#if you read all of this first of all im so sorry and thank you too lol :)

[the-fandom-phantom]

WAIT AHHH IM FREAKING OUT @tamaytsuki you’re actually the coolest ilysm

okay quick before i have a stroke from happiness

@nivea-ah @klancer-warrior @ronihilator @robylovi @still--kicking @reading-stains

y’all are the coolest and ur stuff makes my day (im so sorry for how long it took me to follow some people back im horrible at keeping up with that kind of stuff) ❤️❤️

and then also just for fun because i follow an embarrassingly low number of people, here are some blogs that i’m not mutuals with (yet 😉) that always make my fucking day y’all are awesome and i’d be honored to be moots with you someday ❤️

@heavilycaffeinatedsblog @catsushinyakajima @existwound @t0fuuteri @liiizzard @klance-daydreams @frogmanthethird

thank all of you for being so welcoming and making my first tumblr experience so amazing 😍😍

positivity train!

if you see this or are tagged in it, tag a couple of your favorite mutuals/blogs and let them know you appreciate seeing them on your dash!

@h0neysugarfree @blueberrylovv @bequiteanddriveeeeeee @cherri-bomb-bomb @eg0mechan1c @fatrexicisback

[afrodisiiac]

Pyramids…

cw:stripping, smoking, drinking, sub/dom, foreplay, PinV, creampie/unprotected sex (WRAP IT UP), original character, black woman, third person, omniscient pov, fast burn, au!geto, switch/soft!dom!geto, switch!black woman, oral sex (m! & f! receiving)… i know im missing a lot… sorry i suck at warnings! enjoy! (lowercase intended), mdni.

synopsis: one lucky day, suguru and his work crew goes to the popular strip club “pyramids” after a long day of work to unwind. little does he know, him walking into that strip club was the best thing that has ever happened to him—it’s where he found her… but will he be able to keep her?

ꨄ .. dorsí's notes: heyyy babies, WE BACK AGAIN WITH ANOTHER FUCKING BANGER!!! every time i listen to music, i play a movie in my head so here you guys go! i hope you all enjoy this half as much as i did writing it. oh also MAKE SURE TO READ THIS BECAUSE THIS IS THE ONLY TIME I’M PUTTING CONTENT WARNINGS FOR THIS SERIES. THIS SERIES IS NSFW AND WILL HAVE HELLA SMUT. PLEASE DON’T INTERACT IF THATS NOT YOUR CUP OF TEA. THANK YOU, LUV U!<3

ꨄ series playlist:

ꨄ apple: https://music.apple.com/us/playlist/pyramids/pl.u-11zBBgbS8yakXJj

ꨄ spotify: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ZNbx9LJMCifXZks5ODChO?si=btBx40v5Q9CRnn_zbgy4iA&pi=u-AKmjjoz-RzSY

chapter 1: cleopatra.

suguru geto was a hardworking, single man with a job in corporate office as the chief executive living a normal life. he occasionally went outside with his coworkers to have a couple drinks but that was all… until one night, his bestfriend/coworker satoru gojo invited him to the popular strip club “pyramids” after work. at first, he hesitated to accept the invitation but soon conceded… happy he did so because that’s where he found her; his cleopatra.

chapter 2: coming soon…

chapter 3: coming soon…

chapter 4: coming soon…

chapter 5: coming soon…

chapter 6: coming soon…

chapter 7: coming soon…

chapter 8: coming soon…

chapter 9: coming soon…

chapter 10: coming soon…

[girl-lostconnection]

YOU ARE MAGIC LOVE NEVER FORGET THAT 🥹🥹🥹 WTFFF that was actually so soft and I’m crying salty tears heeeelpp!! that was amazing !! gonna make a little something in return for you 😚:

i used second person — might be strange?

he comes back from his first deployment — where he was unluckily shot in the thigh — and by some miracle, he manages enough strength to wobble off that bus as you stand on the sidewalk. he’s got crutches and for some reason no one’s helping him with his duffel bag and that sight alone is soul-crushing. you rush to him, angry and confused, grabbing his bag and forcing him to sit on the curb.

“simon riley! what the hell happened to you?” he has never seen you this angry, but the way you’ve got your hands on your hips is causing some tightness in his jeans. he wishes you were this type of spitfire back then.

“got shot, luv, won’t ‘appen again,” he chuckles roughly, as if you’d just asked him the weather.

“simon edward (i hc this as his middle name cause it’s so funny sorry) riley. you’ve just told me you’ve been shot and im not meant to worry six ways to sunday?!” you’re appalled, aghast even. “i let you go off for six months, maybe! and you’ve gotten yourself into a mess. bloody christ!” you speak as if you’re allowing him to breathe, and as if everything he does, he does in your name — and god, why does he love it? “nonsense.” and the whole way home — because you are his home, no matter the place — you’re grumbling about how he’s going to cripple himself before he’s 35 and he’s just snickering.

because regardless of his injuries, and his countless therapy (physical or otherwise) appointments that you’ll drive him to, you will always be proud to call him your soldier.

and your third book begins with:

“to my soldier. stay home and read more books, please. you can’t leave me here.”

Anon, I’m gonna cry that’s so cute. Thank you so much for writing this!!

Also it’s all right, I got your second message, I’m gonna tag this one as one of your asks.

But also…anon, I’m giving you a big smooch on your bright beautiful head — this is beyond sweet🥹 Your writing is great and it makes me feel so warm and soft, I can’tttttt

And I love how your Reader just keeps popping out books (our productive queen) and giving hell to this big man when he doesn’t take proper care of himself because how dare he get shot (I know right???).

The way Simon is like “won’t be happening again” CAN YOU GUARANTEE THAT BIG MAN, I love that part, you cooked there some very good very canonical Simon Riley

And no one helping Simon with his duffel bag? Anon, stopppp, the way Reader would snatch the thing off his shoulder — he’d be unsure whether or not it was there in the first place at all. And I love that that’s exactly the vibes I was going for in their timeskip because he’s simply home whenever he’s with Reader.

They are his home. He comes back to them and suddenly everything is lighter and better and he smiles more and he’s happier version of himself (my baby🥹)

[liminal-therianthropy]

!!Small rant, about 'fake therians'!!

I know i dont usually post things like this but i just wanted this out of my brain so i can move on if that makes sense? This will be a long read so sorry in advance. So i keep seeing on tiktok, roblox, and now youtube of fake claiming therians and im honestly tired of it? Like really tired of it. All the points {in my opinion} are really dumb too. Point one was that 'Oh you have a common theriotype you clearly choose that and yer fake11!!!1!'. Which.,,.so? So what if some creature 'has a common theriotype'. Who cares? I certainly dont and most creatures ive met and seen do not care. It is such a minute thing to care about. Now do i find it interesting? Yes but in a /pos way! That there are 'common theriotypes' in the first place! But i find it ridicules to be made that someone else is a wolf or cat therian must be fake in someway. Like calm down it is not that serious. Point two is 'oh you have multiple theriotypes? Yer clearly fake especially if they have nothing to do with eachother!11!1!!'. Creatures can have multiple theriotypes and still be valid. Period. Point blank. And so what if they have nothing to do with each other??? That feels so random to me. So what if a creature is both so a lion therian and a deer therian. THAT IS STILL VAILD!! Someone's experience is just different then yours and THATS OK!!! Nothing is cookie cutter. We even have a term for this, its called a polytherian. A therian who has multiple theriotypes. So i dont know why that is being demonized now but here we are i guess. Point three 'oh yer popular you must be faking it!!!'. Which.,,.what? What kind of an excuse is that? Just say you dont like them! Its not that hard you do not need to fake claim a fellow creature just because they are popular. To me its like 'good for them for getting popular.' and i move on? I dont see why its such an issue. Now i can understand if said creator did something very bad and something that is unforgivable. Then yes hate them and deplatform them. Get them off the internet. But really guys? Oh yer popular? Must be fake! /sac, really gets on my nerves. Point four is a big one to me. 'Oh you dont know the definition of something? FAKE! YOU DONT KNOW WHAT YER TALKING ABOUT SO YER CLEARLY A FAKE!!111!1!!!'. Which. Guys. My fellow creatures. What ever happen to education? Like educating yer fellow creature? Education is one of the most important things in todays climate and i find it imperative that we just inform politely and move on. Ive had to, and always its just they didnt know and that they learned something. They most likely do not honestly know and thats ok. Some just simply dont know. Educate and move on. Simple. Or if they are somehow intentionally spreading hate or misinformation, educate and block or straight up block. Thats just on the top of my head, i bet there are more bs points that i just dont know or have the energy for. Thank you if you read this far, sorry again for posting this. Just needed this out of my brain ^^;

[deepseasmetro]

hi! i’m intersex —sorry abt being on anon btw, i would’ve dm’d if i could’ve since i cant do this publicly (im not out about my intersexuality)— and i wanted to talk to you abt that post you made.

your post i think has very good um bones, but i take issue with you seemingly outright grouping intersex activism with trans activism in a way that sort of takes away our agency in the issue? it sounded less like “under the fight for bodily autonomy we’re all comrades” and more like “intersexuals are essentially just transgenders and therefore intersex activism is redundant” . im intersex and transgender (sort of, im sure you understand how it all gets complicated) and ive personally always seen them as… different in totality.

intersex activism is, if anything, “filed under” disability advocacy to me. and i understand this varies from intersex to intersex, but like. most cis intersex people aren’t facing transphobia (exceptions excepted etc). they’re facing intersexism. the fight is, again, similar, b/c it’s all about bodily autonomy. when im fighting for transgender rights and intersex rights, im doing it as a fight for bodily autonomy.

i see where you were coming from, and i mean that genuinely, i just think calling intersex activism that doesnt idk, share the stage (??) with transgender activism “fake as fuck and garbage” seems… a little intersexist. of course it’s a separate issue with separate literature and theory and history, not every intersex is transgender and not every transgender is intersex. it strikes me as saying that any activism that like, centers mentally disabled individuals rather than all disabled individuals is redundant, you know?

thank you for reading 💙

to be honest im not gonna respond to most of this bc i think youre projecting some things onto me i did not say, but i would like to posit that considering intersexism disability advocacy first and foremost is really intriguing to me. why do you think intersexism is better classified as such? what societal forces may exist that would lead somebody to conceptualize a difference in Sex to be akin to disability? im aware that intersex conditions can lead to a variety of health problems mind you but is *that* the Main Problem of intersexism...? or is it the various ways the medical community abuses intersex children (and adults but less so) to make them Conform to a binary sex?

anyways. i didnt say that lol. i said intersex activism that treats intersexism as a wholly unrelated subject to transphobia and transmisogyny is useless. i think trans intersex people should be leading all conversations on intersexism, frankly! and ideally more transfeminine/TMA intersex people!

idk. i think youre kind of liberal, tbh, if you think transphobia and intersexism are about "bodily autonomy" at their core and not the abolition of sex assignment. but whatevs. ofc intersex followers and mutuals im happy to hear ur input but im much less inclined to listen to a random anon sorry. but youre very mistaken if you think im Remotely saying intersex people should have no voice lmao cmon

[bbearthyy]

B!TCH IM A MOTHER

Yah i’m back with another TWD blurb. this has plot at least. sorta. anyways no TW cause i don’t think it’s necessary but if anyone finds something i might need to put a warning for lemme know. this is first person POV tho. it was kinda hard to write in an x reader format.

