanna hurt you," You murmur, "You came for me."

"I'm the reason you were there in the first place," Jason protests, both hands moving to cup your face, "I would deserve it, welcome it, if it was from you."

"I want," You start, and Jason leans forward eagerly, ready for whatever punishment you deliver, "I want to lay down. I wanna feel safe."

He falters, but doesn't move from between your legs, "You can't sleep for at least another hour."

"I know," You say quietly. Jason stares at you. You're the only thing that makes him unsure now. You always manage to knock him off center, never doing what he expects.

"Okay," he relents, scooping you up just as easily as he did in the tent. He carries you over to his bed. It's unused, perfectly made. He only ever sleeps wherever you are.

Jason carefully places you at the edge of the bed and digs through a drawer, handing you a shirt. He tugs off his armor, and frowns when you don't move.

"You don't want to sleep in that," it's not a question, and maybe he should frame it as one. Try to get nicer. But he thinks he might have forgotten how. You nod and slowly change. His eyes never leave you.

There's a few more bruises than he expected, and it makes rage coil in his chest. There's nothing he can do but crawl into bed at your side. It makes him uneasy, how little he can do for you.

He tugs you against him, he's not as gentle as he means to be.

You curl against him, fingers tangling into his shirt. He should comfort you here. Tell you it's going to be okay. Promise to protect you. He should rub your back and kiss your forehead and ease whatever pain you have in your heart.

But he's not gentle. He's not good. You're like this because of him. He holds you tighter when tears start to soak his shirt, lets you tangle your legs with his.

He doesn't manage to find the right words to say, doesn't manage to do the right thing before the hour is up, and you drift off to sleep. He doesn't think he ever will.

[hqbaby]

five — crush them

mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader

⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 1.9k content. profanity, lots of stress first thing in the morning

When you wake up, you’re vaguely aware of the foot on your face. And the elbow pressed against your thigh. And the hand on your knee. And the drool on your sheets.

You open your eyes, blinking as they adjust to the light, and look over at Sukuna, spread out on the mattress in a deep slumber. There’s an impulse to kick him, an impulse to laugh at how he hasn’t changed at all, still as much of a restless sleeper as he was in high school. But there’s another impulse—to jump out of your bed because you are so fucking late for training.

“Holy shit!” you exclaim, throwing Sukuna’s leg off of you as you practically crawl out of bed, half of your body still asleep while the other fights for its life to get up. “I’m gonna die!”

Sukuna’s awake now, eyes wide with panic as he watches you scramble to your closet and grab your shorts, shirt, socks. “What?” he says loudly, scrambling to get up too. “What’s happening?”

You pull your shirt off, completely ignoring the fact that you’re getting undressed in front of your well-known pervert of a best friend, as you search for a sports bra in your dresser. “I’m late!” you say, more to yourself than to him. “Coach is gonna have my head!”

“What?” he says again, louder this time, as he topples out of your bed, his head hitting the floor. “Fuck!”

You glance over at him. He’s rubbing his forehead as he searches for his hoodie. “Why are you panicking?” you ask, panicked.

“Because you’re panicking!” he says. He finds his hoodie and pulls it on, quickly rushing for your bedroom door. “I’ll drive you! You can change in the car!”

You’re standing in your bedroom in nothing but your bra and pajamas, hands full of clothes. If you were thinking clearly right now, you’d tell him he was being stupid. There’s no way in hell you’re going to get changed in his car. What is he even doing here in the first place? But your better judgment has escaped you and the only thought in your head is loud and blaring: You’re late.

“Move faster!” you tell him, grabbing your tennis bag in the corner and rushing past him. At least you have enough sense to not forget your phone and house keys before you’re running out of the apartment, Sukuna hot on your heels.

The two of you eschew the elevator, both knowing just how much time you’ll lose waiting for it, and run down the three flights of stairs to the parking lot.

“Where’s your car?” you yell at him over your shoulder. It occurs to you then how ridiculous you must look, half-dressed and completely deranged. You can’t bring yourself to care.

He points at the beat-up thing at the end of the parking lot. “There!” he says, tossing you the keys. “Go!”

You run ahead and start the car, jumping into the backseat as Sukuna finally catches up to you and gets in the driver’s seat. He steps on the gas as you haphazardly change into your clothes before checking to see the time. 

You’re ten minutes late as it is. You are so going to pay for this.

“Can’t you go any faster?” you ask him, smoothing out the creases in your shirt.

“Not if you don’t want to die.”

“I’m already gonna die!”

He swerves onto campus grounds, speeding as the car darts straight towards the sports complex. “If we die, do you think we’re going to hell?”

“Definitely,” you say, already on the edge of your seat as he pulls up in front of the gym. “Bye!”

You rush out of the car, running past a group of bewildered guys from the basketball team as you zoom ahead, running on pure adrenaline. When you get to the gates of the tennis court, you stop dead in your tracks.

Your bag.

You’re running back, already out of breath when you bump—well, crash into something. Or, to be more specific, someone.

There’s a moment when you feel your legs give under you and you’re ready to fall onto the ground. You hope that it’s a clean fall, one that won’t end in you dissolving into a puddle of flesh and bones. You wait for the fall, the pain, the terror.

And it never comes.

Instead, you feel two hands on your waist. A chest against yours. A voice saying your name with concern.

You look up.

Satoru.

His eyes are on you, searching for any signs of injury, any signs of distress. His grip on you is tight and familiar. His gaze is scrutinizing, but oh so comfortable.

There’s an impulse to cry to him and tell him that you’re late for training. That you’ll probably never see you again because you’re going to die very soon. That you want him to hold you forever. That you miss him. That you want him back.

You jump away, not allowing yourself to melt into his touch even if your body is screaming at you to let it. “Shit, I’m sorry,” you say as you try to find your balance. You realize that one of his hands is still on your waist. “I didn’t see—”

Another voice calls your name.

Sukuna runs towards you with your bag in hand. His footfalls slow when he sees you. When he sees Satoru.

“You forgot your bag,” he says, blinking as he processes the picture before him. You and your beloved ex who has his hand on you. “I thought you were late.”

You don’t have time for this, you decide, rushing over to grab your bag from him. “I am,” you say, already turning to run back to the court. “Thanks!”

You’re leaving before either of the two men can say a word.

“Finally gracing us with your presence?” your coach, Yuki, says as you step onto the court. To your relief, she doesn’t look too upset, even slightly amused. “Had somewhere better to be?”

“No, coach, I’m sorry,” you say as you take your place beside Mai. The rest of the girls on the team look at you with worry, confusion. “It won’t happen again.”

She crosses her arms over her chest and sighs. “You know what to do.”

You hang your head. “How many?”

“Five,” she says, hands already waving you off. “Go, go. We’re doing drills.”

You nod, dropping your bag on the benches before going off to do laps around the court.

It’s only as you’re running that the whole morning dawns on you. You woke up next to Sukuna. You got undressed in the back of his car. You literally ran into Satoru. And Sukuna found you with him.

It shouldn’t bother you as much as it does that your best friend who, yes, you are dating but only as a ruse, saw you with your ex. But it still leaves a weird feeling lingering in your chest, like a cough that’s just waiting to explode.

What should bother you more is how you were so ready to fold for Satoru. And, yet, that somehow feels right. It’s like you always knew you’d want to run back to him given the chance. It’s like you never wanted to leave in the first place.

As you hit your fourth lap, one thought strikes you: You don’t feel as tired as you usually are.

The past three weeks have been a haze of sleepless nights that have rendered you useless in the morning. You go to class, go to training, find it in yourself to eat, then lie in bed wide awake. Any moments of rest have quickly been interrupted by your recurring night terrors.

But you slept well. A solid few hours of dreamless sleep. As much as you want to deny it, you can’t help but think that it has something to do with the fact that you didn’t sleep alone. That Sukuna was right there beside you the whole time.

“What’s up with you?” Mai asks, handing you a bottle of water when you finally finish your laps. “You’re not usually this out of it.”

You take a swig of water and wipe your forehead with a towel. “Just a weird morning.”

She doesn’t buy it, because who would? So she stares at you, hard eyes waiting for an answer. While both Maki and Mai are capable of being completely terrifying, there’s just something about Mai that makes you shrink back, want to run and hide.

“The breakup’s been tough,” you tell her, immediately regretting it as soon as you say it. You can’t believe you’ve become the kind of girl who falls apart because of a guy. It’s embarrassing, but now you realize it’s probably warranted at times. Especially times like these. “It’s just a bad time.”

She raises a brow. “You can’t let it get in the way though,” she reminds you. “We have a tournament next week. I’m not losing my scholarship because you’ve decided to slack off.”

Now, that strikes a chord. That lights a fire. That starts a challenge. Like fuck are you going to let her think you’re slacking off.

“Fuck you,” you say, putting your water bottle down. You take your racket out and nod towards the court. Two of your teammates are already on the other side of the net. “Let’s crush them.”

She grins at that. “That’s my girl.”

“You can’t let her egg you on like that,” Maki says, watching as you slather yourself with Salonpas on the floor of your living room. “She’s just being a bitch. Like always.”

“I know,” you tell her. You wince as your muscles tense beneath your touch. “But she’s right. I can’t let Satoru get in the way.”

Your friend eyes you suspiciously. You can tell that she wants to say something, but she’s clearly holding her tongue.

“What?”

She feigns innocence. “What?”

“You have something to say,” you tell her. “So say it.”

Maki shrugs. “Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing.”

“It is.”

“Maki.”

She stretches out on your couch, her head lolling to the side as she lies down. Avoiding your eyes, she says, “Maybe it’s not just Satoru who’s getting in the way.”

“What do you mean?” you ask. “I haven’t broken up with anyone else.”

“Sure,” she says, looking at you now. “But you and Sukuna have been spending an awful lot of time together.”

You find yourself shaking your head automatically, as if you were just waiting for her to say that. “That’s stupid.”

Maki gives you a knowing look. “Okay,” she says and drops the subject completely. She knows you, and she knows you’re definitely going to be stubborn about this. Because there really is nothing going on with Sukuna. He’s just your friend, nothing more. “So what are we having for dinner?”

“Do you mean what are you going to buy me for dinner?”

The two of you bicker before deciding on heating leftovers from the other night. You’re not exactly sure that the leftovers in question are still edible but that hasn’t stopped you before.

While Maki raids the fridge, you unplug your phone from where it’s charging by the couch. And that’s when you see it. Or, well, them.

booger: i left my sunglasses at ur place

booger: give them back tnx

satoru <3 : i hope training was okay

satoru <3 : can we talk sometime?

notes. idk about you guys but i would run back to gojo at the first chance too 🧍‍♀️

[purinfelix]

didn't you believe in me? ⋆.˚ - franco colapinto

summary: following São Paulo, it's your job to remind Franco that one tough race isn't the end of the world w/c: 800

a/n: just wanted to write a little something following the brazil gp cus i just felt soooo bad for my boy

Ever since your boyfriend became a Formula One driver, there hadn't been many quiet moments in your life. From his excited ramblings as the two of you drove onto paddocks, to the endless chanting of his name from crowds of fans. It was exciting, mostly for him but for you as well, to watch the boy you loved become a man loved by many, many more.

But the drive home from São Paulo had been silent.

It's not like you didn't know why, you had been there the entire weekend - through the crash, his meetings with teams and everything else that had been going on. The crash had been scary for you, and your only care had been whether he was safe or not - but Franco didn't seem to share the same sentiment.

The rest of the afternoon had been tense, you were only able to watch from afar as he struggled through interviews that hounded him with uncomfortable questions. His professionalism through it all impressed you though, maybe his media training lessons were beginning to pay off. Still, you could tell he wasn't enjoying a single second of them from the way he stormed out of the media area and straight past you.

This car ride had been the only time the two of you were alone since the crash. Every so often you would glance over nervously, only to see your boyfriend looking out the window, silently.

"Franco," you say softly, less of a question and more of a call to his attention, but he doesn't give in. He only shakes his head slightly, a silent not right now which you recognise immediately.

You sit back with a soft sigh, though a soft tap on the leathered seat between you draws your attention towards where Franco's outstretched hand lays. Silently, you take it in yours, intertwining your fingers and rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb - it seems to be the most you can do at this moment to comfort him.

After what seems like an eternity, the car stops in front of the hotel where the two of you are staying. Still, in silence, the two of you file out, and head up the elevator to your room. The only noise that fills the space between you is the soft hum of the elevator and the noise your keycard makes when you unlock the door to your shared room.

You let him in first and shut the door softly behind you. The tension that had seemed to follow the two of you home from the paddock finally seemed to dissipate as you watched him kick off his shoes and sit down on the edge of the bed with a huff.

You make your way over to him quietly, wedging yourself to stand in between his legs. He hangs his head with a soft sigh, his hands fiddling at the fabric of your shirt as he pulls you a little closer.

