#i'm mostly incoherent here probably

[wosospacegirl]

La reina - Alexia Putellas

Summary: Alexia fell for someone she never expected—Y/n, a younger college student who couldn’t care less about football. They have nothing in common, yet somehow, they just work. Here’s a little glimpse into their relationship.

Warnings: smut (+18); we have smut, we have fluff, we have angts, we have comfort we have Alexia eating Y/n out while making as 11 with her tongue...I'm sure you guys will feel fed <3

Word count: 7k

MASTERLIST

Notes: this was a request! So sorry it took me about a month to write it.

..

Y/n was practically bouncing on her feet when she saw Alexia at the airport. Well, it wasn’t exactly an airport since the Spain squad all travelled privately on their way back home.

The space was mostly empty, with only the player’s families present. There were no crowds asking for photos or cameras flashing since they weren’t allowed in.

But it didn’t matter. All Y/n cared about was Alexia. It had been three weeks since she left for camp in another country.

The matches the Spanish played were all friendly to prepare for real and important games–at least that’s what Alexia had explained to her, Y/n didn’t know much about football except that Alexia looked very pretty while playing it.

It was weird being at the airport knowing that in another two weeks, Y/n would have to come here, but to drop Alexia off as she had another game, this time in Portugal.

Alexia and Y/n didn’t spend a lot of time together. If they had gone on a date at least 3 times in the last 3 months Y/n would be lying. So she tried to be her best self around Alexia, tried to enjoy her and made sure Alexia was getting the rest she needed

T/n looked at the gate and saw that the first players to walk through the private airport doors were Pina and Patri, both girls quickly stopped to greet Y/n and do some small conversation, and then Aitana joined them, her well-travelled pillow hanging on her arm.

Y/n could not really focus on the conversation; she kept turning back to see if Alexia was there already.

“The staff on the plane asked her to take some pictures,” Aitana said, noticing how Y/n’s eyes kept bouncing from the group to the gate. “She’ll probably be the last to get out of the plane.

“She’s always the last, though,” Y/n said in a half-whined.

“Perks of being La Reina’s girlfriend,” Aitana said winking, before saying goodbye, taking Pina and Patri with her.

Y/n’s impatience grew as the minutes dragged on. Three and a half bitten nails later, Alexia showed up.

Her face was soft with exhaustion, her Barcelona hoodie slightly oversized, making her look unfairly huggable. 

Her blonde hair was messy from sleep, falling over her shoulder as she had just spent the whole flight dreaming–which probably happened because Alexia was rather sleepy, even if she denied it assiduously.

I took her some time, but Alexia inevitably saw Y/n in the middle of the private airport lobby and instantly smiled, opening her arms, and letting Y/n come to her.

Their hug was long. 

Alexia allowed Y/n to properly crush her torso all she wanted with her arms, but it didn’t bother Alexia; she had a load of muscle underneath her hoodie, and Y/n’s hug didn’t even tickle her.

“Hi,” Alexia said in Y/n’s ear, putting her hand on the girl’s head and pressing her even more against her body. 

Y/n mumbled something incoherent and just pressed her face more into the Barça hoodie, listening to Alexia’s heartbeat.

Alexia’s hand let go of her suitcase, planting her palm underneath Y/n’s shirt, on her warm back.

Being apart for too long was hard on both of them, but especially on Y/n. She was a very affectionate, physical-touch-as-a-love-language kind of girl. 

Naturally, she didn’t spend days sobbing in bed whenever Alexia was away–certainly, if she did that, she would die of dehydration–instead, she kept on with her life. The pressure in her chest never fully went away, especially during Alexia’s away games. It settled there, quietly constant, a reminder of how much she missed her.

The one way she found to cope with it was to bury herself in university work and focus on her classes and hobbies, like learning French and knitting. Alexia joked that every time she came back from a trip Y/n had learned something completely new from scratch.

“Missed you, mi vida,” Alexia said, breathing Y/n’ vanilla perfume on, one that she had got very used to, and missed whenever she was away. “Three weeks is way too long; I won’t ever do it again.”

Alexia bent her head a little just so Y/n could kiss her. First, she kissed her lips, then her cheeks, nose and forehead. Alexia was a very private person, and their relationship was still a secret to the public, but right now she could only care about Y/n and the way her kisses tickled her.

“I’ll hide you from Fifa for the rest of the year,” Y/n mumbled, bringing Alexia even closer to her. “They’ll never find you again and we’ll just stay together and live off of pizza.”

“I agree on the whole kidnap me from FIFA,” Alexia said, kissing Y/n’s head. “But I’ll have to pass the pizza thing, that wouldn't be very healthy, would it?”

“Look at you and your healthy diet,” Y/n rolled her eyes and jokingly pushed Alexia away “I forgot how much of a freak you are with food…I may or may not have like– a bunch of very unhealthy snakes lying around in your kitchens,”��

“They made me so happy while you were away,”  Y/n said, giving Alexia her best puppy eyes. “Please ignore them, and don’t–”

“I’ll throw them away,” Alexia started with a malicious smile.

“Oh come on!” Y/n huffed, crossing her arms. “They are my favourite flavour.”

The player took her suitcase with one hand and wrapped Y/n’s shoulder with the other, leading them out of the airport. 

“Come on, cariño you need to have some healthy habits,” Alexia said casually if it was that simple to give up on chips. 

“Where did you park the car?”

“You don’t understand that having a snack is essential for my mental health,” Y/n said, pointing at the black Cupra car parked a few meters away.

Alexia chuckled, opening her palm for Y/n to give her the keys. “You can keep half of your snacks and we’ll give the rest to the ninãs on the team.”

Y/n looked for the keys in her pocket and gave them to Alexia. 

They had already fought multiple times over Alexia–possessive and annoying driving behaviour.

Alexia always had to be the one driving, it didn’t matter when or where; the keys were always hers. The only time Y/n had a chance to drive Alexia’s cars was when she wasn’t in Barcelona, that was the only circumstance she would allow her to touch the keys.

“It’s not fair that Vicky gets to eat chips without an earful and I don't” Y/n grumbled, getting into the passenger seat after Alexia opened the door for her.

Ever the gentlewoman.

Alexia went around the vehicle, got behind the wheel, and started the car. “Vicky is a professional athlete who actually cares about what she eats, you, otherwise, would eat only pasta for a straight week If I didn’t ask you to change up a bit.”

“Vicky might be a professional athlete, but I’m a university student.” Y/n put her hands to her chest dramatically. “Do you know how impossible it is to survive studying without snacks? I’m out here shaping tiny minds, Ale—I need fuel! It’s not easy to be an early childhood education major.”

“Sorry, amor.” Alexia rolled her eyes playfully, placing a hand on Y/n’s tight.  “You can keep all your snacks, okay? Don’t want you losing your mind over…midterms? That’s what you call them?”

Y/n smiled triumphantly. She had to keep on her snacks, HA!

“Yep, but my midterms are over, remember?” Y/n said looking at Alexia. “I had my last test three days ago, I texted you about it.”

“Merda,” [shit] Alexia said looking from the road to Y/n. “Sorry, mi vida, I forgot about it. How did you go?”

It didn’t bother Y/n anymore. Alexia was very forgetful about personal things, even though they were important to her.

Her head was too much on football, on the team and the girls. Alexia took her duties as capitana very seriously, her job didn’t stop after she got off training or the pitch. But Y/n was learning, little by little, how to manage that, Alexia too.

Alexia and Y/n hadn’t been dating for a long time, they were together for a little over 8 months. 

Their relationship had ups and downs, just like any other. Their main source of conflict was because of how different their words were. 

They had an age gap, not too big, but enough to cause some generational conflicts; Alexia was like the best footballer in the world, while Y/n was ‘just’

a university student; and last but not least: their relationship was a secret.

Alexia didn't like to call it secret, she preferred ‘private’ but Y/n liked to call it what it was: hidden.

Y/n didn’t like it. She wanted to just be in a normal relationship. She didn’t want to go full 3rd base with Alexia in the middle of the street, but she did want to post a picture of her for Valentine’s Day or go out without pretending to be friends…

But again, they were always working around it.

“The grade isn’t out yet, but I think I did good!” Y/n said proudly. “It was for a philosophy test, so I had to write a lot, but overall it was okay.”

“La meva nena intelligent,” [my smart girl], Alexia, said, also sounding proud. “I’ll buy you something if you get an A.”

“You always say that and you buy what I want regardless of my grades,” Y/n giggled. “And my university grades are between 1 and 10, we don’t use the letter systems.”

“Well, it’s not my fault that you always work hard,” Alexia shrugged. “It doesn't matter your grade, I always know you do great.”

“Tell that to my children's psychology professor” Y/n said, rolling her eyes. “That woman is making my life a living hell.”

“Okay, do you have her phone or–” Alexia said deadpan.

“What?”

“To talk to your professor, she should be kinder to her students.” Alexia acted like ringing up a university professor because your girlfriend wanted to was a normal–casual– thing to do. “Professors are like captains on the team, the captain needs to be firm but also friendly and open to conversation, right?” She asked, looking at Y/n as they stopped at a red light.

“You really know how to ball while I know Aristotle, huh?” Y/n said smiling.

“Huh?” Alexia asked with furrowed eyebrows. “What do you mean? And yeah, I know how to ball, I won the Ballon d'Or, bebè, twice.”

For someone who didn’t know Alexia, they would think she was bragging, but she was simply stating a fact that she thought Y/n wasn't familiar with.

Y/n had missed this, having Alexia around, and talking to her… she just missed her girlfriend a lot, and unfortunately, in the last few months they had spent more time away than with each other, so she had to make the most of it.

“I know, Ale! I meant it like–” Y/n saw the confusion on Alexia’s face and decided to pick her battles. “Actually, just forget about it.”

“Why?” Alexia asked.

“Cause the green light is just on and we need to get home very fast,” Y/n said urgently, pointing at the traffic light.

Alexia looked at her anxiously while beginning to drive. “Why do we need to get home fast, are you car sick again?”

Y/n rolled her eyes. Alexia was killing the mode.

“No, Alexia!” Y/n said, a slight blush on her face “I just spent three weeks without my super hot girlfriend and I feel like I’m in the trenches, okay?”

Alexia understood what the girl meant right away, a grin growing on her face as she stepped up the speed.

“Don’t worry, cariño, I’ll take good care of you when we get home,” Alexia said as she pressed her foot harder on the accelerator pedal.

“Ale, I think you just went through a red light,” Y/n said, turning her neck to see the clearly red traffic light.

“It’s alright,” Alexia waved off. “I’ll just pay the car ticket later.”

Y/n’s underwear felt a well-known feeling in between her legs, she pressed her tight together, trying to find some friction.

Alexia barely parked the car when they arrived at Alexia’s house minutes later. A trio that was usually 20 minutes turned into 10. It was safe to say that Alexia went over and beyond the limit speed.

Alexia didn’t even wait for Y/n to step a foot into the house, her hands were already all over her, pressing, grabbing, touching every centimetre of skin she could find.

The blonde turned Y/n around and pressed her body against the closed door, her hand impatiently undid the button of Y/n’s jeans, her warm hand meeting Y/n’s wet underwear.

“Already this wet, cariño?” Alexia purred on Y/n’s ear, while her hand cupped Y/n’s tits under her shirt.

“Uhum,” Y/n moaned, moving her hips against Alexia’s hands. “I missed you.”

“I know you did, she did too,” she said. That's how Alexia would–sometimes–call Y/n’s pussy. “She’s so ready for me,  I could just ease a finger right in.”

Y/n whimpered, feeling Alexia press her even more against the cold door as one of her fingers slowly made its way into her hole. She was drenched, having spent two whole weeks without Alexis was the same as not feeling pleasure at all.

Y/n did touch herself–Alexia allowed her– but it didn’t feel the same. Y/n craved more than just a touch, she needed closeness, she needed words and reassurance during sex. 

She needed Alexia, and now she had her.

“Vols un dit més, cariño?” [Do you want a finger, cariño?] Alexia asked, not waiting for Y/n to respond before adding one more in her pussy. “I think you do, you’ve been so good while I was away, took care of yourself, and did well at uni, you deserve it, mi vida.” 

Y/n could cum just with Alexia’s words, she knew how much Y/n was a whore for compliments and she used it as her weapon during sex.

“Ale,” Y/n whimpered, pressing her tits on Alexia’s hands. “Thank you, fuck–”

Alexia smirked, noticing the effect she had on her girl. 

“That's what we’re going to do,” Alexia said, nipping Y/n’s earlobe. “You’re going to ride my finger right now, and then I’m taking you to bed and you’re riding my face, how does that sound?”

Y/n nodded frenetically. To be honest, she didn’t understand a word Alexia said, all she heard was ‘cum’ and ‘ride’, and that was exactly what she was going to do.

Alexia took her hand off Y/n’s chest, which earned her a whine from Y/n. “Be patient, I’ll give your tits more attention later.” 

The player wrapped her hand around Y/n’s waist, steading Y/n as she began buckling her hip, making Alexia’s finger reach even deeper than before.

“Oh–uh,” Y/n moaned, mouth hand open as Alexia sucked a spot on the back of her neck. “Almost there, Ale…I–”

“You can cum whenever you want, sweetheart,” Alexia said, kissing the new purple spot she made on the girl's skin. “Go on, be good and cum on my fingers.”

Y/n was a very good girl, so she did just that. 

She felt her body go still as shockwaves ran through her body, Alexia’s name coming out of her mouth as if it were a prayer.

When Y/n’s muscles went soft, Alexia held her tighter, but she didn’t let the girl recover, her fingers were moving against her wet walls again.

“Ale, amor–” Y/n whimpered, pressing her forehead against the door as the pleasure took over her body once again. “Please, hmm.”

It was like Alexias was all over her body; as if her cells had entered Y/n’s skin. She could only feel Alexia, and hear Alexia, all her senses belonged to the player.

“Give me one more,” Alexia murmured in her ear. “I know you want to, cariño.”

Alexia added a third finger and moved faster, her thumb meeting Y/n’s clit as she gently played with it.

It was enough for Y/n to cum again. Her breathing failed and for a second no air came into her lungs, but it didn’t matter because a wave of bliss consumed her body once again.

“Just like that,” Alexia purred, slowing the pace of her fingers, helping the girl come down from her orgasm. “I missed seeing you cum.”

Alexia turned her around and kissed her face, murmuring praises as Y/n tried to come back from her high.

“Now let’s go to my room,” Alexia said, wrapping her arm around the girl’s waist again. “Wanna taste you on my tongue.” 

They were off to a wild and long night.

..

The next day Y/n woke up with Alexia’s mouth on her.

Alexia had taken her pyjama shorts off, and her mouth was on Y/n’s pussy, lapping at her wetness as her hands possessively grabbed her tights.

It took a few seconds for Y/n to understand what was happening, but when she realised, she welcomed it with a grin. 

Alexia always ate her out when she could, it was almost part of her routine. But of course, she couldn't do that while she was away, so it was nice to have this part of her day back.

Alexia was extremely skilled with her fingers, her mouth, with her strap…It was like she was very aware of every movement she made all the time. She knew exactly what to grab, what to lick and what to pinch to make Y/n moan and melt.

“Baby,” Y/n whined, moving her hips, trying to make Alexias go faster. “More?”

“Don’t move, cariño.” Alexia firmed her grip on Y/n’s tight. “Let me do the work, just lay there for me.”

It was almost impossible to just lay there, especially after Alexias fucked her with her finger against it. The two middle ones were deep into her pussy, Y/n’s walls welcoming them as part of her own body.

“Ale, hmm, please–” Y/n whimpered, holding her hand to her side because she knew Alexia didn’t like when she pulled her hair while she was eating her out.

It was something about being in control, Alexia told her once.

“Baby, so go–” Y/n was interrupted when Alexia took the shirt she was wearing and stuffed the hem into her mouth, the fabric quickly becoming wet.

Y/n stared at Alexia with wide eyes.

“Shh, just enjoy it, bebè,” Alexia said, sucking at Y/n’s clit while making eye contact, her left hand marking Y/n’s hip bone with her finger.

Y/n closed her eyes and did what Alexia told her: she enjoyed it.

Y/n was grabbed tightly at the bedsheets as she felt Alexia's tongue moving faster, and then she noticed it.

Alexia was making the number 11 with her tongue, moving it up and down slowly before moving it to the side. She did it again, and again. 

And that’s when Y/n felt that well-known feeling. An orgasm erupted from her body as she bit into her shirt, her body, her body shook and she came to Alexia’s mouth. 

Then it all went black.

“You’ll hurt your jaw, cariño,” Y/n heard Alexia say as if she was far away. She quickly opened her eyes and was met with Alexia’s hazel eyes. 

“Hi,” Alexia said, smiling. “Let go of it, baby,” Alexia tugged at the material in Y/n’s mouth.

Y/n looked at Alexia with furrowed brown, and then she looked down. She had forgotten Alexia had stuffed her shirt in. She dizzily opened her mouth and Alexia took the hem of the shirt from her.

Y/n was confused. She remembered having an orgasm and then… blank. When she was overstimulated she would sometimes black out and wake up minutes later.

“Lift your arms for me, let me take the shirt off,” Alexia asked while caressing Y/n’s cheek.

Y/n shook her head, still looking at Alexia, feeling safe in her presence. She was confused, but Alexia would make it better. She always did.

Alexia tilted her head. “Why not?”

“Cold,” Y/n said, leaning into Alexia’s palm.

“I’ll give you my shirt,” Alexia promised. “And you’ll be warm.”

Y/n obediently lifted her arms and let Alexia strip her. She was fully naked when Alexia came back from her closet, a red shirt in her hand.

Alexia carefully put it on Y/n and went to the bathroom, coming back with a few wipes in hand. She spread Y/n’s thighs open and cleaned her, reassuring her whenever Yn whined, telling her she was too sensitive.

At the end, Alexia tucked Y/n in and kissed her forehead.

“Are you feeling sleepy, cariño?” 

Yn nodded, a pout on her face as she turned her head on her pillow and closed her eyes. Alexia had tired her out and the clock said it wasn’t even 6 am.

“Take a nap,” Alexia said as she got on the bed with Y/n, gently guiding Y/n’s head to her chest. “ I’ll stay here with you.”

Y/n fell asleep seconds later.

A few hours later, Alexia woke Y/n up with breakfast on the bed–or at least what Alexia considered breakfast– she chopped a bunch of fruits in a bowl and put them on a breakfast tray.

“Where’s the rest?” Y/n asked, still sleepy, rubbing her eyes.

Alexia sat next to Y/n and looked at her confused. “What do you mean the rest?”

“Hmm, the rest of the food?” Y/n said, pointing at the tray in front of her. “Do you want me to start the day off with two bananas and a mango? Where is the chocolate chip pancake?”

“You should always start your day with fibre, cariño.” Alexia crossed her arms. “We can go out for brunch and get whatever you want if you eat your fruit salad.”

“Whatever I want?” Y/n asked, a teasing smile on her face.

“Sí.”

“I want you then.

Alexia clearly wasn’t waiting for that answer because she got flushed hard and fast. It was cute, seeing Alexia, normally calm and chill, getting squirmish under her gaze.

It didn’t last long though, she was quickly back to her normal, confident self.

“Eat your fruit and you’ll have it,” she whispered against Y/n’ smooth, before taking the girl into a deep kiss. “Now go on, I want us to go on a run before noon.”

The mention of run made Y/n’s horniness disappear from her body.

“A run? But you just got back from camp!” Y/n whined. “You can’t be serious, normal people rest after they’re done working.”

Y/n could see Alexia's rigorous and inflexible persona coming right in.

“Cariño, I have to keep my routine, you know that,” Alexia said, nudging Y/N’s shoulder. “If I skip, I’ll regret it later.”

“Runs help prevent injuries, too, it makes my ligaments stronger.” She continued, kissing Y/n’s face to make her soften up. It worked.

Y/n didn’t have a chance to fight it and she knew.

Her shoulder gave up a little. “Fine! But can I go on the golf card while you run?”

“No,” Alexia said deadpan. “That wouldn't be running.”

“But you are the–oh so glorious– professional footballer, I’m just a future kindergarten teacher!” Y/n said. “Would you like it if I made you do class planning? I don’t think so.” Y/n crossed her arms.

If Alexia was insisting on her company on the run, she was doing it her way.

“Cariño! You never work out with me,” Alexia complained.

“That’s because I never work out, Alexia; it’s nothing personal,” Y/n said.

“You told me one of your New Year resolutions was starting to work out,” Alexia said, her turn to cross her arms.

“Yeah, yeah,” Y/n waved her off. “But that was a long few months ago.”

“We’re in February.” 

“But it’s a leap year!”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Alexia asked exasperatedly.

“The more you argue the later you start your run,” Y/n said, taking a piece of banana and putting it into her mouth.

Alexia gave up.

“Fine, just finish it, ok? I’ll take a shower,” Alexia said, turning around and going to their shared bathroom.