{•_•}

am i a mother? absolutely i am. have i given birth to any children? well…no.

i’m not even completely sure when it started.

maybe it was at the farm. when i was fussing at daryl about taking care of himself and accepting help.

“dammit daryl when are you going to accept the fact that we care about you?! i get it, okay? seriously i do. better than anyone. it’s hard to accept love when you’ve never felt it before. but i, along with the rest of the group, don’t want you on your own anymore. please, just let us help you.” daryl just stared at me silently for a while, trying desperately to ignore the tears in his eyes. i couldn’t tell if the tears were from my words or because i yelled at him, in front of the entire group no less. but he didn’t take too long to respond. a mumbled “yes, mama,” fell from his lips, before he was walking to his separate camp to bring his belongings inside with the rest of us.

or maybe it was after the fact, when we were on the road after the barn fell.

when we had found a small river and the women were cleaning ourselves and i insisted the men let me fix their hair. glenn laughed with a mumbled, “sorry, mom,” when he splashed me with the water. i gave him a harsh flick on the back of his ear, “don’t do it again, glenn.”

or maybe it was before all of that, when we had first formed our group.

“merle dixon if you scare these children like that again i swear i’ll beat you black and blue!” the redneck knew better than to bother the children, yet he’d snuck up on them today, jumping out from behind a tree and roaring at them. he just chuckled at my comment, as if he couldn’t take me seriously. “what are you, my mother?” but his laughter quickly faded when he saw the look on my face, ducking his head and walking away silently.

anyways, whenever it began, i didn’t really mind it. the word didn’t hold any serious meaning behind it, simply used in a joking manner. until it was serious. until we were in the prison and carl came running into my cell crying every time he had a nightmare, when he would sob so hard he couldn’t breathe and i’d just shush him and hold him, rocking gently side to side. when he started mumbling “goodnight mama” or “love you mama” or “sweet dreams mama” before falling unconscious. when he’d say, “thanks mom,” when i brushed his hair every morning or when i helped him with words he didn’t know while reading or consoled him after an argument with his dad.

when i’d clean daryl’s injuries every time he got hurt on a run. and in the quiet solitude of my cell he’d let a couple silent tears fall from how gently i took care of him. and when i’d kiss his forehead and send him on his way after, he’d wipe his tears and whisper a barely audible, “thanks ma,” on his way out.

and when the people of woodbury joined the prison and carl was given the job of introducing everyone to our group. and not a single soul could remember my name, but they knew that i was mom or mama or whatever mother figure they needed me to be.

and when nights got too quiet and rick couldn’t handle the weight of the world on his shoulders, and i’d walk into his cell and he’d fall to his knees in front of me. he’d press his face into my stomach while he cried, and i’d run my fingers through his hair and whisper soft reassurances. and through his tears he’d cry, “i just can’t do it mama, it’s too much.” and i’d rock him too, and praise him gently, the same soft way i cared for his son.

and when the prison fell and the group met back together at terminus. and i was in a train cart with people i knew and people i didn’t. and when the introductions came to an end and all heads turned to me. and i was quiet for a moment until carl pointed and said “that’s mama. everyone calls her that. don’t ask her name ‘cause she’ll tell you a fake one since um b’cause she doesn’t know you.” and those that did know me nodded in agreement.

and maybe i did care, maybe the weight of the word pressed heavy on my chest because i knew i couldn’t have children of my own. but i had plenty of people to care for anyways. i had my own family. and i was a mama. whether they were mine or not.

[thesunisatangerine]

playing for keeps – chapter three

alexia putellas x barçakeeper!childhoodfriend!reader

warnings: coarse language, light angst

(a/n in the tags) [chapters: one, two, three]

word count: 8.8k

[1]

Just before you turned thirteen your body, finally, began to change. 

While Alexia’d gone ahead of you a year prior—with her limbs now lanky and sinewy, and her muscles stretched close to the newly grown bones—you were left behind. She’d grown taller, yes; not by much but the two-inch difference (two and a half, as Alexia was always inclined to remind you) felt like a foot to you. So the change was welcome when it finally started, and more importantly, it happened to coincide with something that completely altered the trajectory of your life.

During the spring after your birthday, your father got a promotion at work. To celebrate this milestone, he took you and your mother for a trip around Europe. And as a gift for your hard work and for getting into La Masia with Alexia just a few months before, your parents surprised you with tickets to at least one game in the country, or area, you were visiting. 

In Gelsenkirchen, Germany, you found your destiny. 

Or at least that was how you liked to look at it. 

Before seeing the match between Schalke 04 against Stuttgart, the idea of keeping never entered your mind; you’d played forward your whole life, and you thought that would be the position you’d play in professionally. But as you saw Manuel Neuer controlling the outcome of the game with his hands, a spark ignited within you—this overwhelming surge—and right there and then, you were enlightened to the art of keeping. That spark returned home with you and, playing into the hands of fate, your journey to keeping began.

[2]

The crescendo of the cicadas’ song was this close to lulling you to sleep. It didn’t help that Alexia’d curled herself up beside you in your bed, her head on your lap while her math notebook laid forgotten at the foot of the bed, and her eyes already closed. It was a rare occurrence for the both of you and even more so for Alexia to ‘slack off’—if you were to put it as Alexia had—but this afternoon was a particularly hot one. Summer had practically bled into spring, and even someone like Alexia clearly wasn’t immune to its soporific effect. 

The numbers from the homework you were working on began to blur when you heard a knock downstairs. Out of curiosity or just surprise, you snapped awake. And so did Alexia, apparently.

“You expecting someone?” Alexia yawned, stretching out her long limbs before settling over to her other side. The movement made a lock of hair fall to her cheek which you brushed away with the back of your finger.

“No, it’s probably Mamá’s.” You hummed in answer, relaxing down on your pillow to finally chase that nap that continued to tempt you.

But then came your mother’s voice, “Guille! Hello, my boy! How are you?”

Alexia let out a startled yelp when you jumped out of the bed, now fully awake, tripping on the rug as you rushed into the closet. 

“What the hell? What are you doing?!” Alexia hissed with annoyance but you were too busy trying to get changed to address it. 

You snatched the closest pair of shorts and jersey shirt, and began to shed the ones you had on before you slipped the fresh ones on in quick succession. 

As you did, you began to explain, “I completely forgot! I was supposed to meet up with Guille today!”

When your head popped out of your shirt, you found a deep crease between Alexia’s brows. She was sitting in the middle of your bed, cross-legged, looking very much like a disgruntled cat woken from a nap with the way her hair stuck out in odd places. 

She looked adorable. 

You bit your tongue before you could say it.

Crossing her arms, Alexia retorted, “Why? It’s Saturday.” 

The tone she used made it seem that today being a Saturday was a valid enough reason for you to not go. 

“And it is because it’s Saturday—and no training, Alexia—that I can go with him.” 

At that, her frown only seemed to deepen. You had half a mind to tease her but you knew that’d probably just piss her off even more, although if you were being honest, you didn’t understand just why this seemed to bother Alexia so much.  So instead of teasing, you tried a placating tone, “You could come with if you want?”

Alexia opened her mouth, “I—”

Your mother’s shout cut through the air. 

“Honey? Guille is here for you!” 

You sent Alexia one last apologetic glance. 

“I’m really sorry! Please stay for dinner! I’ll be quick!” 

And with a quick hug goodbye, you rushed out of your room and practically flew down the stairs. At the bottom, you found Guille leaning against the bannister, hands in his short pockets, with a small rucksack on his back who, upon seeing you, gave you a bright smile.

“Hey! You look—” He began but then suddenly, his eyes darkened and the quirk of his lips turned upside down, his tone flattening, “Oh. You’re here.”

In the same second you noticed Alexia beside you, Alexia’d slung an arm over your shoulders.

“Lovely to see you as always, Guille. And I could say the same about you.” Alexia deadpanned, flashing Guille a smile full of teeth, her eyes void of any warmth as she stared at him down her nose. Then she turned to you, her face lighting up as she asked with a little too much excitement, “So, are we going or not?”

“Wait, she’s coming with us?” Guille blurted out, but before you could even answer, Alexia left your side and ran down the steps. 

“Of course, Guille! Come on, keep up!” Alexia exclaimed on her way out of the door, tapping Guille’s stomach as she did—not without force apparently with the way Guille expelled air out harshly. 

When you got to him, you placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

“Are you okay?”

He let out a strained, “Yes.”

You gave Guille an apologetic look, grabbing your ball bag. 

“I’m really sorry for the last minute change. I’ll make it up to you.”

Still clutching his stomach, he said, “Don’t worry about it.”

The three of you got to the field near your place—which you were glad to find empty—without any more incidents. You were faced with another problem as it was only after you’d begun warming up that you realized that in your haste to leave, you forgot to bring water with you. When you told Alexia, she offered to go to the nearest corner store to buy some.

You stretched as you waited for Alexia’s return when Guille suddenly said behind you.

“Here.”

Turning, you found him holding a paper parcel bag. You considered his outstretched hand with curiosity before you met his eyes, taking the bag from him slowly. “What’s this?”

“Just a little something to get you started,” he answered, scratching the back of his head. “You said you wanted to keep, so I thought you’d need them.”

Peering into the bag, you gasped at what you found inside. 

