#norwegian delights

[isbergillustration]

I still think someone should buy that painting because I think it’s pretty cool. Also, cat enforced break from the painting I'm working on. She is painting too, but only in Norwegian*.

[bogkeep]

there's actually a brand new norwegian netflix drama about salmon CEOs that takes place on an island in central norway. everyone speaks trønder dialect. i actually had a lot of fun watching it

[sinceileftyoublog]

Susanna Interview: The Heart is a Muscle

Photo by Ida Fiskaa

BY JORDAN MAINZER

Susanna Wallumrød dives deep. When I last caught up with her in 2020, she had released Baudelaire & Piano, sung interpretations of poems from Charles Baudelaire’s The Flowers of Evil over piano arrangements. She told me at the time that the Baudelaire project "will be my main thing for a while," which turned out to be a severe understatement. 2022's Elevation added a couple more collaborators and instruments to the arsenal of Baudelaire adaptations, and last year saw the unveiling of Baudelaire and Orchestra, a collaboration with The Norwegian Radio Orchestra to bring Baudelaire's words to a full-on ensemble. While her fascination with Baudelaire and its subsequent manifestations have ballooned, Wallumrød's been focusing on something more simple, yet infinitely more complex at the same time: love. In August, via her SusannaSonata label, Wallumrød shared Meditations on Love, a project written over five years that concerns anything and everything about how and why we feel deep affection.

Unlike the Baudelaire trilogy or 2019's Hieronymus Bosch-inspired Garden of Earthly Delights, Meditations on Love has no concrete source material, Wallumrød taking inspiration from her own stories and that of family and friends. That said, she still treated her exploration of such a broad-reaching theme with her usual scrutiny, and the songs as growing, shifting entities in need of the right caretakers. She chose to work with someone new, Finnish-Norwegian composer Juhani Silvola, as her co-producer; together in the studio, they augmented Wallumrød's arrangements, ditching her usual minimalism for something more rhythmic, and encouraged the session musicians to add in instrumental flourishes. As a result, various aspects of the songs sound like they're in conversation with one another. On album opener "Everyone Knows", the narrator confronts a cheating lover. They're heartbroken and angry but terrified at the prospect of life without their partner. Harald Lassen's alto sax flutters, Dag Erik Knedal Andersen's hand drums pan, and Wallumrød's vocals descend into wordless melisma, mirroring the narrator's mental back-and-forth. On "Battles", Wallumrød posits that relationships can feel like war. Her vocals, the pulsating percussion, and the horns sound like they're chirping at one another.

The best quality of Meditations on Love is its embrace of the intangible and the surreal. That is, even if Wallumrød's groundwork making the album was intense, her conclusions are unconcerned with traditional logic. Her lyrics delve into dreams, colors, and nature rather than interpersonal drama. On closer, “I Was Never Here”, she's so forlorn that she begins to doubt her own existence and dissociate. "Black Heart", whose pulsating bass tones and sharp and wincing guitars and synths act as an initially unintentional but eventually doubled down homage to Angelo Badalamenti's Twin Peaks theme, explores, "What's hidden in the light / Beyond the blue sky." On "Elephant Song", her ultimate declaration is, "We don't know what will happen in the end," words that are presented alongside swelling strings and percussion, like the grand reveal in an epic film. Wallumrød's meditations are not peaceful. Instead, they're sonic tornadoes that lay bare their inconclusive paths.

Next month, Wallumrød will start to play Meditations live, yet another infinite-seeming puzzle to conquer. She'll be part of a five-piece band, which will include Silvola and Morten Barrikmo, the clarinetist who played on the album, as well as drummer Jan Martin Gismervik and multi-instrumentalist Marthe Lea. (Espen Høydalsvik will provide sound design.) Because Wallumrød--and any artist who doesn't sell out arenas--can't really afford to fully tour such an ambitious project, especially internationally, it's hard to predict how much the Meditations songs will continue to morph as they're performed in front of an audience. She's thankful that the album has physical distribution not only in Norway but throughout Europe and in the U.S., making it easier for folks throughout the world to get physical copies, listen, and perhaps decide what its main, all-encompassing theme means to them.

A couple months ago, I spoke with Wallumrød over Zoom about the construction of Meditations on Love, the relationship between music and imagery, and nature. If you happen to live in Norway, you can catch her a few times next month. The album's record release show is November 2nd in Oslo at Parkteatret Scene. She's performing with just vocals and Silvola on guitar at the Nesodden Jazzklubb in Akershus on November 20th. Finally, the five-piece band returns November 29th at USF Verftet in Bergen. Whether or not you live in Norway, read our conversation below, edited for length and clarity.

SILY: With the Baudelaire material occupying so much of your time, you knew you wanted to do something different going into your next record. Was there something specific that made you want to focus on the theme of love?

Susanna Wallumrød: Yeah, I guess from the start of the writing, I started to go in that direction, of the matters and condition of the heart. I was curious to see if I could attack the heart from different angles, because I got curious about the ability to love. I feel like it's almost a muscle that needs to be trained.

SILY: Did you cull from personal experience, the experience of friends and family, or from other art when trying to get at matters of the heart and love?

SW: It was a mix of all of that: my own experiences, and devastating things that happened in my family that opened it up some more than what I already knew about. It's been a research project.

SILY: I wouldn't expect anything less from you, the same approach and level of diligence you put into musical interpretations of classic works of art and poetry, you put in for music inspired by a more abstract theme. Did you find that your research-like approach was similar to when you were writing songs based on Baudelaire and Bosch?

SW: I think so! Of course, I had been doing interpretations for a while, but I keep on learning from those different processes. There are a lot of things to bring onto the next project.

SILY: Do you feel like you had to adjust your vocal approach for these songs, that are so much more rhythmic and expansive than what you had done recently?

SW: Yeah, I guess there's some different approaches to that. I made all of these songs on the piano. The next step in the process of the recording of it [was] to see how we could expand the songs with the arrangements and production. The vocal approach [fell] into that. [For some] songs, like "I Took Care of Myself" and "Big Dreams" and "Elephant Song", [it was] quite late in the process when I had already started to play with how they could be presented.

SILY: Are you the only one singing on the record? I know your vocals are layered, so I was wondering if when I was hearing different voices, it was just your voice, pitch-shifted.

SW: Yeah, it's only me.

SILY: It's effective on "Big Dreams" when you sing, "I have big dreams for you." The voice becomes an instrument as much as a communicator of words and ideas.

SW: Absolutely.

SILY: I love that the video for "I Took Care of Myself" takes place in a hockey arena because the organ on that song reminded you of the organ played at hockey games.

SW: When we were in the studio and working on the organ theme, we started to get these images of being at a hockey game. It was super fun to actually be able to realize these images for that song.