"I’ll join you in a moment!" Y/n yelled from the bed, but in her mind, she was already planning the fastest route to avoid a run and the fastest way to get in the shower with Alexia.

She couldn't lose the opportunity of seeing Alexia naked and wet.

Y/n had never eaten a fruit salad so fast in her life.

..

Y/n and Alexia compromised.

Y/n did run with her for 2km, but Alexia did the rest of her run having Y/n driving a golf cart by her side.

That way Y/n did what she loved the most: just sit and look pretty while having quality time with Alexia.

The couple talked a lot during the run, mainly about Y/n's classes and about the time Alexia spent on camp.

The good thing about having a partner who lived a completely different life than you? The gossip!

How else would Y/n know about which gold medalist was sleeping with who? And how else would Alexia know about the two professors in the philosophy department who were going through an ugly divorce because of cheating?

“And guess what?” Y/n said, easily turning the wheel to divert from a hole in the ground. 

“What?” Alexia asked, a little out of breath because of her exercise.

Y/n rolled her eyes.

“Guess!” 

“I don't know!” Alexia said. “Tell me, cariño, please?”

Please. Huff.

Alexia refused to say please when they were having sex, but quickly said the word when she wanted to hear the biggest gossip around the campus–that she didn't even attend!

Y/n lowered her speed to keep up with Alexia, who was going at a slower pace.

“The professor cheated on a student! It's a girl majoring in social services!” Y/n disclosed the gossip. “If you had asked me, I would say social services were the last one on my list of students sleeping with professors.”

Alexia laughed. “And what major would be first?”

“Engineering major,” Y/n stated expressionlessly. “Any type of engineering major. I've heard stories.”

“What stories?” Alexia asked.

“Oh you wouldn't like to know,” Y/n said as she got faster leaving Alexia behind.

“Cariño, stop it,” Alexia said. “You're going too fast.”

“But I need to get home and pee!” Y/n yelled back. “Just get in the car with me and we'll go.”

“No!”Alexia said. “I have to finish my running.”

Y/n rolled her eyes and got faster, ignoring Alexia’s lecture and leaving her behind and she drove back to Alexia’s house.

When Alexia got home 30 minutes later than Y/n, she opened the door and found the girl lying on the sofa, fresh out of the shower.

Alexia bent down from the back of the couch to give the Y/n a kiss but was met with a pillow on her face.

“Excuse me?” Alexia asked, offended.

“Shower first,” Y/n said, still holding the pillow up while holding a book with the other. “And then you can have your kiss.”

“Are you serious?”

“Very.”

“I want a kiss now,” Alexia demanded calmly.

Y/n simply pointed at the hallway to the bathroom.

Alexia groaned but headed to the bathroom.

“No groaning,” Y/n yelled from the sofa.

Alexia replied by slamming the bathroom door shut.

Grumpy.

After Alexia emerged from the bathroom, fresh from her shower with her hair still damp, she made her way to the living room. She found Y/n exactly where she had left her—lounging on the sofa—but the book she'd been reading was long forgotten.

Noticing the amused smile on Y/n’s face as she scrolled through her phone, Alexia leaned over the back of the couch without a word, curious about the source of her laughter.

Y/n, still grinning, explained that she was watching funny videos from a new social media app—one Alexia had never even heard of. 

She did her best to break down what was happening in the video, but no matter how much she tried, Alexia just couldn’t wrap her head around it.

All Alexia knew was that Y/n wanted them to participate in whatever the couple on the video were doing.

“–And then we start running,” Y/n said with a proud smile, holding up her phone as a TikTok played on the screen. “Easy, right? I won’t post it, of course. It’s gonna be in my drafts.” 

“I still don't understand, cariño,” Alexia said.

The player had changed her position, and her shoulder was resting on the sofa’s arm as she squinted her eyes at Y/n phone.

“What you don't understand this time?” Y/n asked, slightly imapantient.

Alexia didn't know anything about social media. Nothing. Nada. Y/n wasn't an influencer but she knew her way around technology and trends and was very active on her Instagram. 

Alexia, on the other hand, was happy if she didn't forget her Instagram password. Which she did, several times. Y/n had to be the one to get a new password for her.

“What's the propòsit d’aixop?”[What’s the purpose of this?] Alexia asked. 

“Alexia, my love,” Y/N said, cupping Alexia’s cheeks dramatically. “It’s just a TikTok trend. It’s supposed to be dumb. That’s literally the whole point.”

“Dumb, bebè?” [baby] Alexia said, taking Y/n’s wrists in her hands gently and holding them under her lap. “I'm not tonta, and neither are you, why post us being silly?” [silly]

Y/n tried to free her wrists, but Alexia held tighter.

“Because everybody does it!” Y/n answered in a whine. 

It was always like that with Alexia. 

They spent most of the time away from each other, having to text or do video chats, and when they were together they couldn’t even do normal couple things because Alexia was Barcelona’s princess. 

She had the whole world watching her all the fucking time. 

“Cariño, we’re not like everyone else,” Alexia said, running a hand through her hair. “I have contracts and sponsors and… I just don’t want to do anything that could cause problems, you know?”

Y/n tugged at her wrist harder, and this time Alexia let her go with a huff. Y/n's eyebrows were furrowed.

“It 's a tiktok trend, Alexia! I'm not going to film you using cocaine or kicking a puppy!” Y/n said, the tone of her voice getting louder. “Everybody does it! Everybody! It's supposed to be fun, something that couples do.”

Alexia Pinched the bridge of her nose. 

“We are not everybody,” she repeated as if Y/n didn't listen the first time.

“No! You are not everybody,” Y/N huffed, crossing her arms. “And maybe I just wanted to feel like a normal girlfriend for once—ever think about that? I miss spending time with you!”

Y/n loved Alexia, she had said it to her three months ago, she loved her so much it hurt, but moments like this, when she felt like a secret, when she felt like Alexia’s career was the most important thing in in life, she sometimes wished Alexias was just another normal person.

Maybe that way Alexia would have time for her. Maybe if she wasn’t La Reina, Alexia would walk with her and hold her hand, maybe they wouldn't have to spend all their time together because Alexia was too busy to be with her.

Someday she wished Alexia wasn’t La Reina. Today was one of those days.

Alexia opened her mouth, but Y/n didn't let her argue.

“Nope, I’m talking—because you just got back from a three-week camp, and now you’re leaving again! For another week! In Portugal! Do you see the problem here, Ale?”

“I know, cariño,” Alexia sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “It’s just… My schedule is a mess. I don’t know how to fix that.”

Alexia knew it was coming, she just didn’t know it was going to be today. When she got back from long trips Y/n would always whine and complain about how much she was away, but she never screamed or yelled about it. 

They had arguments over it, but it was always toned down, almost like very logical arguments. But this time Y/n seemed to have a lot of feeling boiling inside of her, waiting for the right moment to let them ou.t

Y/N stepped closer, pressing a hand flat against Alexia’s chest. “It means that I miss you, Alexia. Like, a lot.”

Y/n felt a tear on her cheek, but she quickly cleaned it, she wasn’t going to cry. She was angry and frustrated–with a very good reason–and

“I miss you! But even when you're around we can't do girlfriend stuff because of football, or because of the media, interviews, photoshoots–” Y/n counted down on her finger every little commitment Alexia had on her routine regularly.”

“–and I know you have your career, but–” Okay, maybe she was going to cry a little.

Alexia wrapped her arms around Y/n, bringing her close to her chest. 

“–you have me too.” Y/n finished, finally letting the tears run free as she buried her face in Alexia's chest, letting herself be comforted.

Alexia sat back down on the couch, bringing Y/n with her; the younger girl was straddling her lap, her face resting on Alexia’s neck.

Y/n let out a shaky breath, pressing her forehead against Alexia’s shoulder. The weight of the moment settled between them, thick and unspoken.

Alexia didn’t rush to fill the silence. Instead, she tightened her hold, her fingers tracing slow patterns against Y/n’s back. “Hey,” she murmured after a while, voice soft but sure. “I’ve got you.”

“Calma, tot està bé." [it's okay.] Alexia continued in a soft tone. “Pots plorar, sóc aquí." [“I'm here, you can cry"]

Alexia patted Y/n’s back, chin on the younger girl's head. She rocked Y/n and let her cry for a few minutes, even though she hated the sounds of her girl’s sobs.

When Y/n seemed calmer, Alexia slightly pushed her body away so she could look at her.

 Alexia cleaned some tears on her cheek and kissed the pout on Y/n's face. 

“I’m sorry, mi vida," Alexia said softly, rubbing her thumb over Y/N’s cheek. "I didn’t realize how much this was bothering you.”

Y/n looked down, feeling embarrassed by her outburst. “No, I'm–I'm Sorry, I shouldn't freak out over a stupid TikTok.”

“No, don't say that,” Alexia said, kissing her forehead. “It's not stupid if you care about it, and both of us know it’s more than the TikTok thing,”

“It's just a TikTok trend” Y/n mumbled, feeling like a spoiled brat. “I'm not gonna lose a limb, it's alright, we don't have to do It.” 

“We can do it, sí?” Alexia said. “But you have to explain it to me again.”

Y/n smiled at Alexia. “Ok, I'll explain again.”

“Great!” Alexia said, kissing in on the lips. “And after that, we can sit down and plan a trip just for us.”

Y/n sniffled, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. “A trip?” she repeated, her voice still slightly shaky. “You don’t have any breaks until July, we can’t make any trips.”

“Not a long trip, no. But I was thinking… Maybe we can steal a weekend for ourselves. Just the two of us.” Alexia hummed, tucking a loose strand of Y/n’s hair behind her ear. “Soy la Reina, no? I’ll ask for a day off next Friday, so we’ll have the whole weekend for us.” 

“You don't have to do that just because of me,” Y/n said. “Your career is important, I know it. I was just being… sort of a brat.”

“You weren’t being a brat, don’t say that,” Alexia cupped Y/n’s face. “I've been very busy, I know we haven’t spent a lot of quality time together; I’ll get better at it, okay?”

Y/n nodded, bringing her face to Alexia’s shoulder. 

“I didn't mean it when I said I wanted us to be like everybody else,” Y/n whispered. “I'm sorry I said that.”

Y/n was embarrassed now. Y/n knew she was agreeing to all of this when she and Alexia started dating. She wasn't being fair to Alexia. The players had an opposite life compared to her, a very different one from most people, and Y/ should respect it.

Alexia sighed, rubbing Y/N’s back. “I know it sucks, cariño. I don’t mean to make you feel like an afterthought��it’s just… football takes over everything.”

“I’m sorry it took me some time to see it,” Alexia continued, putting her hand under Y/n’s shoulder and rubbing her back, feeling the slight movement of her breathing.

“I’ve always wanted to go to Tenerife,” Alexia said after a few minutes. “Alba went there last month and said it was very charming.”

“Tenerife is nice,” Y/N mumbled against Alexia’s skin. “It’s got beaches… a volcano… and probably a bunch of cute little cafés.”

“A volcano? That’s cool. Alba didn’t tell me about that.”

“Yeah, it’s a dormant one, but it's interesting, I guess.”

Alexia kissed Y/n’s forehead and rocker again, gently, wanting the girl to feel safe and comfortable.

“We’re going there next week, I’ll buy the plane tickets,” Alexia said. “You just worry about buying cute bikini sets and searching about dormant volcanoes.”

Alexia finally achieved what she wanted. Y/n let out a little giggle, but it soon faded. 

“Ale, really, we don’t have to do it,” Y/n said, taking her head from Alexia's shoulder to meet her eyes. “I don't want to get between you and your calendar, I understand the International season is starting and all that.” 

“Plus, if you really want to take some days off, you could use them to rest, you haven’t taken a break during the whole season.” Y/n continued.

“I’ll be on a beautiful island with a pretty and smart girl by my side,” Alexia said cheekily. “That’d be a proper holiday, of course I’m gonna rest.”

“Plus, it’ll be nice to just... be,” Alexia admitted, rubbing a hand over her neck. “No schedules, no press, no—” she huffed, shaking her head before offering a small, almost shy smile. “Just you and me. That sounds perfect.”

Y/n said nothing, she only buried her face in Alexia’s Barcelona hoodie.

“Are you feeling a little better now?” Alexia asked.

“Yes,” Y/n said. “But I’m sorry for crying and making you feel guilty,” Y/n said with a slight flush on her cheeks.

“No, no,” Alexia said, shaking her head. “You don’t apologize, I was in the wrong here.”

She took Y/n’s chin in her hand, looking her in the eyes. 

“I’m not planning this trip out of guilt, alright?” The player promised. “It’s because I really miss doing fun stuff with you… You know, activities that don’t revolve around watching Love Island,” Alexia teased, poking Y/n’s side.

“Wait, what?!” Y/N blinked at her. “All this time and you were just pretending to care about Love Island?”. 

Alexia scrunched her nose. “Yes, cariño, I just watch it because you like it.”

Y/n got out of Alexia’s lap, a betrayed expression on her face.

“Who are you?!”

“I don’t mind watching, I just think it’s boring.”

“Boring?!” Y/n said looking down in disbelief. “I can’t believe it, Ale! You always seemed so excited for the next episode.”

“Because I knew you were excited, bebè,” Alexia smiled at her sweetly. 

“All this time… our whole relationship… built on lies?” Y/n clutched her chest. “Do you even love me, or was that a lie too?”

Alexia, laughing, pulls Y/n back into her lap. “Shh, cariño. No more questions.”

After a moment of exaggerated betrayal, Y/n huffed dramatically but let herself be pulled back into Alexia’s lap. She crossed her arms, still feigning offence.

“You're lucky you’re cute,” she muttered.

Alexia chuckled, pressing a kiss to Y/n’s temple. “I know.”

Alexia nuzzled into Y/n’s neck, placing a few lazy kisses there. “So, what’s next?”

Y/n hummed, pretending to think. “Well, since you’ve just shattered my trust, I’d say the only way to fix this relationship is…” She grabbed her phone, waving it slightly.

Alexia narrowed her eyes. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes.” Y/n grinned, already pulling up the TikTok. “So basically we just say ‘suspect and–”

Alexia kept the same smile on her face and Y/n explained it to her. Did she feel tonta doing the Tik Tok? Yes. Did she do it anyway because Y/n asked. Absolutely.

..

Notes: Please like, share and let me know what you think! Feedback is important and makes me want to write even more. :D

Read more of my work here -> Masterlist

[zoieru]

thoughts about parts of hsr men's bodies, and how they react to your attention on them (mostly cute, not quite nsfw)

Just sum thots I wanted to get down n share, perchance with some like-minded individualss. I sort of yap when I write, not written in perfect grammar or prose. Maybe spoilers for 3.0. no gender, not nsfw, but suggestions splatted about ♡

Aventurine, Sunday, Phainon, Mydei

Aventurine

His hands, fingers, the whole lot. They're so dextrous and slender and nimble, probably from playfully flicking chips between his fingers as a taunt to those at the table. The way the chips twirl between them effortlessly has you often watching in a momentary trance. You sort of chide yourself internally when your thoughts start to drift at how they move, how *able* they are, and the implications of such...

You know he pays a lot of attention to his appearance, so his nails are always seemingly perfect, softly rounded at the edges, clean. It's to an extent that seems kind of impossible, as you find yourself captivated by them when you play with his fingers as you sit together. They're just...pretty. "You got a thing for hands, or is it just me?" He teases, a little smirk tickling the edge of his lips as his eyes glint with that familiar spark of mischief. He's always playing it off, of course, but he can't deny the little flutter he feels in his chest when you kinda admire him like that. There's something different about the way you do it, makes him feel special and wanted. Which the boy deserves in bounds.

Plus he looooves touching you with them. He's just a sort of handsy person, but in a cheeky-reverent kind of way, especially once he notices your attention on them. He'll fiddle purposefully, that frustrating smirk on his mouth, he'll run his fingers over your skin gently, pinching and squeezing here and there, and trace your bottom lip with his thumb when he's got you a bit flustered.

Sunday

For Sunday my first thought was his head-wings, of course, but that would be boring since everyone talks about the way the lil things flutter and fluff up, so we're going for his hair.

Now, Sunday obviously paid attention to his appearance as the Bronze Melodia, and all of his positions. He had to look the part, after all, and his tendency for control seeped into this aspect of his life too. But I like to think he never really saw his hair as anything but a sort of tool, something on him to be viewed and consumed by other people, just as a lot of his life was. (Thinking about Sunday makes me so sad aaa). He looked after it, liked it, but didn't see the utility or pleasure of it outside of that use much.

But when he fell with broken wings, and ended up in the strangely soft and uncomfy-comfy laps of the astral express crew, and others, like you, he, along with other things, started to realise the pleasure and softness that could come from his hair. For instance, along with his wings, if you touch his hair, he's a goner. He's just so...sensitive, and it sends little shivers down his whole body, to where he's almost made docile and incoherent. His brain short circuits a little and he becomes like when you touch a shark on that part of their body where they just become all floppy.

He doesn't even have the energy to be self conscious about it much when you're lacing your fingers through the grey strands, and if he does he'll blush a bit, cutely, and avert his eyes almost grumpily as he just shifts in your lap so his face doesn't have to meet your gaze. Plus, he finds it's one of the only time his yappy brain quiets a little, the sensations like a soothing silk wrapping around the thoughts and making them a bit less intrusive. Basically he's cute as hell, it hurts my soul.

Phainon

Okay, so, I'm gonna go with the expected here but HEAR ME OUT. His eyes are so expressive, even ignoring how intensely blue they are to the point it feels as though a droplet of the sky had just plopped into their depths one day and decided to take up residence hello Satoru ♡.

They're always moving slightly, narrowing a touch when thinking along with that slight pout of his mouth, widening with a gentle spark when he gets an idea or sees something he finds cool (imagine him like...seeing a stupid meme and showing mydei, and mydei just like -_-). When his face lights up, eyes catching that spark of excitement, it's just so sweet and beautiful. You find yourself desperate to keep seeing that light flicker in his eyes, finding things that make him light up.

Then there's when they soften. Usually when he's looking at you. Or mydei stop. He'll be talking or into something and then turn to look at you half way through, his eyes instantly softening ever so slightly. It's enough to make your heart flutter, just that. It's pathetic really, but that's what this puppy will do to you.

If you ever comment on them he'll chuckle a little, maybe bring his hand to his nape, the classic, looking around like 'really? hehe'. He takes the compliment and thinks about it a bit during the day at intervals, feeling warmer inside.

ALSO WHEN HE TILTS HIS HEAD SUBTLY WHEN CONFUSED LIKE A PUPPY OKAY BYE

Mydei

Mydei is hard because (get your mind out of the gutter) I feel like he would be so enthralled and slightly confused by all of your touch, since he hasn't felt much soft and tender affection in his whole damn life. So let's go with his skin, namely, tracing soft and idle patterns on it, anywhere really.

I'm picturing it starting with like...you just idly drawing circles or swirls on his arm or hand while you're relaxing, maybe before sleeping, just at some point. It didn't even really cross your mind that you were doing it, it was just natural. But this man had his eyes locked onto your fingers as they moved, eyeing the movements and taking note of the sensations almost with suspicion, like -what the hell is this and why do I like it-. Basically bro is shook, it's cute.

You'll catch him staring and be like ?? And he'll get a touch embarrassed, try to play it off a bit, grunt and look away a little, but after a bit he'll admit it feels kinda nice and you couldddd do it more if you wanted to. He wouldn't mind. Yknow. And he'll end up enjoying it a lot, anywhere you do it, letting you trace his skin more purposefully, the muscles rippling underneath it, his tattoos. He finds his muscles relax under your touch as if you're weaving some of Aglaea's golden thread over them, soothing them more than he's really felt before. And he'll give you a bit of a grumpy cat face when you stop, like...excuse me what? Keep going???

Anyway kinda thinking about doing more now but like, their reactions to each of these things individually, like playing with their hair or hands. Brainrot. Anyway make sure u ate something today or I'll haunt your dreams bye.

[liliths-missing-pen]

Heartsyabul Dorm (Part 1) Takes You Out On First Date

I have no idea what possessed me but I feel like I cooked??? Anyway enjoy my first headcanons/drabbles since I dipped off the face of the internet

Heartslabyul Dorm (Literally just Riddle) x GN!Reader

Masterlist

Part 1 (You are here) Part 2 (Soon) Everyone in Heartslabyul will be posted eventually!

Warnings: None

Riddle Rosehearts

If Riddle isn't busy or worried about someone Ace or Deuce setting the dorms ablaze in his absence he would take you out. Somewhere like a cafe or maybe even a small bakery. He would take lots of advice from Trey and Cater since he trusts their opinions. If you don't have an excellent relationship with food, Riddle would take you out for tea tasting instead! I didn't even know this was a thing till I started searching for ideas He loves tea and he wants to share that love with you too.