A new pair of keeper gloves.

“Guille, you didn’t have to!”

He shrugged, smiling, “Yeah, but I wanted to anyway.”

“Thank you! Come here, you big baby!” You laughed, throwing your arms around him. Unlike Alexia, Guille was only taller than you by mere centimeters so it was relatively easy to ruffle his hair as you pulled away. 

“Mess up my hair again and I won’t teach you anything,” He threatened with a faux glare as he swept his fingers through his curling locks in an attempt to tame them. 

You rolled your eyes, grinning at him. “Okay, Antonio Banderas. So, what are the basics?”

He imitated you, rolling his eyes before he shook his head slightly, his smile never leaving his lips. Then he pointed to a spot by the goal line. “Put your gloves on and stand right there.”

You did, noting the way your new gloves fit perfectly over your hands and fingers. It felt different—stuffy—and you could already feel your palms beginning to sweat from the trapped heat. When you stood where Guille pointed, he walked around you all the while he instructed you to correct your posture: he told you keep your feet shoulder-width apart, to bend your legs slightly so that your chest was just past your knees, and to hold your palms facing out. 

“The main thing to worry about starting out is your stance. It will take time to get the balance right but once you get it down, you’re set.”

“Is this alright?” 

Guille took a step back and he gripped his chin as he hummed. After a moment of scrutiny, he nudged you back suddenly. It wasn’t quite forceful but it made you tumble down on your rear all the same. 

You smiled at him sheepishly, getting up. “I guess that’s a no?”

“Yep. It looks like you keep your weight on your heels too much.” He crouched down at your feet, drawing a square over the front half of your foot. “Keep your weight spread out around here and you should—”

Guille scrambled back suddenly, yelping as a football went flying past where he was just a second ago and into the net. Turning to the direction where the ball came from with your mouth agape, you found Alexia there with water bottles clasped to her chest, an eyebrow raised, while one corner of her mouth was set in a bemused droop, another ball rolling beneath her left foot.

“What the hell was that for, asshole?!” Guille shouted as he stormed his way over to Alexia. He was in front of her now, looking up at her with flame in his eyes but Alexia remained unfazed. She put the water bottles down before she settled her hands on her hips, cocking her head slightly to the side. 

“I’m sorry, Guille. I didn’t see you.” Alexia said flatly, “And aren’t you supposed to be playing keeper?”

“Really. You didn’t see me? Besides—”

“Ale, I asked Guille to teach me.” You huffed, running in between them and separating them with your arms before things got out of hand—again. 

This wasn’t the first time this… row between them happened. In fact, you noticed it’s been occurring more frequently lately. For all their similarities—the main one being their short tempers—the two never got on well together for reasons you never really understood and the only thread that tied them together was you. 

They weren’t always like this though; they were nice with each other the first time they’d met. Guille transferred to your school not long after you’d joined Sabadell, and if you and Alexia were inseparable there, it was always you and Guille at school. And when an opportunity arose for your two favorite persons to meet, you took it. It went well; they were friendly with each other. You only noticed things had changed after you and Guille’s school team started playing against Alexia’s so you were never sure when this all started, and by that point, the friction between them was too great to smoothen out which both saddened and disappointed you.

And it wasn’t like you never tried to get to the bottom of it. You’d asked them what happened, they both gave similar answers. By that, you meant completely avoiding answering. 

Guille’d assured you, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, we’re friends? Don’t worry.” 

While Alexia’d said with a confused frown, “What do you mean? Nothing happened.” 

And when you pestered her, asked her if the reason was because she liked Guille as a joke, she looked at you without reply, and when next practice came, she made a nuisance of herself enough to let you know the answer to your question and more. 

And here you were again, with them acting like this–always at each other’s throats. 

At your answer, Alexia looked at you, confused. “Why would you ask him to teach you how to keep?”

Your gaze lanced away as you bit your lip.

Maybe you should’ve told her after all… 

Mustering up the courage to meet her eye again, you replied, low and serious. “I want to start playing keeper, Alexia.” 

Alexia blinked, and then she crossed her arms before she eyed Guille who was scowling at her in return. She looked at you again. 

“Have you told Alejandro about this?”

“Yes.” 

“Oh.” A pause. “What did he say?”

“I’ll still start as a forward. But he said he’ll put in some extra technical sessions for me starting next week which was why I asked Guille to help me get started. Alejandro said if I get good enough, he’ll see if I can start as keeper for the team.”

An uncomfortable silence settled over you three. 

You caught Guille’s eyes darting from you to Alexia and back again from the corner of your eyes but you remained focused on Alexia’s face. At a glance, Alexia might seem calm—impassive with the way all of her features remained flat. But her eyelids drooped just so they hid more than half of her pupils, how her lower lip was slightly concealed beneath the upper one; she was pissed and even worse, she was hurt. And knowing that you’d hurt her was enough to compel you to reach out and touch her arm, apologetic.

Alexia regarded you for a moment longer. Another word of apology was on the tip of your tongue when she finally sighed, the corner of her lips tilting up to a half-smile as she spoke softly. “Okay. How can I help?”

You couldn’t help yourself. You threw your arms around her and it felt like a weight was lifted from your chest upon hearing the chuckle she let out.

The next couple of hours were spent with the three of you working together: Guille by the goal who continuously gave you notes and instructions, while Alexia—upon Guille’s signal—would send some shots to the net so you could try and stop them. The first… fifty or so shots went right past you—going easy was never exactly Alexia’s strong suit—but the more you focused on getting the timing right and reading the language of Alexia’s body to anticipate the direction of the ball, you ended the session with a few decent saves. 

It was a rough start but you were satisfied with it.

You’d left to use the restroom but upon coming back, the two of them were bickering once more.

Oh, no. What was it now?

You heard more of their words the closer you got, but you didn’t have to move too close with the way they were shouting.

“Come on, dude! Please, don’t tell me you’re still pissed off about that? It was a fair match!”

“How was that fair, Alexia? The two of you playing together is never fair! You’re both in La Masia for crying out loud! And even more importantly, she was supposed to be on my team! That was the original plan, but you went ahead and took her away!”

“What made you think I took her away?” Alexia crossed her arms, scoffing. “Let’s face it. She likes to play with me more than you.”

“You don’t know that!”

That was the moment Alexia spotted you and before you could even get a word in, she said, “Why don’t we just ask her who she’d rather play with?”

Two sets of intense eyes looked your way and without meaning to, you gulped, taking a step back.

“So? Who would you rather play with: me or her?” Guille asked, eyes wide and pleading. 

Suddenly feeling like you were backed into a corner, you stammered in your panic, “Umm, I—”

[3]

Alexia stayed over for dinner that night. That was normal; what was unusual was she left you alone to do the dishes. You had a feeling where she might be, especially since she’d been mostly quiet throughout the whole evening.

After you put away the last dish in the cupboard, and when your arms were finally free from suds, you took a peek into the living room. She wasn’t there—a confirmation of her whereabouts.

Putting on your flip flops, you headed out of the back door. 

The light from the living room casted a faint glow that dissipated the darkness around the garden when you opened the door that led out to it, aiding you just enough to see Alexia on the swing, sitting still with her back hunched forward. Once you were just a few paces behind her, you saw the contours of her headset, but even with them on, there was no way she didn’t know you were there—the fact that your shadow stretched to reach her before you did was a dead give away. Yet still, she made no move to acknowledge your presence.

Okay. That was fair.

“Ale,” you said softly. 

She gave you a glance before she went back to looking down at her clasped hands. 

“Alexia, come on.” 

Still no response. You fiddled with your thumbs as the moment dragged on. 

You sighed, sitting down on your heels next to her.

“I should’ve told you about the keeper thing,” you muttered. “I wanted to get a feel for it first, to get a bit better at it before I told you. But I didn’t consider how that would make you feel… and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for making you feel that I didn’t want or need you by my side, Alexia. I wanted you to think I was good enough for this.” 

Finally, Alexia turned to you, taking her headset off, the movement barely above a whisper. And softly, she spoke, “What made you think that I’ll think you’re not good enough for anything?”

“I don’t know.” You admitted, pulling at the grass in front of you. Your mother would probably see the hole you’d made on the lawn and berate you for it in the morning but you needed something to keep your hands busy. “I just wanted to go through this without too many expectations. And it’s not like I don’t want to keep our dynamic going. I love playing forward with you, Alexia, but I think keeping is my calling, just like midfield is to you.”

“You don’t have to apologize. I completely understand. You didn’t want any added pressure. I’m not going to hold that against you.” 

“Thank you,” you smiled at her. Then, “So, tell me why are you sulking?”

“I’m not sulking!” Alexia huffed with indignation. Then she looked away again, working her lower lip between her teeth.

You put a hand on her knee. “Alexia, what is it?”

“I…” Alexia sighed, brushing the bridge of her nose with her thumb. You gave her another moment. She heaved another breath before she began.

“That thing you said… Did you really mean it when you said you’d rather play with him than me?”

Oh. So that was what this was about.

“Of course not. We both know it’s always going to be you, Alexia.”

“Then why did you tell him that?”

“I feel like if I didn’t, I’d lose him as a friend.”

“And you’re not worried about losing me?” Alexia cried out, her tone inflected while her eyes reflected her hurt.

You blinked at her. 

There were moments—just like now—where you’d feel a sudden urge to shake Alexia. For all her sharpness and unmatched awareness, she sometimes failed to see even the most obvious of things. Couldn’t she see that you loved her and that you’d follow her to the edge of the earth if she asked you to?

At the absurdity of her question, you really couldn’t help but laugh. You stood up and shuffled behind her before you threw your arms around Alexia’s neck, draping yourself over her broad back, which made the swing move forward. The dampness of her hair felt cool against your cheek, the scent of your shampoo that clung to them filled your senses as you chuckled into her ear. 

“Why are you laughing? I’m serious!”

“Because, Alexia, do you hear yourself? I love you, you idiot!” You giggled again. “I know our friendship isn’t that shallow that I’d lose you over this. Or am I wrong?”

Alexia turned her head and you saw a hint of a smile on her lips. “No, I suppose not.”

A pleasant silence blanketed you both. And then Alexia hummed.

“But if there was something that could break us, what do you think it would be?”

You stopped to ponder, twirling a lock of Alexia’s hair with your finger, noting her hair was nearly dry now. When your mind drew blank, you replied nonchalantly, “Honestly, I have no idea.”