"Do you want to talk about it?" you whisper, and he shakes his head.

"Not really," his voice is hoarse and it hurts your heart a little to hear. Still, you bring your hands up to start combing through his hair softly, a motion you know brings him comfort. There's another moment of silence and when you hear him sniff, you almost think he's crying. But he looks up at you, eyes a little watery. "I just really want to do well."

"You will," you say soothingly, "you are doing well." He nods, though you can tell he doesn't seem convinced.

You move your hands down to cup his face, forcing him to look into your eyes. "I mean it." You lean down a little, pressing soft kisses across his forehead. When you stand back up, you feel his arms wrap around your waist as he pulls you towards him, burying his face into your stomach.

"I'm sorry for being an ass to you earlier," he sighs, and you can tell just how much he means it.

"Don't worry about it, I understand."

"And you're still here with me."

"Franco, baby, you're going to have to do a lot worse than that to get rid of me."

He lets out a soft laugh, muffled against the fabric of your shirt but still you feel yourself internally let out a sigh of relief at the sound.

"Thank you," he says softly, "for staying."

"Of course," you reply, intertwining your fingers with his curls once more. The two of you return to silence once more - though now you're relieved by the fact that it's one not out of sadness or anger but comfort, and quite honestly, one you wouldn't mind spending forever in.

taglist: (reply/send me an ask if you'd like to be added!)

@spreadyourwings-my-smiling-angel @alelo23 @scill-a @multifan-idk @presleycaudle

[airybcby]

જ⁀♡⊹｡° stains where you should be

( hinata shoyo x fem! reader )

♡ a/n — back in my haikyuu writing era ;)

♡ word count — 1.1k

♡ content — hinata shoyo x fem! reader, brazil! hinata, pro beach volleyball player! reader, slight nsfw, 18+, no explicit nsfw but it is mentioned, manga spoilers ig? even though i'm sure that many people know how it ends, established relationship, messy relationship, yearning, lmk if i missed anything!

♡ synopsis — after half a year in Brazil, the only time hinata feels like he is home...is when he's with you.

The first time Hinata sees you, you’re standing in the sand like you were born there.

The wind howls around you, but you don’t waver. The sand shifts beneath your feet, but you don’t stumble. Every movement is precise, every step purposeful.

You’re not just playing beach volleyball—you are the game, completely in sync with the rhythm of the court, the rush of the ocean breeze, the pulse of competition.

Hinata watches, entranced.

He came to Brazil to train, to push himself beyond his limits, to become more than just the player he was. But here, on the beach, everything is different.

The sand swallows his steps, the wind steals his control, and suddenly, the court he knew so well has transformed into something untamed.

He’s never played like this before, never had to adjust for an environment that fights back.

But you? You make it look effortless.

The match ends, and he’s already moving toward you before he fully realizes it. His shirt sticks to his skin, damp from his own practice, but all he can think about is you.

“How do you do it?” he blurts out, still catching his breath.

You turn, blinking at him with an unreadable expression. Up close, you’re even more intimidating—not in size, but in presence. Like you know exactly who you are, like the world doesn’t shake you.

“Do what?” you ask, tilting your head.

Hinata gestures vaguely to the sand, the wind, everything. “That! The way you move, the way you—like the wind doesn’t even touch you. How do you jump like that?”

A slow smile tugs at your lips. “I guess I just got used to it.”

“Teach me,” he says immediately, voice alight with determination. “Please.”

You exhale, watching him for a long moment before nodding. “Alright. Hope you’re ready to eat a lot of sand.”

It starts as training.

Late-night sessions on the sand, long after the sun has dipped below the horizon. The two of you meet when the rest of the world has gone quiet, when the only sounds left are the crash of waves and the occasional distant laughter from a nearby beach bar.

At first, he struggles. A lot.

The sand betrays him. The wind mocks him. The game he thought he understood has changed, and he stumbles over his own feet more times than he can count.

You laugh every time.

“Did you just trip over the air?” you tease as he groans, face-first in the sand.

“It moved!” Hinata protests, spitting out a mouthful of grit. “I swear the sand moved!”

You roll your eyes, offering him a hand. He takes it without hesitation.

The nights blur together—long hours spent chasing the ball, learning the subtle shifts of the wind, adjusting his jumps. He gets better. He learns fast. And as the training stretches on, something else changes, too.

One night, after an exhausting session, you tilt your head at him. “My place is closer than yours,” you say. “You can crash there if you want.”

Hinata hesitates for only a second before nodding. “Yeah. Okay.”

Your home is small but warm. The kind of place that feels lived in, filled with little pieces of you—a shelf lined with trophies, photos pinned up on a board, the lingering scent of something citrusy in the air.

You toss him a towel and some clean clothes. “These should fit you.”

Hinata looks down at the oversized towel wrapped around his waist. “What? You don’t like my new look?”

You snort. “Not unless you plan on making it a fashion statement.”

He grins but takes the clothes, disappearing into the bathroom. When he emerges, you’re already settled on the couch, a movie playing in the background.

Hinata isn’t really watching.

His gaze drifts to you—the way you’re curled up, comfortable, the way the screen flickers across your face. He doesn’t know why, but he wants to be closer.

The movie ends. You stretch, turning to him with a sleepy smile. “Goodnight, Hinata.”

Before he can stop himself, he leans in and kisses you.

Your breath hitches, but you don’t pull away. You kiss him back, fingers curling into his shirt, pulling him closer, and before either of you fully register what’s happening, you’re tangled together—breathless, desperate, lost in each other.

By the time you make it to your room, he’s memorizing the way your skin feels under his hands, the way your laughter gets caught in your throat. You sigh his name.

And for the first time since coming to Brazil, Hinata feels like he’s home.

You are happy. Really happy.

Days spent playing, nights spent wrapped up in each other, whispered confessions between laughter. You make promises in the dark, in the spaces between his dreams.

And then—he leaves.

Hinata tells you he’ll come back. Of course he will. How could he not? Brazil changed him. You changed him. He says it with so much conviction that you believe him.

But then the months pass. And pass.

You call. No answer. You text. No response.

Then one day, you see the headline.

“Hinata Shoyo Signs with MSBY Black Jackals”

The picture shows him back in Japan, grinning, surrounded by everything he once dreamed of.

Your hands tremble as you set your phone down. You wait for a message, for anything.

But nothing comes.

And for the first time, you wonder if he ever planned to come back at all.

It happens at a match.

You’re focused on the game, locked in, until you feel it—eyes on you.

When you glance to the side of the court, he’s there.

Hinata, hands shoved in his pockets, watching you like he did that first time.

Your chest tightens.

After the game, he approaches, hesitant but there.

“Hey,” he says softly.

You exhale. “Hey.”

For a long moment, neither of you speak. Then, he swallows. “Can we talk?”

You hesitate before nodding.

The restaurant is quiet. The food is untouched.

Hinata had requested a private room for the two of you, the empty room almost seeming as if it was mocking you. You'd rather be playing volleyball naked, you think.

Anything would be better than this strange form of torture Hinata has put you through.

You stare at your glass, and then the words slip out before you can stop them.

“I waited for you.”

Hinata’s breath catches. His grip tightens around his drink. “I know.”

Your voice wavers. “I waited, and you didn’t come back.”

When you finally look at him, tears are welling in your eyes.

Hinata feels something in his chest break, and before he can think—he’s kissing you.

Between kisses, he mumbles

I missed you.

Missed Brazil.

Missed us.

I love you.

When you pull away, your voice is quiet. “Then prove it.”

And this time—he will.

He swears by it.

trying to get back into multi-fandom writing :) hope this was good!

likes, comments, and reblogs appreciated!

[wileys-russo]

nah but i’m thinking about annoying bf katie who just needs to be comforted sometimes too. she’s a big jokester until she’s not and sometimes she just needs some extra loving

secret softie II k.mccabe x reader

"maybe next time darlin." you jolted as your girlfriends hand smacked your ass as she jogged by, having tackled and taken the ball from you during a training friendly. "katie!" you scowled, having warned her many times about doing it in front of your team mates.

"sorry i only chat with winners, can't be seen with a loser its bad for my rep." she puffed out her chest with a smug smile as you rolled your eyes and shifted back into the game, yelled at by lia to focus as you did just that.

eventually your team conceeded again and katie's team won 2-1, though you'd think she'd just won the ballon d'or or a derby with the way she was carrying on. you watched through unimpressed eyes as she celebrated with her team, jumping on top of poor stina and sending the tall blonde crashing to the floor.

"you are not hearing the end of that tonight mate." you sighed as leah patted your back sympathetically, not having played but still watched the friendly once she'd finished her own training for the day. "can i stay at your place?" you groaned, head falling to her shoulder as the defender chuckled.

"if you don't think she'd happily kick a door or two down to come and collect you, you haven't been seeing her long enough." you groaned louder at that, turning to bury your face in leahs shoulder as her arms wrapped you in a hug.

leaving your girlfriend to her victory parade you turned and started to make your way back inside, leah teasing you as your stomach grumbled loudly and your face blushed bright red, alessia and lia falling in step with the two of you.

"oi! where ya goin?" you were almost into the locker room to change out of your boots when you found yourself being held back, dragged away around a corner. "hiya." katie grinned with pearly white teeth, pushing you into the wall behind you as she stared down at you.

"where's my kiss for winnin then?" the irishwoman demanded, puckering her lips expectantly. "you'll get a kiss once you find some humility mccabe." you pinched her lips in your fingers and pushed her off, though you couldn't make it more than a few steps before she was on you again.

"mccabe? baby you wound me." the defender pouted as you rolled your eyes for what felt like the hundreth time today. "sorry i only call people who are nice to me by their preferred titles." you patted her cheek sarcastically as she scoffed.

"i am lovely to you! a complete sweetheart." she smiled wolfishly, leaning in to steal a kiss as you turned your head and her lips instead met your cheek. "oi!" the brunette whined, trying again as you continued to blank her.

"kiss me." katie demanded with a grumpy pout, hands tightly holding your waist as you sighed dramatically and leaned up as if to kiss her, your lips landing on her forehead instead with a wink as you once again pushed her off and returned toward the locker room.

"yeah yeah put a sock in it!" you waved off steph and beth who jeered at you, having also been a part of the winning team. most of the girls already having headed off to lunch you wasted no time changing from your boots into your slides, which were really katies anyway.

"come on then." you sighed impatiently, holding your hand out and wiggling your fingers, katie beaming as she took your hand in hers and the two of walked out together and headed off for lunch.

having an upcoming gym session to finish the day you all stayed in your training clothes, the cafeteria smelling like deodorant and about twenty different kinds of perfume.

"was that your stomach?" katies eyes widened as you nodded, puffing air from your nose and crossing your arms as you both patiently waited your turn. "hangry girl." your girlfriend teased, kissing the top of your head as you grabbed a tray and she did the same.

"you know maybe if you'd focused on eating some actual food this morning instead of making breakfast for me you might not be so hungry darlin." the taller girl whispered in your ear with a cheeky grin as your cheeks flushed bright red knowing exactly what she meant, punching her shoulder with a shake of your head.

finally getting your food you both moved to sit down at a table, alessia and kyra to your left with stina and cloe on katies right. "good is it ky?" you laughed watching kyra shovel mouthful after of food into her mouth with a nod.

"its not going to run away kyra, thats gross." alessia chuckled shoving the younger midfielder who shrugged carelessly. your stomach rumbling again you happily gathered a forkful of pasta and raised it toward your mouth.

but before it could meet your lips there was a clash of metal and katies fork knocked against yours, driving the pasta to fall off and back into the bowl. you shot her a glare and tried again as she darted out to repeat the action.

"katie!" you huffed, turning your body to try and shield your food away from her, though this time the attack came from your other side. "alessia!" you gasped as the blonde smirked, a high five sounding behind your head as katie chuckled.

"don't." you warned them both firmly, gathering another forkful and hurrying it into your mouth, sighing happily. "urgh get off!" you managed out amongst your food as katie shoved her finger in your ear.

"i will stab you with this fork mccabe." you threatened seriously as your girlfriends smirk only grew and she wiggled her eyebrows. with your attention focused on her you missed kyras arm sneak out and steal a few mouthfuls of pasta.

"oi! go get your own seconds you scab." you reached over alessia and smacked the back of the younger girls head who whined and mumbled she was just hungry. "alessia if you so much as touch me or my food again i will shove rip your slide off your foot and shove it down your throat." you spoke calmly noticing the packet of salt she had hidden in her hand.

with her and kyra scurrying away to get seconds and katie busied in conversation with cloe you managed to finish the rest of your food, even sneaking a mouthful of katies when she wasnt looking.

"peace offering." you looked up suspiciously as alessia and kyra returned, placing down a bowl of fruit salad in front of you as your eyes narrowed. "what did you do to it?" you questioned with a raised eyebrow as kyra scoffed.