SILY: When I read that, and listened to the song again, I thought to myself that it sounded like a more sped up, weirder version of what I might hear at a hockey arena in the U.S.

SW: [laughs] Sure.

SILY: When making "Black Heart", were you trying to make a direct homage to the Twin Peaks theme music?

SW: I wasn't, but it turned into that more and more when we were working on it. It started out quite different. When we had the guitar sound layered out, the ground core of the song, it was easy to move in that direction. [laughs]

SILY: Does that happen to you a lot, where you're subconsciously inspired by something and discover you unintentionally paid tribute to it, so you lean into it and just accept it?

SW: I think so! It's a fun way to work. I like so many things about Twin Peaks, so it was obvious when it happened even though I didn't know it would happen.

SILY: A lot of the instrumentation on this album does sound filmic. At the end of "Elephant Song", when you sing, "We don't know what will happen at the end," the swell of strings and percussion is very orchestral. Do you ever look at your music as something that inspired images?

SW: I think it does. I think of my music in images a lot of the time. This time, Juhani Silvola, the producer, talked a lot about using a lot of different instruments and to "paint" different sound worlds and soundscapes and universes for the songs. You can compare that to short movies.

SILY: You do have a lot of lines on the album referring to colors: "blue heart, blue night" on "Black Heart", and on "Where Has the Love Gone", lines about how when you're in nature, the colors of various elements, like trees, give you certain feelings. Do you feel like you experience your life in colors every day?

SW: It's getting more and more the way I experience things. I have a special focus on that for this album. The lyrics or the meditative themes on this album are linked to nature. I've had really good experiences of being outside in the forest.

SILY: Do you tend to spend a lot of time in the forest in Norway?

SW: I try to when I have time. It started during the pandemic, when we were stuck in the city center of Oslo and everything shut down, it was really sad and boring. [laughs] We got all this hiking equipment so we could go outside. My husband and I started during the pandemic, which was a huge help during that period. When I don't travel that much or I have the time, for sure, I'm a lot more outside.

SILY: Do you see a lot of wildlife?

SW: A little bit. The forest is quite a big part of the Oslo area. It doesn't take that long to get out there. So, lots of birds, some snakes, elk. The big scary animals don't live here. [laughs]

SILY: Can you tell me about the album art?

SW: The main cover is an illustration by an artist called Ingrid Torvund. I came across her not that long ago when I was working on these songs and the album. I really like her pictures, illustrations, sculptures, and video art. She makes films from the forest with weird animals and creatures, with sci-fi vibes to it. They are really gorgeous. I thought I could use some of her stuff, and I had been working with other artists before, and some are really reluctant to make something new on commission. I was thinking I could use some of her already existing work if she didn't want to make something for the album. I just asked her, and we hadn't really figured out exactly how to do it, but she had made the main cover illustration, and sent it to me, and I really loved it. I found it so fitting and soothing for the album and songs. It felt like a really good match.

SILY: Have you played these songs live?

SW: I haven't! We just started to rehearse with a couple of musicians, and we're being joined by a couple more in a month. We'll be a five-piece band to try to do this live. It will be fun, but it's a process to find out what elements we want to keep for the live editions. I really don't want to do tricks. I really want it to be played, so we have to find out how to work the chorus of songs and sounds.

SILY: What else is next for you?

SW: The Baudelaire orchestra project has become massive. I made a full orchestra concert last year, and then we altered those arrangements for a smaller soloist ensemble, with one person per instrument with really good musicians. That project, the Baudelaire trilogy, and the orchestra, has been so massive alongside this Meditations album.

I haven't really recorded anything [new], which feels a bit weird, actually. I usually have a lot of things going on at the same time, but now, I'm more in the writing process for a couple of other projects. I'm making some music in relation to Hildegard of Bingen, an 11th century nun who made Gregorian music and wrote several books about ecological gardening, the mystics and religion, and also early feminist thoughts. That's super interesting to explore.

SILY: Even if it feels weird to not be recording, does it feel good to be in the early thought process, creation, and writing phase?

SW: Yeah, I love that. I have several writing projects. I'm looking forward to keeping on working with that.

SILY: Is there anything you've been listening to, watching, or reading that's caught your attention or inspired you?

SW: I stumble across things all the time. There are a lot of things going on in the Norwegian music scene these days, a lot of young people doing really interesting hybrid genre projects. I was recently in Gothenburg and saw Anna von Hausswolff. She just played at the Opera House there with some dancers from a Dutch company. It was really interesting to see.

SILY: Are you planning on coming to the States?

SW: You never know. [laughs] I have been trying or planning to several times, but things have certainly gotten so much more difficult, travelling and playing. I was hoping to come next year, but we'll see if it's possible to realize.

SILY: I know you've played Big Ears in Knoxville before. Is that usually the catalyst, where a festival invites you over and then you book a tour around it?

SW: Yeah, absolutely. It makes more sense. That is exactly what we need. [laughs]

[repulsiveliquidation]

Dress Up || Alexia Putellas

warnings : smut (18+), vibrators, strap-ons, cunnilingus, e-stim, aftercare, bottom alexia.

summary : alexia bumps into you at a party and in exchange for ruining your shirt, you give her a night of multiple orgasms that she won't forget.

The smell of smoke and alcohol was sure to stick to your costume when the party was over. The team Halloween masquerade party was in full force and the girls didn’t disappoint with their costumes.

There were appetizers that filled the dining table as well as waiters walking around with champagne and small bites of food, most of which looked appetizing to the captain. A chocolate fountain that was quite occupied was on the end of the table; Alexia was sure that she caught someone that looked like Mapi sticking her tongue under the flow a few times.

Giggling at a tall Norwegian looking woman scolding the chocolate-covered Spaniard, Alexia stepped into the bar area to grab herself a drink. Patri was in a corner of the bar, snuggled up next to a girl that Alexia didn’t recognize. Smiling, she pointed to the bottle of Pinot Noir, examining the brand and year before nodding satisfactorily and watching the bartender pour her a glass. Alexia sauntered back into the party with her little glass of liquid courage, looking around for a frame that she hoped would fulfil her plans for the night.

Turning the corner into the bathrooms for a quick little touchup, Alexia accidentally bumps into a broad chest that gets red wine spilt all over their costume. The tight white shirt that did nothing to hide the pierced nipples underneath a tight leather jacket lead Alexia’s eye down to the leather pants that were tighter than she’d seen you wear before. Alexia’s eyes widen in shock as she takes in the sight of you in front of her. 

“Hello to you too babygirl,” you greet, pulling Alexia into the bathroom. She grabs a handful of tissues and begins to wipe you down, lips muttering her apologies a mile a minute.

“I’m sorry Amor, I was being stupid, I didn’t see you!” Alexia whines, grabbing more tissues to wipe your shirt with. You lean in and peck her lips, watching her calm down. You pull your jacket off and watch your girlfriend’s eyes light up.