“Good.” Alexia leaned away so she could give you a lopsided smile—an earnest one. “Because me neither.”

[4]

“—you okay?”

You blinked and turned to Alexia. “Hmm?”

She glanced at you for a moment before she turned back to what she was doing, sleeves rolled up as she scrubbed a plate in the soapy water in the sink.

“I said, are you okay? Is there something wrong? You’ve been out of it since practice.” When a moment of silence lapsed, Alexia added, “And don’t think I didn’t notice you on your swing the past few days, too, because I did.”

You looked out the window and watched how the rain sluiced down the glass pane. In the darkness behind the window, you saw glimpses of soaked, curly locks and heard the hasty confession all over again.

You sighed, blinking the memory away.

“Guille asked me out.”

The sound of glass shattering and metal clanging made you jump, and you watched as a casserole pot twirled like a top on the hard, kitchen floor, while fragments of a broken plate skittered out to different directions. 

“Oh, shit!” Alexia cursed, looking down at the mess, while a voice called out from the living room. 

“Alexia, is everything alright in there?'' Came Eli’s voice. A few seconds later, Jaume’s head popped into the kitchen. He glanced at you then his eyes settled on Alexia who was crouched down, looking up guiltily at her father.

“Are you okay, girls?”

“Yes, Papá. I just… dropped some stuff.” Alexia said. You crouched down, too, about to pick up a fragment when Jaume spoke.

“Don’t pick that up, love, you might cut yourself. I’ll do it.” 

Jaume shooed the two of you to a corner he deemed safe and the both of you watched as he picked up the pieces, throwing them in the bin by the back door. Afterwards, he gave Alexia a kiss on her temple, and you a hug and a ruffle to your hair, as he retired for the evening, leaving the two of you again in your own company. Alexia went back to the sink to finish up whatever was left, and you returned to your place on the counter beside her. 

The silence that intruded was cut short by Alexia when she cleared her throat, “So… what did you say?” 

“I haven’t said anything, yet,” you sighed again, looking back out the window, the questions coming back full force. In the eight years you’d known Guille, how long had he harbored those feelings for you? When did it happen? What did you do to make him feel that way?

“Do you like him?” Alexia’s question brought you back to the present.

“I don’t know.”

“Do you want him?”

“Isn’t that the same thing?” You laughed slightly, glancing back at Alexia who shrugged her shoulders in answer.

“No, I don’t think so. Desire is a drive, like it makes you want to act. Attraction is just… I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s a weaker feeling. And they complement each other but they’re not the same.”

“And you know this how exactly?” You asked her teasingly, a brow raised.

Alexia averted her eyes, and shrugged your question off with a laugh.

In the moment of silence that followed, you traced Alexia’s profile, and your gaze ended at the elegant curve of the bow of her lips. She looked so pretty casted in the candescent glow of the kitchen light that it made your chest ache just by looking at her. You dropped your eyes to your feet as your mind ran faster than before this entire conversation happened.

Clutching your arms tightly across your chest, you muttered, “I don’t know what I want.” 

[5]

Maybe hoping it would all turn out fine was a bit naive because naturally, Guille didn’t take your rejection well. It was your fault really for expecting otherwise but nevertheless, the inevitable discomfort of disappointment settled like lead in your gut. 

The thing was, you were ready to give Guille the space he needed to accept your boundaries—friends, or nothing at all—and to heal. But accusing Alexia of making you turn against him? Now, that was something you couldn’t let pass. 

He knew he’d crossed a line, too, with the way he kept avoiding you. At first, the silence didn’t bother you; he was hurt, after all. But when the apology never came, you understood that you’d be going through your last year of high school without your closest friend there by your side.

A fortnight passed without any word from him so it surprised you when he showed up at the local meetup that the three of you used to go to. He refused to meet your eyes but he had no problem leveling with the glares Alexia kept giving him. And when you ended up in Alexia’s team, the only sign of his distaste about it was the way his lips flattened to a line. He looked like he was about to say something, but with a slight shake of his head, he turned around and made his way to his teammates.

With one last look at Guille’s retreating back, you tuned back in your team’s conversation.

“—doesn’t need to play keeper. We need her more in the offensive.” Alexia said evenly but when you met her eyes, there was a clear question in them. 

You gave her a slight nod to let her know you were okay. 

She nodded back.

“How will that work? She’s the better keeper.” And then Marco added, “No offense, Julia.” 

Julia only shrugged carelessly, a gesture of nonchalance.

“Julia is perfectly fine and besides, with you, Benji, and Carmen, our backline is already strong. The four of you together lessens our chance of conceding.” Alexia paused, looking over her shoulder to the other team before she faced you all again, continuing, “Our priority is the offensive. What good is a strong backline if we can’t counterattack? That’s why I’m suggesting she play as forward in the meantime, while Martina and I will play as interiors. Does that make sense?”

A collective nodding occurred.

“So just to clarify, we’re playing three–two–one?” Benji asked.

Alexia hummed, nodding her head. “Mostly. If we find the space and some opportunities, we can easily do three–one–two.”

“No pressure on us defenders, right?” Carmen said with a laugh, if not with a hint of nerve. 

Everyone laughed but at the end of it, Alexia placed a hand on Carmen’s shoulder. “No pressure because you guys, as I said, are very strong. You got this.”

Carmen smiled at Alexia at that, nodding before she finally moved to her spot. As you and Alexia moved towards the middle of the pitch, Guille was introduced to your line of sight, and a weight pressed in your gut. Disappointment? Perhaps. Or maybe you just actually missed talking and hanging out with him.

Alexia’s teasing tone pulled away your attention from Guille.  “I hope you haven’t forgotten how to play forward from all the keeping you’ve been doing.”

“Four years of keeping against the five years of playing forward? You need to brush up on your math ‘cause I think you’ve forgotten how to count.” You said dryly, giving her a look so dirty that had her throwing her head back in laughter.

Alexia leveled you with an unimpressed look but her tone remained playful. “You are such a bitch sometimes. You know that, right?”

“Thank you. I do try, you know. It’s my only defense against your smart-mouth.”

“Stop denying you don’t like my teasing.” Alexia waggled her brows as she smirked. The way she looked just then—with both hands on her hips, the ball beneath her left boot—your throat dried, heart racing; a sensation that’d familiarized itself to you during its recurrent visits over the past few weeks. Your mind blanked out, clear as the white of Alexia’s shirt, and when no words came to you to retort back, you shook your head and just laughed. By the time the game started—or maybe it was because it started—the feeling finally went away, replaced by the adrenaline that shot through your veins the moment Alexia kicked the ball to you.

It proved to be a tight game. The main strategy of the opposition seemed to be to mark and shut you and Alexia down whenever the ball so much turned your way. Alexia was right to trust your backline: any counterattack from the other team was dealt with immediately, and Julia only needed to save a handful of shots that passed through your defense, which she handled well.

At last, your team finally made a breakthrough.

Alexia cut a diagonal through the box, taking two of the defenders as she did, freeing up the space just behind her. You knew what she was doing so you faked a sidestep, turning quickly to lose your marker, before you sprinted in towards the middle of the box. And as you anticipated, Alexia sent the ball back to you with a flick of her heel. Now, if you could just—

The ground tilted, and there was a moment where the whole world suspended. It lasted for less than a breath before everything—the sensations and sounds—came rushing back in.

You slammed to the ground. 

Air was squeezed out of your lungs from the impact, while your skull and teeth rattled within the confines of your skin; the taste of green, earth, and copper spread on your tongue. Muffled shouts and grunts filtered past the ringing in your ear but when you cupped a hand over your tender ribs, your resulting groan was all you could hear.

When you finally came to, Alexia’s face was over you, the doubled image of her finally merging into one. Her wide, hazel eyes looked on you with worry and you felt the warmth of her fingers as they grazed over your face: from your temples down to your cheeks which she took in a gentle cradle.

“Alexia?” You let out another groan as you turned on your back while Alexia helped you.

“Tell me where it hurts.”

There was a tension that constricted around the front part of your head, but you could feel the blood pulsing most on the side that collided with the ground. “My head… it hurts.”

“Okay, okay. Just lay down for now, I’ll get you…”

You seemed to have passed out after that because one moment you were lying on the fields, and the next you were beside Alexia on her living room couch. You had a vague recollection of being carried on Alexia’s back, but the feel of the strong plane of her shoulder against your cheek remained there, warm and comforting. 

And only then, after Eli gave you ice for your head, did you see the bruise that bloomed deep in the skin of Alexia’s jaw, just below her left cheek, and the scuffed knuckles of her right hand which were splotched with deep reds and purples.

You took her hand onto your lap, gently running over the ice for your head over her knuckles, while you looked at Eli sitting on the opposite couch with Jaume beside her. Eli’s face burnt redder than you’d ever seen before, while Jaume held onto her hand, circling his thumb over the top of it in an attempt to calm her down.

Alexia remained quiet the whole time, eyes casted down as she took her mother’s reprimanding words. There was the unmistakable shine of shame in them, her guilt, but also an unwavering quality that stood for what she did. At the end of it, Eli and Jaume hugged the both of you before letting you retreat into Alexia’s room as you waited for your parents to arrive.

Instead of getting on her bed with you, Alexia plopped down on the floor just by the foot of the bed, her back against the wooden bedframe. You regarded the back of her head, her neck curved downwards, and you suddenly felt the need to be close to her so you shuffled off her sheets, and got down beside her. 

“Thank you, but your mother was right, you know? You shouldn’t have done it, Alexia.” You mumbled, unfurling her fingers to rest on your knee so you could access more of her knuckles that way. Gently, you placed ice over it, but she still hissed in pain. “You shouldn’t have punched him.”

“Why not? He deserved it.” Alexia said evenly as she stared at the far corner of the room. “And before you start defending him, you didn’t see what I saw—what the rest of us saw. He didn’t even touch the ball—it was all feet. He meant to trip you up.” 

Warmth bloomed in your chest at her words—at how her action showed just how much you meant to her—but the discomfort in your gut marred the surge of your affection for her. 

You took a deep breath, sighed it out, and it tasted like disappointment. 

“Alexia, I appreciate the gesture, I do. But you can’t just hurt people just because they did something to me.” 

Alexia puffed her chest and proclaimed, “I can.”