You have to be reminded though, he's the Heartlabyul house warden, an honour student and has to keep up to par with his dorm to make sure none of them burns it down as well as making sure they keep up with the rules. Even though Riddle may lighten up on some rules that the dorm agrees are a little ridiculous, such as the rule to run underwater to dry off. I swear this is a rule but I can’t find it anywhere on the wikis So as boring as it may sound if he's busy you two would have a study date in his dorm room!

He thought dating anyone would be off the table for him, a thought his mother put into right before he left for NRC. So he isn't well-versed in this area he'd be very nervous throughout the whole date. He's never had to attempt something that he wasn't good at in front of others. You'd probably have to calm him down since he would like he'd explode at any moment if you didn't do something sooner.

Add this into one of the other points but he'd totally be insecure about his personality and why you agreed to a date with him

This was one of the only times Riddle had time off. The Adeuce duo were occupied, no unbirthday parties to plan, and Trey had plans to be at the dorm all day allowing him to be able to take you out for your first date. Being his usual self he came to Ramshackle dorm 11 am sharp, greeting you at the door with a bunch of roses for you. The sweet aroma was so similar to the boy in front of you now, though he didn't seem to be the same boy who picked you up this morning.

Ever since the two of you had got to this cafe, which Cater himself recommended to Riddle, he was extremely awkward. You were expecting it to be slightly awkward with your knowledge of how he was raised with limited knowledge about the aspect of dates and romance but you never imagine it would be this bad. He was tense and you could tell as well just by the way he was having issues meeting your gaze. You were empathic to the redhead in front of you since you knew it wasn't an easy task to ask you out. Nor was it easy to have a first date with someone either.

"So Riddle what book have you been reading lately?” You inquired, Riddle was an avid reader trying, you were trying to get him to come out of his shell. Riddle had relaxed slightly once you mentioned one of his dearest interests. "Well, at the moment I'm reading this book about psychology, mostly about how the brain responds to certain situations and how feelings-" after this voice went softer than before, shying off "-mostly love and it works incoherently," He admitted with his face getting as red as his hair. "Mc, if you couldn't tell I'm not used to being on a date with someone else, I'm sorry for it being so awkward I just.." He sighed in defeat making a quick glance at you but immediately looking away once seeing you were looking straight at him.

You chuckled, you felt like you should've seen this coming "Riddle, there's no need to be nervous I like you, for you." You told him tenderly, you reached out for his hand grasping it, your thumb slowly brushing gently across his knuckles to try and ease him.

Your efforts seemed to backfire on you as your words made him bright red. "Mc... I-" he couldn't bring himself to say anything to your words.

"Don't. I wouldn't have said yes if I didn't reciprocate anything would I sunshine?" Well... Now you've got yourself an even more flustered little rose.

I take commissions!

[thenoellebird]

The Dipper sick fic was so cute and sweet and I loved it 💖💞💖💞💯💯 can we pretty please have a part two 🥺🥺🥺🙏🙏🥺🥺🥺🙏🙏🥺🥺

PS platonic family bonding and platonic sibling bonding is the best💯💯💯✊✊✊💯💯✊✊💖💖💖 and also your fic are the best and I love reading them so much and I hope you continue to write for a very long time cuz once again I just love reading your fic you are the best in my favorite author💖💯 I hope you have a great day😄😄

*slams head on desk repeatedly*

I feel like I'm dying from being complimented too much <3

*freaking dies from being complimented too much and then pops up as Franken-Ellebird to write you a part two*

SO!

part two you say?

hehehe here you go. Multiple ppl asked for this. Maybe I'll make a part three. We'll see how much ppl like this bit <3

It's a lot longer than part one, and leaves me at a perfect spot to make a part three, if people want to see a third part to this.

---

PART TWO

Dipper dozed fitfully for the thirty minutes that Grunkle Stan was gone. He tossed and turned and sweated a bit, hearing himself whimper every few minutes.

But the door finally opened, waking up Dipper fully. Stan walked in and came across the room, sitting down next to the bed.

“Hey buddy,” Stan murmured gently, reaching over to put his hand on Dipper’s head, “how are ya feeling?”

Dipper moaned and leaned into Stan’s comforting touch with a small dry-sob. Stan ran his hand through Dipper’s curls as softly as he could, smiling at the child.

“You’re alright, kiddo. Shh, it’s okay,” Stan whispered, feeling the heated sweat on his nephew’s forehead, his face falling into sadness. The poor kid.

“Gr-Grunkle St…aan?” Dipper whimpered, his voice slurred and slow. Stan sighed, feeling even sadder.

“I’m right here, Dipper. Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. Don’t try to get up. Just lay there buddy,” Stan murmured, putting a hand on Dipper’s shoulder to keep him lying down. “How are ya feeling? Do you wanna try something easy on your stomach yet?”

Dipper muttered something incoherent.

“What’s up, kid?” Stan said gently, leaning towards him to hear better.

“I still feel like…like Imma…throw up…” Dipper said slowly, his eyes mostly closed from the fever. He looked utterly miserable. He shivered beneath Stan’s hand, which was still on his shoulder.

“Hey, that’s okay buddy. Remember, we got the bucket over here for ya if you need it, huh?” Stan told him, gently running his hand through Dipper’s curly brown hair.

“Mmm…kay…” Dipper whispered. Stan sighed, knowing he should leave Dipper at least another thirty minutes or an hour or two before giving him anything, just to make sure his stomach was fully calmed down.

“Alright buddy,” Stan replied. “You think you’ll be all good for another thirty minutes? I’ll let you rest.”

Dipper nodded sleepily, the chills still wrecking his body. Stan gently pushed Dipper’s hair off his forehead and kissed his birthmark again as a goodbye.

“See ya in a minute, buddy.”

He walked out of the room, shutting the door.

—XXX—

Stan let Dipper sleep for two hours, checking on him every thirty minutes. Finally, he brought Dipper some ginger ale, sitting beside him and gently shaking him awake.

“Mm?” Dipper murmured, his eyes clearer now. When Stan felt his head, it seemed that his fever had gone down quite a bit.

“Hey, buddy. How are ya?” Stan asked softly, smiling at him. “Your fever’s gone down a bit. And your stomach is probably calm enough for you to start sipping somethin’,” Stan told him, running his hand through Dipper’s hair gently.

Dipper smiled tiredly, looking somewhat confused.

“Come on, sit up,” Stan said, reaching around his nephew to help him get into a sitting position. “You’re okay,” he added when Dipper moaned in discomfort. “Here, let’s try to get something in ya, huh?”

Dipper nodded, opening his eyes more and trying to squint around the room. Stan put his hand over the back of Dipper’s neck, tilting his head back just slightly and lifting the cup of ginger ale to his mouth as gently as he could. Dipper’s hand reached up and tried to grip the cup too. Stan was startled at how small Dipper’s hands seemed.

“Shh…that’s it…just a few small sips, okay? There we go,” Stan murmured gently, tipping the cup slightly to help his nephew take a small drink.

Dipper obeyed Stan to the best of his ability, slowly taking in ginger ale for a moment or two before Stan decided he’d had enough and set the cup on the nightstand, helping Dipper lie back down.

“Alright kiddo. You should rest a little more. Then we’ll see what we can do with more ginger ale and maybe something salty, hm?” Stan told Dipper quietly. Dipper moaned slightly and reached towards Stan, a pleading, frightened expression on his face.

It was clear he wanted Stan to stay and hold his hand.

Stan stared at Dipper’s small hand and drew a deep, long, shuddering breath.

“Oh…” Stan muttered, feeling tears sting in the corners of his eyes. Stan carefully sat down on the edge of Dipper’s bed and gently took the boy’s small hand in his large, rough one. He stared down at their hands, realizing just how small Dipper was.

Toughening him up, huh? He’s just a child. Just because you were roughed up as a kid doesn’t make it right, Stan thought to himself. He gently stroked the bridge of Dipper’s knuckles with his thumb, trying to assure the boy of any comfort he could offer.

Dipper closed his eyes, smiling in his sleep, his weakened hand briefly squeezing his grunkle’s. Stan ducked his head, turning his face away, his vision growing blurry.

Dipper wanted him. Oh damn, Dipper really wanted him there.

Dipper was comforted by him.

Stan’s body heaved in a singular, silent sob. But he stifled his emotions, promising himself he’d cry later where the kid couldn’t see. That didn’t quite matter, however, as Dipper was already fast asleep again, under his fever.

Stan covered his face in his free hand, squeezing Dipper’s small one as his shoulders shook and a small droplet traced its way down his cheek.

—XXX—

Stan didn’t realize he had fallen asleep until he was awake. The clock read 6:00AM.

He’d fallen asleep on his bed next to Dipper, and while they were both asleep his revered nephew had nestled in the crook of Stan’s arm, his small hands gripping Stan’s shirt in tight little fists.

Stan smiled at him and noticed that the boy was no longer shivering with fever, instead looking quite peaceful, even if his breathing was slightly irregular.

He didn’t want to, but Stan gently shook Dipper awake with the intent of getting something in the child’s stomach.

“Hey buddy. You wanna sit up and try to get something in that stomach of yours?” Stan asked softly.

Dipper made a soft whining sound and nuzzled his face more firmly into Stan’s side. Stan chucked.

“Come on. Up you get kiddo.” Stan helped him sit up and gently pulled Dipper into his arms, settling the small boy against his shoulder. “Let’s go find you something easy, huh?”

Stan took the young boy to the kitchen and settled him in a chair, which seemed to help him wake up a bit. He followed Stan’s progress around the kitchen as Stan heated some applesauce for him and set a small pack of saltine crackers on the table in front of him.

“Why don’t you try nibbling on one of those? Take it slow. And you can have small sips of ginger ale, okay?”

Stan went about warming the applesauce, and then brought it over to Dipper with a spoon. Dipper glanced at the applesauce and then up at Stan, his tired brown eyes slightly confused.

“It’s for you,” Stan murmured, pushing the warm bowl so it was right in front of him. “Hopefully you’ll like it. Or at least your stomach might.”

Dipper nodded, lifting the spoon to his lips and gently nibbling at the applesauce as though he were scared it would hurt him.

“Don’t worry, kid, it’s just a little bit of applesauce,” Stan chuckled, sitting down across Dipper with a mug of coffee.

Dipper nodded. “I know,” he said thickly, sniffling slightly. “Why are you…so…” Dipper trailed off, looking at Stan quizzically.

Stan glanced to the side and then back at his nephew. “Why am I so what?” he asked, bewildered.

Dipper sighed. “Why are you being so nice to me?” he asked in a soft, timid voice, staring down at his applesauce, his fever-flushed cheeks turning crimson.

Stan chuckled. “I’ve been pretty tough on ya otherwise, haven’t I?” he asked, feeling slightly saddened. Seeing his nephew so small tonight had made him change his mind. Of course, Dipper could still be roughed up a bit to make him tougher. But he needed more than that from his caretaker.

He needed to be built up too.

Stan was almost ashamed that he’d only just realized all this. He reached across the table and gently placed his hand on Dipper’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry, kid. When push comes to shove, I care about you and Mabel, and Wendy and Soos more than anybody on the planet,” Stan said. He omitted one person, but that came easily. “I may not act like it. And I sure don’t like saying it–heck, it makes me look like a big ol’ sap, huh? But whether I like saying it or not, it’s the truth.”

And it was the truth. Most of it. Stan couldn’t tell Dipper about Ford. He wasn’t ready for that conversation.

Dipper looked down at the table, clearly unsure of what to make of this. Stan lifted his hand from Dipper’s shoulder and instead tilted his chin upwards a little.

“Hey, now. It’s okay, buddy,” Stan said with a small, weary smile.

“You’ve spent all night caring for me,” Dipper whispered.

And working on the portal. “I’d do it a million times over too,” Stan answered. “If it helped ya feel any better.”

Dipper’s face broke into a small, but genuine smile. He reached for his applesauce.

“Attaboy, Mason,” Stan said without thinking as Dipper took a bite of the applesauce.

Dipper nearly spat it out, but instead quickly swallowed and wiped his mouth on his sleeve, with an expression that reminded Stan starkly of a startled owl.

“H-How’d you know my name is Mason?” he spluttered, his eyes wide and his face flushed again. Stan grimaced nervously.

“I…uh…saw you and Mabel in the hospital just after you were born,” he told Dipper. “And it wasn’t like I was just gonna forget your names.”

Dipper was staring at him with a mixture of surprise and some type of hopefulness on his face. But he didn’t say anything else.

After a minute, Dipper went back to his applesauce. Stan gently touched the back of his hand to the kid’s forehead, discovering that his fever was fully gone.

“There we go,” he murmured with a satisfied sigh. “You’re gonna be just fine.”

---

hope u like it! lemme know if y'all want part three.

Peace out!

Part One

[chobblesomewrites]

Grumbo Professional Esports AU (abandoned work)

A collection of drabbles/scenes rearranged in chronological order featuring Team Coach Mumbo x Pro Player Grian. Warning; makes use of League of Legends/MOBA Mechanics. Unrealistic depiction of the esports scene.

No, this will not be fully written or edited. Prepare for weird pacing and incoherence. I'M JUST POSTING THIS SO I CAN STOP BEING ASKED ABOUT IT </3

—————

[ READ BELOW ]

Mumbo wasn't one for competitive games, but he had made exceptions from time to time. Those times mostly due to his online best friend wanting to drag him to experience almost anything and everything with him.

He wouldn't have even dreamed of touching MOBA games if it weren't for Grian begging him to, excusing that no one else but Mumbo was actually willing to deal with his competitive nature. He had first refused, firmly wanting to stick to his farming simulator games, but Grian knew too well how to act like a brat to get what he wanted.

So he found himself on [                ]’s tutorial screen, anxiously going through it while Grian remained in the Discord call with him, giggling at every noise he made every time he jumped from the sight of an enemy NPC.

“You lied when you said this game had a farming mechanic,” Mumbo accused his friend with a whine as he spam clicked on a highlighted enemy minion, clicking his tongue when he missed the gold.

Grian cackled, “Well, killing minions for gold is called farming. So technically I wasn't lying?”

Mumbo let out an audible huff of betrayal, which made Grian laugh even more as he tried killing his character to the minions out of spite.

—

Mumbo had thought he wouldn't be playing the game as often, for the main reason he had the game at all was because Grian occasionally didn't have anyone to play with, as he said. But he had plenty of friends so Mumbo didn't feel the need to open the game as he would probably be the last person on Grian's friendlist to be asked.

But dear lord was he wrong.

After getting bullied for his lack of game knowledge for one night, Grian kept inviting him to duo queue every single day. Mumbo would've been led to believe that Grian actually didn't have friends except for him if it weren't for their friends occasionally coming by to 5 man queue with them. But even then, that led Mumbo questioning even more of Grian's motives to specifically invite him of all people, adding to the fact that Grian apparently hated playing ADC but specifically only played it when in duo queue with Mumbo.

It was confusing. So, so confusing. Mumbo was so pants at the game yet Grian just kept inviting him nonetheless!

So, Mumbo thought; if Grian wanted to play with him that badly, he'd have to adjust his mentality to make sure that his best friend was actually having fun. He wasn't just here to keep Grian company anymore, he was here to now help Grian actually enjoy his games.

On weekday nights Grian would be too busy to get online, Mumbo used his free time to get on custom and try out other heroes outside of just support. He specifically tried mid laners in hopes to give Grian more opportunities to play roles outside of ADC, trying to prove that Mumbo was more than capable of handling himself!

He learned the map, how to invade, how to dodge, how to properly farm– everything. He needed to learn everything.

If it was for Grian, he'll take on everything.

–

[ DEFEAT ]

“....”

The call was silent, save for Grian who did horribly to muffle his laughter. Mumbo groaned in embarrassment into his hands, “Midlaning is hard,” he admitted in a mumble, which caused Grian to outright laugh into his mic.

“You didn't have to force yourself to try.”

“But you like playing jungle.” Mumbo pouted.

“Not all the time! Who on earth even says they like playing jungle?”

Mumbo sighed as he clicked off the after-game stats, returning back to their party lobby to see Grian already waiting to start the queue. The man already set himself back to the ADC role and it made Mumbo slump even more in guilt over his desk.

By some magical force, Grian probably felt his bad mood and he reassured with a smile, “I still think it's more fun if we're laning together.”

“You get to spoil me and you'd only have eyes for me!” Grian teased.

Mumbo felt himself flush red at that. Not knowing how to quip back, he simply said, “Shut up.”

–

5 man queues are always fun. It means Mumbo could just turn off his brain and listen to his friends talk and trash talk without having to say much because there's enough of them to hold the conversation together.

Mumbo was about to fully zone out while watching Grian’s character farm freely in their lane when he heard him speak up about something in their team's idle conversation on call.

“You know, I actually plan to be a professional gamer.”

From whatever conversation the call was going through, everyone in their friend group broke into laughter at Grian's admittance. Mumbo could hear Grian's pout as he tried to defend his dream, “I'm serious here!”

Their friends laughed even more, “How plausible would that even be as a job? We're just teenagers, dude. Who would wanna sign kids like us?”

Their words were obviously just trying to tease Grian, but Grian didn't take it lightly. The ADC went quiet as the friends in call continued on about how ridiculous of a scene it would be if anyone of them were to actually turn out to be 

Out of nowhere, Mumbo suddenly spoke up, “I think it's not impossible.”

The conversation paused and Mumbo suddenly felt conscious of the attention on his words. Nonetheless, he continued on, “I believe in you, if you are still going to try.”

“I'll try it with you.”

The call bursted into laughter again, even Grian couldn't help but giggle, which made Mumbo feel hot in the face from embarrassment. He spent the rest of the game making so many mistakes because the entire call kept teasing him for making such bold declarations.

He was able to live through 2 games of that until the other 3 friends in their team decided to log off, leaving him with Grian. Mumbo had thought that he would log off too, but he simply clicked the queue button without saying anything, leaving 

2 minutes into the queue, Grian finally spoke up, “I'm holding you up to that promise, you know.”

“You better go professional with me.”

Mumbo wonders if he's gonna regret promising that, given how ominous Grian makes it sound as if he's sold his soul to the devil. But if the devil were Grian, he finds that he doesn't really mind missing a part of himself.

–

Ever since that promise, Grian had been relentless with playing with Mumbo. Not that he wasn't always relentless before, but Grian was now determined to actually help Mumbo catch up to his level. They've even started custom 1v1s in hopes to improve.

Other people, if they were in Mumbo's position, would've been annoyed. Given how Grian tends to get frustrated eventually, Mumbo just takes it as a sign to be better. He couldn't slack.

He knew that Grian wasn't specifically frustrated at his skills, he was frustrated and anxious of the possibility that Mumbo wouldn't be able to sign with him if he didn't improve. They needed to do it together, Grian was stubborn to make sure of that fact.

So Mumbo didn't fault him for he loved him.

–

“Are you signed to a team?”

An account that was obviously a smurf had privately messaged him one time after a solo queue game Mumbo played while waiting for Grian. He ignored it, assuming that it was a scammer pretending to be a professional. He even went to quickly unfriend the account with this thought in mind and sat in the party lobby for a few minutes before a friend request came in.

“Xvoid,” Mumbo murmured out. He frowned and leaned back on his chair in thought, wondering if he's seen that username before. Probably in his other games, but Mumbo doesn't really actively pay attention to the randoms he and Grian match up with.

It was when he was about to decline the friend request that Grian joined the lobby with a very loud, “Mumbo Dumbo Bumbo Jumbo!”

“Grian,” Mumbo returned the sentiment, sounding more exasperated than excited like Grian. His friend must've realized something from that tone difference as he immediately questioned, “What's up?”

“Someone messaged me about signing to a team and now I'm trying to remember who this XVoid person is.”

Grian made a noise of surprise, “XVoid? Xisuma?”

“Who?”

“The Captain of [            ]! I thought we watched enough live streams together to know this?”

“... Grian, I only know Etho in that team!”

Grian made a noise of offense and went off on a tangent about each and every member of the team that was not Etho, scolding Mumbo for being a ‘solo fan’. Mumbo ignored him, hovering his mouse over Xisuma's friend request.

If it is the captain of that team, Mumbo can only assume that this was probably just a fan account. It didn't hurt to accept it. He's had a lot of friends in his friend list that he decidedly ignored a lot anyway. He just accepts them for the sake of filling that friend list.

With that over with, Mumbo started the queue, still ignoring Grian who was scolding his ear off.

–

Mumbo should've known there was going to be more to the friend request than he realized. What he assumed was a fan account was actually just the professional player's sub account.

Xisuma's team had taken notice of Mumbo, and even personally invited him to be their main team's support rather than simply being a substitute. Mumbo was about to disagree at first, discussing with Grian that he still wanted to play professionally with him, but Grian didn't stall him. He simply said;

"Go," and Mumbo had thought Grian hated him for being noticed by a team until he added, "I'll catch up."

And they left it at that. Mumbo signed with Xisuma's team as their support player but didn't even get to react properly that his online best friend didn't message him at all anymore as he was forced to move to a team provided account, leaving his personal one to the dust.