"nothing! you don't trust we could just be nice?" "no, no i don't." "hey!" "you eat some first, then i'll consider it."

that seemed to confirm it for you as both girls shared a nervous look, clearly having tampered with it one way or another.

"katie made us do it!"

~

"are you really going to ignore me the whole way home?" your girlfriend laughed as you stayed quiet, staring straight ahead as she continued to try and engage you in conversation unsucessfully.

pulling into your driveway you were up and out of the car before katie could even get her belt off, cursing to herself in annoyance at your silence as she grabbed both of your bags from her boot and made her way inside.

dropping the bags in their place and kicking off her shoes she wandered around until she found you in the kitchen filling a glass of water by the sink. "get off." you warned as she attached herself to you from behind

"no i want a cuddle." you almost broke at the shift of tone in her voice, still pulling her hands off once you'd necked your water and left the glass in the sink. "baby!" katie whined after you, her calls out ignored as you settled into the lounge.

but no sooner had you picked up the remote was it taken from your hands, katie basically crawling into your lap and tugging it from your grip, tossing it onto the sofa and burying her face in your neck.

a smile ghosted at the end of your mouth as the irishwoman grabbed your wrists and moved your arms to wrap around her, mumbling again that she wanted a cuddle and pushing her face deeper into your neck.

"you are unbelievable mccabe." you sighed as she tightly balled your hoodie in her hands pulling your body as close to her own as she could. "stop that!" her head appeared in front of you with a scowl, lips turned downward into a pout.

"all day you've denied me kisses and called me mccabe. i want my girlfriend back i miss her." the defender mumbled quietly as you finally gave in at that, hand on the back of her neck guiding her head to rest on your chest.

"sorry baby." you apologized, carding one hand through her hair and pushing the other down the collar of her top to lightly scratch her back, the irishwoman stretching her body out to lay down between your legs still half on top of you.

"such a softie." you whispered with an affectionate smile, tilting her head back a little and pressing a few tender kisses to her lips. "shut up." katie grumbled, exhaling and closing her eyes as you held her tightly, mumbling sweet nothings in her ear until you felt her completely relax.

chuckling you very carefully moved to grab the remote, not wanting to wake her as you flipped through to find something to watch. you heard her mutter something inaudible as her hand smacked around blindly to find yours, pushing it back up her top making your smile widen, settling in and continuing the rhythmic running up and down of your nails against her back.

"my soft girl."

[takumifujiwarastan]

"look at me, not him."

pairings: megumi fushiguro x best friend!reader contents: jealousy, sprinkle of angst, a bit suggestive, reader has a bit of traumatic past but not too many details. no established relationship (yet)!

594 words

a/n: very self indulgent bc i js wanted to write for mah boi megumi <3

he couldn't hate yuji.

he couldn't hate the fact that he was stealing your attention away from him more and more with each passing day.

that the small smiles only he could see were now becoming regular when you were around the pink haired boy.

of course, he's more than happy that you're smiling. the shell that had been enclosing you for so long was finally starting to break in the company of safe people who cared about you.

he just wished it was him who made you smile like that.

since when did he start wishing that? he couldn't remember. he couldn't count the days he's spent thinking about you. the nights he spent dreaming about you. you somehow slithered your way into his mind along with every thought that whizzed by.

it used to be just you and him. being unofficially 'adopted' by gojo a few years after he was, you'd come to know him most your whole life. he knew everything about you. he knew the background you came from. the pain you suffered. every hit you took. every time you got back up and kept going.

he missed the days of just him and you. lazy afternoons in each others' dorm rooms, spent basking in the warmth of the sun that shone through the window and talking about whatever. sleepless rainy nights that ended with you in his arms, your breathing in sync with his as the rain pattered against the glass of the window.

and the rare smiles he got to see from you whenever you were with him. him. not yuji.

and its yuji you're waiting for now, as you stand patiently at the end of the hallway, where he said he would meet you after showering and changing after training.

megumi's sharp eyes narrow at the sight of you waiting for someone other than him yet again. without even a second thought he starts padding down the wood floor of the dorm hall.

"y/n." he breathes out, stopping just a few feet from you. you look up at him, meeting his eyes that seem to carry unfamiliar emotion behind them.

"hey..." you reply softly. "you alright?" the question falls from your lips so innocently, in such a clueless matter he can't be upset that you aren't spending time with him. his eyes soften at this, then closing them with a sigh.

his fists then ball up at his sides upon hearing yuji's voice at the other end of the hall. he turns his head and shoots him a menacing look, to which the peach haired boy with widened eyes retreated back to his dorm.

you turn your head and watch as yuji goes back into his room, shutting the door hastily. "megumi, me and yuji were going to-" your irritated tone is cut off when a hand is brought up to your face, tilting your head back towards the raven haired boy as he crashes his lips into yours, a small gasp escaping your lips when your back hits the wall. his free hand is seated on your waist, gripping feverishly as he deepens the kiss.

he pulls back a few moments after, looking into your eyes with a fiery anger yet desperate longing at the same time. his hand holds your face so softly, tenderly, contrary to the emotions brewing inside him. his thumb brushing over your cheekbone so delicately, as if you were fragile as glass. you can almost hear the yearning in his voice when he breathes out;

"look at me, not him."

do u want a part 2?

[unknown-art-room1]

Starlight Express Headcannons

I don't have many at the moment, but I can try to share what I got, though most will be character related. I'm not gonna go over every character, but the ones I've drawn so far: Greaseball, Caboose, Electra, Dinah, Pearl, Rusty, Hydra, Flattop, and Dustin.

Let's start off with this, I don't think most of the names are names, but actually nicknames. I don't have much to go off of but I think all the characters have human names that are just puns. The coaches are a great example of this; Dinah, Carrie, Ashley, Buffy and etc. The only reason I am saying this, is because of Rusty. He tells others to call him Rusty even if it is mean, it fits but it's not his name. I don't know what the others would be called but it's kinda fun to speculate.

Greaseball

This next one I got no evidence for, but I believe the trains are based on real people. Control has them as toys, but if he was gifted the toy by someone I believe that train is based on that person. Rusty is supposedly his dad's old train so Rusty looks like his dad, Momma/Poppa is based on his grandparents (they kinda act like grandparents in my mind), Pearl would be based on his mom, etc. If he has a train he bought himself, then they're based on someone else he knows or has seen. I really wouldn't be surprised if Control saw a drag queen and thought they looked really cool and that's where Electra's form came from.

Less of a headcannon and more of a theory... But I think the trains actually have a Toy Story/Harry and His Bucket Full Of Dinosaurs vibes. The musical is a dream, but for a dream the kid honestly talks to them and interacts with them more how you might with real people. He talks to them directly, they listen, as he has control over them in a sense. We see this throughout the performance as he threatens to put them in the box if they don't behave. But, he only has control over them when they're the main focus. When they aren't the main focus and towards the end, the trains can act as they want, they tell him to "shut up". I fully believe the dream was only the start of several adventures to come for this kid and his toys.

This one is silly, but I think the engines have different sneezes. Steamers whistle, diesel their horns blow, and the electrics just sound like their computer programme is crashing.

Greaseball, apart from being Southern and an absolute simp I can see them having an interest in engine repair and modification. Look they can't spell, they can only do the more physical based activities well so they might not have had any "schooling" in a sense. Instead they has a more hands on approach, learning things from physically experience. So, before they became a racer I can see them taking an interest in engines, could also explain why they were called Greaseball. Always covered in grease.

Caboose

This one is more for the male version of Greaseball just because he's got the deeper voice, but I could see him doing an Elvis or Johnny Bravo impression to make Dinah laugh.

I've only seen clips, but I think Greaseball is touch adverse to a degree. Whenever it comes to them touching others, they are usually the one who initiates the touch. But if he is being touched by others, they usually watches them as they do it. Caboose put a hand on his shoulder, he turns his head and watches as he does it before looking away. The only person he doesn't really do this with is Dinah. Yes, he usually initiates the touch with her but it's more of an offer. Flexes their muscles, puts their hand out for her to hold while they roll away, he either looks after she touches or before she does, never as it happens. Hell, the whole neck rub thing before they race, they don't let anyone touch them but Dinah.

You can't tell me, if they get angry you wouldn't hear their engine rev. I swear, it's like with every angry huff, it's just the engine revving more and more.

Unlike most of the others, who would be made of plastic or metal as they're toys, I like to think CB is actually made of wood. I don't know how to explain it, but sometimes the actor makes him look wooden in photos which is both creepy and confusing. I don't know how he does it, but the idea of CB being wooden leads to a few behavioural habits. Either he moves about on purpose like a doll to creep others out, just staring at you unblinking or even moves about like a puppet being moved... Or the other idea he tries to bite like he's a literal nutcracker. If given the chance he will bite as a warning or for fun and you'll never know if it's meant to hurt until it's too late.

He can float... This one is kinda self explanatory, but he's wooden so he floats on the water until he becomes water logged.

This one is more silly, but I feel like Caboose would identify as whatever gender is most useful to them or just to do it for a laugh. So, they are now known as the Gender Jester.

Electra

I actually have a few for Electra, so I'm gonna start off with my personal favourite, their mohawks are wigs that connect via magnets. They're electric, they can control others movements via electricity, so holding a wig to their head should be easy... Unless they crash and their system is on the Fritz.

Apart from being a racer and a diva, they secretly are a gamer in their free time. Spending as much time as possible by their computer or whatever counsel they are using. Wearing very relaxed clothes, like a hoodie and joggie bottoms.

Dinah

Everyone says she stress bakes/cooks which I can agree with, but I would also say if she is stressed about someone for whatever reason, she stress bakes/cooks for them. Oh? Rusty is getting stressed about how much work he has to do around the railyard? Okay, time to make him his favourite stew to cheer him up! Pearl is anxious about being new here? Sugar cookies with glitter!

Pearl

This one, I'm not sure if you guys will agree with this one... But I swear she is secretly scary. She gets possessive about Greaseball, she talks about getting revenge after being dumped (especially the revival version), and I swear in one version she does also bully Rusty? I think she's only nice to those she likes, anyone else I can see her being mean to or willing to fight them if given the right motivation.

Dinah started the whole spelling thing for her work. Why? Well some of the people who need to buy food might not know how to say the name of the food, it's just easier to spell it. Especially if it is a kid who is ordering food. A habit she picked up, and kept when not wanting to say certain words around others, or if the word is more negative.

She fell for Greaseball first, they fell harder, I will die on this hill... Unless you give me a really cute alternative.

I only have one for Pearl so far, but it's because she is a new train. She's the new toy for Control, she's got a name, a slight personality but apart from that she doesn't have much else going on for her. The coaches introduce themselves to her first and kinda adopt her into their group. Pearl doesn't know anything about the railyard, only about her friends and her interests that Control gave her. I honestly believe she is more like a child. Not in age or physical form, but her curiosity, she doesn't know how the social hierarchy and norms of the trains are. So, what she likes or what she does she doesn't see it as wrong, just new and confusing.

Take her liking Rusty or teaming up with Greaseball. The other coaches judge her for liking Rusty at first, but she doesn't care. When she teams up with Greaseball, she says "it's only fun". Yes, she was confused about her feelings at the time between GB and Rusty, but she just wants to race. At the time she knows teaming up with Rusty isn't accepted by the others, so Greaseball asking her to race with them? Why wouldn't she say yes? I'm not saying what she did was right, with how she hurt Dinah, but I don't think she did it to be malicious.

Rusty

Hydra

This one is just really me agreeing that Rusty has a whistle stim. But, I also believe the whistle he has also reflects his other emotions, same thing for when he steams. High pitched happy whistle, defeated/deflated it goes from high to low pitched, silly it kinda sounds like he is going "wa, was, waa", angry is both a loud high pitched whistle but he is actively streaming... And in love/flustered soft steam and quiet whistle every time he sighs.

Next to Momma/Poppa, he is the designated train for dealing with the Freights when they misbehave or need to be maintained. That is if they'll listen, doesn't always work if they don't respect him, but he is basically the sibling left in charge of his unruly family.

Flattop

Anything water based they love. Aquariums, ice drinks, water sports/activities, etc. They absolutely love it, they would definitely be the one to start a water fight on a hot day.

When hanging around with Porter, Lumber and Slick, their favourite thing to do together isn't dancing or working. It's a steam bath. Water, coals, maybe logs and some scented oils. Yeah, it's something the four of them can all agree on and have a secret spot where they do this to relax.

The only way you could make them stay still, put a water wheel in front of them. It has both water, and something that spins... Just be careful they don't try to climb it and balance on top of it as it moves, we don't want another accident.