“Stop that nonsense, Alexia. I mean it.” Firmer now, you said, and there was a hint of desperation in the intonation of your words. There was an urgent need to make Alexia understand the gravity of what she did, what future implications it held if what Eli and you told her didn’t sink in now. “Actions like this can jeopardize you, Alexia, and all the things you worked hard for. Do you understand that? What will Alejandro say when he sees you all bruised up next practice? And if I get tackled dirty during a game and I get hurt, would you risk a red card, or suspension, for behaving like this?”

Alexia became silent, the muscle in her jaw working, and when she turned to you with her mouth open and you spotted a defiant crease in her brows, you were quick to stop her.

“If the answer to that question isn’t no, Ale, I don’t want to hear it.” The sound of teeth clattering filled the air. She casted her gaze aside again, her cheeks growing a shade deeper. “Look at me, Alexia.”

When she kept her eyes glued to the floor, you dropped the ice pack to take her face in your hands. She flinched from the coldness of your fingers but as you looked into her eyes, rimmed with redness and framed by drooping eyelids, you found exhaustion and the shine of apology. You brushed away a matted lock of hair from the tail end of her brow.

“You have a good heart, Alexia, but you have to promise me. Please don’t do something like this again. Ever.” 

Alexia looked into your eyes, deeply as if in contemplation, and then she closed them. A moment later, she sighed, sagging into your touch as if a weight had left her shoulders, before she opened them again. 

“I promise.” 

This time, you believed her.

Smiling softly at her, you whispered, while you placed a light kiss on her cheek. “Thank you.”

Settling into the moment, you rested your head against Alexia’s shoulder, her bruised hand in yours. In the brief silence before your father arrived to pick you up, Alexia spoke in an earnest tone that made your stomach flutter.

“I know you can handle yourself, but that won’t stop me from having your back.”

At her words, your heart felt like it would burst your chest open. And you should’ve known that this was where you’d end up—with her, it seemed inevitable anyway—because the years of you’d known Alexia flashed quickly before your eyes, and the memory stopped to this person beside you, haloed golden by the warm glow of her bedside lamp, and you were hit with a realization that took what little breath you had away.

You liked Alexia.

And, even more importantly, you want her.

[6]

When you got on the field in a Barça jersey for the first time after your return, you didn’t expect to be welcomed like you did. Jona subbed you on after the first half and as you left the tunnel, you heard the crowd chanting your name. The cheers made you feel excited, accepted and seen, but you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t pressure you at all.

It was originally intended for you to come on during the last twenty minutes, but seeing as Caro, Patri, and Alexia gave the team a comfortable enough lead, Jona decided to sub you on ahead of schedule. You didn’t see much action on your end though, something that you didn’t mind at all—a quiet defensive-third was the best kind. The midfielders kept the midline high to sustain pressure in the offensive-third, while the defenders maintained such a tight backline that any loose through-balls sent to the opposing runners were called offside. Of course, there were a handful of times when you needed to get out of your box to ping the ball back into the offensive, but other than that, it was quiet. When the match ended, you were satisfied that Barça had another clean sheet and four goals to add to the season tally.

For the celebration, you moved with your teammates around Estadi Johan Cruyff, and during the procession, you spied your parents, Eli, and Alba who was talking to a raven-haired woman you’d never seen before, clapping and cheering. Warmth filled you upon seeing your family in the stands again—such a scene was a luxury when you were in the States because plane tickets weren’t exactly cheap—and when you felt the familiar weight of Alexia’s arm slung over your shoulders, the fabric of her captain armband against the skin of your neck, it felt like a perfect homecoming.

Well, almost.

After you’d showered and changed to your casuals, most of the crowd had gone while some lounged about, one of which was the raven-haired woman Alba was talking to. When Alexia took her hand, you knew instantly, and your heart—damn your heart—dropped.

“This is Diana,” Alexia said after the both of them made their way to you. And if it wasn’t their intertwined hands that revealed what they were to each other, their gaze—saccharine when they met—made it all the more clear the nature of their relationship long before Alexia said the words, “my girlfriend.”

Diana beamed up at Alexia, her cheeks deepening in color before she regarded you again, sticking her hand out towards you to shake. Preceding the intention, you took her hand and when you did, Diana placed her other hand over yours, clasping your hand between her warm palms.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you. Alexia’s talked so much about you.” 

She did? Your eyes flitted to Alexia but when she shied away from that, you focused back on Diana’s face. She was stunning: with her high cheekbones carved to elegance, her brows following the perfect line of her temple, her full lips painted with a terracotta shade made deeper by the bronze of her skin, while her loose, straight, raven hair framed her face in such a way that accentuated the sharpness of her jaws. Her eyes were dark but still light enough to see the outline of her pupils, and they had an amiable shape that reflected her warm nature. And for some reason, her light brown eyes looked really familiar—

“Ah! My favorite cousin made it, after all! Although I’m not sure it was me you went to the game for!” Tori’s playful voice resonated in the near-barren corridor. Diana’s eyes flicked somewhere behind you—to Tori, you supposed.

“Don’t be like that, Tori, of course I came to see you, too!”

“Lies!”

Diana shook her head, laughing, as she took Tori in her arms. “Come here, you!”

In response, Tori said something in Portuguese that made Diana laugh. When they broke apart, Diana said, “Forget you? Never. Especially when I owe you one.”

“Owe her what?” Alexia asked with her brows creased with curiosity.

Diana took Alexia’s hand and squeezed it, looking up at Alexia with a gentle expression. “For giving us the chance to meet.”

“Damn right!” Tori exclaimed, putting both hands on her hips, as she grinned so wide that her dimple showed. Tori must’ve seen your confusion because she leaned in to whisper, “I brought Diana as my plus one for last year’s Ballon D’Or ceremony.”

You allowed your mouth to drop open before you smiled, letting out a small laugh that made your chest ache. “Ah, I see.”

“She kept complaining about going but now, aren’t you grateful I took you away from your precinct, Detective Beauregard?” Tori teased.

“She’s never going to let us live this down, will she?” Diana muttered dryly to Alexia but it was deliberately loud enough for all of you to hear. In response, Alexia threw her head back laughing. 

“You’re a detective? That’s amazing!” You said, impressed.

“Please, Tori’s exaggerating. I work in forensics. DNA analyst is the correct title.” Diana threw Tori a dirty look to which the other woman raised her shoulders in response. “It’s a whole different world compared to yours so—and please don’t let this get to your head, Tori—I am grateful I was able to step into it.”

Her eyes, still locked with Alexia’s, grew all the more soft.

“Get a room, you guys,” Tori said with a mock sound of disgust, and then she continued to mutter, “And to think that you’ve only been going out for four months… I don’t even want to think about how it will be like in another three months.”

At that, Alexia raised a brow and then, “Want to do some extra laps tomorrow?”

You and Tori knew Alexia was joking, but Tori being Tori, she spluttered, “That would be a hard no, Captain. I’ll just—Have a great night!” 

With that, she ran away, arms flailing behind her in an exaggerated manner as she hastily made her exit. The sight drew laughter from the three of you.

“We’re having dinner at Mamá’s, want to come over?” Alexia asked.

You shook your head, flashing a look at Diana, before you told Alexia,“Not tonight. I’m just about to head over to my parents’ as well.”

“Alright. But Alba’s going to ask about you, you know? I think she wants to hang  out with you.”

You laughed. “Tell her to text me. She’ll know what that means.”

“Is that something I should know about?” Alexia smirked.

Flatly, you retorted, “If it’s something that concerns you, I’d be telling you by now, right?” 

“You see what I have to deal with?” Alexia told Diana, almost whining.

Inching backwards, you said as dry as you could manage, “I’ll take that as my queue to leave, Alexia might start crying. She’s a crybaby, you know?” 

“Hey! I’m not—”

“No need to be embarrassed about it, Alexia. Be proud!”

Diana only laughed, saying, “Alright, kids, I think that’s enough for tonight.”

Nodding, you grinned at Alexia while she mouthed the word ‘bitch’ to you. In kind, you mouthed ‘smartmouth’ back. With a shake of her head and a smile, she gave you one last hug, and after a pleasant goodnight from Diana, the three of you parted ways.

You sent them a look over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of the watch around Alexia’s left wrist. It glinted as they walked together down the corridor, hand in hand, looking as in love as any new couple would. 

The sight made you smile, but it felt heavy, and as if the universe wanted to rub salt to the wound, you found Patri outside the locker room when you turned around with a look akin to pity in her eyes.

[7]

The next day, Guille stopped by at your place. He’d given you notice a few days prior but even still, the moment you saw him behind the door, you squealed like you were ten again from your excitement. After you hugged him tight—he made a choking noise when you did to tease you—you held him at arm’s length to see what changes the last few months had done to him.

He looked different. Gone were the long, dark curls; now sheared close to his scalp that left only about an inch of length, his hair retained their luscious shine, their color still as dark as night. 

His scar—the one just by the tail end of his left brow—that used to see little light from the obstruction of his hair, now stood apparent and without meaning to, the day he got it came back to you: the bruised knuckles, ice-cold fingers, and the warm blush of a lamplight.

 And your chest ached a little.

Leading the conversation to the living room, the two of you ended up ordering takeaways—mostly for Guille’s benefit because you weren’t about to subject him to your football diet—and as you ate, the two of you caught up.

Guille was close to finishing his dissertation—the biomechanics of concussion in sport and its neurocognitive implications—and he was both excited and fearful about what would come next. He then talked about his girlfriend, Iris, smittenly if you might add. She was actually with him in the city, but his mother insisted she steal Iris for the day for some quality bonding, and you laughed at the repertoire of stories he’d relayed in great detail about his mother’s teasing of their relationship.

“When am I going to meet Iris?” You asked with a teasing tone.

He rolled his eyes, “Well, since you’re actually staying in Barcelona this time, we can arrange that.”

A pause, and then, “Is Alexia staying here, too, or are you here by yourself?”

“No, it’s just me here.”

“Oh. I thought the two of you’d be rooming again like—” Probably seeing your change in demeanor, Guille cleared his throat as he ate his pasta a bit too eagerly. “Speaking of, how is she?”

The question was casual but you knew it was anything but.

“She’s doing good, if not a little stressed. Our first Champions League game is just around the corner after all and it’s against Chelsea, so.” You shrugged to complete your thought. You knew what he was asking but you’d rather not talk about that.