–

Mumbo's esports career didn't last longer than four years, but it was a good start for a while. He didn't have any experience whatsoever but his team was kind enough to help him throughout. He also found that a lot of people seem to like his awkward attitude so he didn't feel the need to upkeep a certain persona.

But with the constant change of meta to aggressive supports, his steady gameplay had no use in any team comps. It didn't help that, at every tournament, he got sadder and sadder the more he realized he couldn't see a certain username anywhere in both domestic and international teams even after a while. 

Grian wasn't there. The reason he was here at all, wasn't there. 

He had been moved to a substitute player midway through his career, replaced with someone more younger and aggressive in playstyle, his other teammates had also either retired or moved to better teams. The team’s management was still fond of him and he was only really kept for the fans' sentiments, but Xisuma didn't want him to live the rest of his life as a decoration, noticing the way Mumbo didn't enjoy his current status. The team they were in contract with wasn't getting any better either. They weren't going anywhere like this. Their skills could be put to more use somewhere. 

They couldn't accept the current state of things when they hadn't even won a single international championship to their name. Xisuma owed Mumbo at least a trophy for signing him up for the big leagues at such a young age that he could've used the time to explore more of his life.

He had offered Mumbo two things; Xisuma would pay so he could go back to college, or he could sign to Xisuma's budding esports company for a new chance.

As a coach, that is.

Mumbo had almost been tempted to say he would rather go back to studying, but Xisuma added more to his offer that he couldn't refuse; "You can choose the team. You'll be their main coach, after all."

Mumbo remembered that someone still promised to catch up, and he'd be willing to be a coach if it meant dragging him up here.

He promised. They promised they'd go together.

For the first time in a few years, Mumbo logged back in to his old account and clicked on a familiar user on his friend list.

"Grian,"

"You there?"

–

Mumbo wasn't confident for a while that Grian would reply back. It had been a good long while, after all. Would Grian even remember him? Mumbo's sure he himself hasn't forgotten the other, but he doesn't know if the sentiments are the same. 

Mumbo didn't really have the time to be too anxious about it either, busy helping Xisuma with properly setting up the company while also looking for managers and analysts to help him with forming the team.

The next time he finally checked his account again, he was disappointed when there was no message back. But one thing that gave him hope was when Grian’s user was lit up. He was online. And Mumbo could see damn well that his best friend, if he could still call him that, was actually just struggling to come up with a reply, especially when the indication of the other person typing kept popping up and disappearing over and over.

At least, with that, Mumbo knows that he wasn't fully ignored.

After a bit of waiting, he decided to give mercy to whatever message Grian is taking this long to send.

"Queue?"

And then the indication of Grian typing stopped. Then replying,

"You literally returned from war after how many and your first message is to ask to queue?? Not even gonna say hi to the kids?"

Mumbo burst out laughing. Somehow, it feels as if he never left for the professional scene and is back to his teenage self.

"How are you?"

"Got wife and kids."

Mumbo frowned at that, "Seriously?"

"No, you idiot. I'm this young and you think I'd have a kid already?"

"..." Mumbo rolled his eyes

"So what have you been doing this entire time?” I waited for you to catch up. Did you lie to me?

“Well one of us had to go to college, Mumbo.”

“Low Blow.”

“My bad.” Grian then typed, “Queue?”

“So now you’re trying to distract me by asking to play?”

“It's also been a while. I'm itchin’.”

Mumbo checked the time. He's fairly free for the rest of the day. And it's been a while since he's had genuine fun in the game, “Well, we ‘oughta scratch it!”

“Attaboy!”

–

They queue together for a while. Mumbo's old account had considerably ranked down so they were in lower elos. It wasn't that hard to win easily.

Grian was still good at the game, probably even better. He could catch up with Mumbo’s thinking, and Mumbo’s got the professional experience. One thing that bothered him was that Grian didn’t initiate a call like they always did years ago. Comms and all. Mumbo was left with Grian’s spam pinging and visual cues. Mumbo was too shy to ask about it, so he forced himself to be happy enough with Grian playing around with the emotes when they were idle in lane.

But surprisingly, when Mumbo thought they were about to log out, Grian told him to get in-game party call;

“Mumbo.” Oh, Mumbo has not heard that voice in a long time. Grian sounds less like a squeaker now. The long duration of having not spoken to each other was now extremely evident.

Mumbo forgot to greet back, and he didn’t get a chance to, as Grian spoke up again, “Why exactly did you message me again? Surely it's not to play, not when we could've done this for the past years.”

Mumbo didn’t know what to say for a moment. Would it be too rude to ask Grian about his previous interest in esports? Would that seem like he’s trying to flaunt at him or mock him?

His mouth twitched in hesitation, “Are you… still interested in going professional?”

“...” Grian didn’t reply, and Mumbo somehow felt even more desperate.

“You said you’d catch up.”

“I…” Grian sighed into the mic, seeming a little agitated, “Opportunities don't come as easily for me as it did for you, Mumbo.”

Mumbo furrowed his eyebrows, staring at Grian's little cat icon in disbelief, “...And so you gave up, just like that?”

“It wasn't just like that!” Grian defended. He sounded a little pissed off that Mumbo couldn't help but go quiet. At the silence, Pesky muttered an apology and calmed his tone, “Look, I- I really tried, alright? It was pressuring.”

Mumbo opened his mouth to ask what exactly pressured him but Grian beat him to it as he rambled on, “I lost my everyday duo to some team I couldn't even enter myself. Mum kept urging me to give up and go to college, but–” the voice on the other end cracked slightly but he took a long enough pause to steady himself, “I didn't want to- You, you were waiting, up on those big stages, looking around those stadiums like some lost little dog abandoned by their owner–”

“I was not some lost little dog!” Mumbo squeaked out in embarrassment, wondering if he really looked like that in the game livestreams, “How would you even know I was looking for you?!”

Grian’s smug smile could be heard in his tone, “I didn't say you were looking for me.”

Mumbo went quiet and murmured whinily, “You implied….”

The call was filled with Grian's giggling and Mumbo let himself enjoy the embarrassment for a brief moment before moving the topic along, “Anyway, I did say I was going to disagree to join them, but you urged me to accept it. I said I could've waited until we could sign together–”

“But you like the game, don't you, Mumbo?”

Caught quite off-guard, Mumbo gave his question a thought. He did like the game. Understanding the mechanics and strategy of it is fun. Winning a game was actually exciting since the winning conditions needed good skill and awareness to achieve, but… 

He only ever truly loved playing it because Grian was there. His best friend was a part of everything he loved about the game.

Mumbo was quiet and he couldn't find it in himself to actually admit his true opinions. Grian assumed that he was just embarrassed to admit that he liked the game and decided to move on, “So it was unfair to you. I couldn't drag you down. I know we promised to do it together, but that doesn't have to cost your possible futures.”

Mumbo chewed on his lip and once again quietly asked, “But are you still interested in playing?”

“Mumbo, I never stopped playing despite,” Grian said. An indirect message admitting that; he wants to play. He's always wanted to play. He never once gave up on the dream to. He's just a little late. “I wouldn't have queued with you today if I wasn't.”

Mumbo was hopeful at that admittance and he was quick to say, “Then play for me.”

“What?”

It was Grian's turn to be caught off-guard this time, sputtering in confusion and in disbelief. Mumbo could hear him sit straight on his chair, judging by the squeaking picked up by his mic, “No, that's- You shouldn't be practicing nepotism, Mumbo-”

Mumbo made a noise caught between a whine and a groan, “It's not nepotism if it's the coach's job to assemble a team of good players,” he defended. Grian was in even more disbelief this time as he caught on as to what Mumbo was getting at.

“Coach? What happened to your original team–? They still had you as a substitute…”

“Capt– X paid for the separation fee.”

Grian’s voice raised a little, “Then who and what the hell are you coaching for?”

Mumbo took a deep breath, needing to steady himself to be able to explain to Grian the situation without making it worse, “Look, I know you said you specifically wanted to play for a well-known team and, currently, X's company is just fairly knew–”

“Oh my god…” Grian muttered, his voice was muffled like he was burying his face in his hands. Mumbo ignored him as he continued to explain.

“He invited me to be the main coach, to set up the team to how I see fit since he had trust in the way I was at least aware of what was right, who was capable– Well, not to be blunt, but I have the skills to be able to strategize for an entire time and–”

Grian cut his ramble off, “You… you didn't do all this just for me, did you?”

Yes, I did. 

But, “No,” was what Mumbo said instead. “I still like the game, but I'm still not overly aggressive and competitive enough to be successful as a player, as you know.”

Silence that befell the call after that and it worried Mumbo as he didn't know if Grian could trust that reason. He was just about to continue his little persuasion when he was cut off again.

“I'm joining.”

“Before you– Wait, you are?!”

“Well, someone's gotta make sure you're not making wrong decisions! Who do you think taught you the game?! And you're planning to be the coach!?”

Mumbo couldn't even be sheepish at the underlying tone of being scolded. He was happy enough to hear Grian agree to joining even when doubt was evident in the other’s tone.

He’ll just have to show he’s capable of being Grian’s support, like always.

–

“Grian!” Mumbo had called out excitedly, approaching the man who held such a name. Maybe he was jogging more than politely approaching. Who was to blame him for being excited by the idea of finally meeting his long time online best friend face to face?

Grian’s shoulders jumped in surprise and he couldn't help but turn to look, looking even more stunned as he wasn't given time to react to the sudden hug Mumbo forced him into. His arms couldn’t find where to place itself, eventually relaxing on Mumbo’s back as he hugged back with equal eagerness.

The shorter man couldn’t help but laugh, “You’re surprisingly taller in real life, coach!”

Mumbo froze and pulled away to look at him weirdly, “Already calling me coach?”

“What? Were you actually not planning to sign me?”

Coach Mumbo winced and shook his head panickedly, “Goodness, of course we’re still planning to sign you, it’s just–” he hunched over and pouted a bit, “Isn’t coach a little too formal for us?”

Grian nudged Mumbo playfully, “Get used to it. You wanted this job. Didn’t you, coach?”

Mumbo pouted even more, slightly red in the face, “You don’t find me calling you jungler, do you?”

“I’m not signed yet so you can’t officially call me that yet,” the dirty blonde man then grinned wide, “For now, you can refer to me as darling.”

“Oh, stop it.”

–

Officially signing Grian up as the company’s first player was like a fever dream, even Grian himself would agree, and he’s had plenty of disbelieving things happening to himself. Even now when he was fully acquainted and settled into the residence provided by the team, he couldn’t believe that he was actually… what he dreamed of.

Grian glanced to his side, watching his coach scroll through some gameplay videos for possible teammates. Somehow, it felt right that the online best friend who nerds out about strategies that he can’t apply himself, was the tall man beside him.

Though honestly, Grian still expected Mumbo to be some hunched over nerd like he was. Who knew the man had not only looks and height, he had better posture than Grian.

The dirty blonde slumped in his chair and zoned out as Mumbo started introducing possible teammates, offering him options to form whatever team he wanted.

Grian didn’t listen much, still a little out of it. It is fairly weird that the coach of all people was asking the player who he wanted as teammates when it was supposed to be mainly the coach’s and the management’s job.

“Can I really pick the rest of my teammates?” He cut off Mumbo’s muttering in a familiar manner. Mumbo, as always, didn’t take offense and answered him.

“Of course.”

“And you’d support me?”

They held each other's stare longer than they should've. Mumbo broke into a smile.

“As I always have.”

–

“You’re stressing out Pearl again.”

Grian was half laying on his chair and lazily scrolling through the Grumbo tag on social media when Mumbo had come up to him with an unamused frown. Grian had half the respect for his coach to fix his seating arrangement and sat up properly to flash an innocent smile at Mumbo.

“I don’t seem to follow.”

Mumbo tugged at his hair in distress, familiar with Grian’s pretend dumb strategy. As a coach, you’d think that understanding strategies would be kept to the game, not applied even to his troublesome players.

“Sorry, let me rephrase then. You’re giving both Pearl and the PR team an extremely hard time to defend your honor.”

Grian sighs wistfully, “But you are my honor.”

Mumbo groaned and flushed red at that, “You’ve made that extremely clear with your interview!”

The dirty blonde shrugged and didn’t seem at all unapologetic. Seeing that he was once again going nowhere with attempting to horribly scold Grian, he leaned down and apologetically pecked the man on the forehead. Grian visibly perked up at that and blinked at Mumbo like he was expecting more.

Mumbo didn’t give him more, simply rolled his eyes and turned to leave, “Redo the interview tomorrow and you can negotiate for more.”

“MUUUUUUUUUUMBOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” Grian’s complaints fell to no one’s ears as Mumbo left the training room.

[isthiscoinsidenceorasign]

She's Theirs: Who Has to Know When We Live Such Fragile Lives

Title: Who Has to Know When We Live Such Fragile Lives

Summary: Nick, Jake, and Bradly wake up the next morning and discus getting to know each other more .

Word Count:  5,305

Warnings: Mostly fluff, cuddling, suggestive talk about sex, mentions of a parent who died.

Tags: fluff

Author Notes: Hey y'all! here's chapter two. There's no smut in this one, it's mostly fluff which would probably explain why its shorter. Originally this chapter was going to be a lot longer but I broke it up into multiple chapters. I also added a song again to the chapter. Most chapters will have songs for titles or a lyric from a song as a title. So I thought I'd add the songs I end up choosing. It anyone is interested I'm looking at making a playlist for my story. If you are I'll post it once I've got it together. Anyways enjoy and if you'd like to be added to the tag list leave me a comment!

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the tangled bodies on the bed. Nichole stirred first, her eyes fluttering open as the pleasant ache in her muscles reminded her of the night before. Two bodies pressed against her, their warmth cocooning her in a sense of shared intimacy.

Jake lay draped across her front, his face nestled in the crook of her neck, an arm wrapped protectively around her waist. Behind her, Bradley's steady breathing ruffled her hair as his chest rose and fell against her back. His arm rested lazily over her hip, completing the picture of quiet contentment.

Nichole savored the moment, a soft smile tugging at her lips as the memories of the previous evening resurfaced. She shifted slightly, causing Jake to mumble something incoherent and snuggle closer into her.

A low rumble broke the silence, Bradley's voice brushing warmly against her ear. "Mmm, morning," he murmured, his arm tightening around her.

Nichole turned her head to meet his gaze, a soft smile curving her lips.

"Morning," she whispered, her voice gentle to avoid disturbing Jake.

Bradley's dark eyes lingered on her face, warm and content. He leaned in, brushing a tender kiss against her shoulder. "Sleep well?"

"Better than I have in ages," Nichole murmured, her voice still thick with sleep and satisfaction. She reached back, her fingers threading through his short hair, savoring the quiet intimacy.

Jake stirred then, lifting his head with a groan. "What time is it?" he mumbled, his words muffled against Nichole's skin.

"Early," Bradley replied, amusement flickering in his tone. "We’ve got time before we need to report in."

Jake’s green eyes opened lazily, locking onto Nichole with a grin that was equal parts charm and mischief. "Good," he drawled, his lips trailing deliberately along her collarbone, sending a shiver through her. "Because I’m not done with you yet."

Nichole's breath hitched as Jake's lips traveled lower, his intent unmistakable. "We have briefing at 0800," Bradley reminded him, as Nichole’s body was already responding to his touch.

"But that's two hours away," Bradley murmured, his hand sliding up her bare side, fingertips tracing the curve of her breast. "Plenty of time."

"Efficient as always, Rooster," Jake smirked, the competitive glint in his eyes unmistakable even in the soft morning light. "But I think the lady deserves something a little more... thorough."

Nichole laughed, the sound transforming into a gasp as Jake's mouth found a particularly sensitive spot. "You two never stop competing, do you?"

"Only when it benefits you, sweetheart," Jake murmured against her skin, his breath hot and teasing.

"Who says we have to compete?" Bradley murmured against her ear, his voice low and husky. "I think we work pretty well as a team."

Jake looked up, his eyes dark with desire as he met Bradley's gaze over Nichole's shoulder. A silent understanding passed between them, and Nichole felt a thrill of anticipation race down her spine.

"What do you say, Nick?" Jake asked.

She thought about it for a moment before asking “How long is your briefing?”

“Only a few hours. Then we're free for the rest of the day.” Jake replied.

“Why don't you two come back here after. We can go grab lunch somewhere and then you can show me how well you work as a team. Assuming you'd both like that.”

Jake's eyes darkened with desire as he traced a finger along Nichole's jawline. "I think that sounds like an excellent plan," he murmured, his voice dropping to that husky timbre that never failed to make her pulse quicken.

"Delayed gratification," Bradley said with a slow smile, pressing his lips to the sensitive spot behind her ear. "Makes things more... intense."

Nichole shivered between them, her body already responding to their touches. "Is that a promise, Rooster?"

"You know it is," Bradley replied, his normally controlled expression giving way to something hungrier. His hand slid down her side, fingers tracing the curve of her hip with deliberate precision. "I always deliver on my promises."

Jake chuckled, the sound vibrating against her skin. "And they say I'm the cocky one." He shifted, propping himself up on one arm.

Nichole watched their friendly jousting and smiled. The idea of spending the next two hours lazily in bed, cuddled up in their arms and listening to their playful banter, suddenly seemed very appealing.

"You're both cocky," Nichole teased, her fingers trailing lazily over Jake's stubbled jaw. "But I wouldn't have it any other way."

Jake caught her wandering hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. "Smart woman," he murmured against her skin.

Bradley's arm tightened around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. "So, about that lunch plan..." he began, his voice a low rumble against her ear.

"Mmm, yes?" Nichole prompted, arching into his touch.

"I vote we skip it," Jake interjected, his green eyes sparkling with mischief. "Come straight back here instead."

Bradley's laugh rumbled through Nichole's body. "Impatient as always, Hangman."

"Can you blame me?" Jake retorted, his gaze sweeping appreciatively over Nichole's form.

"You do realize you both only met me last night? There's no need to rush into anything. Well... rush further into anything. Why not have lunch and see how it goes?"

Jake's expression softened, a rare flicker of vulnerability crossing his features. "You're right," he conceded, brushing a strand of hair from Nichole's face. "Lunch it is."

"Agreed," Bradley murmured, his breath warm against her neck. "We've got time."

Nichole felt a rush of affection for both men, touched by their willingness to slow things down. "Thank you," she said softly, turning to press a gentle kiss to Bradley's lips before doing the same to Jake.

"Don't thank us yet," Jake smirked, his usual cockiness returning. "We still have two hours before that briefing."

Bradley's hand slid lower, tracing lazy circles on her thigh. "Any ideas on how to pass the time?"

Nichole laughed, a throaty sound full of promise. "Oh, I can think of something. As long as it's not too vanilla for you."

"Vanilla? Sweetheart, that's not a word in my vocabulary," Jake drawled, his eyes darkening as he shifted closer, his hand sliding possessively up her thigh.

A small blush crept across her cheeks, something she wasn’t quite used to. "I was thinking we could cuddle until you both have to leave."

Jake's expression shifted from predatory to surprised, then softened into something almost tender. "Cuddle?" he repeated, as if testing the word on his tongue.

Bradley's low chuckle vibrated against her back. "I think you've managed to render Hangman speechless, Nick. That's a first."

"I can do cuddles," Jake recovered quickly, though Nichole caught the slight uncertainty in his voice. His usual swagger momentarily gave way to something more vulnerable.

"You sure?" Nichole teased, reaching up to trace his jawline. "If it's too much for you..."

Jake narrowed his eyes playfully, accepting the challenge. "Move over, Rooster. I'm about to show you both how cuddling is done."

He repositioned himself, pulling Nichole halfway on top of him, one arm wrapped securely around her waist while his other hand tangled in her hair. Bradley shifted to accommodate them, pressing close against Nichole's back and draping his arm over both of them.

Nichole sighed contentedly, nestling her head against Jake's chest. She could hear the steady thrum of his heartbeat and feel the rise and fall of his breath. Bradley's warmth enveloped her from behind, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her skin.

"This is nice," Jake murmured after a moment, sounding almost surprised at his own admission.

"Mmm," Nichole agreed, her eyes drifting closed. "Very nice."

Bradley pressed a soft kiss to the nape of her neck. "We should do this more often."

"Careful, Rooster," Jake teased. "I'm not that kind of man."

Bradley sighed. "That's not what I meant."

Nichole chuckled softly, the vibration of her laughter spreading through Jake's chest. "I think what Bradley means is that we should enjoy moments like this when we can. Right, Rooster?"

"Exactly," Bradley murmured, his breath warm against her skin. "Our lives don't lend themselves to lazy mornings very often."

Jake was quiet for a moment, his fingers absently playing with a strand of Nichole's hair. When he spoke, his voice held an unusual note of sincerity. "You're right. Both of you. This is... nice."