The sleeveless see-through top did nothing to hide the fact you didn’t have a bra on. The ripple in your muscles as the leather slipped off your shoulders sent shivers down Alexia’s spine. You grab the hem of your shirt and pull it off, toned stomach giving Alexia nothing and everything at the same time.

Her hand trails down your chest bone slowly, eyes slowly getting darker and darker. You pull your jacket back on and the black on your skin makes you almost glow. The jacket gives just enough coverage but anyone with eyes could see that you were certainly making a statement.

Your fingers hook on the belt loops of Alexia’s mini skirt, pulling her into your arms. She smiles shyly, wrapping her arms around your neck. You kiss her and she giggles into the kiss, hand softly cradling your head as you deepen the kiss.

She pulls away when you sigh into the kiss, smiling to herself as a little blush comes across her cheeks.

“You look stunning,” she compliments, adjusting your jacket. You grab your wine-stained shirt and turn her around, slipping the end into her skirt in the back.  

“Thank you baby,” you tell her, pecking her cheek. “Meet me on the dancefloor in five? I’ll get you another glass of Pinot.”

She nods and is about to turn the handle of the door when you speak up.

“Wait,” you growl, reaching into your back pocket. You hand Alexia a box.

“Have fun. See you soon, beautiful.”

You turn the knob and disappear in a flash, leaving Alexia to her own devices. She locks the door before looking at what you left for her. She pulls a face of shame and pure delight, eyes scanning the Bluetooth vibrator that you gave her.

“Enjoy,” was what was written on a note in the box. Alexia threw her head back and cursed you just a little, feeling the weight of the toy in her hands. She hiked her skirt up and dropped her panties (your favorite red lacy ones) and gave her clit a few soft rubs. She sighed and threw her head back, feeling her arousal soak her folds.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” she whispers underneath her breath, gently pushing the toy inside herself. She huffs, feeling the silicone settle inside her as she stands to her feet. One quick once-over in the mirror before stepping out into the party again. She saunters over to the dancefloor where she sees Mapi and Ingrid having the time of their life, Jana and Jill hunkered down in the quiet corner dancing slowly by themselves, and you holding her fresh glass of wine and a crystal half full of whiskey.

She reaches out for the glass of wine, taking a little sip before turning around to press her back against your chest. The mood in the room shifts and the music slows down, a tonal jazz beat fills the room and most couples leave no room between them.

Your free hand comes around Alexia’s middle, pulling her closer to you. She rests her palm on top of yours and sways with you, tuning out everyone else in the room as she becomes hyper-focused on you.

For a moment, she forgets about the toy inside her.

You down your whiskey in one shot, placing the glass on a table near you. Your hand now joins the other around her waist, gently guiding the captain in a little dance of your own. She melts into your arms, eyes closed as your cold fingers leave a lasting sting on her sliver of exposed skin.

Her glass was empty by the end of the song, now left beside yours on the same table.

One hand disappears from on top of hers and she thinks you’re pulling away before there’s a jolt and she does not expect it.

You turned the toy on for just a second to see her reaction and it did not disappoint. Alexia yelps and you manage to play it off as if you step on her toes. No one seems to pay much attention and the party goes on without you two, before Alexia is abruptly turned into your arms to face you. Your arm rests on the small of her back and you press yourself closer to her. The remote in your pocket you hold with the other, gently going through the stages. 

Alexia has her hands around your neck for stability, trying her best to keep her legs from giving out. You turn it to medium and hold her waist, dancing slowly along to the music. Alexia kisses you to keep her moans in, the toy vibrating intensely inside her. You groan when she slips her tongue into your mouth, pulling her closer against you. She feels her orgasm begin to sneak up on her and somehow you do too, reaching into your pocket to turn it up.

Alexia whines in your neck, catching herself before she fell to the ground in pleasure. Thankfully the dance floor was packing up and the lights were lower, no one saw the captain’s eyes roll into her head as her orgasm ripped through her. She kissed you hotly and you moan into her mouth, pulling away to see the feral look in her eyes.

“Fuck me right now or we’re going to have problems.”

You grin and nod, taking her hand and heading to the elevators. Once inside, Alexia can’t keep her hands to herself, reaching out to pull you into her arms. She kisses you hard, pressing you tight against the wall. Her hands are cold as they slither around your middle, the coldness of her hands sends shivers down your spine as the warmth of your skin prickles underneath her touch.

Alexia fumbles with your tight pants, unbuttoning it in a hurry to get to you. You stabilize yourself by holding the handles along the wall, watching as the number on the screen of the elevator gets closer and closer to your designated floor. She dips her head down to suck on your perked nipples, the metal bars on them allow her to tug them with her teeth. You moan, gripping the handrails tightly as her tongue slowly begins to swirl around your nipple.

The elevator dings and you rush out of there fast. Alexia pulls your jacket off your shoulders from behind as you fumble with the keycard. You drag her inside and are all over her, after slipping the ‘do not disturb’ sign on the doorknob.

Alexia whimpers when you push her onto the plush bed. Her eyes sparkle as, for the first time tonight, you notice the glittery eyeshadow she had on. You stand tall and admire her, watching as she slowly takes her tank top off to reveal your favorite lingerie set.

Suddenly remembering the toy that she had inside her (admittedly you caught a glimpse of it as she opened her legs a little in an attempt to tease you), you reach into your back pocket and pull the remote out. Pressing the number two on it, you watched as your girlfriend went from smug to a mess in mere seconds. Alexia moaned as her legs closed on themselves, feeling the intense vibrations in her core.

“Amor…” she moaned, laying back on the bed in an attempt to calm herself down. You turned the vibrations down to one and get on top of her, slowly taking her mini skirt off. Kissing down her middle, she squirms underneath you as the sensations start to build up.

“Sí princesa?” you coo, rough hands caressing her smooth thighs.

“Need you…” she whimpers, fingers playing with her clothed core. The smooth silk of her lingerie was soaked as you watched her play with herself. Alexia momentarily forgot you were there, bending her legs wide open as she gently pushed her panties off to the side to touch herself properly.

“Looks like you’re all settled in with yourself, don’t think you need me darling.”

“No!” she yelps, “no, need you amor, can’t do it myself.”

“What do you need, mi reina?”

“Need your cock inside me,” she whines, pouting softly. In a stroke of genius, she lifts her pruning fingers to her mouth for a little taste. She watches as your eyes follow her hand in her mouth and you sigh, blinking softly with a smirk on your face. You turn the vibrator back up to two and lean in, grabbing her chin softly.

“I want you bent over with your ass up by the time a get back, understood?”

She nods, eyes fluttering as your thumb pushes gently into her mouth. She sucks for a second and whines when you pull away, watching as you disappear into the en suite closet and bathroom.