Dustin

He likes football. Not American Football, European football. Either he gets involved or he loves to watch it. If he gets involved, sometimes he can get a bit physical bit if he gets too competitive. If he just watches he is worse, in this case he can watch and judge, and if he sees something that he doesn't agree with... Let's just say he can get a bit... Passionate. Needing to be dragged away before he starts a fight.

Flattop acts tough, and chaotic, but give him a chance and he's a real softie. He would kind of be like that fun uncle, he really loves to annoy you but if you were ever in trouble he is the first on the case to come to your rescue.

He's a lightweight when it comes to drinking. That's it.

He's the sweetest, we all agree with that. I feel as if the coaches would love him. Big friendly guy who is shy? They would dote on him! He has his special interest, which he will defend but he never tries to do anything that would annoy the others. You can't tell me they wouldn't love him.

Despite how shy, and anxious he gets he would go out of his way to make sure you are okay. Something scary happens? He goes to the train that's furthest away or alone to keep them company until everyone knows it's okay again.

Dustin is an ambrivert. He is shy around others, but put him with his close friend or he is sharing his interests and he comes out of his shell completely.

[ashtavula]

HIII can i request some overblots react to their s/o fight with clones like in frieren after the end ????? And after their s/o wins the battle so passed out and the overblots have to take care its injury

Oh, like Land's ability, right? Though, his ability is pretty similar to Cater's...

Also, I'm going with the assumption that the reader isn't actually fighting the boys in this. You're just getting into a random fight.

Overblotters with an s/o that can use clone magic

Riddle:

-During the fight, Riddle does his best to help you, even though he's not the best at it. He's been around Cater for long enough that the clones don't faze him, but he stresses himself out trying to protect all of them since he's not sure which one is the real you. After the fight, Riddle turns to scold you for getting involved, only to see you faint. He immediately starts shrieking for help as he drags you to the infirmary.

-He blames himself for not actually being able to keep you safe as he tends to your injured body. If he was a stronger mage, then this wouldn't have happened. As he carefully reapplies your bandages, Riddle becomes determined to further improve himself, both as a mage and a partner, so that you won't have to suffer for his failures again.

Leona:

-Leona isn't actually all that worried about you during the fight. He assumes that you're more than capable of keeping yourself safe, so he focuses on ending the fight as soon as possible. He grumbles as he turns his gaze towards you, and the last thing you hear is him yell your name as you collapse.

-Once you wake up, Leona refuses to leave your side. His gaze is intense, and he mutters that you should leave all the fighting to him if you're going to lose, even with your advantage. Despite the fussing, his hand is gentle as he slowly strokes your skin, his brow furrowed. In his mind, he's berating himself for not being good enough to keep you safe.

Azul:

-Azul isn't the best in a brawl, but he's doing his best, even though he's wishing that he still had his tentacles. He's very concerned about you, even though he can see your clones throwing punches. And in the end, his worst fears are confirmed when he finds you passed out.

-He fusses over you like a worried mother as you recuperate, constantly fluffing your pillows and shooing the twins out of the room so you can rest. However, all he can think about is that he truly is a worthless octopus. If he was better, then he could have saved you. Instead, the only thing he can do is think up ways to hasten your recovery. Because the sooner you're back on your feet, the sooner he'll stop feeling like he doesn't deserve you.

Jamil:

-Jamil is well-trained, and he knows how to protect someone in a fight. However, he runs himself ragged trying to protect all of your clones. He doesn't know where the real you is, until you crumple to the ground. Jamil curses under his breath, and he scoops you up into his arms before rushing back to Scarabia.

-He's also the type of guy who scolds you for being so reckless. Really, he's just mad at himself for letting you get hurt. Jamil clicks his tongue in annoyance as he checks on your injuries, muttering about teaching the idiots who hurt you a lesson. In the end, he's an excellent caretaker, and you make a swift recovery.

Vil:

-He hates having to get his hands dirty, but Vil doesn't mind "disciplining" a rowdy group of students, especially if you're involved. Vil takes your opponents down with swift, elegant kicks and punches, and the two of you quickly take them down. Unfortunately, you end up crashing into Vil as your vision blurs, and you faint in his arms.

-You love Vil, but you wish he'd stop shoving foul potions down your throat. All of his concoctions are helping you heal, but that doesn't help the taste. He also keeps lecturing you, all with a disapproving frown on his face. However, once the bottles of medicine are empty and he's finished talking, he'll press a gentle kiss to your forehead, and he'll quietly beg you to not scare him like that again.

Idia:

-Idia's panicking, yelping for Ortho's help while he tries to avoid getting punched. Later, he'll be amazed at your clones, but right now he's trying to survive. Eventually, Ortho comes to the rescue, and the two of you win the battle. As Idia makes his way over to you, you faint, and he begins to panic all over again.

-You're kept on house arrest in his room until you finish recovering, but it's not terrible. Idia keeps you entertained, and Ortho is an excellent helper. However, Idia's brain keeps churning out miserable thoughts. He feels useless, and he worries about your injuries. As you rest, he slowly lays his head down near your shoulder, just shy of touching you. He watches you sleep, silently wishing for you to get better soon. Maybe then, he won't feel like a failure.

Malleus:

-A fight like this is mere child's play to Malleus. Of course, most of your opponents flee the moment he comes close to them. Malleus is fascinated by your clones, and it's his curiosity that makes him fail to realize that you've been injured. When you fall into his embrace, you catch a brief glimpse of gathering storm clouds as your eyes flutter shut.

-You recover quickly, thanks to Malleus' magical prowess. He spends almost all of his time protectively curled around you, murmuring apologies for what happened. Malleus seems to be fine, but it hasn't stopped raining since you got hurt. Internally, his thoughts are spiraling. For a brief moment, he thought he'd lost you. You've brought joy to his lonely world, and the thought of you dying terrifies him. As you drift off to sleep in his arms, you hear him whisper that he'll never allow anyone to harm you again.

[lecsainz]

from pit stop to push-up

pairings: lando norris (platonic) x driver!reader

summary: you go to the gym "of your own free will" with lando.

authors note: I can say that I love writing about the reader driver and her friendship with the drivers. in my head, she and lando would be the most chaotic duo on the grid.

word count: 770

☆. . . masterlist!

Y/N groaned as she pulled herself out of bed, dreading the upcoming workout with her trainer. She knew it would be tough, but she also knew it was necessary if she wanted to stay in peak physical condition for the racing season.

As she made her way to the gym, she spotted her teammate Lando Norris chatting with some other athletes. She tried to slip past him unnoticed, but Lando spotted her and called out a greeting.

"Hey Y/N, what's up? Ready for some training?" he asked, grinning.

Y/N scowled. "I'm never ready for training. You know that, Lando. It's always a nightmare."

Lando laughed. "Ah, come on. It's not that bad. Besides, I hear your trainer has some new exercises that are supposed to be killer."

Y/N rolled her eyes. "Great. Just what I need."

They entered the gym and met up with their trainer, who greeted them with a wicked smile. Y/N knew she was in for a tough session.

As they started their workout, Y/N couldn't help but complain. She grumbled about the exercises, the weights, the reps, and everything in between. Lando just laughed and teased her, making her even more frustrated.

But as they neared the end of their session, things took a chaotic turn. Y/N was in the middle of a difficult set of squats when she suddenly lost her balance and stumbled. She crashed into Lando, who was doing pull-ups on a nearby bar, causing him to lose his grip and fall to the floor.

Their trainer rushed over to see if they were okay, but Y/N and Lando were too busy laughing to answer. They helped each other up and continued joking and teasing each other, making light of the accident.

As they left the gym, Y/N realized that despite the chaos and the tough workout, she had enjoyed herself. She felt grateful for the camaraderie she shared with her teammate and the support of her trainer.

"Same time next week?" Lando asked, still grinning.

Y/N groaned, but she couldn't help but smile. "Sure, why not? But maybe we should stick to individual workouts next time."

Lando just laughed. "Where's the fun in that?"

As Y/N and Lando finished their workout, they said their goodbyes and headed off in different directions. Y/N, thinking the training was over, started to head towards the exit, but her coach called her back.

"Hold on, Y/N. We still have one more exercise to do." Her coach insisted.

"Oh come on, coach! I'm already exhausted. Can't we just call it a day?" Y/N complained, already tired.

The coach finding amusement in the excuse she always gave and simply replied with the same thing after every training session. "Nope, we need to work on your endurance. Let's go, one more round."

Y/N groaned, but reluctantly followed her coach to the next exercise. As she started the workout, she couldn't help but complain. "Why do I even bother coming here? This is torture."

Your coach stated the obvious. "Because you want to be a better driver, right?"

Y/N joked. "Yeah, but I don't want to die trying."

Lando, who had come back to retrieve his forgotten phone from the gym locker, overheard Y/N's complaints and couldn't help but laugh.

"Come on, Y/N. You can do it. Don't be such a baby." Lando made a joke about his best friend.

"Easy for you to say, Mr. Fit and Fabulous. You probably do this in your sleep." She stuck her tongue out at him.

Lando struck a pose, flexing some of his muscles. "Hey now, I work hard for this body."

Y/N rolled her eyes, "Well, you can keep it. I'll take a pizza and a nap any day." saying dreamily.

Everyone laughed as Y/N finished up the workout, feeling both exhausted and relieved that it was over.

Y/N celebrated. "Finally! Can we go get some food now?"

"Sure, but don't forget to stretch first." The coach spoke, interrupting the celebration.

"Oh, come on! Can't I just skip it?" She said, trying to convince him.

"No, you can't skip it. You know the rules." The coach gave her a playful look.

Y/N grumbled as she begrudgingly started to stretch, but deep down she knew her coach was right. If she wanted to be the best driver she could be, she had to put in the work, no matter how tough it was.

[shhrrroooommmmmyyyyyy]

HB Generational Trauma: Paimon → Stolas

→ Octavia

*Before I get attacked, nothing I say is to defend the actions described. I am simply trying to explain and make sense of it.*

Many fans approach the topic of Stolas being a good or bad father with either black and white-good or bad or completely gray answers. The black and white are pretty straightforward, usually going something like "he says this but does this anyway" or "he's neglectful", which are all valid opinions here. As well as the gray opinions, usually saying "he really tries, he just doesn't get it right".

Honesty, I can't say I disagree with any of these opinions honestly. I don't have evidence to back this up, but I have a feeling I know where the writers are going with this. I think they will, maybe sometime soon after hearing via's line in the trailer, have Stolas sort of "wake up" in a sense and realize what exactly he does. Get hit by the good ol' self awareness train, if you will. It's called character development.

I've seen many people call this bad writing but I disagree. I think that's the direction they're going for Stolas's character development. I think with the episodes so spread out, people forget we're only three episodes away from only being halfway through the series as a whole. There's still plenty of room for development.

Anyways, back on topic. Let's look at Paimon and Stolas from the Circus episode. I love the Loo Loo Land parallel with it.

Paimon enjoying himself from home while Stolas is miserable and clearly doesn't want to be there. The only thing that gets him through it without crashing out is Blitzø. Paimon seems to not notice he's even there at all until he starts enjoying himself watching Blitzø. And when he figures out what's making him so happy, he literally buys Blitzø later to keep himself from having to deal with him all day. Of course Stolas is too oblivious and distracted by Blitzø to realize, but that makes complete sense seeing how oblivious he is as an adult.

So now let's look at Stolas and Octavia in the Loo Loo Land episode.

Stolas is enjoying himself, but actually present. Him actually being there is an improvement; however, Octavia's not enjoying herself. She already didn't want to go because she was too old to enjoy it. And on top of that, Stolas flirting with Blitzø the whole time made her uncomfortable (which he was also too oblivious to realize).

I think the parallels here are interesting. Overall I think the writers ave done an excellent job of writing generational trauma, hence the title of this post. Now let's look at Stolas' line from Western Energy:

This line made a slight change in their dynamic from my perspective. It's clear he loves her and would do anything to protect her. Much different from Paimon. I think he tries so hard to be better than Paimon that he subconsciously ends up doing what Paimon does. This is called the ironic process theory or ironic rebound (psychology nerd here, as you can tell). However, the difference between him and Paimon is that he apologizes and recognizes that he made a mistake. He's trying. And even so, what examples of a good dad would he have had growing up that would've guided him in the right direction?

Although he keeps making mistakes, he is still trying. He's not prefect. I think Via knows this; nevertheless, it's hard for her not to get frustrated at him for making them sometimes. Especially when he promised he would do something with her and didn't in Seeing Stars.

No matter the extremity of the efforts made toward doing so, generational trauma will never be completely healed in one generation (look at me using smart words). While Stolas has made a pretty big dent in the healing process, it takes more than one person to erase the trauma. Although Via is as far as the line will go with her being confirmed asexual, I think Stolas has done a lot more for Via than people realize.