His eyes could burn a hole on the side of your head by the way he stared at you in the silence that followed. Then he sighed deeply.

“She still doesn’t know.”

Tension filled every inch of your body and you shrank tight as a coiled spring. You stood up as you felt a sudden urge to get away from him, taking the used plates on the coffee table as a pretense to move from the couch to the sink.

“What’s it to you if she doesn’t know, Guille?” You asked flatly, rolling up your sleeves after you turned the tap on.

“I just want you to be happy. Is that so wrong?”

“And who says I’m not?” Your tone was flat and when you glanced at him over your shoulder, Guille only gave you a pointed look.

Then he said softly, “She could make you happier and you know it.”

And there it was again, that look in his eyes that you just couldn’t stand. Gritting your teeth, you gripped the edge of the sink and your voice quaked when you spoke. “Please stop talking like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like,” you tried to find the words but when they evaded you, you huffed and threw your hands up in the air. “Why are you making it sound like I have a chance?”

“Because you do! You’re the one who’s not giving Alexia a chance by not telling her.”

“Give me one good reason why I should.”

“She loves you.”

A pause.

“That’s bullshit.” You shook your head, letting out a small, disbelieving laugh. As much as your heart wanted that to be true, you knew otherwise.

“It’s really fucking not.” Guille countered.

“If she did, she wouldn’t have said what she did.” 

“People say stupid shit when they’re drunk.”

“That can go the other way, too. Alcohol has a way of loosening what’s been bottled.”

“Oh, come on!” Guille scoffed. “You’ve known her since you were eight. You’ve been through thick and thin together! Do you really think she wanted you to leave?”

With the reminder, the memory sprung up on you and you could hear Alexia’s voice, grating and wrenching your heart raw again when you heard the words from her lips. You whirled around to face him, eyes burning.

“You weren’t there when she told me, Guille!” You breathed out sharply and then you continued, in a lower tone filled with resignation, you whispered as you buried your face in your palms. “You didn’t hear the way she said it. You didn’t—”

You choked on your words. 

After all this time, it was still too painful.

Darkness filled your vision but the tears escaped nonetheless, branding tracks down your cheeks. You heard the rustling of clothes followed by soft footsteps. Before you knew it, Guille’s arms wrapped around your shoulders and his familiar, comforting scent made you sink into the embrace.

“You’re right. I wasn’t there. But if you could forgive me for being an asshole and what I did to you, why can’t you do the same with her?”

You didn’t say anything after that, only clutched at his shirt a little tighter.

Guille kept quiet, too.

The both of you knew just the reason why.

[8]

“Did you see the news?” Jona asked as he kept the door open for you to an empty meeting room, closing it as soon as you’d gone in. 

Sitting down on one of the cushioned chairs, you said, “I did.”

You saw it this morning and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t faze you. 

Jona nodded, taking the chair across the table from you. He put his clasped hands on the wooden surface and the way he tapped an erratic rhythm with his thumbs didn’t help your nerves.

“Lyon paid a hefty transfer fee for her and that makes me worried. I don’t know what Bompastor is planning to do with her but her transfer to the European league will be a concern for the club.” With a pensive crease appearing between his brows, he continued. “You probably know why I asked you to come in.”

“You want me to tell you what I know about her.”

He nodded, leaning forward as if to emphasize his point. “She’s a lethal forward and you’re the only one in the club who’s ever played with her. In fact, you two seemed very close during your time in Angel City.”

You crossed your arms, leaning back into your chair, frowning slightly. “I don’t know what you’re trying to say.”

Jona blinked at you.

Then slowly, “Surely you must’ve trained closely together considering she’s a forward and you’re a keeper? Unless training was vastly different in Angel City, then I’m sorry for the assumption.”

“O–Oh, I thought you were implying—” You shook your head, uncrossing your arms as you waved the rest of your sentence away. “Never mind. But yes, that’s right.”

Jona gave you another questioning look before speaking again. 

“She’s going to be a big problem. And that’s why I’m going to change things up a bit. I want to put you in the starting lineup as soon as possible—put as many games with our current team under your belt. We’ll most likely face Lyon in the Quarters and that’s unfortunate but what is great is that you’re here: the best counter to what Lyon acquired. If we could eliminate Lyon early, we have a higher chance of winning this year’s Champions League. The question is, are you ready for it?”

“That’s what I’m here for, Jona.” You said seriously, ignoring the pressure that pressed in the periphery of your mind.

“Use me.”

[rafyki]

Episode 11 really showed Jack's growth

Okay, I know what you're gonna say: "but he lashed out at Joke! He threw him away again! He got so angry!". And like- yes he lashed out, yes he didn't stop to think, yes he got extremely angry. But that literally happened in the first ten minutes of the episode, alright? There's more than a hour after that, so please let's focus on everything else that happened too, and the fact that Jack acting like that literally only lasts for a short while (as I already said, everything happens extremely fast in this episode, if you really think about it he only stays made for less than a day, which is a perfectly valid period of time to need to sort through complicated feelings - hell, it's an incredibly short time, Jack got over himself extremely quickly).

Anyway, lemme go in order, because I'm not just talking about his relationship with Joke here, but about everything else too.

There are two main things about Jack's character arc (well, more than two, but I wanna focus on these ones now): first, his tendency to hold grudges and be hard on forgiveness and, second, the fact that he never stands up to power and powerful people in an active way (I'll explain better what I mean later).

As for the first, I made a whole other post about it, so I'm not gonna repeat everything again, but let's see how in this episode he got to the end of his growth in this aspect.

He's extremely mad at the start of the episode (rightfully so), so much that he goes on a rampage (we love to see it, tbh), even though he should know that it wouldn't end well.

When he wakes up, he's still mad - of course he is, he didn't have time to think and process everything yet, given that he was beaten unconscious until now. He gets mad at Grandma when she mentions Joke, and then he lashes out at Save and Hope. It's understandable.

But then? Then it only takes Hope saying this for him to calm down and put things into perspective

I think it's important to point out that here it's only been maybe a few hours since the hospital scene. And here, Jack finally has time to think.

This it when he finally stops and thinks and realizes that he was wrong, that he didn't have any right to be mad at Save or Hope (or, well, he does, but how should also be able to understand their positions, because he's been there too), because they're all in the same situation in the end; and he realizes that Joke only did what he did for him. This is the moment when he finally has time to think and realize he was wrong (both about Save and about Joke), realize that he doesn't want to lose Joke, that he misses him.

Let's not forget that the start of Jack's character growth was to learn to forgive. And here, he shows that he's finally able to do this.

He works together with Save and Hope, he trusts them. Why didn't he call Joke to join them then? Well, I think he probably wanted things to calm down first so that after that he would have the time to actually talk to Joke. He didn't have the time to do that in the end, and that's the tragic thing.

But we know that's what he planned to do, because that's exaclty what he says.

Anyway, let's move on or this will become way too long lmao

It's not only in terms of learning to forgive that Jack grew. It's also in the way he finally decides to actively act to oppose Boss.

I mean, Jack was caught in Boss' web of power since he was young, and he's had to deal with the fact that he couldn't escape it, couldn't defeat it, for years. And so, he always submitted to Boss, in a way.

Yes, when he was a debt collector he went against him, in secret (and sacrificing himself and his own money), until Boss found out and Jack had to bow his head againt before him. When Gradma was in the hospital, he let himself in Boss' grasp again and even when Joke and Grandma slapped some sense into him his way to oppose Boss was to simply tell him he didn't want to marry Rose anymore, but was still willing to work for him; now, we know that that only worked because Joke had stolen the ring. What would have happened if Joke hadn't done that? Boss would have refused, of course, and Jack would have had bowed his head again.

Until now, Jack's actions were often passive, a result of him having no choice. Even when he played the ladder game against Lompran, that wasn't a real choice.

Not now, though. In this episode, Jack finally realizes that he can't keep doing it, that he needs to fight back for real. And this is the first time that Jack realizes that he can't always do the morally correct thing if he wants to defeat people like Boss.

Jack has always had really solid morals, and he's always lived by the fact that he needs to be better - better than the corrupted people in power who use them and look down on them. And that means he can't accept theft as a valid way to fix things, even if it would be justifiable and it would make things easier. But he can't do that, because that would mean that he's just as bad as them. Poor people are always expected to do the right thing.

Until now. Because now Jack has finally realized that he can't play it fair against people like them, he understood how that world works, and he realized that he needs to play following their game's rules.

He's learned the power game's rules and he's ready to play.

And that's what he does. He's able to take advantage of Lompran's greed and use it for his own ends, and he's not afraid of risking his own or Save's life - because he knows at this point that they can't play it safe anymore.

He played the game but he also kept his morals, because he still didn't do it for himself; he played their game but he's still better than them

Jack has mostly been a passive force until now, but in this episode he's finally the active force - he's the one with the plan, the one who takes the lead. (Joke, on the other had, has always been the active force of the show, and in this episode he's the passive one, but I'll make another post about this another day)

And I think this will be obvious in next episode too, when he'll (finally!) get a gun and do everything that's needed to save Joke and everyone else from Boss.

And he finally understood that the world isn't black and white and that sometime you need to do something "bad" to fight back, both for youself and for others. And that that doesn't mean you're a bad person.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

good news I got that bullet out I can speak me truth

Charles wears a collar to let Erik choke him with it, maybe some binds BUT ALSO maybe some consensual mind control, happily making Erik tie him up in a sense then letting him get a full look like “well, wonder what you could do while I’m like this :)” who knows. anyways gonna get my bullet wound sewn up since Erik just yanked it out of me

good morning beautiful inbox of mine i see youre trying to kill me before 10AM

[honeycreammilkshake]

there will be cake.

i finally finished my first fic, and it's greenflame! it takes place between possession and skybound. i spent a few days on it and i'm still not satisfied... it still feels a bit ooc and amateur to me, but please let me know what you think. here it is...

Sitting down for dinner with the other ninja, Kai had no intention of talking about anything serious, let alone marriage, and especially not how he should go about proposing to Lloyd. But picking at his bowl of chili, he looked around to his friends, watching them talk about their day with animated expressions and exaggerated hand gestures, observing Cole and Jay arguing about every detail of their training so they could trade insults while blushing whenever anyone (mostly Zane) pointed out just how closely they'd have to be watching each other to know such minor things about their routines. And when Kai glanced over to his sister she was already glancing his way with an exasperated smirk at Cole and Jay's antics.