Nichole tilted her head to look up at him, touched by the uncharacteristic vulnerability in his expression. She reached up, tracing the line of his jaw with gentle fingers. "You know, Hangman, you're allowed to enjoy things that aren't high-octane or sexually charged."

Jake's lips quirked into a half-smile, his eyes softening as he caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. "I'm learning that," he admitted quietly. "Slowly."

"That's Hangman for you," Bradley murmured, his voice a warm rumble against Nichole's back. "Always goes full throttle when cruising speed would do."

"Says the man who calculates risk assessments in his sleep," Jake shot back, but there was no real heat in his words.

Nichole smiled, nestling deeper into their embrace. The dynamic between these two fascinated her—competitors who respected each other, rivals who understood each other in ways few others could. And now, somehow, she'd become entangled in whatever this was between them.

"My father would have an aneurysm if he knew I was in bed with two of the Navy Aviators' finest. He never was big into me dating pilots."

Jake's eyebrow arched with interest. "Oh? And why is that?" His fingers continued to trace lazy patterns along her skin.

"Daddy issues?" Bradley suggested with gentle teasing, his breath warm against her ear.

Nichole rolled her eyes, though neither man could see her face. "No, more like... professional concerns. He thinks pilots are too cocky, too reckless." She paused, a wry smile playing on her lips. "Can't imagine where he got that idea."

Jake grinned, unabashed. "Smart man, your father."

"You have no idea," Nichole murmured, a hint of something complex in her tone. "Captain Pete Mitchell isn't exactly someone you want to cross."

The sudden stillness from both men was palpable. Bradley's hand froze on her hip, and Jake's chest stopped mid-breath beneath her cheek.

"Your father's Maverick?" Bradley asked.

Nichole tensed, realizing what she'd just revealed. She hadn't meant to drop that bombshell so casually. "Um, yes," she admitted softly. "Captain Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell is my father."

The silence stretched for a long moment. Nichole could practically feel the gears turning in both men's heads as they processed this information.

Jake was the first to break the silence with a low whistle. "Well, shit," he muttered, his fingers resuming their absent-minded caress of her skin. "That explains a lot."

Bradley's arm tightened around her waist, pulling her closer. "Does he know you're here?" he asked, his voice carefully neutral.

Nichole nodded her head. "He does, but he doesn't know what's going on currently in my love life, and I'd prefer to keep it that way for now." She bit her lip, suddenly feeling vulnerable. "This... whatever this is between us... we probably shouldn't let him know about. Based on your reactions, I'm assuming you know my dad? Beyond his reputation."

Jake chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest. "You could say that. Your father was one of our instructors at TOPGUN."

"We were called in on a special detachment, and he was our instructor—until he pissed Cyclone off. But he managed to get his way out of trouble and became our team leader for the mission. I pretty much hated him before that," Bradley admitted.

Nichole nodded, absorbing everything they were telling her. For a moment, she froze, her eyes going wide with realization. "You're not Bradley Bradshaw, are you?"

"I am," he said, his tone steady yet soft.

"I’ve heard so much about your father," Nichole said, turning to face him fully, a new tenderness in her gaze. "Dad has a bunch of photos of him in his house. He and my mom... they named me after him."

Bradley’s breath caught, his eyes flickering with something unspoken—a mixture of pride, longing, and a quiet ache that settled deep in his chest. His jaw tightened, as if to steady himself. "Yeah," he murmured, the word almost breaking. "I’m Goose’s son. Your dad and mine flew together before..."

"Before the accident," Nichole finished for him, reaching up to touch his face gently. "He talks about your dad all the time. Says he was the best friend he ever had."

A brief silence stretched between them, heavy with significance. He swallowed hard, his lips pressing together as a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I didn’t know... that someone thought of him like that," he confirmed quietly.

"Before my mom and I came along, my dad considered him family. Your dad, your mom, and you."

Jake remained uncharacteristically quiet, his hand still resting on Nichole's hip, his thumb tracing small circles against her skin.

"This is..." Bradley ran a hand through his hair, looking suddenly conflicted. "Complicated."

"Understatement of the year, Rooster," Jake muttered, but his arm remained firmly around Nichole.

Nichole felt a knot forming in her stomach. "Does this change things?" she asked, hating the vulnerability in her voice but unable to hide it. "Because I really like you both and would like to get to know you two more."

Jake was the first to respond, his arm tightening around Nichole's waist. "It doesn't change how I feel," he said firmly, his green eyes intense as they met hers. "But it does complicate things."

Bradley nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Your father... he means a lot to both of us," he admitted. "In different ways. And I'd be lying if I said this doesn't add a layer of complexity to the situation."

Nichole bit her lip, looking between the two men. "I understand if you want to back out," she said softly. "I know my father can be... intense."

Jake snorted. "Intense is putting it mildly." But his grip on her didn't loosen. "Look, Nick, I'm not one to back down from a challenge. And I'm definitely not about to let your father scare me off.”

Bradley's hand found Nichole's, intertwining their fingers. "I agree with Jake," he said softly. "This is complicated, but it doesn't change how I feel about you—or about this... whatever it is between the three of us."

Nichole felt a wave of relief wash over her. "So you're both okay with keeping this quiet for now? At least until we figure out what exactly 'this' is?"

Jake nodded, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes. "Sneaking around behind Maverick's back? Sounds like fun to me."

"Jake," Bradley warned, though there was a hint of amusement in his tone.

"What? You can't tell me the idea doesn't add a little extra thrill," Jake smirked.

Nichole rolled her eyes but couldn't help the small smile tugging at her lips. "You're incorrigible, you know that?"

"Part of my charm," Jake replied with a wink, leaning in to press a quick kiss to her lips.

Bradley rolled his eyes, though his expression was tinged with fondness. "As long as we're all on the same page," he said, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on Nichole's hip. "We take this slow, keep it quiet, and see where it goes."

Nichole nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness flutter in her stomach. "Agreed. And if at any point anyone wants out, we talk about it. No hard feelings."

"Agreed," Jake echoed, his tone unusually serious. "Though I have to say, I'm not planning on going anywhere."

Bradley's arm tightened around her. "Neither am I," he said softly, his brown eyes intense as they met Nichole's.

A comfortable silence settled over the trio, each lost in their own thoughts about the unexpected turn of events. Nichole nestled deeper into their embrace, savoring the warmth and security she felt between them.

After a few moments, Jake broke the silence with a dramatic sigh. "Well, as much as I'd love to stay here all day, we do have that briefing to get to."

Bradley nodded reluctantly. "He's right. We should start getting ready."

Nichole pouted playfully. "Do you really have to go? I was just getting comfortable."

Jake grinned, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Trust me, sweetheart, there's nowhere else I'd rather be. But duty calls."

"Raincheck? After lunch, perhaps?"

"Raincheck definitely accepted," Jake murmured, his eyes darkening with promise. He leaned in, capturing Nichole's lips in a deep, lingering kiss that left her breathless.

Bradley watched them with heated eyes before gently turning Nichole's face toward him. "Don't forget about me," he teased softly, before claiming her mouth in a kiss that was equally passionate but tinged with a tenderness that made her heart flutter.

When they finally broke apart, all three were breathing heavily. Jake groaned, flopping back onto the bed dramatically. "You're making it very hard to leave, you know that?"

Nichole laughed, the sound light and carefree. "That's the idea, Hangman."

Bradley chuckled, pressing a final kiss to Nichole's shoulder before reluctantly sitting up. "Come on, Jake. The sooner we get this briefing done, the sooner we can come back."

Jake grumbled but followed suit, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "Fine, but I’m holding you both to that lunch date."

Nichole stretched languidly, enjoying the appreciative looks from both men as the sheet slipped down her body. "I’ll be counting the minutes," she purred.

The men dressed quickly, stealing glances in Nichole’s direction as they moved around the room. She watched from the bed, a contented smile on her face.

As they finished getting ready, Bradley paused by the bedside, leaning down to kiss Nichole softly. "See you soon," he murmured against her lips.

Jake followed suit, his kiss a touch more heated. "Don't have too much fun without us," he murmured with a wink.

Nichole laughed, giving him a playful shove. "Get going, flyboy. Wouldn't want you to be late."

The two men exchanged a look, a silent communication passing between them before heading for the door. Just before leaving, Jake turned back with his trademark cocky grin. "Hey, Nick, wear something easy to take off for lunch, yeah?"

Bradley rolled his eyes, grabbing Jake's arm. "Ignore him. Wear whatever makes you comfortable."

"I'll consider both suggestions," Nichole called after them, her laughter trailing them to the door. Before they could fully leave her bedroom, she called out again. "Hey, wait!"

They both paused, looking at her curiously. She tossed Jake her phone, which he caught with ease.

"I don't have either of your numbers."

Jake grinned, quickly punching his number into Nichole's phone before tossing it to Bradley. "Good thinking, sweetheart. Wouldn't want you to forget about us."

Bradley added his number as well, a small smile playing on his lips. "As if that were possible," he murmured, his eyes meeting Nichole's with an intensity that made her breath catch.

Jake snatched the phone back, snapping a quick selfie of the two of them before returning it to Nichole. "There. Now you've got something to look at while we're gone."

Nichole laughed, shaking her head at Jake's antics. "You two better get going before I change my mind and keep you here all day."

"Don't tempt me," Jake growled playfully, his eyes darkening with desire.

Bradley grabbed Jake's arm, practically dragging him toward the door. "Come on, Casanova. We're going to be late."

Jake allowed himself to be pulled along, but not before blowing Nichole an exaggerated kiss. "Until lunch, Darlin’!"

As the door closed behind them, Nichole flopped back onto the bed, a mixture of giddiness and disbelief washing over her. She couldn't quite believe what had transpired in the last 24 hours.

Reaching for her phone, she pulled up the selfie Jake had taken. Her breath caught as she studied their faces—Jake's cocky grin and Bradley's more reserved but equally intense gaze. How had she managed to end up entangled with not one, but two incredibly attractive and complex men?

Outside her apartment, Jake and Bradley walked to the elevator in silence until Bradley cleared his throat.

"You and I are going to have to talk about this at some point."

Jake glanced at Bradley as they waited for the elevator, his usual cocky grin softening into something more serious. "Yeah, I know," he said quietly. "This is... complicated."

Bradley nodded, his expression thoughtful. "That’s putting it mildly, Hangman."

The elevator doors opened with a soft ding, and they stepped inside. As the doors closed, Jake leaned against the wall, running a hand through his hair. "Look, Rooster, I know we've had our differences, but I'm not trying to mess things up here. With you or with Nick."

Bradley studied Jake for a moment before responding. "I believe you," he said finally. "And I'm not either. But we need to figure out what this is—what we're doing."

Jake nodded, his usual bravado absent. "Agreed. But just so we’re clear… whatever this is doesn't mean I'm sexually attracted to you. It's strictly about Nichole."

Bradley chuckled, shaking his head. "Relax, Hangman. I'm not looking to get into your pants either. This is about Nichole."

Jake visibly relaxed, a smirk returning to his face. "Good. Because I don't think you could handle all this," he gestured to himself with a cocky grin.

"You wish," Bradley retorted, but there was no heat in his words. The elevator doors opened, and they stepped out into the lobby.

As they walked toward the base, Jake's expression grew serious again. "So, how do we do this? I mean, I've never been in a... whatever this is before."

Bradley shrugged, his own uncertainty showing. "Me neither. I guess we take it one day at a time. Be honest with each other, and with Nichole. And maybe set some ground rules?"

Jake nodded. "Assuming this goes anywhere beyond today. What if she just wanted a threesome with two naval aviators?"

Bradley considered Jake's words as they walked. "It's possible," he admitted. "But I don't think that's all this is. The way she looked at us, talked to us... it felt like more than just a casual hookup."

Jake nodded slowly. "Yeah, I got that feeling too," he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "Plus, she suggested lunch. That's not exactly one-night stand behavior."

"Agreed," Bradley said. "So we proceed under the assumption that this could be something more, but we stay open to whatever Nichole wants. No pressure, no expectations."

"Sounds good to me," Jake replied. He was quiet for a moment before adding, "And what about us? How do we navigate this... whatever it is?"

Bradley sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I think we need to be on the same page. No competition when it comes to Nichole. We both care about her, and we both want this to work, whatever 'this' is."

Jake nodded, his expression remaining serious. "Agreed. No trying to one-up each other or push the other out. We're in this together, for Nichole's sake."

"And we need to be honest with each other," Bradley added. "If one of us starts feeling uncomfortable or wants out, we talk about it. No hard feelings."

"Agreed," Jake said, extending his hand. "Partners?"

Bradley took Jake's hand, shaking it firmly. "Partners."

As they approached the base, Jake's trademark smirk returned.

"You know, Rooster, I never thought I'd be making a deal with you that didn't involve a bet or a competition," Jake said, his trademark smirk returning as they approached the base entrance.

Bradley chuckled, shaking his head. "There's a first time for everything, Hangman. Who knows, maybe we'll even end up friends after all this."

Jake clutched his chest in mock horror. "Friends? With you? Don't push it, Bradshaw."

Bradley's expression grew more serious. "One more thing—we need to be careful. If word gets out about this..."

"It’ll complicate everything," Jake said, his tone grim. "Not to mention how Maverick would react if he found out."

Bradley winced at the thought. "Exactly. So we keep this under wraps. No telling anyone, no bragging." He shot Jake a pointed look.

They walked toward the locker room, preparing to change into their uniforms. Bradley opened his locker and pulled out his clothes.

Jake held up his hands defensively. "Hey, I can keep a secret when it matters. And this definitely matters."

"If you say so, Hangman."

"When have I ever let a secret slip? Name one time," he said as he slipped on the shirt of his uniform.

Bradley smirked, pulling on his pants. "How about the time you found out who my old man was and used it to piss me off in front of everyone?"

Jake paused mid-motion. "Okay, name another time."

Bradley laughed as he slammed his locker shut. "Just don't say anything. She said she doesn't want her dad to know, and we both know that's not a conversation anyone wants to have."

Once they finished getting ready, they made their way across the base.

As they entered the briefing room, Jake lowered his voice. "So, we're agreed? We take this slow, keep it quiet, and see where it goes with Nichole?"

Bradley nodded, his expression resolute. "Agreed. And we have each other's backs in this."

"Always," Jake replied, surprising himself with the sincerity in his voice.

They took their seats just as the commanding officer entered the room. As the briefing began, both men found their thoughts drifting back to the woman they'd left in bed. Whatever was happening between the three of them, it was clear that their lives were about to get a lot more complicated—and a lot more interesting.

Jake leaned over, whispering to Bradley. "Think we can convince the CO to make this briefing quick? I've got a hot date to get to."

Bradley rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress a small smile. "Focus, Hangman. The sooner we get through this, the sooner we can get back to Nichole."

Jake straightened in his seat, his expression growing more serious as he turned his attention to the briefing. But his mind kept wandering to the woman waiting for them, her green eyes and infectious smile etched in his memory.

Suddenly, Jake heard a ding from his pocket. As he reached for his phone, another ding sounded from Bradley’s direction.

Jake and Bradley discreetly glanced at their phones, seeing a new group chat notification from an unknown number. Curiosity piqued, they opened the message:

Unknown: Hope your briefing isn't too boring, boys. Just a little something to keep you motivated... ;)

Attached was a photo of Nichole, clearly taken just moments ago. She was lounging on the bed they had left her in, the sheet artfully draped across her body, leaving just enough to the imagination. Her hair was tousled, and she wore a coy smile that promised more to come.

Jake sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes widening as he took in the image. He quickly locked his phone screen, acutely aware of their surroundings.

Bradley's reaction was more subtle, but Jake noticed the flush creeping up his neck and the way his hands tightened on the edge of the table.

Jake and Bradley exchanged a quick glance, their eyes communicating volumes. Both men shifted in their seats, suddenly finding it much harder to focus on the briefing.

Jake's fingers itched to reply, but he knew better than to risk it during an official briefing. Instead, he forced his attention back to the commanding officer, though his mind kept drifting to the tantalizing image now seared into his memory.

Bradley, ever the professional, managed to maintain his composure, but Jake noticed the way his jaw clenched and unclenched, betraying his inner struggle.

As the briefing dragged on, both men found themselves checking the clock more frequently, willing the minutes to pass faster. The anticipation of their upcoming lunch date with Nichole was nearly palpable.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the commanding officer wrapped up the briefing.

Jake and Bradley were out of their seats in an instant, barely maintaining their composure as they hurried out of the briefing room. Once in the hallway, Jake grabbed Bradley's arm, pulling him into a quiet alcove.

"Did you see that photo?" Jake hissed, his eyes wide with a mixture of excitement and disbelief.

Bradley nodded, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I saw it. Jesus, she's... something else."

Jake grinned, his trademark cockiness returning. "You can say that again. So, what's the plan? Head straight back to her place?"

Bradley hesitated, his more cautious nature kicking in. "We should probably pick up our cars and shower before heading over there."

Jake groaned. "Right. Almost forgot about my car." He ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his voice. "Damn, that's going to add at least an hour."

Bradley nodded, looking equally disappointed. "I know, but we can't exactly show up to lunch like this." He spoke as they entered the locker room to change back into their civilian clothes.

Once they had finished changing, Jake sighed dramatically. "Fine, you're right. As usual." He pulled out his phone, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. "Should we let her know we'll be a bit longer?"

Bradley considered it for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, probably a good idea. Don’t want her thinking we're standing her up."

Jake quickly typed out a message to the group chat:

Jake: Sorry, Darling, slight change of plans. Need to grab our cars and freshen up. Give us an hour?

They waited anxiously for a response, which came almost immediately.

Nichole: Of course. That actually works out for me because I'm still getting ready myself.

Jake grinned at Nichole's response. "Well, at least she's not upset about the delay."

Bradley nodded, a small smile playing on his lips as they left the base. "Gives us all time to... get ready."

Jake's eyes gleamed mischievously. "Any ideas on where we should take her for lunch?"

Bradley thought for a moment. "There's that new bistro downtown. Quiet, discreet, good food. Might be perfect for what we need."

Jake nodded approvingly. "Good thinking, Rooster. I'll make a reservation."

As they walked toward the Hard Deck parking lot, Jake pulled out his phone again, quickly making a reservation for three at the bistro. Once confirmed, he sent another message to the group chat:

Jake: Made reservations at Bistro Nouveau for 1300. That work for everyone?

Bradley's phone buzzed with the message. He nodded approvingly. "Good choice. Nichole should like that place."

A moment later, Nichole's reply came through:

**Nichole:** Sounds perfect. Can't wait to see you both.

Jake grinned at her response. "Looks like we're all set then." He glanced at Bradley as they reached their cars. "See you in an hour?"

Bradley nodded, unlocking his car door. "Yeah. I'll meet you back here, and we can head over together."

As Jake slid into the driver’s seat of his truck, he couldn’t help the excited grin spreading across his face. Despite the complications, he was looking forward to exploring whatever this was with Nichole and Bradley.

He started the engine, his mind already racing with thoughts of the upcoming lunch date.

The image Nichole had sent during the briefing was seared into his memory, making it difficult to focus on anything else. He found himself driving a bit faster than usual, eager to get home and get ready.

Meanwhile, Bradley was having similar thoughts as he navigated the streets toward his apartment. The usually composed pilot found his hands gripping the steering wheel tighter than necessary, his body thrumming with anticipation. He couldn't remember the last time he’d felt this excited about a simple lunch date.

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[boiledprawn99]

Did you know I'm also a writer? Sort of. Anyway here's some more Pressure thoughts:

I saw some new dialogue between Painter (P) and Sebastian (S) today. P mentions that it's been two days since the lockdown started, and that S hasn't gotten any sleep at all during it. There's more to it but I want to focus on the "two days" thing.

It makes me think about the amount of time the game actually takes place in, and the game's story itself.

(Warning: long and probably very incoherent thoughts about Pressure's in-game timeline, mechanics and lore implications.)

Pre-WTW, we knew P and S were trying to slow the EXR-P down so that they didn't get the Crystal, because S needed more time to negotiate/find a way out for both of them. But, post-WTW, as soon as we reach S's shop, we have the option to tune the radio and find out that Innovation Inc is already confirming that they're going to collect the two. I'm assuming this radio change isn't something that happens after you play for a few times, and it's a part of the story that's existed before the player first steps into the Blacksite (more or less).

Then, during the Ridge, we find P at the dock mentioned in the radio broadcast, waiting for pickup. It seems that when the Blacksite loses power and everything goes offline, that's when "skies are clear"...? I'm sure, in any other circumstance, Urbanshade would notice a foreign vessel docking at the Blacksite and grow suspicious of it, especially if they're out for S and P.

So, if S needs the optimal time to escape being in the short time when the Crystal is obtained to when the backup power comes back online, why bother trying to stop the EXR-P from getting to it in the first place? If that's when the skies are clear, why still bother trying to halt the EXR-P?

This made more sense pre-WTW, when we (the player and S) had no confirmation if Innovation Inc had picked up on S's negotiations. But, post-WTW, the timeline's been changed so that Innv has already confirmed this deal before the player even reaches S's shop (again, the radio).