I have a few notes about Blitz and Loona on this topic as well. I might wait till after Ghostfuckers in case it gives more info to put in that post

[peachy-panic]

The After Party

BBU Hollywood: Chapter 2

I guess this is a whole story now??? We'll see :)

Takes place after THIS.

WARNINGS: BBU, NONCON DRUGGING (LOTS OF IT), bad tripping, mentions of noncon, religious imagery and trauma, rich assholes and the hollywood elite

The tint on the windows doesn’t do enough to block the camera flashes as the limousine descends into the waiting crowd. Henry squints, turning his gaze forward and away. Beside him, Paul is on his phone, which is a mercy. His preoccupation means Henry can take these last few seconds to collect himself before the start of a very long night—as long as he is able to drown out the absent circles being traced on his upper thigh. Henry is so tired he thinks he might be able to drown out anything. If he only let his eyes close for a second or two, he thinks he might drift enough to—

A pinch on his leg—not hard, but firm enough to get his attention—pulls him back from the edge. Paul ends his phone call without a proper sign-off and shoves his phone into his pocket. Henry watches him carefully, assessing his mood. If the phone call was a bad one, it wouldn’t bode well for the rest of the night. But Paul seems to shrug it off easily as he produces a small, glass vial from inside his jacket. 

Henry grinds his back teeth but forces his expression to remain neutral. 

“Look alive, superstar,” Paul says, sprinkling a line of white powder across the side of his finger. “A lot of eyes on you tonight.”

Henry knows the routine, so he doesn’t hesitate when a finger is placed under his nose. He may even be grateful for it later, before the crash, when the dim lights inside the theater want to make his eyelids droop. For now the familiar sting in his sinuses elicits a few watery blinks. 

“Good boy.” Paul rubs a thumb gently under his eye to wipe away a bead of moisture before it can smudge the bright concealer keeping his dark circles out of sight. Henry lets himself be pulled into a kiss, closing his eyes on cue. It could almost be a comforting gesture of affection, if he lets himself believe it. “You did well today. You’ll do well tonight.”

It is not encouragement, but a command. Henry knows this but as he leans a cheek into the large palm that cradles it, he decides to let himself take small comforts where he can. Pretending, after all, is what Henry does best.

“You’re due for a reward. Maybe next weekend, we can take a trip. Just you and me, huh?” Paul says, smiling. “How does that sound?”

Henry fights to keep his expression in check, even as his stomach roils. Flashes of memory assault in a steady stream: the sticky sweetness of pineapple juice sucked from Paul’s fingers, a pill on his tongue (and another and another), the smell of chlorine and saltwater on Paul’s skin. 

“I’d like that,” Henry says.

His smile—the one that he spent months practicing and polishing and perfecting under the harsh fluorescent lights of the training facility—is plastered on for several seconds before the door swings open, exposing him to the awaiting crowd. 

The roar of sound and light and energy used to send his heart skittering. Now, he lets it wash over him as he steps one leg out of the car, then the other, raising a hand into a robotic wave, and he tell himself this is good. The screaming of the crowd is what he wants, what he needs, because Henry has been made for their adoration, and without it, he is nothing. Their attention is what makes him valuable. It’s what keeps him alive. 

Paul places a hand at the small of his back as he steps out beside him, and Henry’s shoulders roll instinctively at the touch. Shoulders back. Chin lifted. Smile bright. He knows this dance too well to let something like exhaustion make him miss a step. 

“Henry!” A faceless voice cries out from the crowd of photographers. “Give us a smile!”

His beaming smile turns toward the voice like a sunflower growing toward the light. The mechanical movement of his head on his shoulders makes him feel like one of the animatronic figures he was frightened of as a child, hiding his face against his mother’s chest at an amusement park he doesn’t remember the name of. A lifeless imitation of a real human being, uncanny in resemblance but with none of the light behind the eyes. What makes Henry so different from that, really?

***

By the time the film screening is over, and they step out of the theater and into the afterparty ballroom, Henry’s eyes burn with fatigue. The comedown snuck up on him well before the credits rolled, and it was all Henry could do to keep himself awake and aware, pinching his legs in the discrete darkness of the theater. He knows that Paul will pull him aside soon, into some corner booth or a bathroom stall, and give him another bump to get Henry through the rest of the event. He will need it, and at this moment, he craves it. 

Evening has long faded behind them, but the night is just getting started. 

After the second bump, the world moves by him too quickly. The party becomes little more than flashes of light and color, impressions of touch on his back, his arms, his neck, his face. Henry recognizes some of the faces; the usual parade of executives and A-listers that either greet him with hungry fascination or outright indifference. (He might prefer the latter if the fear of falling out of favor of someone’s attention hadn’t been so thoroughly trained into him). 

Eliza Darling is there, of course, dressed to the nines in an elegant red gown and long, black gloves, but she regards her co-star as little more than a prop, a breathing mannequin, as they are pushed together for photo after photo after photo. 

Once the press has gotten their fill, the cameras and media badges begin to filter out of the crowd. That’s always the first sign that the shift is coming. The night will become something different soon. Eliza leaves, too, hung on the arm of this week’s PR arm-candy, not before exchanging tipsy kisses on the cheek with Paul, and one for Henry as well. Just in case any cameras are still lurking nearby. 

It’s not long after that Henry is ushered into the backseat of a limousine. Paul is there, pressed against his side, but there are others as well. The other Hollywood high-rollers—studio executives, the upper echelon of producers on their payroll—and, of course, their contracted Companion stars at their sides, like ornately decorated shadows. Henry recognizes the others. It isn’t yet common practice to employ Companion labor in film and television, and some studios forbid it outright. Maxwell Entertainment has taken no such stance. 

Still, there are only a few of them in the business, and Henry knows each of them with some degree of intimate familiarity. 

Across from Henry and Paul sits Geoffrey Bellmonte, a sitting board member of Maxwell Entertainment, and nuzzled into his neck is a young man Henry knows as Aspen. Henry tilts his head to Paul's shoulder the way he knows he likes and tries to avoid both sets of eyes. 

It’s not often that Henry is made to perform with Aspen—at least not nearly as often as he is with some of the other favored Companions in the Inner Circle—and for this, he is grateful. They still spend plenty of time together in close quarters at events and afterparties like this one, and at each one Henry tries his best to fly under Aspen’s radar. 

He is a lithe, fox-faced beauty, all pointed features and long limbs. Henry knows that some of his features are the product of a customized plastic surgery plan, implemented before his final contract was ever signed, same as all of them, but there is an undeniable natural beauty underneath. The only thing sharper than his cheekbones is his whip-smart tongue. He gets away with more than most in his position. His cutting remarks and cold condescension—often aimed at Henry—are generally met with a level of endeared amusement from the Keepers. 

Several years ago, Aspen was the first contracted Companion to star in a major studio film. His contract used to belong to Paul himself, but everyone knows that Mr. Maxwell prefers to keep fresh talent cycling in. Nobody gets to stay under him for more than a few years if they’re lucky, but if they prove to be a fan favorite onscreen and an equally favored asset behind the scenes, their contract stays within the Inner Circle a little longer. 

It’s a widely known but unspoken truth that Aspen, growing closer to 30 with each passing day, is nearing the end of his welcome. 

After, when they are alone, Paul sometimes attempts to assuage Henry’s hurt feelings with silken promises that Aspen is only cruel to him because he’s jealous. Of Henry’s youth, of his beauty, of his time in the limelight. He sees in you an image of himself that he can never recreate, he tells him, as if someone else’s misery could somehow make Henry feel better. 

They arrive at Paul’s house in the hills a little after 2 a.m., where the exclusive after-after-party has already begun to trickle in. There will only be about thirty to forty people in attendance this time, and much of that crowd will end up dispersing into groups of two or three or more into guest bedrooms and balconies and hot tubs. 

Henry doesn’t know which he will end up in, and it does him no good to try and predict how the night will go ahead of time. 

***

Every light in The Hills House is programmed to change color at the click of a remote. Tonight, every inch is bathed in blood red. 

It’s exactly the kind of dramatic flair Paul Maxwell is known for, in his life and in his work. Henry thinks the red light and shadows make the house look like a nightmare in his memories. 

Still beaded in sweat from the brief three-way exchange he was pulled into on the living room floor, Henry sprawls among a tangle of bodies on the couch. One thigh is hooked over Paul’s lap, while his back leans against the broad chest of an older man he only ever sees at these kinds of parties. Fingers—he isn’t entirely sure whose—card through his damp hair, over and over. Is it pool water or sweat making the strands plaster to his head? He doesn’t remember, but he leans into the soft repetition, letting his eyes drift shut. 

How long has it been since he slept?

Call time was at six this morning—yesterday?—so that means transpo would have been outside to pick him up by five-thirty, and Henry would have had his alarm set by…

“Looks like someone is tapping out early.” Henry peels his eyes open at the saccharine voice, dripping with condescension. His tilted vision converges to form the smiling face of Aspen, who is draped over Geoffrey’s lap in the chaise across from him. “What’s wrong, Henry? Didn’t get enough beauty sleep?”

Paul’s hand lands heavily on his thigh, and the man pressed against his back rumbles with soft laughter. Geoffrey chuckles into the side of Aspen’s neck. The young man tilts his head to the side with practiced ease, opening himself to the affection, but his sharp eyes hold Henry’s the whole time. 

“Sorry,” Henry mutters, mostly for Paul’s benefit. The apology is met with a sharp squeeze, which Henry can interpret as either acknowledgement or warning. He will find out for sure later. 

“Looks like your boy could use another taste, Paulie,” the man under Henry says, the words vibrating through his upper body. 

“You offering?” 

Henry is jostled as the man reaches into his pocket for something just out of his line of sight. Whatever he holds up makes Paul’s eyes light with amusement. 

“How does he do with Lucy?”

Paul reaches over to scratch Henry’s belly, which makes him feel like a pet. “I think that’s a new one for you, sweetheart. Yeah?”

Henry doesn’t know what “Lucy” is, but almost all of his experience with drugs has been in Paul’s presence, so that must be true. He swallows, forcing himself to nod.

Paul’s eyes cut over his head, meeting Sal with a nod. “Go on, then.”

A hand from behind him taps twice on his cheek. “Open up,” he says. Henry obeys, and immediately a small tab that feels like paper is placed on his tongue. “Don’t swallow it. Just let it sit.”

Henry nods again, trying to hide his reaction to the bitter, sharp tang. 

The effect isn’t instantaneous, like it is with the bumps he takes off of Pauls’ fingers. For a long while, Henry lays there with his head on Sal’s lap, staring at the ceiling as the party moves around him. At some point, hands begin to wander again, sliding over his chest, stomach, legs, face, neck. 

Across from him, Geoffrey pulls Aspen into a deep, consuming kiss, but when Henry looks that way, he catches Aspen stealing glances at him. This time, it seems the usual coldness in his expression has been washed out by something he can’t quite identify.

***

Henry wakes up in hell.

It’s not the first time he’s had that thought upon waking, but it’s the first time it’s been true in such a literal sense. 

This is the hell from the Bible, the hell from his childhood, all fire and brimstone gnashing of teeth, and Henry has woken here, consumed by the flames. 

His limbs shoot out in every direction, flailing—or at least he means to? Is his body moving? There is something wrapped around him, suffocating him. Long cascading limbs. No, they’re tentacles. And he’s… He’s so hot. They’re killing him. He has to get free, free, free, free—

The flames stick to his skin like hot wax as he lands on the ground, soft and scratchy under his hands and knees. He crawls forward, desperate to escape the heat. He doesn’t know where he is and the ground gives beneath the weight of his palms, shifting between sand and concrete and carpet. 

Some part of him he doesn’t quite have access to knows there is water, and knows (hopes?) he is heading toward it. It is this thought alone that drags him forward, down winding tunnel-like hallways. Water. Water. 

Water. 

Water. 

Water. 

Light floods his vision. Henry spins around, thinking he’s been caught (by who? Who is he running from?), but he sees his own hand resting on a lightswitch. And then, much to his horror, he watches his fingers melt down the wall like candle wax. That can’t be good. Can it?

He doesn’t care, though, because then there is water! Water! He found it! It runs cold and beautiful over his hands, and then his arms, and then Henry is rubbing it all over his body, splashing it into his hair, on his face. He has never felt happier than at this moment. 

“Shit,” someone says behind him, and Henry watches as the word spells out in front of him in big, white, puffy letters. S H I T. He reaches for them and they dissipate like clouds of smoke. 

“Shit,” Henry whispers. It echoes through the cave behind the waterfall. “I found a waterfall,” he remembers to tell the person standing behind him. He feels it’s important to tell him this. Who is that anyway? Should he know him? “Do you want some water?”

But then the water stops, and Henry is so sad. 

“It’s all over the floor,” The Voice says again. 

Henry looks down at that, and the floor around his feet is squirming with neon-pink, rice-sized worms. They wriggle under his toes, some of them crawling up his ankles, cold and wet and slimy.