The only absent one was Lloyd. The Green Ninja was training late, as usual, pushing himself to his limits. The perfectionism was at first a little annoying for Kai, who tended to take any show of exertion as a competition against him, but overtime he'd learned to accommodate his boyfriend, who was typically late to dinner or outings with the rest of them. The pressure Lloyd must have felt, every single day, to not only lead the rest of them but to also make his pretty much godly ancestors proud of him had been grinding on him even more as of late, and Kai didn't want to add to their young leader's troubles. Still though… after their last battle, almost losing Lloyd to possession had made him keenly aware of how fragile the normalcy of all their lives were.

At any time, they could find themselves under attack once more. Ninajo had a reputation for attracting the most dark-hearted, vengeant, and power-hungry of villains, and Kai had to wonder if there was some kind of sign posted out for all the tyrants coming to seize this particular place. Something massive and neon was advertising how siegable and conquerable this entire land was somewhere, he was sure.

But as a ninja, bound and entangled with all the rest of his team (a fate he would never want reversed or changed in any way), he knew he would lay down his life for any one of his friends if it ever came down to it. And, naturally, he knew in his heart that no matter how much he teased or gave Lloyd trouble, he would stand behind that completely unhinged god-in-training no matter what. Wherever Lloyd led him, he would follow. And it was because of this that he knew he had to make their relationship even more official, even more sacred, so that when villains like Morro or Chen or the rest came knocking again, Kai would know there was still a chance at a normal life, even a small part of it, in their own lives. That he could say that Lloyd was his in more way than one and come back home to that small piece of stability.

Now, watching his friends continue to taunt and push each other, a warm feeling suddenly overtook Kai, not unlike the sensation he got whenever he drank a nice cup of Wu's tea. He felt it blossom inside of him, a hot and protective surge that came whenever he thought of the others, especially Lloyd. He knew he could trust them completely, he could ask anything of them and they wouldn't treat him any differently for it.

So it was without any filter that he found himself asking, "Guys, if I were to hypothetically propose to someone… someone who's very uhm… career-driven and practically all-powerful, how would I go about asking them to do something absolutely ordinary like marriage?"

A small silence briefly overtook the table as the others, except for Cole who was still digging into his plate without interest in anything else, glanced around towards each other. Nya, on Kai's left side, was completely still all of a sudden and opposite him Zane and Jay exchanged looks.

Just as the stillness was starting to become unnerving, Zane, always practical, broke in, "Logically the best way would be to—"

"Oh my gosh, you guys," Jay all but shrieked. "Kai and Lloyd are going to get married!"

"Wait what????" Kai burst out, feeling his cheeks start to heat up. "I didn't say anything about—"

"Oh please," Jay scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You're the fire ninja, Kai, so whatever you're trying to cover up, you still burn holes right through it." He was picking at his bowl of chili delicately, like most of its contents offended him, and by the way he had complained about every other dish Cole had prepared for them, you would think it was genuine. But Kai knew the Blue Ninja would sneak lots of extra helpings of Cole's meals whenever he thought they weren't looking. And seeing as how most of Cole's food was… to put it plainly… bad, Kai knew it was because Jay was simply (and not so secretly) completely crazy for the Earth Master.

"You guys thought it was such a secret, but we could all tell what you were up to," Jay continued, matter of fact, then smirked. "The walls here are really thin, you know."

Kai groaned and buried his face in hands. "Okay," he sighed out. "So what if it is Lloyd?"

"I knew it!" Zane exclaimed from Cole's side, face lighting up. When the others looked to him, he explained, "Pixal told me they have a 95% compatibility rate. Lloyd's sensitivity and high emotional intelligence counterbalances Kai's hotheadedness and temper—"

"Yeah yeah we get it," Kai huffed, feeling called out.

"My vitals monitors indicate that your heart-rate speeds up whenever Lloyd appears," Zane added helpfully. "My data also suggests that Lloyd's libido increases whenever he watches you training."

Beside him, Nya made a choking sound. "Oh my god," she gasped, wiping away dribbles of water from her lips. "Please never say libido again, Zane."

Despite the embarrassment at having his secret relationship exposed so quickly, Kai couldn't help the way that information stroked his ego. All the time that little brat had been claiming to watch so closely to point out errors in Kai's form (as he always did) he was secretly checking Kai out shamelessly. It made him flush with more than a little contentment, but he got a hold of himself quickly, and managed to grit out, "Okay guys, that's enough."

"Where would they even get married though?" Jay pushed on, ignoring Kai entirely.

"Somewhere big enough for all of us," Zane pointed out. "I can compile a list of popular wedding locations and analyze them for suitability."

"No no," Jay dismissed, whipping his spoon around passionately so that a bit of chili hit Kai in the face. He wiped it off with a grimace as Jay continued to lecture Zane. "It should be somewhere perfect for the both of them..." Jay bit down on the handle of his spoon and then grinned widely at Kai. "I know just the place—my parent's junkyard!"

Kai blinked, caught off-guard. "Jay, I'm not marrying Lloyd in a junkyard—"

Across the table, Cole's face finally unfused from his plate long enough for him to shout, "Will there be cake? I'll definitely come if there's cake!"

"Always thinking with your stomach, right Cole?" Jay snarked. But the Earth Master chose to ignore him, much to Jay's disappointment.

As the others continued to conspire Lloyd and Kai's wedding, loudly describing each lavish detail — "Lloyd should wear all red so Kai can wear all green... and there should be dragons!!!" Jay contributed while Zane added, "Kai should put Lloyd in his lap and ride in on one to the ceremony" and Cole piped in, "And there should be triple stacked cake afterwards!" — Kai's ears picked up shuffled movement in the hallway. He sat up straight. Wu and Misako were out getting "vital" supplies like flavored tea and herbal medicines — old people errands — and they weren't expecting anyone else to come calling. It could only be Lloyd.

Getting that sensation he got whenever he was about to be cornered, he felt himself start to panic. "Guys, if you don't shut up now, I swear I'll send every single one of you to the Cursed Realm," Kai hissed out. "I don't even care if we're on the same team — you will all be banished for your crimes. This conversation is over."

But, of course, cause everything and everyone hated Kai, this was the exact conversation Lloyd chose just that moment to walk in on.

With a short glance around to the other ninja, he came into the room and a crushing silence followed as they all tracked him with their eyes. He walked casually, carrying a bowl laden with an excessive amount of Cole's chili (which wasn't that bad but it also wasn't that good either, so Kai felt Lloyd had filled it to the brim subconsciously) and settled down in his usual spot to the right of Kai, slowly lifting his spoon to his lips…. Lips that were twisted up in an unmistakable smirk, the one Kai knew and adored so well, that he loved to bite on — but right now, seeing the way it melted away the usual prim and proper princely beauty of Lloyd's face into the wild rawness of the conceded brat he really was, all Kai could think was Lloyd knows…. He's been listening in on the whole thing!

"What's all this about cake?" Lloyd asked, oh so innocently, as if he didn't know already, and Kai kind of wanted to manhandle him right then and there for being such an unyielding brat.

But before Kai could say or do anything to grab at any sort of control over the conversation, Jay leaned in closer to Lloyd, conspiratorially settling his chin into his cupped hand like he was about to tell the world's greatest secret. With a hauntingly straight face he said, "Only that Kai can't keep his eyes off yours."

… And then everything kind of blew up in Kai's face.

Nya and Zane burst out laughing and Cole let out a bellowing huff before slapping Jay across the back so hard the Blue Ninja's face almost landed in his uneaten bowl of chili (Kai wished with his whole heart that it really had). Jay glared briefly at Cole but then the Master of Earth said, "I guess that's why they call you the Master of Shocks! That was a good one, Jay."

Pure pride swelled the Master of Shocks' chest, making him look just like a puffed up little blue jay — which he technically was… though Kai could barely register the humor of it as sticky hot embarrassment exploded inside of him.

"Oh wow you guys," Nya finally managed to gasp as she held her sides, like she could fall apart from the delicious humiliation of it all. She wiped at her eyes, choking out, "Look at Lloyd's cheeks — they look like cherries!"

Lloyd's mouth was pressed together tightly, and his cheeks were definitely a deep scarlet that Kai took some satisfaction in seeing, but he knew his own cheeks were probably just as red and burning twice as hot.

And of course Jay would point that out. "Guys, check out Kai's face — he's burning up!"

"Oh the irony," Nya giggled.

"Red ninja indeed!" Zane chimed in with a grin that practically spilled off his face. And in that moment, Kai had never been more certain in his life that he was surrounded by traitors. Enemies.

Kai ground his teeth together and finally managed to squeeze out some sort of response. "You're all banished."

The other ninja, minus a cherry-colored Lloyd, started laughing again as Kai sat there, gripping the edge of the table and plotting revenge. Only Cole made any kind of move towards redemption, leaning closer to both Lloyd and Kai to say, "You know we're just teasing you two… We're really happy to see you making things more official. And just so you know, I would love to be there for you, even if there no's cake for me."

"You do know the whole point is so that Kai gets to keep the cake just for himself, don't you?" Jay smirked.

Before Kai could set fire to either himself or Jay, Cole turned to the Blue Ninja and smiled. "Don't worry, sparky, I'll make sure to claim a cake for myself too," he said, and proceeded to reach over so he could grope Jay's ass as the smaller ninja let out a high-pitched squeak.

"Who's the Master of Shock now?" Zane grinned as Jay started choking.

Nya pursed her lips and said, "Really? Right in front of my chili?"

Kai moaned and buried his face in his hands as the entire table descended into chaos. But it died out quickly as Lloyd stood up, his face unreadable, that silken smirk of his erased from his lips. As Kai peeked up at him, he couldn't help but feel… reverent. Lloyd was strong, and fierce, and brave. And more than that… he was the magnet that kept them gravitating to him, to their destiny. Their fates were inexplicably tied to his for the rest of their lives. They all shared a bond deeper than mere friends: they were each other's counterparts and focal points and homes.

And nobody was more at home with Lloyd than Kai.

"Kai," Lloyd began, and Kai felt the air rush out him as soon as Lloyd turned those ember-bright eyes right on his face. "Do… do you really want to marry me?"