But it couldn't all happen that quickly, right? S still has to gather data, negotiate, set traps and scavenge. He didn't kill one guy, set a bunch of anomalies free, and then just go right to contacting other companies.

The player is in a time loop of sorts, we know. The question is: does time progress outside of that loop? When the player dies, does everything rewind back to how it was, minus Seb's and the player's memories? Evidence: grand encounters being reset, player spawning back at the docks. Contradictory evidence: Navi remembering if you've been to the Firewall or Abomination grand encounter. Or does the player respawn without everything being reset, and time still runs normally (like, a respawning immortal being type of situation). Evidence: S mentioning he found your corpse, Navi remembering you. Contradictory evidence: dying with the Crystal sets it back to where it was (wouldn't it just be on the ground with your corpse?), data respawns back.

Of course there's things that are just for gameplay reasons. Nobody can hold that much data (all those CDs, USBs, files, tapes... where do they go?). The player spends all this time trying to win, and it's only canonically been two days, allegedly. The timeline's still fuzzy, a lot of things are based on RNG, so you could get certain dialogue in places where it may not make a lot of sense? And, of course, it is a game.

The secret third option is that it is, canonically, a game. Of some sort. Lopee has crazy amounts of control over the narritive of Pressure (seen mostly in the bad ending), and we can assume he's the one that "resets" everything when the player dies. I see some people are linking it to Deltarune, with the player and Gaster, and like, yeah, that's basically what's going on here if we take everything at face value. Pressure is literally a game, we're not pretending we're a character in some fantasy universe like SCP: CB or Control, we are a Player piloting an expendable and there is an entity in this game making sure everything goes to plan for its own amusement, or in Urbanshade's favour. There's obviously a universe outside of the "game", but right now, everything inside the Blacksite has been literally gamified. Pressure is not a story, it is a game.

So anyway even before Worth the Wait I've been wondering what Pressure would be like if it was told as an actual story with a coherent narritive and timeline. What if the protagonist (which was the player) wasn't some vessel for something else? What if they were just a person, randomly selected by Lopee to play in his game and ensure Urbanshade wins? What if they could talk and react to everything happening to them?

Anyway yeah I'm making an AU and writing a fanfic, but whatever.

[knave-of-clubs]

The Brainworms are eating me alive so I need to talk about the Calamity Gems and their associated Traits

(Below will be a lot of probably incoherent words, spoilers for Amphibia (mostly S2), and The Brainworms. You've been warned.)

Okay okay okay, disclaimer: I'm relatively new to the Amphibia fandom, so if you read this and go, "Bro, literally everyone already knows that" then cut me some slack. That being said, I've been sitting on some of these concepts since I watched the Temple episodes a month or so ago and I'm very excited to share my madman ramblings with the class–

As y'all already know, the Temples go Wit, then Heart, then Strength, yeah yeah old news, right? Okay, here's the new parts:

Marcy, our Wit, was tested for the Trait of Wit, yes, but also the secondary Trait of Humility. Humility, as in the ability to put put aside your pride and "lower your standards", so to speak. Humility, the ability to look past your pride and connect to others. Sounding familiar?

Anne, our Heart, was tested for her Heart, but also for her sense of Responsibility. Her ability to look her mistakes in the face and say, "Yeah, those are mine." Her ability to take accountability for her actions, and to be accountable for the well-being of others. Y'all can maybe start to see where this is going?

Sasha, our Strength, was tested for her Trait of Strength, and her Trait of Persistence. Bear with me, we're stretching a little bit here. Persistence is the ability to, well, Persist. To keep going, whether there are people who believe in you or not (although it certainly helped that, in Sasha's case, people did have her back). Persistence isn't exactly near-synonymous with Wit like the other two pairs, but the two are inherently linked— that's why the First Temple had to test the Marcy's willingness to give up for the sake of others, because it's in her nature as the 'Star' of Wit to Persist No Matter What (more on that another time 'cause it's a Fun topic)

So, if y'all haven't guessed by now, I'm sure that last one made it obvious: what I'm suggesting is that each Temple tested its Star for a secondary Trait linked to the next Temple in the cycle. Put simpler— Marcy was tested for Heart in the Wit Temple, Anne was tested for Strength in the Heart Temple, and Sasha was tested for Wit in the Strength Temple. It's a circle!! (Triangle, really, but whatever)

Part of why I came to this conclusion was also because of the arcs of the Calamity Trio throughout all of that Temple business, as well as before/after it. This was the section of the story where Anne was learning to stand up for herself and bite back when people try to intimidate her into doing things she doesn't want, continuing from the S1 finale with Sasha. This was the section of the story where Marcy was being forced to acknowledge that she tends to treat people like NPCs and slowly learning how to actually form genuine connections with others in Amphibia. Sasha's a little bit harder to pin down given that she only got two episodes before showing up at the Third Temple, but we know for a fact that Sasha "Queen of Manipulation" Waybright already had Wit to an extent— I think that what we see instead in "Toadcatcher" and "Barrel's Warhammer" is her acquiring Persistence by pushing herself harder and harder in training after losing Anne and giving up greater prices for the sake of her goals (which causes her to lose Percy and Braddock). This pattern of acquisition also, interestingly enough, seems to carry through to the S3 arcs as well, and by the finale all three girls seem to each have their own full set of Traits— but I'm not gonna ramble about that, I can do that in another post.

I think I've done a decent job of explaining myself here? But I'm gonna drop some assorted thoughts to see if I can make this more cohesive, because I analyse specific word choices way too much:

Heart is a value based on connecting to people, on seeing them and being there for them and loving them come Hell or high water. It's only natural that, when looking for a true Star to represent it, you need to make sure that they have the Strength to take Responsibility for their mistakes, and that they can handle the Responsibility of protecting the people they care about.

Strength is based on brute force, on fighting tooth and nail and being a steady 'rock' someone can depend on. So, if you want to rely on someone, you need to know that they have Persistence, that they're never going to give up when they commit to something, and that they're Clever enough to find a way to succeed in their goals.

Wit is based on mind over matter, on finding creative ways past obstacles, on solving every puzzle and never giving up on their drive to know more. But if you let someone drive themself to borderline-obsession with their passion for knowledge, you need to know that they have Humility. Why Humility, you ask? Humility is considered the opposite of Pride, the quality of being grounded and humble. Humility serves an anchor for when you're too lost in the maze of puzzles, of learning about everything, of knowing more and more until the world around you starts to blur together into meaningless faces. In Amphibia (the show), Humility is mainly seen in the connections that people make with each other, the friends and family someone is willing to drop everything to protect— it's the Heart that makes them truly Human (or Amphibian)

So, I'm gonna cut myself off here before I continue on trying to endlessly justify my thoughts to an imaginary audience in increasingly irrational ways–

But! If anyone reading this— my dear non-imaginary audience that I am very grateful for— has any questions at all, even if it's just, "Bro what the hell are you on?" I'd love to hear it! Because I'd be happy to further explain anything if needed. I know there are a lot of times where I don't make much sense when rambling 😅

[daiourage]

In response to @idk-8d's post here! They are... so lazy because I wanted to get the idea out immediately lasjdkal my b 😭

Please press/click for the full picture and for quality!

(Context: Reave probably shot at Nasha or something. I'm only giving him a gun because that man is NOT doing physical combat. Also, I'm sorry I have no idea what Flux's weapon of choice is so my immediate go-to is choking (mostly because I don't really see her shooting anyone lmao))

(The close up of Knkn's eye is when she notices that the spirits aren't showing up--sorry this comic is incoherent ;w;)

Headcanon that Flux cries when angry 🥂

Bonus comic that is just an overdone troupe I wanted to draw. Please do not be afraid to ignore this concept if it doesn't fit well 👍 (i'm not sure if I even like it that much but i did want to draw it anyway!! so here it is 💕)

↓↓↓

Make him bi for the angst--//shot legitimately, I was debating whether or not to make him fully gay af or pan;;

Just something I thought'd be interesting!

Alrighty goodnight 🙏

[tapwater118]

pinned post jumpscare blauughh

pronouns.cc | strawpage

hiya i’m flower!

i'm plural i think. i (the host) also go by golf ball, GB, box, gaty, maddie, tap water, tap, captain coinpin (<- silly), etc. queer person on the internet with too many names, check

collectively tap/tap water, she/they, 22 y.o. (individual names/pronouns can be found in the pronouns.cc)

fictkin with a bunch of weird blorbos (if you couldn’t tell from the first part) and a-ok with doubles! friends from across the multiverse

i like various things and then will proceed to draw them. big fat bfdi/osc special interest mostly (i am a huge multishipper (based) btw so erm yeah)

feel free to use my art and such as pfps/banners/whatever, just give credit pls

other things to know about yours truly

if i like over explain something to you please do not take it as a slight against you, i am just autistic (as if it wasn’t obvious)

if ya wanna know more, feel free to shoot up the ask box, i love answering questions. if we’re not moots and i don’t initiate please don’t dm me!

(also don’t flirt with me. you don’t have a rat’s chance)

strawpage stuff and other incoherent ramblings are over at @taps-other-blog so look there!

also pleeease tag fireafy neg around me ty. im not even really attached to that ship its just neg about it can really put me in a bad mental state for some unknown and probably dumb reason

if you ship and/or support adult/minor, incest, zoo, etc get tf away from me ewwwwww nasty

also no label discourse if you partake in that i am blowing you up with my mind

things you’ll probably see me blabber about/draw at some point:

object shows (particularly bfdi, but i also fw inanimate insanity, hfjone, boto, animatic battle, tr125, orb, tnm, burner, object kerfuffle, love of the s*n, ppt2, itft, ee, and others im probably forgetting) (oh and idfb fear garden tee hee)

mario

kirby

pikmin

undertale/deltarune

pizza tower

fnf

homestuck

fnaf

petscop

horror stuff in general

regretevator

cookie run kingdom

to be expanded once i remember more stuff

(art may be suggestively crude in humor but never nsfw)

(also if you ask i can always add tags to stuff if you have something in particular you want to mute, i dont mind)

i am working on some cool projects i think you should check them out because they are cool:

Occasionally Coinpin: hosted over at @occasionallycoinpin. posting coinpin, occasionally (the main reason you don’t see coinpin content here all that often)

Book Askblog: hosted at @twotonedhardcover, where i pretend to be a gay little novel for shits and giggles

Battle for Hopes and Dreams: a bfdi x undertale au that puts the characters of bfdi in the world of undertale. tagged as “#battle for hopes and dreams”

Competition for Fantasy Retreat: a bfdi swap au that swaps characters’ compositions and parts of their personalities. tagged as “#competition for fantasy retreat”

BfDI 1990: an unfiction reimagining of bfdi as an NES game from 1990. tagged as “#BfDI1990” (unreality content warning for this). please note that this is NOT an ARG, there is no game or puzzle to be solved, it is simply unfiction

Tap’s BFDI D-Side: a bfdi d-side take, where characters’ designs and personalities are remixed for something new and refreshing! (based on fnf d-sides obviously) tagged as “#tap’s bfdi d side”

BFDI Redux: a hypothetical bfdi season 6, featuring many of the tpot rejects as well as underutilized veterans. tagged as “#bfdi redux”

OSC horror content: i like turning the silly blorbos into fucked up evil creatures. general tag is “#FLApasta” but each story has its own separate tag (general content warning for these)

other tags i’ll use frequently i think:

“#asks” all the crud that ends up in my inbox and also some very nice things. it is a mystery

"#tap art" for all my beautiful creations look at all of them NOW

“#yap fest” for general inane ramblings. i say some very stupid things

“#ultra yap fest” for long posts, including rants and character analyses

“#slop tier post” art and other things that are generally below a certain threshold of quality i hold for myself. i’m probably too harsh on myself but oh well

“#word salad yummy yummy” fanfic stuff and other writing things. im on ao3 and wattpad if ya didnt know

“#top tier post” “#all the day every day” “#one for the ages” posts that i really really like. usually from moots

“#literally me” fictkin id posts. you get it. no you don’t. i don't get it either

“#oiny” wife

list of Friends :D

@booktaggy

@bottle-ditzy

@depraced

@lemonxlimee

@l1ghtbulb

@novaazurite

@ohmysheetmetal

@onion-makes-stimboards

@sourscheming

@therandomcreechur

@twig-gy

[watchingblsnowandforever]

We Are Ep.11

Part 1

*sits with half a tub of ice cream with both AC and fan on because my AC is old and needs a little help and puts my cat on Do Not Disturb mode (aka scratching his belly)*

Hello!!!!

Welcome back to my crack posting! =D

Warning: long post, and since I have like 60 screenshots, there will be a part two 😊😅

I wrote that intro before I'd watched the ep. Me as I was watching the ep was mostly incoherent screaming (so much so that my cat woke up from his nap to give me "what the hell, hooman" look).

This episode was amazing, and I loved it, and I'll probably die of too much fluff, but that won't happen before I finish watching We Are (which- WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE ARE JUST 5 EPS LEFT?!!).

I was giggling and kicking my feet (just like Peem the morning after that Prince Charming kiss) from the very first scene.

Oh, they are so gone for each other (and I am gone for them 😭). The smiles, the trying to hear what the other is doing just across the door ah

So, so true. As a writer that hits.

Also, I'm very glad they decided to showcase creative blocks, even if it was for a few minutes.

Me to PhumPeem: yes, Peem, I would love to know too.

Also- I really wanna know what Ciize was doing back there 😭

Too cute to handle 😭

Jokes (and puns) aside, this scene is quite significant. Previously, whenever Phum was seen in the vicinity of the Fine Arts building, it was only because he wanted something from Peem (yes even that scene in ep. 8, he wanted company from Peem), but now, he's just sitting there waiting for Peem. And when Peem comes down, he's pinching his cheeks right there and acting cute with him and asking what's wrong.

And he keeps on asking, because he can see that Peem is a little moody, and not his usual self. "You're usually livelier than this."

Phum: "Actually, I want to be water too..."

Me: No way, is this what I think it is?

Phum: "I want to be the reason you feel good."

Me: yeah, yep, that's what I thought

No but, you can't tell me Phum doesn't binge watch BLs with his beloved teddy bear. Of course he has a whole arsenal of cheesy flirting lines.

All this time, it was always Phum telling Peem how comfortable he is around him and his friends, how fun it is.

Welp, it's Peem's turn.

I love Phum.

This is both him asking for consent as well as making sure they're on the same page and going at the same pace (which he always does, as I'd said before).

Also, no, he wants you to get closer.

HANDS.

Hear how polite and soft Q is with Toey now? Once Q knew for sure that he's allowed to show affection towards Toey as more than just a mentor/mentee, he decided to be fluffy as heck and never went back (because his love language is giving and showing through actions).

Love that for them both <3

This is such a valid fear.

He was afraid that his love would be too much, and in the process he'd lose the person he loves again, so he thought it better to just suffer alone than confess. Not gonna lie, my heart broke just a little here. (Also, because I'm currently rewatching MSP, I'll be pulling a lot of parallels, and this reminds me of that scene where Sound tells Gun that he's afraid to confess to Win because he's pretty sure he'll get rejected).

Oh, and I keep forgetting to say this, but Satang is such an amazing actor. Watching Sound and Toey, I almost can't believe they're played by the same person.

Phum's lethal weapon and Peem's fatal weakness 😭

Let's be honest though, no one would be able to resist that smile, those eyes and that soft, "Na, krab". Oh yeah, he used polite pronouns here by the way.

I can't always notice the shift from formal to informal or vice versa because I'm not that well-versed in the language (yet) but this was pretty obvious.

Bonus (Peem's reaction):

Tan: flirts with his theerak non-stop 24/7 Fang: *brushes his hair a little and apologizes for making him wait* Tan: *melts into a blushing mess*

That man is so whipped.

And in this house, we stan all whipped men.

This actually reminds me of when I was a wee baby (around 3 or 4 years old, I think) when I rescued a baby sparrow and took it to my dad and told my neigbours my dad would be able to heal it because he's a dcotor (he isn't a vet either) 😭

Also- naming a bird by another bird is so true to Pun's character.

This so relatable oh gods 😭

Also, we got the princess carry for Pride month! Twice if we count Chain lifting Pun in the waterfall, which I totally do.

We finally get being carried to bed but realizing they're laying on top of the blankets instead of just being magically wrapped in them by morning!

*sighs fondly* such a simp. <3

Uh huh, you said that last time too.

Don't lie, Peem, you'd let him hug you every night.

👀

Is this the reason behind the NC rating?

Also, this singular line just gave me a brain worm that is making me write my first smut fic. I blame y'all for getting me into this series.

Yes, of course, Phum, everyone believed your "snort mi mi mi".

Don't think I didn't see your little secret smile, Peem.

(Also, I have a headcanon that Phum just loves to be the little spoon)

Now who's hugging who, huh?

"Go away", he says, while putting his arm around his (not) boyfriend.

See, it was all fun till this point, but you can't be giving me this level of domestic fluff while at the same time telling me they're not even dating yet. That just doesn't work.

So, for me, from this point on, they're an old married couple <3

Frankly though, all the four couples in this series are old married couples that just don't know they're married yet.

Toey: HELP ME!!!

Q: WHAT HAPPENED WHO NEEDS BEATING UP-

Toey: I forgot to do my assignment and today's the deadline 🥺

Q: ... 😑

You don't...?

I thought that was the perfect time to start working on it?

jk jk, kids, I'm a chronic procrastinator, please don't learn from me, learn from your P'Q

(Q reminds me so much of @desi-yearning when she scolds me after I pull an all-nighter to submit an assignment or study for an exam 😭)

Oh. Oh.

Oh my.

I love this scene so much.

This pencil box is very very special to Q, and he's asking Toey to draw on it - something that is irriversible, as Toey himself says.

But this is Q's way of putting together both his loves. This pencil box was picked up by Toey the first time, but back then, Q only knew him as Milk Frappe Boy.

Now, he's asking Toey to do something Milk Frappe Boy would never have been able to (remember, Toey started taking an interest in art only after meeting Pencil Senior), because Pencil Senior disappeared on Milk Frappe Boy, but Q would never disappear on Toey.

On this note, I end Part 1.

Part 2 will be out tomorrow, because as much as I try to deny it, I have these pesky things called responsibilities to attend to, and it's very late here now (not past my regular bed time, but way past my ideal bed time 😭)

Thank you for reading! 😊

Here, have some pizza and a cookie🍕🍕🍪

[If you want, my previous posts: Ep. 8 Ep.9 Ep.10]

And here's Part 2

[alena-draws]

Little rambling under the cut- nothing negative, just written down thoughts about doing art to help formulate them for myself. (It's as confusing as it sounds)

The thing is, I can never really decide what I really (like, really) want to pursue in art. (Though, I have just come to the conclusion that me being online writing about art instead of doing it is probably one of the reasons! I'm too much online, gotta change that) But! What I want to say is...there's just so much I'm interested in? Every time I learn more about a think, I'm like "Fuck I want to learn how to do that, too". I bought myself the AMB animation online class (which I haven't fnished) when I was in my 4th semester of bachelor- animation is super cool, I loved how it helped me immensely with my anatomy and overall character drawing. It's also given me my first job opportunity at the end of college so that's good, too! Lately, I've bought and watched the Storyboarding class by Petra Popescu on Domestika- if you are interested in Storyboarding, it's a direct recommend!! I have always done comics and made a short trailer film as my final project, but I never really learned Storyboarding as well as it is described in this short course, and it is so fascinating (yes, I ALSO still need to finish those exercises though). But you see where this is getting...I'm not finished though haha. After I watched some videos from the Draftsmen and read through the book "Color and Light" by James Gurney I was so fascinated by oil paintings and color, that I tried out oil colors for myself (admittedly, I haven't done a lot). I love creating scenes, too, and I love the amazing backgrounds from Avatar The Last Airbender, and I'm thinking about doing some more background work (especially since I did have a job interview for a background art position- didn't get it, but they did seem to like my examples enough to ask me, so I'm happy about that). Oh and I'm also doing character designs for another project...Look, (I say mostly to myself and the poor souls still reading this) I don't want to brag with the amount of stuff here, because while I might be decent with some, I'm not a real expert on any of those. But I'm not sure if doing everything a bit and nothing really stone-focused is really the best way? On the other hand, I try to keep in mind on what to work best regarding what could get me jobs, even if that's not my main interest-now? Only that my focus keeps constantly shifting from one thing to another because everything sounds so enticing and then everything is only half-finished...hmm. One thing is for sure, less online time and more actually doing away from the computer to work that out. But, to end this overly confusing text of more or less incoherent thoughts as they come to me: I do like that I find so many aspects fascinating, because art is so cool and imagine you can drew pretty pictures and characters and even do a story! I feel like a very dumb bumblebee flying from one pretty flower to the next without ever really landing. Hm, that kinda works as a metaphor. But Yeah, this is also the reason why I created a friggin new portfolio for each new application. I wonder where this will eventually land me. I'm slowly starting as a childrens' book illustator now, which is sweet, too, but I know that that's not all I would like to do. Howevery, I'm still in a lucky and pretty privileged position to do any of this so I'm not complaining! Just wondering. Bumblebee out.