Alexia touches herself a little more as she hears you fiddling in the bathroom. Her pussy is soaked and she’s on edge, the vibrator inside was not enough but overwhelming at the same time. She slowly turned onto her stomach, pushing her knees up to arch her back on the bed. She made sure to give you a nice deep arch, settling herself comfortably before hearing you come back into the room again.

“Fuck, you look so gorgeous like that princesa,” you praise, hands caressing her ass as you come up behind her. Your fingers graze over her clothed pussy, all four fingers rubbing at her cold, soaked cunt.

Alexia moaned as you touched her, fingers pressing just right to move the vibrator that was inside her to press on her sweet spot. You leaned down and bit her ass, gently pulling her underwear to the side to retrieve your toy. Alexia gasped as it was pulled out of her, relief washing over her that did not last long.

You reached for the remote and turned it all the way up to five, pressing it right on her throbbing clit. Alexia cried out and couldn’t hold back her brewing orgasm, trembling violently as her second but not last orgasm ripped through her lean frame.

Alexia whimpered into the mattress for you to stop, thighs shaking uncontrollably until you pulled away. Turning the toy off and giving it a rest, you crawled onto the bed facing Alexia. Your cock hung right in front of her face, the semi-hard silicone was tantalizing to say the least. Alexia reached for you, lips wrapping around your cock slowly as she maintained eye contact. You watched as she sucked earnestly, eyes rolling into the back of her head when you thrusted forwards into her mouth.

You gathered her hair into a ponytail, thrusting your hips forward as she gently grasped your thighs for support. She gagged and sputtered all over your cock, gasping for air as you pulled away from her gently. You cupped her face and kissed her passionately, feeling her hand wrap around your cock to lather her spit all over.

“You gonna be a good girl for me?” you ask, watching carefully as Alexia turned around to push herself back onto her knees. Her back arched deep, ass pushed out just how you liked.

“Only the best for you,” she says sexily, looking over her shoulder. You grin and nod, reaching for her hips. You press yourself into her, filling her glistening core. Alexia moans, gripping the sheets tight as you fuck into her hard.

Your nails dig into her hips, pulling her back onto your cock. Alexia does nothing to hide her pleasure, moaning loudly in pleasure. You spank her ass, fucking into her deeper. You hike a leg up, giving yourself a little more leverage to fuck into her with purpose.

She wet and sensitive, feeling her third orgasm of the night creep up on her. Suddenly, she hears the vibrator turn back on and feels it press right up against her clit again.

Her mind goes numb with pleasure, orgasm rippling through her hard and fast. She whines and whimpers, lips chattering as she tries her hardest to moan your name.

You pull her up against your chest, hips unwavering as you pound into her way past her orgasm. Tears run down her face as the sensitivity fades and pleasure takes over once more.

“Feels good amor? Is this how you planned to spend your Halloween?”

“Sí! Sí, por favor!” Alexia moaned, reaching back to hold onto you. She could feel that familiar tug behind her navel as you fucked her fourth orgasm out of her. At this point, Alexia was past being coherent in her awareness. She wanted to come, and there was nothing that was going to stop her.

You suddenly stopped thrusting into her, much to her annoyance. You pulled away, slipping out of her dripping hole swiftly. Alexia turned onto her back, ready to rip you another on but you rummaged in your duffel bag, grabbing a long baton-like device. Alexia stared at it curiously, wondering what you had up your sleeve.

Alexia sat up in bed, watching curiously as you sat in front of her. You gave her a glass of water that she was grateful for, making sure that she finished half the glass. She handed it back to you and you finished the rest and put the glass back on the side table.

“What’s that?” she asked, rubbing your thighs gently.

“E-Stim,” you tell her, demonstrating what the baton did on your own skin. She heard the little crack of electricity and it certainly did pique her interest.

“You wanna try it?” you ask, turning the dial down to the lowest setting. “You tell me if you don’t like it and we’ll not use it okay? I’ve got the receipt to return it!”

Alexia laughs at you, nodding gently as you press it gently on her skin. She jolts and you pull away but she looks up at you with a smile.

“¿Estuvo bien?”

She nods.

“Words, princesa.”

“Sí, it was okay,” she mutters. “More than okay.”

You nod, leaning in to kiss her. Alexia smiles into the kiss, laying back gently. You kiss down her chest to her dripping core. You moan as your tongue licks over her folds. Your tongue circles over her clit and she’s got her hands in your hair, grinding her hips into your mouth. Your teeth nibble her clit gently as you push your fingers into her to scissor her open. Three fingers thrust in and out of her with ease, soaking them thoroughly.

You get on top of her and lather some of her never-ending slick on your cock to wet it again. It slips in smoothly, allowing you to get back into fucking her with ease.

You speed your hips up considerably, pounding into her harder and faster. Alexia is back to moaning loudly without a care in the world, holding her legs open as you turn the e-stim stick up a notch. You sting her thigh and the electricity sends a shock straight to her core, thrusting her closer to her fourth orgasm of the night. Alexia looks you in the eye, jaw wide open as she moans her approval.

“Want a little stronger, ¿Cariño?”  

“Please!”

You turn the dial up to three, leaning back to pound into her faster. You sting her stomach this time, just under her belly button. Alexia jolts, abs tightening as her orgasm begins to bubble.

“You wanna come for me, sweetheart?”

“Yes!”

“Come,” you growl in her ear, sending one last sting just above Alexia’s clit. She comes so hard she passes out for a few seconds before regaining consciousness, still impaled on your cock. You fuck her awake and she comes for a solid 30 seconds before you stop.

You lean down and kiss her passionately, pulling out slowly. She’s sensitive and sore, so you grab another bottle of cold water from the mini fridge and gently help her drink it. She gratefully kisses your cheek as you leave her to grab a warm washcloth, wiping her clean.

She starts to whine for you when you leave to rinse the cloth, crawling back into bed to cuddle with the captain.

“Was that good?” you ask, cradling your girlfriend close to you as she scrolls through Netflix.

Alexia nods and turns her head to kiss you, giving you a long and slow kiss that rounded off your night perfectly.

"I'd spill wine all over your outfit one more time if it meant you fucked me like that again."

"Don't tempt me, princesa."

[pitchsidestories]

taste II Ingrid Engen x Mapi León x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1018

a/n: dear readers, this short, a little silly but cute oneshot was inspired by this request here, happy reading. 🫶🏻 🐈‍⬛

Autumn has finally arrived in Barcelona. Leaves painted in red, orange and yellow started to fall from the trees for one last dance. Baghera was entranced by what nature did and watched everything from her favourite spot in the living room close to the window.

Every year you both were falling in love with that season of the year, as it might be an ending to a summer you fully lived, but also the beginning of something fresh and new.