Henry begins to cry. 

“Shhhh. Henry, shh.” The shhhhhhhhh moves through the cave like wind, Henry can feel it blowing through his hair. He can’t stop crying. “Henry, listen to me. Look at me, please. You need to be quiet.”

Cold blocks of ice touch his cheeks, Henry leans into the touch but they melt quickly into the warmth of skin. Hands. Somebody’s hands. 

He follows the movement as the hands turn his head, and in front of him stands a tall, skinny man with a fox face. The fox is talking to him. Henry’s eyes are wide, but he can feel the tears burning his face like raining fire, and then he remembers he’s in hell. He lets out a wail. 

The fox says “shit” again. The words don’t appear this time. The bathroom door slams shut. When did they leave the cave?

“Henry, you’re okay. Can you take a few deep breaths for me?”

He listens, picturing his lungs like big, fat balloons inside his body, inflating his chest to twice its size with each breath. The air feels good. 

“Can I have my water back?” Henry asks the fox man. 

“You’re currently covered in it. Maybe let’s try inside the shower this time.”

The shower sounds nice. Put me in the shower, please. Thank you. You have to remember your manners, Handler Rex said. Please and thank you, ma’am and sir, you have to remember your place. 

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Just close your eyes and feel the water for a minute. Try to keep breathing.”

The waterfall is back and he is standing directly beneath the stream. It’s nice. 

***

Henry opens his eyes and he’s on the bathroom floor. Aspen sits in front of him in nothing more than a pair of light-blue boxer briefs. 

“Don’t be mean to me,” Henry says. “You’re always mean to me.”

He can’t tell what face Aspen makes at that, because colors start to smear together, dripping like an ice cream cone on a hot day. 

“Maybe your skin is too thin.”

Henry looks down at his arms, turning them over and over. He can see the blood and bones and muscle and sinew beneath the paleness. Shit. Maybe he’s right. 

“Not your actual skin, numbskull. Jesus Christ.”

“Jesus Christ,” Henry echoes in a whisper. He doesn’t think he’s in hell anymore, so that name is probably okay to say here.

“The good news is you probably won’t remember most of this in the morning.”

“You looked like a fox.”

Aspen raises an eyebrow, and it keeps going higher and higher until it disappears into his hairline. Henry blinks and it’s back to normal. 

“A fox, huh? Are you hitting on me now?”

Henry pinches his face together. “No?”

“I know, Henry.”

“Okay. Why are you mean to me, Aspen?”

“Oh god. I’m way too sober for this.”

“Aspen?”

“Yeah, I’m still here.”

“Okay.”

“You’re really fucked up, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I’m really fucked up.”

“Look, I… I’m sorry, okay? About this. I didn’t mean to prompt that asshole to drug you. If anything, I thought he would just give you another bump to get you through the last couple hours. I didn’t… I knew Paul would get mad if you started snoring on Sal’s lap in the middle of the party.”

There’s too many words. The white, bubble letters try to spell them out, but they start popping like balloons before they can finish a sentence. Henry stares after them, trying to make sense of what’s happening. 

“I don’t really know what you’re saying,” Henry tells him honestly.

“Yeah, I know. That’s why I can say it.”

“Am I going to feel like this forever?” He thinks he might cry again if that’s true. 

“No, Henry.”

H E N R Y. The bubble letters don’t pop this time. They float up and up and up until they disappear into the sky. He doesn’t think that’s his name, but he’s talking so nice and gentle to him, so he doesn’t bother correcting him. 

“It will be over soon. Just close your eyes. I’ll stay right here.”

*****

TAG LIST:

@hold-him-down - Let me know if you wanna be added! :)

[marygih]

Julius

Sometimes I feel like no one really understood Julius' proposal as a character.

He was not created to be a romantic partner, and his age is intentional, precisely to block the possibility of any romance. Basically Julius exists so that we know that Horace is gay, without Ransom needing to show it explicitly. It's the writer's way of saying "Yes, he's gay, I left that implied, but I'm not going to canonize it explicitly and you won't be able to ship him canonically either."

Julius represents that impossible crush that some teenagers have at some point in their lives. They weren't meant to be a couple, all of this is just to show us that Horace really likes boys. He's just dazzled by Julius, the two of them could never be together, Ransom did this on purpose.

Now, since I'm talking about Julius, I'm going to talk about something that's been bothering me for a while.

It's no secret that I don't particularly like Julius, his arrogant personality irritated me deeply, but I'm still defending him on a crucial point.

I hate how some defame him for no reason, I've seen Julius implicitly treated as a predator " omg Julius who is 18 years old didn't dump Horace, how can he let a kid flirt with him? It's so suspicious of Julius to allow a kid to flirt with him!"

Honestly, this is so dishonest! He probably didn't even notice the flirting, Horace is a complete stranger to him, there is nothing to prove that Julius is also gay, the fucking world was ending, his life and that of his mother were in danger, do you really think he would be wasting his time paying attention to an unknown child complimenting his clothes?

Julius was in such a fucked up situation, he literally had the weight of the world on his shoulders and he faithfully believed that he was the protagonist of the prophecy. And then he almost died several times, and witnessed his own mother die. Definitely not the mood for a romance.

Evil is in the eye of the beholder. Not for a single second did Julius hint that he was interested in Horace. There is a single scene of them holding hands, just after Julius lost his mother and Horace was the only person to comfort him. Horace stood by him at the worst moment of his life, but Horace is just a stranger, Julius is broken.

When they meet, Horace tries to start a conversation and Julius doesn't even pay attention to him, and then all their interactions are in action scenes where they are both fighting to survive.

When Miss Petrel dies, Julius's world comes crashing down. And Horace is the only one who offers her comfort, it's a scene of consolation and not a fucking romance. It is always Horace who tries to help the boy, he is the one who approaches, Julius never shows anything, and I dare say that if the situation were the other way around, with Horace losing Miss Peregrine, Julius wouldn't be as attentive or supportive.

So this thing about Julius being wrong in letting Horace "flirt with him" doesn't make sense. Definitely the last thing on Julius' mind after seeing his mother murdered was worrying about a preteen he just met being too nice to him.

It's so easy to defame the character by taking his scenes out of context.

He and Horace ride together✨/ fleeing from monsters to save their own lives. ☠️

They hold hands on the train✨/ After Julius sees his mother's murder and is very traumatized since his life was super safe and this is literally the first trauma in his life. ☠️

Horace takes care of Julius's wounds✨/ he's the only one who understands anything about peculiar medicine and Julius is literally gray and dying. ☠️

Horace is at Julius and Enoch's bedside in the infirmary✨/ Julius is in a coma.☠️

Duct all this: Julius has no romantic intentions towards Horace, he definitely didn't notice the flirting, he is VERY traumatized, grieving and drowning in his own pain. He's clearly depressed as his old speech about being a great hero capable of saving the world from Caul drastically changes to "I'm disposable."

I don't like Julius as a character (for the same reason I don't like Horace from the old testament) arrogance and lack of character development. Even though I don't have much empathy for Julius, I came to his defense in this matter. He literally did nothing, I can criticize his actions , not something he didn't do.

In another context, this "attitude" of Julius would really be suspicious and problematic, but definitely not in this situation, you can't blame someone for something he didn't even realize was happening. With the world literally ending, people you love dying, definitely the last thing you're going to pay attention to is some unknown teenager praising you and offering condolences.

[gadriezmannsgirl]

Male and female Barca players are now playing at the same time as females are getting recognition in the football industry. Pedri and reader (who is a three time ballon d’or winner and two time golden girl winner for Barca) start fooling around, to which reader ends up pregnant. When she finds out she doesn’t tell anyone and keeps the secret for two months (she is still playing, since she’s really good she able to make sure she doesn’t hurt herself or the baby). Pedri decides to go check up on her as well as to see if she’s ok, since she’s been really quiet at practices and everyone noticing that she’s not her usual happy self. She then tell him the news (despite thinking he would reject the baby, since he says he doesn’t want a relationship and doesn’t really want kids) however, she gets the opposite reaction and the support from him, as well as him scolding her for playing two months straight despite being pregnant. Two years later they are at the Barca stadium (idk if it is called camp nou or not, however you can name it the original) celebrating her and his champions league win and they tell the world the two little angel they have and play with their kids, as well as everyone pointing out her ring on her finger.

Not The Best Start - P.G8

Summary: Random hookups can lead to something more.

You knew what you were getting into when you felt his lips collide with yours for the first time; you knew he didn't want a serious relationship, both of you so young with only twenty-two years.

P whole life ahead, your whole career in front of you and it all crashed down when you saw that little stick with the words pregnant on it.

You laughed, you screamed and you cried.

You didn't wanted to give up on football not when it has finally broke the stereotypes and women could train and workout along the men team, both being treated as equals by everyone, media, fans and galas.

You broke the stereotype when you won two years in a row at the age of twenty, a Balloon D'Or Femení and two years before that, two Golden Girls, all of them at the club of your dreams, FC Barcelona. You, along your teammates were and are inspiration to the little girls who liked football and wanted to be like you when they got older.

You had so much to achieve... And you got pregnant. And best news, you weren't in an established relationship with the dad of your baby.

And the baby daddy was none other than Pedro González López, better known as Pedri, number 8 of the Barça's male team and also the 21 of the Spanish team. The man, who everyone loved, screamed and prayed nothing that bad happened to him.

He was also starting his career and you couldnt do that to him. If you had to stop your career, then it would be just yours, because youre not as selfish as youd like to be and neither wanted to make him choose, mostly because you wouldnt like to hear how he would choose his career over a few hook ups that ended up badly. He wasnt ready to settle down, he said it himself. And nothing can tie down anyone.

Thats how you hided it, you didnt tell anyone; not even to your best friend, that you were expecting a little one, especially because you didnt know how people would react and because you wanted to enjoy the little time you had left for football before your belly became noticeable and force you do some motherhood leave.

But as a result, you started distancing yourself from your teammates, from the guys of the male team, shutting every hang out down and just being in your own little world. Which you didnt know but it grabbed a certain Canario's attention.

"Aitana" Pedro called "Is everything okay with Y/L/N?" He looked towards where you, Ronald, Lewy and Mapi were training.

The brunette girl shrugged her shoulders "I really don't know, Pedri. She has been in her own world, we try to talk to her but she backs out again and again"

Pedri sighed heavily, he hated seeing you like this. Truth is, you have been too busy pushing everything and everyone out that you were also pushing him out, when in fact, he had missed you deeply the past few weeks and he longed to see you, spend some time with you just chatting or making a new recipe you wanted to give a try.

He was comfortable with you, he loved being around you and the first week you haven't reached out for him, he was confused but let it go thinking you needed some alone time, still he kept on texting you. And when he saw you didn't replied his messages, didn't answered his calls and made no attempt to look out for him, he started to feel his chest heavy and soon he got the news you had left Spain because of a family emergency.

Now that you were back, he tried to talk to you but you kept on getting away and with your guys's busy schedules, he hasn't been able to make the effor he would like to do.

"Training's done! We can go home now and girls, good luck on tomorrow's match!" Pedro heard your coach said as all of you smiled and thanked his support. You inmediately went to the girls bathroom so Pedro couldn't chase you and when he was done with himself you were already gone.

"¡Puta madre, joder!" (Holy shit, fuck!) He said frustrated to no one in particular

"Hey, Pedri. Are you coming to the match tomorrow?" Ona asked him with a small smile

"Yes, of course" This was his chance to talk to you.

...

"Another goal from Barcelona's 7, the amazing Y/N! The Camp Nou is roaring along her!"

"That goal was beautiful and look at her doing her freeze signature, her teammates joining her and look at that! Half Camp Nou joined her too!"

"The power this girl has is insane, another hat trick added to Y/L/N's long list!"

And that night you girls won, Pedri along his brother watching you with a long smile on their faces. Pedri told his brother he would get down to congratulate all of you girls when he saw you getting out of the changing rooms

"Y/L/N!" You freezed when you heard his voice and then picked up your pace making Pedri follow you "Wait, I need to talk to you!" Eventually he catched up on you "Hola"

You stayed quiet just looking at him

"How are you?" Nothing "You did great today" Still nothing "Is something wrong? I've been trying to contact you but you keep on distancing yourself. We all have noticed, we are worried, I'm worried Y/N, we were good one day and the other-"

"I'm pregnant" You said cutting him off

"What?"

"I'm pregnant" You repeated "and it's yours" Now it was his turn to not say anything "That's why I have been distant, I'm trying to get my head around it and I know you may not want it but I'll keep it and you don't have to worry about it, if you don't want to... Like... I know you aren't ready to settle down and a baby is a huge responsability and I know you don't have feelings for me in that kind of way" You laughed nervously "I have been trying to know how to say this to you since well you're the father of the baby but I totally understand if-"

Now it was his turn to shut you up, however he did it differently.