[is-the-fire-real]

Preface: I sent you a similar ask previously (and anonymously) but I've thought on it more and think I can explain myself better (or at least more, which might make things even less clear actually. Who knows). This is not meant in any way to rush you, it's purely to rephrase some things (and I have a slight distrust in Tumblr's actual functionality lol). This is probably gonna be a bit incoherent/rambly, so apologies in advance 😅

So, I have always been a Christian, and we've gone to a wide variety of churches over the years, mostly Baptist, Church of G-d, and Assembly of G-d. I. . . haven't felt very at-home at any of them. I have had a lot of struggles within my faith, particularly when it came to standard beliefs about hell, the impending rapture, and the significance of speaking in tongues.

Going down the line: I very quickly realized that believing anyone outside of your own faith would be tortured for eternity is SUCH a toxic recipe for forming relationships with anyone who thinks differently from you, and also it was being detrimental to my mental health. After trying my best to study on my own, I decided I didn't think there was enough of anything to indicate that anything worse awaits people than the finality of death, so I decided that's what I believed and moved on.

I grew up under a rather constant barrage of "The rapture is any day now," and mostly just went "Yeah, alright, I don't have plans for a job or college anyways." Anyway, I got thrown for a MASSIVE loop when I turned eighteen, and even now only feel like I'm just starting to develop an idea of what I want to do with my life. I have so many relatives that talk about the rapture like it's their only reason to keep going. I just try to tune them out.

I never was able to speak in tongues. I had a lot of pastors/youth ministers saying it was a crucial part of being saved. I spent a lot of nights crying, pleading, begging to be saved. I ultimately just had to hope that maybe they were wrong. (I also had a youth pastor say that the only thing that mattered to be saved was to convert someone else to Christianity. He straight-up said it didn't even matter if you prayed. I was six.)

And I mean, there's also the matter of the immense amounts of bigotry and hypocrisy. That's a big one too. It's why I have always been too ashamed to actually say I was a Christian.

A long time ago, I decided that *my* Christian faith boiled down to 1. Believing in G-d, 2. Believing that G-d loves us, 3. Believing He wants us to love other people in turn, and 4. Everything else is peripheral to that. I still stand by that as a statement of my faith. I haven't been to a church in a long time. I'm growing less sure that I'm actually a Christian.

I've recently started trying to learn more about what Judaism *really* is, and like. Maybe it's just the usual "wishing things were different." Maybe it's just admiring the beauty of a culture that I'm so unfamiliar with. Maybe it's just rose-tinted glasses, maybe it's just wishing I could engage in religion with other people without such inherent shame.

But I look at it with such a feeling of longing. I've watched a couple of livestreamed services from a conservative synagogue about and hour and a half away, and they were beautiful. The Rabbi had very good and meaningful sermons (if that's what it's called in a synagogue). Most of the rest of the service was in Hebrew, so I didn't understand much of it, but it seemed like such genuine worship and praise. I got to watch their Simchat Torah service, and it seemed like genuine worship. And I've felt like I've just been going through the motions for so long.

And I don't know. Probably the simplest solution is to find a church I can stand, I know there's a Methodist one not far from here. Maybe I need to go back to trying to read my bible. Maybe I just *still* haven't learned how to pray correctly, I sure as heck wouldn't know. (Tangentially, reading about berakhot was probably when I went from "trying to learn more about a different culture" to actually "questioning my faith")

I've questioned just about every facet of who I am this year, so I guess it was only a matter of time until my faith came up. But I've also just recently reassured everyone that yes, I'm still a Christian, I'm just working through some disillusionment. And I thought I was telling the truth! But the question has still persisted, in a "what if you always regret this" sort of way (granted, I have anxiety, it's not *that* uncommon).

But like, I just had a conversation with my mom where she said, "Sometimes it takes a good-old-fashioned fire-and-brimstone preacher to inspire change," and. . . ?!? I just. . . I can't agree with that?? I simply can't believe that the best way to inspire change in people is to threaten them with eternal damnation.

And so much of Christianity is handled this way! Any doubt or question whatsoever is immediately "of the devil," and so I grew up constantly policing my thoughts out of fear that G-d would be angry with me! Which has almost certainly had consequences in regards to my chronic anxiety! But the ONLY correct response to any doubts or questions is to double-down on what you've always believed.

Surely this isn't a healthy way to navigate life???

The biggest concern I've received in er, HYPOTHETICAL discussions of faith is "But what about your faith in Jesus?". And like, I *know* this is the wrong response, I know it's the wrong way of looking at it, but: What does it matter? Either Jesus *is* a part of G-d, in which case it stands to reason that the worship is being shared, or Jesus *isn't* part of G-d. I mean, I know that really, it's about showing G-d's love and mercy, but like? Hosea 14 very specifically demonstrates both of those traits? G-d has ALWAYS been loving and merciful. Don't get me wrong, I professed faith in Jesus before being baptized, I sing all of the worship hymns. But having specifically sought out the Jewish perspective, it makes a lot of sense??

I just don't know. I don't even know that there's even a proper question in here. I guess if anything the question is "am I willing to betray my faith," vs "is this actually even my faith as is"? Carrying all of these questions and doubts and views, can I still call myself a Christian? Is that still preferable to seeking out Judaism, thinking that my beliefs will align with it much better, even though I risk sabotaging my relationships with my family and friends? I want to have a meaningful relationship with G-d, and I want to live a good and fulfilling life, and I want to maintain good relationships with the people I care about. Can those things all coexist?

Anyways, I'm sorry this ended up being so long. I'm also immensely sorry for all of the persecution that you and the rest of the Jewish community have suffered. Thank you so much for reading all of this, I really appreciate it.

No worries, I got your back. You don't have to apologize for taking your time to explain yourself; that's how we can come to understand each other. I am sorry for how long it took me to reply to you.

I was raised a Mormon, and I actively deconverted in my twenties, long before I looked into converting to Judaism. A lot of your struggles here mirror my own. I am going to address your theological points/arguments from the general perspective of Christianity, and then talk about your interest in Judaism. I am not necessarily trying to dissuade you from Judaism, but I am going to talk a bit about how you were raised first.

It sounds like you were in a lot of Charismatic and Pentecostal denominations. This is something that's hard to get other people to understand, because what's normal for you--speaking in tongues for your early faith, baptisms for the dead in mine--is so far outside the realm of "normal" for everyone else. So, to focus on speaking in tongues: have you done any historical examinations of this practice? I have--Mormons used to do it! It turns out that what we call "speaking in tongues" is an extremely new practice which does not have roots in historical Christianity. While there were individuals and very small religious groups (usually considered cults) that practiced it, it didn't take off until the Great Awakenings in America in the 1800s.

I think you are also right about Hell and the Rapture. The thing is: these are also very new practices that were not a part of historical Christianity! The Rapture was invented around the same time as speaking in tongues, during the Great Awakenings.

As for Hell, though, that might be my more controversial claim, so let me go over it.

If you read the Christian Bible from cover to cover in order to discover Hell, you will not find it. There are places that talk about "weeping and gnashing of teeth". There are places that talk about Hades, a location in Greek paganism. There are places that talk about Sheol, which is "the grave" into which we are all shoveled one day. There are illustrative tales that seem to discuss an afterlife, but with no labeling and no great detail. There are places where there is talk of a great fire which will permanently burn away sinfulness--but no indication that this fire will burn forever.

But, I promise you this: if you read the Christian Bible and you don't know ahead of time to interpret specific verses as being about Hell, you will not find Hell in the Bible. Ever. It doesn't exist.

You also won't find Satan. You also-also won't find the Antichrist.

The reality is that Hell, Satan, and the Antichrist are Christian folklore. This folklore has built up over centuries (in the case of Hell and Satan) or decades (in the case of the Antichrist). We know it is folklore because popular culture feeds into and informs it. There was, for decades, a common stereotype that the Antichrist would have brown hair and would have a birthmark on his body of the number "666"--because that's what happened in the very fictional thriller/horror film "The Omen". Nowadays the Antichrist is blond, because that's what he was in the very fictional and very bad series "Left Behind". Stories like "Spawn" and "Constantine" and "Rosemary's Baby" and etc. all feed into and inform our perceptions of Hell/Satan/Antichrist, because you cannot find these concepts in the Bible as presented by preachers, pastors, and so-called "Bible experts".

What's even worse is that the Rapture, to pick one example, isn't something most of the teachers who preach about it believe in!

Think about it: do you think the average televangelist who preaches about the Rapture doesn't have a retirement plan? Do you think they don't have wills? That they haven't sent their own children to Bible college to prepare them for inheriting their control over the church? Heck, most of the preachers who spent the last few decades promising there won't be anymore decades have died of old age in their beds, surrounded by children who have been prepared for decades to go on preaching that there will be no more decades.

Now, I think this in and of itself gives the whole 'game' away. The highest-ranking folks preaching this stuff do not believe it. Their behavior, the only way that you can determine what a person truly believes, proves without a doubt that they don't believe it and never did. They've found a grift. A scam. An easy way to rook people into giving them money and treating them like small gods.

The ultimate purpose of the Devil, Antichrist, Rapture, anti-queer teachings, and so forth is to frighten and manipulate people with ambiguity. If you're right and they're wrong, then when you die, you're dead and the argument is over forever. But (and here's where the ambiguity knife slips in) oh but if they're right then the things that happen to you will be horrible. From their perspective, it's 'heads I win, tails you lose'.

This is the issue you faced with your mother talking about "a good-old-fashioned fire-and-brimstone preacher". Please consider, for instance, an extremely common, Biblical phrase Christians often use to describe the gospel. The Good News. Ask yourself, in all honesty, what "good news" would sound like to you. To me, it would be stuff like "You've won the lottery you never play", "Your dog missed you and wants to jump all over you", "You're going to be a father soon", "Your sick dad can travel again", "Your busted washing machine just fixed itself", "There's snow on the mountains and you saw a beautiful cloud in the sky on your walk". Those would all be good news to me. There's a lot of stuff, I'm sure, you can think of that would be good news to you.

Does anyone anywhere on Earth, even the fieriest and most brimstone-y of preachers, really, truly believe that "good news" includes sentiments like "You will burn in a lake of fire forevermore unless you pray a set of magic words and assent to the importance of saying the magic words as a prerequisite for escaping eternal fire"?

Doesn't sound good to me. Doesn't sound good to anybody. Nobody would hear that and think Oh boy, that sounds amazing! Sign me up! No one. Ever. That is, in fact, Bad News. It's astoundingly Bad News to hear that there is a Creator who, to borrow Lewis's imagery, creates life so he can vivisect it. It is Bad News to be asked to believe that a creature who creates beings in order to torture them forever is in control of the universe. That is the worst news we could possibly receive. It is worse than there being no G-d at all.

The only way you could sincerely believe it is to be a maltheist--a person who believes G-d is evil. You will note that people who do functionally believe this, by the way, tend to deny G-d's goodness--a significant theme in the Bible, even in the Christian version of the Bible--and emphatically focus on G-d's holiness, as though holiness is a trump card that cancels out goodness. "Sure, G-d is good, but He's also holy," they say, clutching their children to themselves tighter, knowing that G-d is holy and therefore not good (what's the opposite of "good"? Not "better"!) and that G-d will take their children and burn them forever unless they pray harder, and teach their kids to pray.

Better do it if you know what's good for you.

In other words, Hell and the Rapture and similar theological concepts are ideas created in the past couple of centuries by humans who wanted to create an eternal hostage situation. This is a very common theme throughout authoritarian Christianity. It is not, however, a requirement for Christianity. There are schools of Christian thought as well as individual Christians who reject Hell, etc., outright. Non-Nicene Christians can flat-out acknowledge that Hell doesn't exist in the Bible. Nicene Christians (those who believe in the Nicene Creed) can argue that when Jesus "descended to Hell", he destroyed it forever and liberated those within it. (That is what "the harrowing of Hell" means, theologically.)

You could, therefore, consider other modes of Christianity which maintain a belief in Jesus as G-d without necessarily converting to Judaism. This is, in some ways, going to be easier and more comfortable for you than converting. Judaism is not "Christianity minus the parts of Christianity which you personally find uncomfortable". Judaism doesn't exist to heal our psychic wounds from our theological upbringings. Again, I'm not telling you that you must remain a Christian. But it is something important to consider: is your issue with the folklore Christians add to Christianity, or is it with Christianity?

I suggest you look into concepts like "religious trauma" and "Rapture anxiety". Do not look up these concepts on places like Tumblr--go to scholarly articles. There are writers, Christians as well as atheists, psychiatrists and psychologists and experienced folks, who write eloquently on the subject. There are many, many resources out there and places where you can find support.

So, about whether or not you believe in Jesus: this is what most Christians would consider to be a dealbreaker question. At a certain point, boundaries are drawn and definitions are set, and to participate in a group, you have to fit within those boundaries and meet the definition. Belief in Jesus as a part of God (Trinitarianism) or as the Son of God (non-Trinitarianism) is vital to being a Christian. If you do not believe this, then you are a theist, but not a Christian.

Addressing this is the start of your internal wisdom. If you don't believe in Jesus, that's okay. The majority of humans on Earth right now do not believe in Jesus as G-d. The vast majority of humans who have ever lived did not believe in Jesus as G-d. You have been taught to view this fact as a heartbreaking tragedy. The beginning of your reprogramming, of you giving yourself permission to reject certain ideas, is perceiving this as a fact and not a tragedy.

Now, to your questions about converting to Judaism.

There are a lot of questions, not for me, but for you about whether or not converting is for you. You will have to answer those for yourself, but I'm going to try and guide you by providing you some of those questions.

Converting is a long process. The shortest conversions I'm aware of take many months. Mine is probably on the shorter side of average; it should take me a year and a half if everything stays on track for me. The classes won't just be showing up for a Zoom call or a physical class for an hour a week. You will have to read MANY books to get caught up on thousands of years of history. You will also be expected to do reports and turn in assignments and the like. The people who've dropped out of converting who started alongside me are folks in their 20s who did not have the free time to dedicate to another class. Do you have the time and the willingness to invest your time--perhaps free time you might have spent in fandom pursuits or on social media--into conversion classes?

Also, you should take classes from the philosophical group of Jews you plan on primarily attending with, because the odds are high that the Rabbi who teaches your classes will sponsor you. Do you know which philosophical group/denomination you want to convert to? If so, have you looked into what classes are available in your area for that specific group?

If you go Masorti/Conservative, you will be expected to read liturgical Hebrew when you go to the beit din. You probably won't have to speak modern Hebrew fluently, but it would help. Do you also have the time to learn an entirely new alphabet, or possibly, a whole new language?

How did you feel about recent and historical antisemitic violence? How do you feel about being potentially targeted by this sort of violence? I understand that this is very scary to contemplate, but it is absolutely a part of the process: understanding if your longing outweighs your fear.

The thing about Judaism being a closed/semi-closed practice is that, ultimately, conversion is not about you. It's a humbling experience. You are petitioning to be adopted by a family. A major Jewish religious principle is that all Jews are responsible for the behavior of other Jews. This is why prayers of repentance are usually phrased collectively--we have lied instead of I have lied. The Jewish community will want to know what you're bringing to the table. I will point out that the vast majority of Jews I've met have been extremely welcoming, because converting right now will show a level of seriousness on your part due to the risk… but still. Are you willing to accept that converting is about the Jewish community welcoming you, and not just about you wanting to join the Jewish community?

There are bigoted and hypocritical Jews. Just like every other community on Earth, Jews are not a monolith. I think that the most important lesson anyone can learn is that you'll always be alone if you want to avoid bigotry and hypocrisy, and even then, you might still not avoid them. Because there are so few Jews, it is actually more likely that you will be expected to argue with--but also worship and practice with--Jews who strongly disagree with you on a variety of subjects. Even if they aren't in your shul, they will definitely be out there in the world. There will also be Jews who think of you as a bigot and a hypocrite, and who will still embrace you as a Jew. The question is: is the problem you have with bigoted/hypocritical Christians that they are bigots/hypocrites, or is the problem that you are not socially permitted to push back against them? If the first, you should seriously reconsider joining any group. If the second, Judaism may be a better social fit for you.

Related to 6, there are going to be Jews who are bigoted or problematic in their politics who are grounded, thoughtful, and beautiful in their Judaism. Some of the most moving writing on Judaism I have encountered came from none other than Dennis Prager, who is generally a person I consider to be terrible politically. This is not hypocrisy on his part, IMO. It's that he's a person and people are complicated and contain multitudes. Prager can be horrific in his politics AND wonderful in his theology. Neither contradicts the other. Would this strike you as hypocritical? What would you do if confronted by it?

Generally, I would suggest that you talk to a Rabbi about your feelings. This is a meeting you should conduct face-to-face. Ideally, you should seek out a synagogue where you could see yourself attending. If there are no synagogues near you at all, then you can contact people via email or video calls. This is what I had to do because there are nearly no Jews in my entire province and none of them are Rabbis. I started out emailing English-speaking Rabbis in the UK, and they directed me to English-speaking Rabbis in Spain, who then directed me to the local community… who have since hired a Rabbi who lives outside the province but will guide our services. Rabbis are busy people, so that process of kicking around others' inboxes took a couple of months.

However you do it, you should tell the Rabbi about your religious history and about how you feel observing Jewish worship.

I think part of what struck me about your writing is that most non-Jews do not look at Jewish services with a sense of longing. I've heard a lot of goyim saying that such services are weird, that Jews pray funny and do silly rocking motions. I've heard goyim offer suppersessionist pity for Jews doing "hidebound rituals" when Jesus or the Prophet has "freed" them from such "unnecessary" or "wrong" practices. I've heard goyim express appropriative fascination, such as saying "Oh, this is how Jesus may have prayed" and then talking about how they plan on learning liturgical Hebrew so they can use it to pray to Jesus at their next Messianic seder. And I've heard atheist goyim dismiss everything out of hand as stupid Bronze-age superstition.

But longing? That's a different emotion entirely, and one I also understand.

I think watching those livestreams is a Good Thing, even if you choose not to convert to Judaism in the end. It's always great to expose yourself to open parts of other traditions and cultures! (I still kind of regret not being able to attend a Sikh service when I had the opportunity to do so.) And by the way, they are called sermons, but the other term for what Rabbis do during a service is called a drash.

I'll go through your more specific questions at the end, if that's okay:

The thing that makes one a Christian is believing that Jesus is the son of G-d and the Messiah. There's a LOT of variety on what those terms mean, but that's baseline. If you do believe in that in some way, shape, or form, you are a Christian. If you don't, you're not. You cannot be an atheist and be a Christian, for instance--and similarly, you cannot disbelieve in Jesus and also be a Christian. Whether you feel that way or not is up to you.

When you convert to Judaism, you will be rejected by friends and family. People will not only be actively angry at you for "rejecting" or "betraying" your original faith, they will suddenly turn massively antisemitic in ways you cannot imagine right now. The only way to avoid that is to not tell them you're converting, which is your right as an adult. You will also have friends and family who will surprise you with their kindness and support. Perhaps there are black sheep in your family who will reach out to you when they hear you're on the outs. I have a friend who's normally an edgelord who holds nothing sacred, who's become very empathetic and kind on the subject of Judaism in ways I never expected him to be. People will surprise you in both ways. The real question is this: do you want to remain in contact, as you grow old, with people who would reject you for questioning your religious beliefs and for being intellectually honest?

Yes, you can have that meaningful relationship with G-d and live a good/fulfilling life and maintain good relationships, but your definitions of what those things mean will differ.

That third one's important enough for me to explicate on a little longer.

Who "the people [you] care about" are will change. You will find new people, online and in your shul, who you care about intensely and want to maintain new relationships with. You will also lose people who you currently care about. Partly due to the aforementioned antisemitism, partly because you are at an age (forgive me for being a patronizing old dude for one second) where you're extremely likely to leave old friendships behind and create new ones. My own twenties were full of these changes. They included people who I swore would be my friends forever, my found family. The thing is that most of those changes were, in retrospect, for the best. Some of those "friends forever" folks were abusive and I only really appreciated that once they were gone. Some others were just not good fits for me. Others noticed me changing for the better and no longer wanted to be around me! And as I became a healthier person, those unfulfilling friendships were replaced, one by one, with better ones.

Which also ended, because moving and time passage still means you change and so do they, and that's okay.

I would try very hard not to worry about keeping people in your life forever. Some will leave for good. Some will leave and then come back later, having changed into better people. Some will stay and change to help you. Some will stay and try to drag you down into remaining the person they want you to be, and force you to leave. You will develop wisdom that will permit you to tell the difference. You'll mourn, you'll process, and you'll move on--telling your new friends in your Intro to Judaism class about how this person you could not live without rejected you, and commiserating when they all have similar stories.