The champion’s league was about to start and games under the lights were always something special, alone the thought of it filled you with giddy excitement.

“Girls, I invited Esmee for dinner. That’s alright, right?”, you asked your girlfriends who were already in the kitchen.

“Yes, of course, kjaerste.”, Ingrid nodded friendly, standing in front of the stove. While Mapi was launching around in one of the chairs in a sitting position which screamed gay, and parents would judge because of bad posture.

“She was so sad that her parents left again. I thought she could use the distraction.”, you continued. The sad face of the young player was still fresh in your memory.

As a foreign player yourself you knew that being separated from your family for such long periods of time was hard especially when the nights got colder and the daylight shorter.

When you first came to Barcelona at Esmee’s age you were glad that Mapi and Ingrid welcomed you into their home with open arms, the appartement you began to share with them turning into a home away from home soon.

“That’s very sweet of you.”, the Norwegian commented, her forehead covered in frowning lines, looking concentrated at the recipe ahead of her.

“What’s for dinner?”, Mapi questioned smirking.

“I’ve something delicious planned.”, Ingrid announced delighted.

The Spaniard and you took a curious glance at the cookbook before exclaiming, faces formed to disgusted grimaces. “Pumpkin soup?!”

“Why do I have two children, one who has no patience and the other has the taste bud of a toddler?”, the dark-haired women groaned in response.

“Excuse me?”, you replied, pretending to be offended.

“I said what I said.”, Ingrid declared who tried her best to suppress a smile.

“Can’t you make some chicken nuggies?”, you asked your girlfriend, giving her puppy-eyes which you hoped would warm her Scandinavian heart. Often this worked out perfectly fine.

“Please, please, please.”, Mapi supported your suggestion loudly.

“Girls, seriously?”, Ingrid sighed, the defender and you knew from her sigh alone that you both had won in the question of what’s going to be for dinner.

A knocking on the door interrupted the discussion. You opened the door for Esmee and led her into the kitchen.

“Hi everyone. Ingrid, what are you cooking? Can I help you?”, the young player asked politely, peeking over the shoulder of the tall Norwegian.

“I’m making pum-…“, she started, one last attempt to get someone on her side.

“We’re having chickie nuggies!”, Mapi and you announced simultaneously.

Finally, Ingrid gave in: “Yes, we’re having chicken nuggets…“

“Thanks, love.“, you thanked her, beaming.

A small smile appeared on her face as she nudged your side: “You’re lucky I love you two so much.“

“We love you too, amor.“, Mapi replied, kissing Ingrids right cheek while you got on your tiptoes to kiss her left.

Esmee cleared her throat, making sure you hadn’t forgotten that you had a visitor.

Blushing, Ingrid pushed the two of you away and got to work.

You grinned at Esmee: “Hope you like nuggets, Esmee.“

She nodded happily, looking a bit relieved that it wasn’t pumpkin soup: “I do.“

“Then sit down while Ingrid shows us her cooking skills.“, you joked.

Ingrid rolled her eyes next to you. Of the three of you, she was definitely the best cook so making chicken nuggets was beneath her actual cooking skills.

Still, she managed to present you with a batch of perfectly crispy nuggets, a homemade dipping sauce and a bowl of fresh salad. You were all athletes after all.

“This is…“; Esmee said between two mouthfuls of salad.

“Delicious as always.“, Mapi completed the sentence for her, gleefully biting into a nugget.

Ingrid smiled across the table, seemingly happy that you all enjoyed her food: “Thank you, girls.“

“You’re the best cook.“, you agreed with the others.

“I’ll try the pumpkin soup another time though.“, the Norwegian warned you jokingly.

“I promise we’ll try it then.“, you assured her. It was only fair that she would get her pumpkin soup.

“Appreciate it.“

The food was quickly gone, leaving the table cluttered with empty dishes.

Mapi leaned back in her chair with a yawn: “Now time for a nap.“

“Thanks for the dinner, girls.“, Esmee said after she made sure that Ingrid didn’t want any help washing dishes.

“No worries, you’re always welcome here.“, you assured the young player and pulled her into a quick hug before she left.

You smiled to yourself as you closed the door behind her, you loved providing a safe space for the young players, making sure they had everything they needed even if it was just dinner.

“Y/n, Ingrid, hurry up!”, you heard Mapi call from the living room.

Ingrid left the kitchen, rolling her eyes: “That kid has no patience.“

“You still love it.“, you laughed as the two of you entered the living room where Mapi laid sprawled out on the sofa.

“Come into my arms, my loves.“, she laughed, making space for both of you on each side.

You didn’t even think twice as you launched yourself onto the sofa: “Coming!”

“All here.“, Ingrid smiled as she took the other side of the sofa.

Mapi sighed with content, wrapping one arm around each of you: “That’s how I like it.“

“Sandwiched on the sofa? We know.“, you teased her.

Ingrid chuckled lightly, reaching over Mapi and intertwined her fingers with yours: “Me too. With my two favourite children.“

With her eyes already closed, Mapi mumbled something unintelligible, already snoozing.

You cuddled closer into her side.

There was nothing better to do on your free day.

[mapis-putellas]

𝑾𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒖𝒑

Pairing: Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x reader

Words: 1100+

Warnings: minor violence? Idk

Summary: Mapi’s a total wind up and you’re determined to get your revenge.

The night had started out innocently enough. After a long day at training, you, Ingrid, and Mapi had come home exhausted but in good spirits. There was something about your evenings together that made everything else fade away. In the privacy of your shared home, you felt safe, loved, and free to be yourself with the two women who adored you. And, of course, whom you adored in return.

Ingrid was in the kitchen, making tea, while you and Mapi had taken on the duty of putting away dishes and straightening up the space around her. Mapi, however, was being her usual playful self, only half-helping and mostly trying to get a rise out of you.

First, it was subtle. A light poke to your side when you were trying to put a glass away, her hand darting back just in time to avoid your playful swat. You glared at her, but she just grinned, her mischievous eyes sparkling with mischief.

Then she got closer, brushing her nose against your shoulder, clearly trying to distract you. "Cariño," she murmured sweetly, too sweetly, as she leaned in. Before you knew it, she had leaned over and licked the side of your face, a quick swipe of her tongue that left you gasping in surprise.

"Mapi!" you exclaimed, wiping your face with the back of your hand. "That's disgusting!"

She only cackled, utterly unrepentant, and you could tell she wasn't about to stop any time soon. She leaned in closer, her fingers playfully poking your ribs as you squirmed and laughed, caught between wanting to laugh and wanting to wring her neck (in the most loving way, of course).

"Cariñooo," she sing-songed, clearly delighted at the reaction she was getting. "You don't like my cariño?"

You narrowed your eyes, the competitive spirit in you rising. You grabbed a nearby hand towel from the sink, quickly twisting it into a makeshift weapon. With one swift motion, you snapped it at her with precision honed from years of dealing with her teasing.