Kai's heart was pounding far too fast. It felt like the adrenaline spark right before a battle. "Of course," he managed.

The other ninja were finally fully silent, their eyes wide and watchful. Feeling bold, Kai pushed away from the table and stood right in front of his boyfriend. Then he sank to his knees, his eyes never leaving Lloyd's, and swallowed. "You know that all of us are bound to you, and all of us would protect you with our lives, just as you would do for us. But the bond I share with you runs even deeper. I promised you that I would protect you, and that I would follow where you lead me, that you could always rely on me, so I would like to ask you now… Will you let me follow you forever? Lloyd Montgomery Garmadon, will you marry me?"

In all that time, Lloyd and Kai didn't look away from each other. The others remained blissfully quiet, but there was a current of anticipation coursing through the room.

It felt like an age before Lloyd cleared his throat and said, "Of course I will.... Someone has to keep my cake away from Cole, after all."

Kai groaned but found himself grinning anyways. "You're insufferable," he told Lloyd and pushed up from the floor.

"That only means you're even more perfect a match," Nya pointed out from Kai's side, but she hugged her brother tightly, patting him on the back. They both knew how much this meant to him...

Lloyd and Kai returned to their places at the table and tried to resume eating normally, but they kept glancing over to each other until Jay scoffed and said, "You two, honestly, go get a room."

"Quiet, sparky, you'll get yours soon," Cole winked and Jay started to protest.

"If you think I have any interest at all in a dusty piece of rock like you—"

"Yeah yeah," Cole waved him off. "Keep pretending, bluey."

Lloyd laughed and reached over to offer his hand for Kai to hold. Kai took it gently, and didn't miss the way everyone stared at their joined hands, their fingers twining together.

"No matter what comes in the future, we'll face it together," Lloyd promised Kai, and they felt each other's pulses jump at his words.

Kai nodded, soaking up the way the light hit the pale gold of Lloyd's hair, making it look just like a glowing halo. This boy would be the death of him, he just knew it. He couldn't help the smile spreading across his face. He raised a spoonful of chili towards Zane, Cole, and Jay and gave his best unhinged grin. "The future looks bright for you and me both, but right now I say we take these three down for being so obnoxious," he suggested and Lloyd grinned too, wild and full of fire, just like Kai.

"What?" Zane sputtered. "I didn't do anything!"

"Wait!" Jay cried out. "But we helped you propose to him, Kai!"

Lloyd snorted while Kai rolled his eyes. "Sure you did," the Master of Fire said, then launched the first spoonful at Jay's surprised face.

"Food fight!!!" Nya cried, pounding her fist on the table before she upended her entire plate on Kai's head.

Kai gasped, shaking sticky shrimp out of his hair. Reaching up, he felt the clingy, pasty sauce of the dish matting his once-immaculate spikes, and he shrieked, "GET HER, LLOYD!"

With a roar, the table fell into chaos again. As the ninja threw handfuls of food at each other — except for Cole who sat there lamenting the waste of it all — Lloyd and Kai looked at each other and smiled. Everything that they had ever done, all that they had ever faced and clawed their way through, had been worth it for moments just like this. With a laugh, Kai leaned in and kissed Lloyd in front of everyone, not even caring to keep anything concealed anymore.

He didn't even care when Nya shouted, "Gross!" and splashed the rest of her water on them. With a smirk, he pulled Lloyd closer and set a palm to the boy's back to dry out his clothes.

"You know," Zane said afterwards, as everyone settled down. "Someone has to clean all this up before Master Wu returns."

"Not me!" Jay was the first shout.

"We will," Lloyd said calmly, volunteering an unwilling Kai before he could protest. "We started this after all."

"They had it coming," Kai argued but stopped when Lloyd cast him a sharp look.

"You said you'd follow wherever I lead," Lloyd reminded Kai, then smirked his signature smirk when Kai let out yet another groan.

"Alright then," Kai sighed. "Lead me to the dishes."

"Get used to this," Jay said smugly. "This is going to be married life for you from now on."

Cole stood up from his seat and brought the rest of his plate down, shrimp-first, on Jay's head. "And this is going to be married life with me," he promised the Master of Lightning and walked away smiling.

"Welcome to the family," Nya said to Lloyd before standing up from the table.

"Can't be crazier than my family," Lloyd called after her, then turned to Lloyd. "Well, let's get cleaning."

Kai sighed melodramatically but didn't complain. He had promised to follow Lloyd wherever he lead him, even if it was just to another mess to clean up. So he smiled as he knelt down to pick up pieces of dinner from the floor with Lloyd. He wouldn't have traded it for anything else.

[soccerpunching]

It's abt 2 hours away from 2024 from where i am...

Let me use this time to thank all of you for being part of my 2023, you made it better than the horrible mess that it was. Thank you for sticking with me even tho the last 4ish months have been so busy for me and made me inactive.

I wish more opportunities come to you.

Special thanks to the people I screamed with in 2023, you were all loud enough to blast my demons away :> @frosty-tian @honeycrashed @feisaru

And for the rest of you that made my days lighter and helped me hold on for another day... you were all real ones and i wish we can get closer this 2024:

@toomanybirdy @churro-on-a-unicycle @corvidayays @marmolao @d34dbr4in @voetballers @jellyavi @lazitoelgato @eky-13 @arugan @nanairomelette @queen-jass-blog @hunternugget @garbage--account @lovesealss @pxnky-prxmise @hsohangout @otakufimi @oicuperp @henry-old-hollywood @kapane-luyeshu @zakuryoishi @raimon-eldritch-chronicles @nawemichi @sceptile11 @redpandawrites-123 @lyionly-wants-to-die

[harvestmoth]

more rejuv things but its. its just this guy again, im sorry shes all i can draw

[girl-lostconnection]

YESSS I SO AGREE!! omggggg she’s such a productive queen. and after she finishes her trilogy, mailing a signed copy to her man, duh, she’s already working on her fourth. but this one is a standalone, i think. “the diaries of the soldier’s lover,” she titles this one. and she writes about how simon essentially saved her from losing her mind in year 10 and how she wishes she could be like a little angel on his shoulder, following him always. she names herself his guardian angel and thanks him deeply for the love that he has helped to grow, like a rose blooming with no thorns.

and she mails him a copy of this, too. and i like to think that for her first trilogy (some fantasy story she conjured) she used a pseudonym. but this one has her name written all over it. because she’s just so proud of him!! and she’s signed his copy, with big frilly letters and a heartwarming message.

price is like, “damn, simon, gettin’ a lot of mail lately, aye?” whenever simon comes to get his weekly mail from price’s office, and simon is too choked up to even say anything. did a tear just stain the page? no, surely it’s raining in here. or the ceiling is leaking! surely.

he reads this book like his gospel, and he’s sure that with this one, the book that he inspired, she’s touched the hearts of many wives out there. his wife is a famous author. all things that will be true within due time.

he writes her a letter, a simple diamond ring tapped haphazardly inside the envelope. “does it count if i ask you to marry me through parcel?” he writes, messy scrawl and silly little arrows and correction markings.

she cries, too. and yes, of course it counts, you oaf. she wears that ring everywhere. her husband is a lieutenant, she finds out in his next letter. he is a leader. and a damn good one.

she wears this ring even after price has shown up at her door, metal necklaces dangling from his fingers and his boonie hat long forgotten — his head bowed in shame.

AGHHGGHHH this au is eating at my brain and im not even mad i dont even caaaaare, they’re so precious and broken and they fit together. and im so sorry for the angst it just kinda happened…… 😣

— 🍓

NO YOU DIDNT. NO ANON HOW COULD YOU, YOU KILLED SIMON OMG.

In all seriousness that’s a damn good idea, anon, you should actually write it out, it’s sweet and it sounds really nice and it’s so so warm.

God, I almost cried on the part with him typing in a ring and asking her hand in marriage, god, of course Reader would marry him, how could she not. God, actually, step aside Reader I’m gonna marry this man. Oh my god.

And Price showing at her doorstep with Simon’s dogtags because it’s not the first soldier he’s buried but damn, if this wasn’t a special one. And I’d imagine your Reader wearing his dogtags until the day she dies, talking about him like he’s still alive.

She’d probably say things along the lines of “Yeah, my husband is really proud of this one, thank you so much” or “Yeah, I’m sorry, I’m not available. I’m married” and people always get a little worried when they find out Simon is no longer alive.

Because she keeps on living and she still talks about him like he’s there. And maybe for her he really is. Maybe that’s the way she keeps herself tethered to reality, joining the support club and writing another book — talking to the spouses of other military personnel through them. Sharing their pain, extending her hand through the pages and kind of saying “hey, I feel it too. I know your pain. You aren’t alone. I’m here”.

And she never judges other spouses for their ways of coping because hey, she gets that. She knows how it feels to choke on tears when the love of your life is lowered into the ground.

She knows how it feels to write to someone who can never answer, she knows how it feels to turn to talk to someone who’s not there anymore, how it feels to forget sometimes that hey, he’s dead.

Someone once wrote that when their spouse died they felt so shocked and overwhelmed that their first subconscious instinct was to call the said spouse and share news with them. Their first instinct was to go for comfort to the person they lost.

That’s how (i think) your Reader would feel in lieu of Simon’s death.

Luckily for the rest of you, who aren’t me and strawberry anon, im not gonna kill Simon. I have fragile heart, I wouldn’t do that to you, guys *pats your backs* death is too finite for me.

And I like to get real creative with suffering (damn that sounded ominous)

[arytha]

[ID from ALT: Digital fanart of Perradat and her pope Lady Dusty from Full Server First Kill by Nian Zhong. Perradat's head rests serenely in a bouquet of white flowers, held aloft and supported by Lady Dusty from behind. Her golden hair spills out of the bouquet, and her blue eyes sparkle faintly. The paper wrapping the bouquet gives the illusion of a halo. Lady Dusty is a larger woman dressed in a pleated black dress, with a black veiled hat with melted black, lightless candles and white flowers on the rim. Looming behind the two is a headless body, a vaguely girl-in-a-dress shaped form in grey that's much taller than Lady Dusty, and almost melts into the black background. The art is framed with gold. End ID]

The God of Fate, Perradat

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

coughs up blood new mutuals pls wait for me i have this mental illness where i am most comfortable communicating through long rbs on ur fics

[wherenymphsroam]

can we . stop making commenting on people’s weights. like just in general please