You were shocked when you felt his lips on top of yours and his arms around your body bringing you into him.

"Gracias" He said smiling "Making me a dad, you're incredible, bonita!" You were confused "What were you thinking tho? Playing football around while being pregnant? You know what could happen if you get fouled or something?!"

"I-"

"Y deja de decir tantas locuras" (And stop saying nonsensed things) He whispered against your lips "We'll be parents" He pecked your lips once again "And a little thing, I have been in love with you for a long time now" You smiled

"I don't want to tie you down or pressure you with this, two months ago you weren't sure about having a baby until you were twenty-seven!"

"Number over here, another number over there, it doesn't matter anymore. We'll have our baby, together. Like a couple if you want"

You smiled "Of course I do" He smiled

"Then I'm glad you had THE greatest performance ever because that will be your last one for now"

"Ni de coña, Pedro. I still have more months to go before baby gets bigger"

"We'll see about that"

... TWO YEARS LATER ...

"Barcelona, winners of the Champions League!"

"Both, female and male team have outdone themselves for this; bringing to the Camp Nou, not only both LaLiga's, Copa del Rey and la Reina but also Champions League. What a season!"

"Ready for the show, bonita?" Your fiancé, Pedro asked you with a smile on his face as he held Alba on his arms as you held, Matías. You smiled at your twins and at your fiancé.

"Ready"

You both got in line with your respective teams to step into the Camp, both kids in each others arms. You were presenting your babies to the world after two years and not only your babies but also your relationship with Pedro.

You had to fake an injury to be able to do your motherly leave and not be pressured by the media constantly, having a whole year off, doing some training at home and dribbling with Pedro in your backyard. You were back this season and you still got it, helping your team win three titles in a single season.

It was a bit hard with the kids and the travelling from both sides but you made it work always. And no one suspected a thing.

Until now.

You received congratulations from both teams and your staff while headed to do some interviews with your babyboy whilst Pedri was with your babygirl. Both kids had a respective parent jersey number and both of your last names together.

Questions were thrown left to right but you didn't answered the ones about your private life or baby's like their names, people can guess. After a long while of press (The one where you received a lot of praise for your looks now in motherhood and for your crazy skills at football), you were able to reunite with your lover and babygirl.

"It was a craziness" He said making you laugh as you peck his lips

"It was but nothing we can't handle" You say and he laughs nodding when Matías started to fuss as his eyes were glued to the ball "¿Jugamos, mi vida?" (Wanna play, my love?)

"Si" He said smiling at you as you left him on the floor and soon Alba was groaning too

"Yo también" (I do too)

"Venga pues, vamos a jugar" (C'mon then, let's play) "Hey" Pedro called you making you turn around "Te quiero y gracias, bonita" (I love you and thank you)

"Y yo a ti, cariño" (And I you, darling) You smiled into the kiss, Pedri pulled you in to before making your way with your twins.

At the end of the day, everyone, fans and those who weren't fans, were going crazy at the amount of content they were getting with their now favorite couple and family.

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviypedrisbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld @http-isabela

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

I would love to have a King x reader (female reader if you are ok with that) where the reader is a mythical zoan type very similar to Kaido’s mythical zoan but because it was a fruit made by Dr Vegaounk, the reader ends up with a dark green dragon instead. King’s just infatuated with the reader and the reader knows it but won’t say anything. The reader is fairly new to the Beast Pirates and Kaido puts King in charge of making the reader feel welcome. Thanks in advance if you are able to do this!!

Imagine having a dragon smile fruit

This led me down an interesting line of thought. How would King act around his crush. He's a deeply traumatized individual, but he hides it well. King has like zero emotional intelligence, he never learned how to really deal with them. Also, I'm making the reader around the same size as King for reasons.

This ended up being kinda long.

Kaido: I'm told you have a devil fruit.

You: it's a smile fruit, sir, Dr. Vegapunk made it for me.

Kaido: Vegapunk *casts a glance at king, but can't see his emotions due to that damn mask* when did he make it for you?

You: a few years back upon my request, he owed me a favor.

Kaido: may I see?

You: we'll need to go outside, I would hate to destroy your lovely house.

Kaido: Ookay?

Outside

You: *transforms into a large emerald green dragon with pitch black fur, talons, and horns.*

Kaido: Worororo, we're gonna be unstoppable!

King: ( 💖0💖 ) !!

You: So I can get settled in?

Kaido: yes, Queen! Get their rooms ready, put them in the east wind of my castle.

You: absolutely not, I refuse to work with Queen, he's annoying.

Queen: EHH! Annoying! Who are you calling an idiot, you moron. You wanna go! *Starts to climb up on one of the coils of your body*

You: *flicks him off* And loud.

Queen: *skips like a rock over the ocean towards mainland Wano and disappears with a twinkle*

Kaido: Would you prefer Jack?

You: Jack is too unpredictable, plus I'm not a fan of the baby bangs he's sporting, they make me wanna bully him. King seems tolerable though, he's quiet which is preferable if I have to deal with a man.

King: 😱💢

Kaido: Very well, wouldn't want you to lose your temper and kill one of them. I need all three of them... well actually with you here, I might not.

You: I don't want a position of responsibility, those usually come with a lot of paperwork. I want money, food, a place to crash, and to fight, and when I’m not doing any of those to lounge in comfort.

Kaido: and you shall have anything you desire. King take them to the Black Tortoise wing.

King: I think they'd appreciate the views and quiet of the Blue Halls in the Vermilion Bird wing. You yourself once told me your dragon enjoys the open sky.

Kaido: how thoughtful King, to share your Vermilion Bird wing with our new recruit.

King: such a valuable member of the crew deserves the best we have to offer, especially one with a power so similar to your own.

Kaido: then can I trust them to you?

King: Of course.

The next day

King: how are you liking the Blue hall? Is it to your liking?

You: It's almost perfect, it just needs some personal touches.

King: I'll set up an appointment for our artisans to come over to receive instructions on what you want.

You: don't you have an assistant for that?

King: no? Are you volunteering?

You: hmm, only when I'm bored.

King: very well, in the meantime care to join me for a training session in the gym? *Hoping to show off his strength and physique for you*

You: Sure, let me change into something more breathable.

At the gym

King: would you spot me?

You: sure?

King: *lifting way more weight than he usually does while trying to keep his face as neutral as possible.*

You: *not sure how you'd be of any help to him if he actually needed help*

Queen: *leans over to Jack to shit talk* is it me, or is that feather-brained idiot trying to impress the newbie?

Jack: Yeah, he's even puffing up his wings and fire to make himself appear bigger.

Maria: right? And you you see the way he looks at them.

Queen: he's clearly displacing his affections for Kaido on them, probably they're more attainable to him than Kaido.

Kaido: *leans in* he's just not my type what can I say? Although, he does have those big titties like I like.

You: I'm gonna go get a water bottle, you want one?

King: sure *waits for you to leave before turning to his crew members* what the fuck are you jack asses whispering about over there?

Queen: You like (y/n) right?

King: what? No, they just got here, I don't even know them.

Kaido: she doth protest too much, methinks.

King: ugh, you all are seeing things.

Maria: yeah, we see you making bedroom eyes at (y/n).

Queen: Don't act like you're not, look at yourself, you're all puffed up like you're a horny teenager all over again.

King: *flattens his feathers* shut up dickhead.

You: *comes back in the room* I got us a few waters!

King: *puffs up again and realizes they're right.

Yamato: *peaking out from one of the floorboards* that explain why he wanted them in the Vermilion Bird wing with him.

King: *Puts his foot on the board and pushes it down*

That evening after dinner

Kaido: did we really upset you earlier? You seem like you're still... huffy like you were in the gym.

King: I'm disgusted with myself for being attracted to a human.

Kaido: *nods his head empathetically* I know the feeling bud. From what information that I have gathered about them, they seem like a decent human. They were once instrumental in the escape of a slave rebellion in the Ballywood Kingdom and Vodka Kingdom. Both of which were predominately composed of non-humans.

King: really?

Jack: yeah, they came to us through a recommendation of one of contacts in the Ryugu Kingdom.

You: wha'cha talking about?

King: *puffs up and feels his embarrassment and panic well up in his chest* Nothing!

You: *squints at him in suspicion* Really? Because I don't believe you.

King: Are you calling me a liar?

You: I ain't callin' you a truther, big man. Now spill the beans, what were y'all whispering about?

King: *his heart flutters happily when you call him 'big man' * Kaido told us you helped in some slave rebellions.

You: Oh yeah, I have quite a few tales from that time of my life.

King: If we're going to work together we should know more about you. So if you wouldn't mind, could you tell us those stories?

Kaido: *subtly gives him an encouraging slap on the back and a wink*

Queen: *whispers* fuckin' simp!

King: *makes Queen's cigar erupt in fire*

List of Up-and-coming works

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[alexiaputellasera]

You can find my writings on wattpad.

Rehab Chapter One.

Every professional female athlete knows that sound, the agonising cry from a team mate who is now sprawled across the floor clutching their knee tears streaming down their face. Trainers and physios running from every angle with concern warped on their faces.

July 2022, London England.

The Spanish women's national team are training for the euros to start in just one day when an agonising howl is heard in the penalty area of a shooting drill.

The players look over to see Alexia Putellas their countries hero laying on the floor in floods of tears. Physios immediately surround her calming her down and start what is known as a Lachman test to see the integrity of the anterior cruciate ligament followed by a shake of the head towards the teams national manager.

Team mates have now made their way over to Alexia who is heard telling staff, "I felt it pop, no one touched me I was shooting" her eyes brimmed with tears. She knew, she knew her tournament was over with one day remaining before their journey was to begin.

Staff assisted her up and immediately took her to the medical room, she was closely followed by Mapi her best friend who held her hand whilst they conducted further testing.

Her knee now swollen where the blood has rushed to the joint in a reaction to the injury and now rapidly mobility was getting stiffer by the minute. Crutches were now being passed to her by the medical staff and a van was waiting to collect her to return to the team hotel where she was currently staying.

Alexia was a shell of herself from just hours ago, barely speaking a word. Team mates arriving constantly to just pop in and say hello to let her know they were thinking about her.

Hours later after they got the news her mother and Alba arrived by her side, this is when the Spanish midfielder really broke down. She had just had the season of her life and was determined to win the euros after all the pain and suffering the national team squad had faced this was just another reason she should never of caved and come back to join up with her team. She should have listened to the doubt in her head.

Sleep was difficult she had her knee propped up under some pillows and had yet to hear from her girlfriend who was let know by Mapi what had happened earlier.

3am rolls around and she receives a FaceTime call from her seemingly drunk girlfriend who doesn't even mention the injury just that she wishes she was here to take care of her and that she missed sex. Alexia didn't usually mind these calls but not today she needed her on a less physical level and more of an emotional level. The FaceTime was ended by Alexia after her girlfriend Olga had crashed out on the bed at their home in Barcelona leaving Alexia to hang up feeling worse than she already did.

She had texted her manager Jona declaring she was 'done with football and to buy a new midfielder'. At this moment in time she was done, she didn't want to conquer that steep mountain of rehab and hard work and that same question had repeatedly popped into her head 'why me?'.

Alexia woke with puffy eyes and a ringing head, today was game day and she was going to watch before flying back to Barcelona for the big operation and to start the recovery process.

Grabbing the crutches and already struggling with it she threw her legs over the side of the bed and got up to get ready for the day. A small knock on her door and it opening slowly because heavens forbid they would be allowed to lock their door on international duty  and Mapi appeared with a small pitiful smile on her face.

"Bon dia hermana are you ready for breakfast?".

"Si" was all that came out of Alexias mouth before she moved slowly over to the wardrobe to grab some Spain gear and joined Mapi in the elevator.

Spain would play Finland today in their opening match and were one of the favourites to win the entire tournament, breakfast was full of loud noise everyone ready for the opening game.

Alexia was joined by Jenni and Misa two of her close friends on the team who didn't really know what to say so tried to act as normal as they could but she didn't laugh instead she sat there quietly sipping away at her coffee and barely touching her eggs.

The girls all got on the coach and made their way to the stadium, Alexia sat near the front tears now brimming she could hear everyone getting into game mode and that broke her heart even more. She shoved her AirPods in and listened to some music looking out the window watching them travel through the English city.

Sat pitch side was horrible, the game was frustrating a lot harder than it really should have been, the injury of Alexia seemingly stuck in the other athletes heads. Aitana scored and dedicated her goal to Alexia who loved the sentiment although it made her sadder than she had ever been before.

After the game Alexia went straight to her room not wanting to join in the celebrations for a win she didn't even participate in.

After what felt like an eternity she fell asleep knowing tomorrow she would fly home and start the next processes in her recovery knowing an operation was imminent.