The towel made a satisfying crack as it met its target, landing squarely on Mapi's backside. She let out a yelp, her eyes wide with shock and betrayal as she turned to you, clutching her rear. "¡Ay! Cariño, that hurt!" she exclaimed, a pout forming on her lips as she rubbed the spot where you'd struck.

But before you could revel in your small victory, you noticed a familiar figure in the doorway. Ingrid was standing there, arms crossed, her piercing green eyes narrowed slightly as she took in the scene. She looked at you, then at Mapi, and back at you again. Her lips were pressed together in what you knew to be her "you're in trouble" look.

"Ingrid," you started, a bit of nervous laughter slipping into your voice. "It's not what it looks like.”

Ingrid raised an eyebrow, that calm and steady demeanor making you squirm. "Not what it looks like?" she repeated, her Norwegian accent thick and unmistakably beautiful, though it carried a hint of disapproval this time. "Because it looks like you just attacked Mapi with a towel."

Mapi, ever the dramatic one, seized the opportunity to play up the moment. She sniffled, her eyes big and sad as she looked at Ingrid, pointing at you as if you'd committed an unspeakable crime. "Sí, Ingrid! She hit me, hard!" she whined, clutching at Ingrid's arm like a wounded puppy.

You rolled your eyes, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks. "She started it!" you protested, gesturing toward Mapi. "She was licking my face and poking me, so I just... reacted!"

Ingrid's expression didn't soften, though her eyes sparkled with a hint of amusement as she glanced between you and Mapi. She reached over, her hand finding Mapi's shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Mapi," she said softly, "perhaps you should stop bothering cariño if you don't want to be attacked."

Mapi pouted but nodded, the mischief in her eyes dimming slightly as she moved to stand beside Ingrid, looking only a tiny bit remorseful. "Okay, okay. Lo siento, cariño."

Ingrid, however, wasn't finished with you. She took a step closer, her gaze fixed on you with that calm authority that always made your knees weak. She reached out, brushing her fingers under your chin and tilting your head up so you had no choice but to meet her eyes.

"Cariño," she murmured, her voice soft but firm. "Next time, try to be the bigger person, hm?"

You nodded, feeling your resolve melt under her steady gaze. "Yes, Ingrid. I'll be good, I promise.”

Her lips quirked into a small smile, clearly pleased with your response. "Good girl," she murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. Her hand lingered on your shoulder, grounding you, before she finally pulled back and turned toward the kettle, which had just finished boiling.

Mapi, apparently satisfied with your promise, sidled up to you with a grin, nudging you playfully as she whispered, "You got off easy."

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't help the small smile that crept onto your face. Ingrid's soft reprimand had left you feeling warm, and despite the slight sting of embarrassment, you knew she'd done it out of love. After all, she always had a way of keeping the peace between you and Mapi, making sure your playful squabbles never went too far.

The three of you settled into the living room after that, cups of tea in hand as you curled up on the couch together. Mapi nestled against your side, her head resting on your shoulder, while Ingrid wrapped her arm around you both, her fingers tracing gentle patterns on your arm.

For a moment, the room fell into a comfortable silence, the warmth of their presence filling you with a sense of contentment you could never quite put into words. Being with them was like coming home; they were your safe place, your family, your loves.

Mapi broke the silence with a soft chuckle, her voice muffled against your shoulder. "You know, cariño, you looked really cute when you were all flustered back there."

You rolled your eyes, nudging her playfully. "Don't push it, Mapi," you warned, though the smile on your face softened the words.

Ingrid laughed softly, her hand finding yours as she squeezed it gently. "I think you both looked cute. Trouble, yes, but cute."

Your heart swelled at her words, and you couldn't help but lean into her touch, basking in the warmth of her presence. "Well, I'm lucky to have both of you," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Mapi looked up, her eyes softening as she reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. "And we're lucky to have you."

**

Tags:

@marysfics @ceesimz @goldenempyrean @codiemarin @girlgenius1111 @liloandstitchstan @xxnaiaxx

[copper-16]

Why Would She Say That?

Ingrid and Mapi’s daughter calling the Norwegian by her name for the first time

(a/n: hi guys! So a few people have been asking for a kid fic with Mapi and Ingrid, and to be honest I came up with a ton of ideas so I decided to just post little chapters as I write them instead of compiling them all into one big fic! I used the same character from an old kid fic I wrote about these two back a few months ago. I hope everyone enjoys! :)

Elena was just a little under a year old when it happened. She hadn’t properly started talking yet, had only babbled in the way that all babies did. It was one of Mapi’s favorite activities, to sit there with her and pretend that she understood what her daughter was saying. They would have whole conversations, Elena perched on her lap and just talking away at the Spaniard, who appeared to be hanging off her every word despite not understanding an ounce of what she was saying.

Ingrid, personally, found it incredibly adorable if not a little frustrating at times. She loved Elena very much, but when the little girl was upset sometimes there wasn’t much that could be conveyed through the pointing of her chubby fingers.

Which was why the Norwegian was elated when Elena began speaking, real, whole words.

She had tried not to be too discouraged by the fact that her daughter’s first word was “Mami,” the name they had very clearly picked out for Mapi to be called. Mapi was “Mami” and Ingrid was “Mama” they had decided, figuring that would be easy enough for a baby to understand while still being able to delineate between the two of them.

“Princesa, can you grab me Elena’s bag?” Mapi called out from her spot near the apartment entrance, with their daughter settled comfortably on her hip. The sandy blonde little girl eagerly pulled at her mothers hair, and Mapi winced slightly before gently pulling her chubby hand away, shaking her head at the baby despite the fact that she was smiling down at her.

But Elena just smiled back at her with delight, clapping her hands together as the brunette bounced her lightly, waiting for her wife to bring the bag they needed before leaving the house.

“Ma-ma-ma, pra-pra-pra, buh-buh-buh,” Elena puffed out softly, and Mapi nodded her head as she smoothed down the mess of sandy blonde curls atop her head.

Ingrid came around the corner with the bag in just a few seconds, smiling widely at her two girls, depositing a kiss on each of their cheeks as she passed the bag to Mapi.

“Elena, can you say bye-bye to Mama?” Mapi prompted, doubting that the baby would actually do it but still trying to get her to say the M-word, either way. But Elena just smiled up at the Norwegian without saying a peep, instead waving her hand goodbye. Ingrid allowed herself to lean into the laughter that tumbled from her mouth, tickling her daughter's belly slightly before she kissed Mapi softly in parting.

“Bye princesa,” Mapi mumbled against the Norwegian’s lips before she slipped out the door with their baby.

—

When the center back arrived back home just a few hours later, Ingrid was waiting at the door with anticipation.