What you mean by a good/fulfilling life is also going to change. Jewish ethics are, I'd argue, even more important than what folks would refer to as Jewish theology (and I'd also say they are inextricably inseparable, but that's my own opinion). My own Intro to Judaism class has spent more time on ethics than any other subject. That is because a great deal of the class is decolonization of thought. There's a loooooot of the Rabbi trying to unteach Christian thought and pointing us in the direction of Jewish thought.

Christian ethics, at this stage of Christianity, is largely negative (DON'T do certain things) and lacking in explanation (because the Bible says not to). Most importantly, though, Christian ethics are rooted in maintaining a hierarchy. Rather than empowering lay Christians to think for themselves, Christians are encouraged to think of what Jesus would do. If they don't have an answer to that, they are expected to ask their religious leader, who tells them what to do, and more importantly, what to believe.

Since belief is the defining aspect of what makes someone a Christian or not, that means belief (and therefore thought) must be policed and controlled whenever possible as part of Christian ethics. Hence, for instance, modern-day interpretations of the assertion that thinking of murder is the same as committing it leading preachers to announce that they would be cold-blooded murderers were it not for Jesus.

Judaism is more about empowering individual Jews to think for themselves and come to their own conclusions. This is why some Jews are atheists and some are not; there is no Rabbi with the power to force anyone to believe in G-d. This also includes ethics. Jewish ethics are more positive (DO do this), and have multiple explanations for why each thing must be done in a particular way. You can also dismiss those explanations and develop your own.

Yes, this is in direct contradiction to the supersessionist meme that Jews are trapped in a bunch of Laws that control every aspect of their lives, and if only they had Jesus/Islam to free them, they wouldn't be trapped in the Law. Remember the whole "decolonization of thought" thing? That's what I mean.

So! Not to be That Guy, but what you consider to be "good" in terms of "a good life" might end up changing. And so will what you consider to be "good" when it comes to "good people". If we're being honest, your definition of "good people" has probably already changed. You have probably seen people who you thought of as "good" reveal that they are rabid antisemites over the course of the past year and a half. You have probably seen people who you thought of as "good" remain silent over the gruesome murder of children because those children were Jewish. These changes are going to feel intimidating, but they are necessary--not for you to become Jewish, because you might not, but because you're coming into your identity as an adult person. And it's possible that even if you don't convert, you'll want to be the kind of person who believes that good people cannot also be antisemites, and you cannot have those people in your life.

Whatever you end up deciding, don't rush anything. I strongly encourage you to talk to a rabbi, not about starting the conversion process, but about your feelings and why you might consider converting. Get comfortable with this liminal space, if you haven't already (seeing as it took me way, way too long to finish this response and I'm so sorry about that). If you do decide to convert, you will be in this liminal not-Jewish-and-yet-no-longer-really-goy for a long, long time.

[phantombegruvia]

Hello there! I have a lot of thoughts, some of them incoherent

Okay first of all my current guess mostly based on elimination is Helter, even though I don't really want it to be him. This is based on who could have killed Juliet, Poppy and Tarquin and so far I think only Helter could've unless I've missed something.

One question, this might be silly but at this point I'm just considering all possibilities, the murderer was chosen by the wheel. Are they still on the wheel as you choose who's going to be murdered next (I'm wondering if it's possible for the murderer to actually at some point appear to be killed as in a certain Agatha Christie mystery)

okay, it's pretty obvious that Wayne and Alfred were killed by someone time traveling which means Andre would have to be involved. This is because Wayne is killed immediately after the invites are handed to Alfred, so unless the murderer already knew (for some reason) about the event, they must have traveled back after receiving the invitation. Also does this mean they waited for Alfred to post the invitations before killing him or did they post the invitations themselves after killing Alfred? The chandelier screw was probably removed at the same time (also, Helter hasn't mentioned the screw to the others yet (I think) which makes him all the more suspicious)

The time travelers here would be John, Juliet and Rumpled BUT Helter believes time travel is possible. Hmm. Also, if the notes app was last edited 2 days prior to the first murder that means that the murderer arrived two days in advance? Was Wayne planning a murder mystery as the event but hadn't planned and actual murder (this because of the computer password and all and the chair with the number because why on earth would it be there otherwise)

Also we don't know what the event was and why this group of people. Also Alfred obviously knew a lot, he was waiting for the invitations to be ready.

I don't think magic is involved, Rumpled, OLM and Esmeralda's powers appear to be blocked. Ethel's aren't mentioned but she's short of half counted as magical so maybe she can't do as much with her magic.

I think the death at the time of the lights going off is a blind as far as Poppy (maybe Tarquin as well) is concerned, because there was enough time to do the deed without having to rely on the lights unlike in Juliet's case for instance.

Poppy has plaid in her hand but I feel that's mostly a red herring (literally, red)

Who triggered the shutters in the beginning? Was that timed by Wayne or the murderer? Also how are the lights triggered as well. It can't be magic as their powers are blocked OR one of them is lying.

I have filled three pages of my notebook and I don't feel any wiser. Also I'm worried about the next update.

Helllooooo! :D

That's actually quite interesting, not many people suspect Helter - though, his name has come up once or twice if I remember correctly

I have kept the murderer on the wheel, however if the wheel spins them for a death, I respin (it would be quite mean of me if I didn't). The murderer is still on the wheel because I don't just spin it for deaths, I use it quite a lot :)

André is involved more than people think ;)

(also, Helter hasn't had the time to tell the others about the screw! The group will discuss the clues they found in tonights part :) )

Poppy's piece of plaid fabric was meant to be Mario's bandanna (who gave it her as a means of comfort, she was nervous to go)

Don't worry - everything will be revealed in time. :)

[velvet-games]

I finally finished the piece for @prince-liest's OC, Tzafael! this really reminded me of how fun character design is (and also that I've completely forgotten how to make digital art, but that's besides the point...) <3

credit to @hogbogglerspirits for the umbrella design! I kind of butchered it so please look at the original and throw lots of love at them

LOTS of notes, draft sketches, brainstorming, etc. below the cut. enjoy!

(note: a lot of what I'm talking about is based on posts prince made under their #tzafael tag, so take a look at those if you haven't yet!)

thanks for joining me below the cut! here's the sketch without the colors as a treat (in case you want to color it yourself or something, idk).

notes about making the digital drawing:

holy shit this took me forever -- I was not kidding about forgetting how to make digital art lmao. I forgot how much less forgiving digital lines are and genuinely lost the spoons to even attempt lineart, hence just a sketch below the colors.

some of you might've seen the original sketch I sent to prince, which the digital version diverges from just a little. it's mostly the halo which I'll explain later, and I finally caved and drew the sixth eye (you can tell I drew and erased it multiple times in the sketch lmao -- still don't know if I prefer it with or without)

here's the original color ref by the lovely @gendermeh! my color scheme ended up looking really different, so some notes about that:

I was looking at references for magpies like this

and I wanted to basically follow that color scheme while also being somewhat similar to the original -- dark head/shoulders --> dark top of the jacket, bright blue wings --> bright blue bottom of the jacket, greenish tailfeathers --> green pants, hints of purple --> purplish sleeve and pant ends

I also tried (and mostly failed, let's be real) to capture the iridescence of the feathers -- they look like oil spilled on the pavement or iridescent hematite to me! I think the key ended up being adding bright greens/purples and roughly blending them into the blues or vice versa but I didn't really figure that out until I got to the pants lol.

I'm gonna be honest; I don't remember why I went with this shape for the tailcoat. I just remember being unhappy with the sketch and then trying a bunch of different shapes that mostly looked worse lol -- I think I landed on this because a split tail kind of looks like wings?

KEPT the shoes -- absolutely magnifique. I wish I knew how to color gold better.

added lots of jewelry! they like shiny things :)

ALSO PLEASE LOOK AND APPLAUD ME. I FINALLY REMEMBERED TO LABEL MY LAYERS!! NO I DON'T REMEMBER WHY THE HALO HAS ITS OWN LAYER.

alright, time for some more design notes/explanations + draft sketches!

but first, a couple disclaimers:

I want to make it very clear that I LOVE everything about the original design. I made a lot of changes based on personal preference/the way I interpreted the character. I was actually planning on making a digital piece that was more faithful to the original design too, but I was just out of spoons for it cause of life stuff.

you probably shouldn't try to read the notes I made in the sketches I'm about to show you unless I say otherwise. most of it is incoherent brain vomit in illegible artist handwriting and I'll transcribe/explain the stuff I think is important :) (the stuff in quotes are direct transcriptions of my notes)

I know my sketches are very messy lol. I only draw for fun, so I usually don't force myself to make stuff any neater than necessary unless it's supposed to be a formal piece. try to bear with me.

1:

my first few sketches of them! (I think?) this was before I sent prince a laundry list of questions so I was still trying to get a vibe

"magpie -- beak lips?" -- you'll see this in a few sketches; I considered giving them the lipstick design that velvette has since it looks like a beak. I still kind of think it's cute, but 1) I'm pretty sure velvette is the only character that has them, so I didn't want to make it seem like they were related somehow and 2) I thought it might be distracting with how much other crazy stuff I ended up including in their head/face

also, sidenote since it's relevant to what I said about vel: something I realized was important is how one character's design relates to the designs of the rest of the cast. I wasn't sure how much I should've gone for what looked good in a vacuum, how much should be based on what other characters looked like canonically, or what other characters would look like if I also designed them. it ended up being mostly the second option, but it was honestly still a struggle. should I take away some of the tumblr-sexyman-ness (no shade to tumblr sexymen; I love them) because there are other characters that already have it? should I relate their design to sera's and emily's in the show or should I think about how I would've designed sera and emily? should I follow some of the design philosophy of the original show and just throw stuff on there because it looks cool (the answer is yes btw)? decisions, decisions ...

I don't think this showed up really well in most of the drawings, but they actually have a black line down their nose! let's take a look at sera:

since they're siblings, I wanted to include some similar facial markings. the nose line ended up being the only thing I kept though -- I was going to include freckles, but I have a compulsive need to give every character giant bottom lashes so there ended up being no room T.T I like that the magpie's hints of purple kind of match hers tho!

the wingification of the hair begins! I was still unsure of it at this point, but it was an idea I had since I was kind of struggling with how straight the feathers were in the original.

"maybe the ones on their head count as wings (so only one main pair)" -- I originally just had the 2 pairs of wings on their head, so I was thinking of just giving them 1 pair on their back so there would be still be 6 total. also this middle drawing of them is meant to be their exorcist outfit (I wanted it to be a cross between what the other exorcists wear and sera's outfit)

at this stage, I was thinking of giving them more magpie-like characteristics, so I looked at some references and tried to emulate them in a more human design. this ended up being really awkward so I scrapped it, but I still like the idea that their exorcist mask looks like a bird (kind of like a plague doctor's)

2:

peekaboo! I love the idea of them using the wing hair to cover their eyes lol. (ended up using that idea for my own seraph OC since that's their biblically accurate purpose: to cover their eyes/faces in reverence/humility -- doesn't really fit with tzafael tho lol, so they show their face most of the time)

an eyeball in the bowtie -- pretty self-explanatory. the eyeball motif is important.

the one in the middle is just me practicing drawing the original design, and the one on the right is another exorcist outfit I think. I wanted to include the diamond motif/points that sera has on her dress (the diamonds on the bottom turn into eyeballs, which is why the final design also has eyeballs on tzafael's sleeves/pants)

3:

lots of notes on the side based on what prince said in response to my ask

"localized omniscience (power of sight) -- cool + ironic that their sight was supposed to serve God but made them see Heaven for what it really is instead"

another exorcist outfit, this time including the feathers

I was also experimenting with the halo; I was trying to make it look sort of like sera's crown, but that didn't feel right ...

some practice with eyes -- my style is pretty flexible with eye shapes, so I try to make them suit the character. I drew lute's eye and also an actual magpie's as references -- lute's because of the exorcist background and also because they looked appropriately sharp, magpie's for obvious reasons. once again, my compulsive need for giant bottom lashes strikes

there was honestly a lot to balance with the eyes -- I wanted them to look condescending/bored (lowered top lid) but also amused (raised bottom lid) and like a magpie (round) but also harsh/mischievous (sharp, maybe slit pupils like a snake) and similar to sera's (but not too decorated -- also does it make sense for them to look like sera's if emily's don't even look like sera's?)

considered having wings on the shoulders -- the magpie pattern is super cool, so it would've been nice to have that somewhere more explicitly in the design. I still think that might fit in an outfit they would wear in heaven (maybe for formal occasions)

the introduction of the sweatervest! honestly I kind of love this for the way it captures more of the preppy, spoiled old-money upper-class vibe some heaven residents have, but it was scrapped since I couldn't imagine them wearing that while trying to scare the denizens of hell. maybe something they wear casually though.

"yes nictating membrane (on every eye!)" -- AHH I'm so sad I didn't end up putting this to use. I just feel like the whole effect is based on actually seeing them blink, and I don't animate lol.

4:

ugh, the nefarious laughter one ... don't worry I tried harder on a sketch later on lol.

"like the diamonds on Sera + Em" + "diamonds turn into eyes?" -- I draw the diamonds on the sweatervest turning into eyes later.

tried an actual bow instead of a bowtie -- very cute but didn't fit the vibe.

a skirt! I think they would wear a skirt sometimes.

5:

"FUCK ASS BOB" -- asghdk the wingification of the hair continues. unfortunately, I'm realizing at this point that the silhouette of the hair is starting to look a lot like alastor's. I gave a very half-hearted attempt at mitigating this, but it goes back to the thing of how much I am obligated to the original show's designs and what looks cool to me -- I think the wing hair fits them and I didn't want to change it because of alastor, plus my alastor design actually has completely different hair anyway. I did add a third pair to the back to look like a ponytail though.

introduction of the scarf! I was actually going to include this in the final design but uh,,, I forgor. are you starting to see a pattern.

the reason for the scarf is that the "tzafael going to places they know they'll draw attention/can incite chaos" reminded me of that scene in avengers where loki walks into a fancy building looking pretentious af and just casually stabs a guy's eye out. not really the same thing but I felt like the vibe matched. hence, loki's funny little scarf fit.

6:

uaoughdfjh it was SO FUN to draw the wing hair, and it was at this point that I realized they had to stay even though I wasn't sure if it was too different from the original.

gossiping with rosie cause that's the first person I thought of -- tzafael also summoned a pearl necklace to clutch because of the sheer drama of it all (your ex-husband did what??)

also started drawing the rings on their hands. magpie like shiny.

7:

lots of notes cause I was trying to compile the things I still needed to think about/incorporate into the final (I thought this was gonna be the last draft ... haha)

trying to include more bird/eye motifs

"fish ... purse?" -- ha! I forgot I was gonna give them a fish purse. I think I drew that in a later sketch, but not them wearing it.

"picked up Hellish traits bc of extended stay -- existential crisis?" -- I asked prince about the sharp teeth, and their answer implied that they became sharp as they stayed in hell longer, which got me thinking ... I feel like that's actually a great body horror concept. lucifer falling and looking like a normal angel at first, eventually waking up to more and more devilish features and feeling more and more like he's lost his home and his past self ... spooky.

another exorcist outfit -- I actually really like the eyes on the ribs! I never made a final draft for the exorcist uniform, but it would probably look close to what I drew here.

the one on the bottom was meant to be similar to the feathered shoulder pad idea, but this time with the whole magpie (with giant eyes). tried putting the "freckles" (really just dots in this case) over their brows, but that ended up looking kinda weird.

the eye is pretty close to the final design

the one on the right was supposed to be the full final design, but I was totally off lol -- the long trench coat really doesn't give off the right vibe at all

8:

playing around more with the loki vibes of the scarf, also added an eyeball to the chest

I never got happy with the design of the back of the coat -- I think it should probably just be blank at this point. but the sketch here is meant to look like wings/tailfeathers.

yet another exorcist outfit, this time with more magpie motifs. I actually like this one a lot, but I probably should've added the eyes on the ribs from the last sketch. I think I also considered giving them actual tailfeathers at this point.

9:

thanks for sticking with me! I promise we're almost done. have a trans dinosaur I saw while I was travelling as a treat <3

10:

this is after I finished the sketch for the final piece and realized I didn't like the halo design. I drew lute's, sera's, em's, and adam's as refs. (honestly I love the show's idea that each person/people of each rank have a different kind of halo -- I wonder if they can switch them out?)

my main inspiration ended up being the exorcist halo, but I made it look more like an eyeball -- since it always points toward heaven, we can say it's always "looking" at heaven.

(also sera's feather lashes! they're so cute)

11:

EVEN MORE EXORCIST DOODLES

12:

tzafael shooing away my fox demon OC

13:

these are actually sketches for my own seraph OC (raguel), but I wanted to include it since it has even more wing/feather hair variations. I also think the idea of the eyelashes being feather-like could've been cool for tzafael.

14:

some more OG design doodles

tzafael and raguel together because self-indulgence is the name of the game babey (also wanted to draw tzafael freaked out with their wings flared)

(raguel's blind btw, hence asking for eyes -- tzafael has so many!)

you can probably read the dialogue here so give it a shot. I believe in you.

15:

you know what? the fish purse deserves some doodles

16:

putting them in Situations! I was reading over prince's posts again and I realized there were some funny things I could draw them doing/saying

again you can probably read the words here

angel dust also loves fish (but is apparently bad at taking care of them, hence the suffocating blobfish), so tzafael shows him their aquarium (complete with live fish and flora ofc)

I thought alastor was 8 ft but apparently he's 7.3 ft? so tzafael is enjoying the .2 ft they have on him

trying and failing again to come up with a design for the back of the jacket lol

THE crowley quote

apparently the halo still sends signals from the exorcists -- thought their reaction to the battle at the hotel would be funny

the nefarious laughter (take 2) that I promised -- based on a doodle of alastor viv did that I found

them being sad and curling up in a pile of shiny things like a dragon

OKAY I'M DONE. huge, huge thank you to prince for sharing their OC! this was a lot of fun and clearly inspired me a lot haha. please check out their writing; it's literally so good that I can't read anything else these days. I am chewing on their thoughts constantly.

this was an absolute monster of a post, so if you're still reading, I am both impressed and bewildered at your patience. I hope you enjoyed! (I certainly did!)

[bleachbleachbleach]

5/5 - 5/31/2025

May played out exactly as I thought it would, though clearly the prospect of putting in my 10 minutes a day was too overwhelming to actually follow through on. I will say, I powered through April/May like a fuckin' CHAMP, but this week has felt pretty horrendous, mentally. Like, this week was technically chill, but I feel like a circuit board someone dumped a bunch of water on: Everything is overstimulating! Every task is too hard. What's with all the stress nightmares? I am so exhausted. etc. It's also been one of those weeks where I'm caught in these bananas thought patterns even as I know the "logic" is completely bananas, kind of like when you're dreaming but conscious enough to think mid-dream "oh, this is ridiculous" but it doesn't stop the dream or the psychic damage. And reality feels that much more tenuous because of the whole "like you're in a dream" thing, which isn't helpful, either. But I do now own a toaster that can toast both sides of the bread at the same time, so there's that.

Anyway, that's all to say that this is probably a dumb time to be working on The Hardest Chapter, but here we are. There are chapters that are more complicated in both form and content, but Hitsugaya isn't narrating any of those! So I was asking myself why I feel like Hitsugaya is a hard character to write, and:

1. Unfortunately(?),I have exactingly specific personal standards for how I want him to present on the page, because blorbo. Blorbo tax!!!

2. At the same time, I feel like for characters you think about a lot, all of their thoughts/reactions/behaviors become less fixed and increasingly situational, like you've been turning them in your mind so long you're willing to see every facet instead of just the most salient ones. Which is cool in terms of the opportunity to play with the weirdo, lesser ones, and like, character depth or whatever, but can also feel incoherent, and also like fuck it, given a specific scenario or series of scenarios, literally any thought or action could probably be made workable! But that needs to be balanced by the fact that 99% of scenarios or series of scenarios aren't on these pages, and the characterization that is going to make sense here, specifically, is delimited in that way. Which is obvious, but requires that whole walkabout in ways that are mostly circumvented when writing other characters where it's like, "every thought I've ever had about this character is actively happening right now at this very moment, as I type this." <- ideal

3. I think Hitsugaya, as a character, is disinclined to narrate--that is, disinclined to narrate a whole host of things that, if a fanfic is going to fanfic, need to be narrated.

On this last point, I think that's partly a POV/voice consideration, like "how to make this feel in-character" but in my mind maybe also a stylistic one. Like, maybe no amount of in-character will actually thread the needle on what I, writer, and what Hitsugaya, character, are willing to sign off on. I'm kind of toying with the idea of rewriting the chapter in a completely different style than its current form (and from the rest of the fic...). Which might be a terrible idea, but I guess that's Next Week Me's discovery to make!