Morning came and went and Alexia said goodbye to all of her team mates, they were sad to see her leave but sadder because of her injury most of them embracing her for longer than normal. The athletes did not want to be left with the Spanish federation without their loyal captain to protect and guide them, she was like their secret manager they mainly listened to what she said and not the idiot that was Jorge Vilda and his stupid arse.

The flight was a mere 2 hours long and Alexia fell asleep in pure exhaustion. She was met by her mother and Alba at the airport who could see their loved one was deeply hurting but hurried her into their car after they saw journalists spot her and would begin to hound her knowing her mental state was vulnerable they got her safely away.

Back at her home Alexia laid on the sofa hands over her face whilst for the first time she truly broke down, her mother held her and Alba whispered positivity into her ear, completely falling on deaf ears.

The front door opened and Olga arrived by Alexias side bringing her into a deep hug "how are we feeling Bebe?".

"Like shit Olga".

Olga screwed her face up at the comment and Alexia immediately apologised "lo siento mi amor I'm just frustrated".

Olga smiled and kissed her forehead, usually Alexia likes this sign of affection but not today, Olga hadn't bothered to contact her this was the first time she had asked her because she was too busy out partying at her club.

The tension in the room was thick, Alexia asked if she would join her at the hospital tomorrow to which Olga declined saying she had an important meeting. Alexia felt her stomach drop, she had deep feelings for this girl it wasn't quite love yet but while Olga loved her in a physical manner it wasn't matched by the level of manner that Alexia distributed towards her, hence the heavy imbalance in the relationship.

"We're coming carino" Eli gestures towards her and Alba. Alexia smiled at the words and flicked the tv on to watch yesterdays match, hell if she couldn't play she sure was going to analyse the shit out of it.

The day went slowly, the anticipation building up for tomorrow and the new fear setting in that she wouldn't be anywhere near as good as before.

Olga had already made dinner plans with her friends so Alexia was left alone for the evening to fight the fight that was now going on in her head. Moving about the apartment was difficult the crutches kept catching on everything and this made Alexia angrier by the second, in the end she resided to her bed defeated and sad about the position she was currently in.

Messages worldwide were now streaming in to support the captain and she had several missed calls from the Barcelona higher ups including her team manager Jona who had assured her everything was going to be fine and that he could never replace her. She snorted at that last comment and slammed her phone down on the side, knowing she was mentally done today she gave up and fell asleep.

Morning came and Alexia was a bundle of nerves, Olgas arms draped over her chest. She didn't even hear the Madrid girl come home last night she must of been exhausted.

Today was the day she would have her left knee operated on, she got up and made herself busy, making coffee and bringing Olga tablets and a fresh bottle of water for what she presumed would be a hangover any minute now.

Sitting at the kitchen counter drinking her coffee Olga emerged from her pit kissing her girlfriend good morning and pouring herself some fresh coffee.

"Good morning Bonita are you ready for today?".

"Si Bebe I'm nervous" Alexia had a tear in her eye but Olga didn't notice she was too busy replying to a text from her friends. "You will be fine Bonita and I'll be here to look after you" she kissed Alexias lips and made her way to the bathroom to shower for her day ahead.

A hard lump in her throat Alexia half knew that Olga wasn't going to be the one she needed to do this recovery process with, leaving Alexia ready to quit the game she loved altogether.

An hour later Alexias mother and sister arrived to take her to the hospital, once there a lot of different people spoke to her she didn't absorb any of that information and luckily her mother was paying attention.

As they prepped her for surgery that's when she became emotional, her mother holding her hand and kissing her, her sister calmly stroking her face but also visibly upset because her sister was hurt. Doctors entered the room all talking in fast Spanish and drawing lines on the areas that surrounded her knee ready for the operation.

As the medication kicked in Alexia started to relax and then everything went black.

As she opened her eyes there was a slight twinge in her left knee, she was still hooked up to the machines. Her mother was asleep holding her hand and Alba was in the corner sat on her phone waiting for the midfielder ti wake up.

"Ale!" Alba squealed coming over to hug her, Eli woke up at this noise and gently kissed her daughters hands receiving a small smile from her eldest daughter.

"How are you feeling?" Eli asked quizzically.

"Okay, but I'm guessing that's the drugs talking" they all laughed at that comment.

"Did it go okay?".

"Si we believe so carino, we will know more in the next few days".

Alexia felt the panic lower from her chest taking in a deep breath, she knew the road to recovery was going to take maybe over a year and that was incredibly daunting for her. Because of the length of time and also because she wasn't sure if it was what she wanted right now, she felt very lost in that moment.

Alexia was a pioneer for women's football and had fought tooth and nail to be the very best in the game and the hard work had come in many trophies and adoring fans recognising her efforts and achievements. Where did she go from here?

Alexia is discharged from hospital and returns home, Olga is now back trying to make small talk but getting nothing in response, Alexia didn't want to talk, talking would not help the situation she was in right now. She was ready to give it all up and disappear away from prying eyes and away from everyone she felt she had let down by sustaining this injury. She looked at her knee in anger the same left leg that had given her the life she had giving out on her before one of the biggest tournaments of her life.

Not giving any kind of response Olga decided she would go out and in such a decline in their relationship would begin. Olga had never been a supportive girlfriend as such she was also headstrong like Alexia and was on her own path. She was rarely at a game due to her own commitments and usually Alexia didn't mind as the sex made up for it. But now as much as she kept pushing Olga away she needed her right now.

A week passed and no one has heard from the Catalan star, Olga hasn't updated anyone probably because she hasn't been around. Alexia choosing to ignore all contact and wallow in self pity over her injury. But the timing of this injury and where she was right now was crucial as she had to began her rehab to progress to the next step but she hadn't she had locked herself away and laid on the couch all week watching crappy television and watching her team lose to Germany much to her annoyance.

At the end of week one she is ready to give it all up her knee was stiff and sore and she was rapidly losing muscle. Olga was almost a figment of her imagination going out for dinner and coming home at all hours of the morning. She had also tried to initiate some physical connection but was rejected by Alexia who felt like a failure at the moment in that department.

Barcelona staff and her mother and sister were worried sick and together they joined and came up with some kind of solution that could possibly pull her out of her slump and put her back on the right path.

It was early Thursday morning when there was a loud knock on Alexias door, Alexia used her crutches to steady herself and made her way over. Opening the door she was met by a face she did not recognise, but this women was wearing a Barcelona muscle top and shorts so she must of been sent by the club.

"Hola Alexia I'm Jay I've been sent by the club to help start processing your rehab".

"No" was all that came out of the captains mouth and she began to close the door before a foot stopped it and Jay slid past her and made her way into her home.

"Wait a minute you can't just..".

"Alexia with all due respect I've been sent by the club and you have a contract to uphold which includes major injuries and rehabilitation".

Alexia was stunned at this women's abruptness, Jay or what she had referred to herself as was quietly looking around the apartment taking it all in. Alexia took the moment to graze her eyes over the women, she was English based on her accent, quite tall about 5 foot 9 Alexia would say, tanned skin with tattoos clearly on show, long blonde hair, very blue eyes and very muscular. If Alexia wasn't so pissed or in the situation she was in she probably would have brought the girl a drink.

"Jay is it? I don't need help.. I'm fine here thank you I'll make contact with the club when you leave" Jay laughed which immediately pissed Alexia off.

"Alexia, the club has been trying to contact you I'm your last resort. But I will take care of all your rehabilitation and nutrition to help you get back to wherever you want to be".

Alexia scoffed and rolled her eyes, Jay caught this immediately "problem?".

"You are my problem now get out of my home" Alexia scolded.

"No" was the answer and a smile appeared before she rudely went and sat in Alexias living room.

Alexia hobbled behind her ready to engage in any kind of war she could but she stumbled bringing Jay immediately to her feet and over to assist Alexia. Jays warm hands came to Alexias waist to stabilise her and for a second their eyes made contact before Alexia came to her senses pushing the Barca staff member off of her.

Sitting down Alexia asked why she had never seen her before at Barca. "I've been brought in just for you, they know you are struggling and I want to help, so let's begin".

The interaction was interrupted by the door opening and closing, Olga appeared and spotted Jay on the sofa but wasn't concerned due to her attire but she didn't take a moment to rake her eyes over the girl.

"Hola" leaning down to shake Jays hand who reciprocated the gesture.

Jay went on to explain why she was there but could tell Olga wasn't really interested making small talk and announced that she would be going out for dinner with her friends causing Alexia to roll her eyes, Jay caught this interaction and could see this relationship wasn't working but it was not her place to overstep.

"Alexia do you have any questions for me?" Jay asks trying to interrupt the tension that has settled amongst her and Olga.

"Nope" Alexia replies bluntly.

"Great here is my number, I will see you tomorrow at 9am. We've got a lot to do" passing over her card which Alexia took sharply huffing in the process.

"Alexia you can call me anytime I live just over there" pointing to an apartment Alexia could see over the street. Alexia nodded and closed the door behind Jay.

Jay immediately went to Eli's house and informed her of her concerns for Alexias wellbeing. Alba arrived and bit her lip when she saw Jay a face Jay grinned at because Alba had a reputation about her. One Jay did not plan on indulging in because she took her job seriously and unbeknown to Alexia she was a huge fan of hers following her journey for years after hers had ended.

Jay left Eli's and went back to her own place looking up at Alexias window as she arrived. Weirdly their apartments were dead opposite each other both having the penthouses but she didn't know that before today otherwise she probably would have made contact sooner.

Alexia made herself some avocados and eggs and settled on her balcony to eat looking across the city she had loved since as long as she could remember a tear fell down her cheek as she couldn't begin to imagine the amount of work she had to do to get back to where she was.

Jay now back at her apartment had plans for the evening, she was off to the club with her friends for a wind down today was exhausting and she just wanted a drink and a dance with a random girl that didn't mean anything at all.

Olga appeared on the balcony kissing Alexia who didn't really kiss her back and told her where she would be. Alexia nodded and Olga left as quickly as she appeared, she was alone again. Alone with her thoughts.

Several drinks in Jay was starting to let loose, she could dance fairly well and had already been grinding with this younger Spanish girl all night. As she approached the bar she was met by a familiar face she had met earlier that day, "Olga what are you doing here?" "Hola Jay I could ask the same thing".

"Just enjoying my night off, how is Alexia?".

"Same as earlier doesn't talk to me doesn't even look at me" this made Jay feel instantly sad, "she has had a major operation Olga she needs stability and support".

"I've tried she doesn't want it, she doesn't even touch me like she used too, we haven't had sex in over a month".

This announcement surprised Jay, Alexia didn't need sex she needed a shoulder to cry on and a motivator to help her get back on her feet.

Jay was joined at the bar by the girl she had been dancing with who whispered in her ear that she wanted to leave. Jay downed her drink said goodbye to Olga and they both jumped in a taxi to her place.

As soon as she shut the apartment door the girl was on her, flicking the lights on so she could see where she was going and what she was doing.

Meanwhile Alexia hadn't moved from the balcony the food she made earlier was stone cold and she herself was getting colder by the minute.

Lights going on at the apartment over the street caught her eyes and she saw two people kissing against a wall. She smirked at the two before realising it was Jays apartment and then she saw Jay lifting a girl up and carrying her to the next room.

Alexia smiled to herself, she couldn't remember the last time she had been treated like that and then she came to a realisation that it was Jay and actually she wasn't fond of her right now.

Throwing the girl down on the bed she made short work of her orgasms letting her know that she had to be out at 8 as she had work. The girl nodded bringing Jay into another kiss as the pair went at it again.

Morning came and Jay said goodbye to the girl who had stayed the night before and made herself some coffee and breakfast.

Eating it on her balcony, she looked across the street to see Alexia slumped under some blankets on her own balcony fast asleep, not in a good position for her knee. She showered and got dressed and made her way over to Alexias knocking on her door loudly knowing she was on the balcony.

Loud bangs on the door were what woke Alexia up, her stiff knee causing her immediate discomfort as she steadied herself to get herself up before looking at her watch and realising it was 9 am and that it was likely Jay. As she walks through her room she's met by Olga who is still fast asleep the clubs stamp still smudged on her hand from the night before.

The door opened gently, "I need to shower and dress" "that's fine I can wait" as she brought Alexia a fresh cappuccino and walked past her with pastries from the local bakery down the street. Alexia guided her to the living room where she would leave Jay while she showered. Thirty minutes later Alexia appeared with dripping wet hair in the living room as Jay was writing notes on her laptop.

As she shuffled closer causing Jay to look up and make eye contact. Again longer than it should be, Jay looked at Alexia studying her features, her hazel eyes looked sad but were beautiful her dripping wet brown hair was slung over her shoulders and her tanned skin was glowing in the light that entered the apartment.

"Shall we begin?".