“Elena!” The dark haired woman cooed in excitement, having missed the baby despite the small amount of time that had elapsed since they had last seen each other. And to her credit, her daughter was equally excited to see her, reaching for the Norwegian easily and allowing for her Mami to facilitate a quick trade off.

Ingrid covered the little girl's face in kisses before she turned her attention to her wife, who was gazing fondly at the two as they greeted one another.

“How was the doctor?” The taller woman asked, referencing the check up that Mapi had taken Elena to.

“Everything looks good. She’s in the 52th percentile for weight and the 45th for height, and everything looks healthy according to her doctor,” Mapi parroted, and Ingrid couldn’t help but nod in relief. When she had been pregnant with Elena, nobody had really warned her about the pre and post-partum anxiety she would feel. And while it had gotten better as Elena had gotten older, occasionally it still held her tightly for the most random of things, like a routine doctor's visit.

But Elena was fine, and Mapi was smiling at her brightly, and everything was okay.

After the three of them had dinner, they migrated to the living room to settle in for the night. Mapi was curled on the couch as Ingrid sat on the floor with Elena, playing with her blocks while she babbled away.

“Yes, this one is yellow,” Ingrid explained as the little girl held up a yellow block, watching as Elena dissolved into giggles and reached for another one, holding it up to her mother expectantly.

“That is purple,” Ingrid supplied easily, and instead of laughter Elena looked down at the purple block with confusion, her little brows knitted together in clear skepticism.

“Do you not like purple?” Ingrid asked, looking up at Mapi with an equally confused expression. Elena looked up at her Mama just as Mapi replied, also a little lost on what was going on.

“Mami!” Elena cried out gently as she looked back at Mapi, before looking at Ingrid again, the block still in hand.

“Maybe she just does not like that purple block, princesa,” Mapi tried, unsure of what was going on inside her daughter's little mind.

But just as Mapi finished her sentence, Elena dropped the purple block and reached for Ingrid insistently. The Norwegian easily reached for her daughter, pulling Elena into her with a gentle hug. Her daughter's little body melted into her completely, letting out a relieved little sigh.

When the dark haired woman pulled her daughter back, Elena smiled at her brightly.

“Prin-prin-prin,” Elena pushed out very insistently, as though she was trying to tell her mother something, and it was Ingrid’s turn to furrow her eyebrows, shaking her head slightly.

“Hm?” She asked the baby softly, not really expecting an answer but trying to mirror what her wife did with the little girl when they spoke.

“Princess!” Elena finally giggled out triumphantly, pointing at Ingrid with one of her chubby little baby fingers.

Mapi pitched forward with surprise from her spot on the couch as Ingrid nearly dropped her daughter from complete surprise, and for a moment both of them were completely still and silent as they looked from each other to their baby, back and forth.

“What did she just say?” Ingrid squeaked out, her voice an octave higher than it usually was. Mapi had slapped her hand over her mouth, and she was trying desperately to keep from laughing.

“María, what did she just say?” Ingrid repeated, staring at Elena with wide eyes. Her daughter was staring back at her with big eyes, confused as to why her mother was acting so strangely.

“She said princesa, I believe,” Mapi said from her spot on the couch, a smirk dancing across her lips. Ingrid looked over at her with huge eyes, more than a little shocked.

“Why would she say that! That’s not my name!” Ingrid exclaimed, but Mapi just raised a brow at her, unimpressed.

“Is it? It’s not like I haven’t been calling you that for years, princesa,” the Spaniard points out, emphasizing her last word heavily.

“Princesa!” Elena repeats happily, reaching forward to place her hand on Ingrid’s cheek as if to prove her point.

Ingrid looked from her wife back to their baby, who was staring at her with big eyes, as if she was the only thing in the whole world that mattered. She had never expected to have loved such a small human so much, and yet here she was. Completely and utterly head over heels in love with someone so tiny.

“Yes, that’s right, that’s me,” Ingrid whispers, her voice choked up as she struggles to get words out over her impending tears. The Norwegian pulls their daughter back into her, and Elena settles into her chest easily, her whole body pressed flush against Ingrid.

“You know who I am,” Ingrid murmurs into the little girl's sandy blonde hair, her words just barely audible. Tears are slipping down her cheek of their own volition, falling onto the carpet as Elena snuggles into her, and her wife finally moves from her position on the couch to join them on the floor.

She wraps her arms around Ingrid, allowing the Norwegian to press her face into her neck as she still cradles Elena close to her, the brunette bringing her hands up to gently rub at Ingrid’s back soothingly.

“She always knew who you were, you know that, right?” Mapi murmurs softly, trying to reassure the Norwegian that just because her daughter hadn’t said her name, didn’t mean that she loved the dark haired woman any less. Ingrid nodded into her neck, gathering herself for a moment before she leaned back, rocking Elena back and forth as she sniffled lightly.

She knew, but it was still something else entirely to hear her daughter say something that signified her, out loud.

Mapi reached forward to wipe the remaining tears from her cheeks, given that her wifes hands were relatively full at the moment. When Ingrid pulls Elena back slightly, the little girl seems concerned, looking up at the Norwegian with worry in her eyes. Ingrid can probably guess that she’s clocking the redness and blotchiness of her face from her crying.

“Mama?” Elena asks gently, and Ingrid feels her jaw fall open again as her face lights up, and she looks from their daughter to Mapi, who is looking back at her with excitement.

“That’s right, Mama! Mama is alright, mi sol,” Mapi reassures the little girl, but her words are twinged with excitement for her wife, and Elena giggles at them both before she reaches for the Spaniard, allowing Ingrid to safely transfer her from one parent to the other.

Mapi smothers the small girl with kisses before she looks back up at Ingrid, only to find her with more tears in her eyes.

“Are you crying again?” Mapi asks with a laugh as the Norwegian fixes her with a glare, but the intensity of it is lost as a tear rolls down her face.

“Ti stille,” Ingrid snaps, telling her wife to shut up though there is little bite to it, and the Spaniard simply chuckles in response as she bounces their daughter a few times before depositing her back to the Norwegian.

“Gosh - what a day! Ingrid…I think we might have the smartest baby ever,” Mapi decides with complete and utter seriousness, and Ingrid rolls her eyes slightly at the hyperbole, but she finds herself agreeing rather easily either way.

“I think you might be onto something there,” Ingrid decides as she cuddles her daughter close, the little girl giggling at all of the excitement as she tries to pull on some of Ingrid’s long dark hair.

“Ow, Elena!”

[levbolton]

but do you sound funny when speaking English

“do you have an accent” ? hate to break it to you but literally everyone has an accent. the established or de facto standard spoken variety of a given language if that is what you happen to speak is in fact also an accent despite how neutral or lacking a regional identity it may appear

[woso-dreamzzz]

Difficult II

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader

Summary: A look back to when you and Mumma join Barcelona

You were very little when Mapi first met you, balanced on Ingrid's hip on her first day at Barcelona.

"Who is this little cutie?" Patri coos as you look around, chewing on the cuff of your shirt as you fisted Ingrid's training top.

"This is y/n," Ingrid replies, bouncing you lightly," She's one and a half."

"She's beautiful."

Patri waves at you and you grunt, wiggling around before Ingrid puts you down. You hold onto her leg tightly, standing on your unsteady two feet, still sucking on your sleeve.

Patri offers you her finger and, for a moment, it looks like you're going to take it but Mapi watches Ingrid push it away.

"I wouldn't," She says apologetically to Patri," y/n's going through a biting phase. You can ask Frido, she drew blood back in Germany."

Patri laughs it off and says something else but Mapi doesn't hear, fully focussed on the way you toddle about the locker room. You get a greeting from Frido, who you obviously know well, and from Caro too - who clearly knows you from national camp.

A few of the other girls coo at you from a distance but you ignore them, somehow making your way over to Mapi.

It's a bit disconcerting, the way that you're staring up at her critically even though you're still practically a baby.

"Hola," She says before wincing.

You're Ingrid's baby. Ingrid who is Norwegian and just came from Germany.

Mapi wonders briefly if children get confused by different languages at your age.

But you give her a gummy smile and the universal symbol of pick me up.

You feel good against her side, comfortable, and you're not nearly as cumbersome as Mapi thought you were. You tug at her hair, curious, as she presents you to Ingrid.

"Hola, I'm Mapi."

Ingrid's looking at her and, briefly, Mapi's speechless. "Hi, I'm Ingrid."

●～●～●～●～

Mapi would admit, she's not the most maternal person in the world but there's something about you and Ingrid that keeps her close.

Alexia is also taken with you - but not quite in the way that Mapi is.

You're sitting on the play mat of yours and Ingrid's apartment as the pair entertain you.

"So..." Mapi says as she looks over at Ingrid," Does she understand Norwegian yet or was google wrong in telling me that she should already know some words?"

Ingrid laughs in delight and Mapi's stomach flutters. Ingrid clicks her tongue and says something to you that Mapi doesn't understand.

You glance over quickly and stand to wander over, abandoning Alexia who was helping you play with your toys. Ingrid leans down and lets you press a wet kiss to her cheek before sending you back to Alexia.

Mapi grins. "She's pretty smart."

Ingrid looks incredibly proud as you babble non-words at Alexia. "She is. She speaks sometimes too. Not proper sentences but she's got 'no' pretty down pat."

"Well," Mapi says as she cautiously sneaks her arm around Ingrid's shoulders," She's got the important stuff learnt already."

Ingrid laughs and Mapi feels proud of herself, at having been the one to make her laugh.

"Mumma," You call over, holding onto Alexia's shoulders as you look over at Ingrid and Mapi.

"Si," Alexia says," That is your Mumma. Your Mumma and Mapi. Can you say Mapi?"

"Ma..." The sounds is drawn out of you and you repeat it a few more times. "Ma...Ma..."

"Mapi, si," Alexia says," Maybe that is too difficult. What about Ale? Can you say Ale?"

You don't. You just sit down on her lap and go back to playing with your toys.

●～●～●～●～

Mapi finds herself spending time with you and Ingrid outside of Alexia's company too until it slowly but surely evolves into a family unit.

Ingrid's her girlfriend and you've made a home in her apartment.

Her spare room has turned into your nursery and there's plastic baby cutlery in her kitchen.

"Ma..." You say again and again, tugging on Mapi's shorts one evening as she lazes on the sofa.

Ingrid's out with Frido for the evening so you and Mapi are having a girl's night. It's hardly the first time that you've been alone together since you and Ingrid moved in so Mapi's not worried.

"Ma..." You repeat when Mapi takes too long to pick you up.

You sit on her hips as Mapi lays down, smiling up at you. You flop onto her chest and poke at her cheek. Her fingers come to run down your spine, something that almost always makes you relax.

You're a bit like Bagheera in that respect. She goes limp when she gets back scratches too.

Every so often, you'll try to grab at her fingers but your biting phase hasn't let up yet so she keeps them well away from your mouth.

"Ma..." You huff against her collarbone.

"Si, bebita?" Mapi asks.

"Mamí," You say, sucking at the collar of her shirt.

Mapi's fingers freeze on your spine as she looks at you in shock. "Wh-What?"

You look at her strangely and repeat," Mamí."

●～●～●～●～

Ingrid's stressed as she runs up the stairs, not bothering to take the elevator.

The call she got from Mapi was so tearful and almost complete gibberish. Mapi was in tears and she could just about hear you in the background so abandoning Frido was a quick decision so she could run home.

She slams open the door quickly and stops.

There's nothing wrong. There's no fire. There's no hole in the ceiling. There's no one holding either of you hostage.

There's just you and Mapi dancing in the living room as the theme tune of some Spanish kid's show that Ingrid doesn't quite understand plays from the speakers.

"Ingrid!" Mapi says, turning off the music and presenting you to her like Simba. "Listen. Say it, bebita. Go on, say it."

You give Ingrid a gummy smile before leaning your head back into Mapi's shoulder.

"Mamí," You say," Mamí. Mamí. Mamí." You keep repeating it, keep babbling the name as Mapi tickles you.

"Ingrid," Mapi says," She called me Mamí. I'm Mamí."

Ingrid laughs, wrapping an arm around Mapi's waist to pull you both closer. "Well, of course you are. What? You expected her to just call you Mapi all her life?"

"But I'm Mamí!" Mapi's still kind of in disbelief. She knew that being with Ingrid meant being somewhat of a parent to you. She just always thought that, to you, she would be nothing more than Ingrid's partner.

Just Mapi

But, no.

She's Mamí.

[therentyoupay]

How would you write Elsa falling first? I absolutely adore your loser Jack pining after put together Elsa, but how would you reverse their roles?

i promise i promise i did not mean to write a one-shot for this. and i SWEAR it is ACTUALLY a one-shot. it is the OLD-SCHOOL definition of a one-shot, because i opened this ask and thought, aw, wouldn't it be cute if i just wrote a little tiny ficlet to illustrate an example of this scenario instead? and then out came 5,297 words. in one sitting. in ONE SHOT.

i would also like the record to show that i LOVED this challenge, i love trying out new scenarios or styles that subvert all the habits i've gotten myself into over the past decade or so!! thank you for this ask!! and, also, let the record show, that even as i wrote a full 5k+ of fic leading up to a "she falls first, he falls harder" scenario, i still couldn't quite hit the mark... in this case, i think it's open to interpretation as to whether she falls first, or they fall at the same time. 🤣 ENJOY. p.s. LOSER JACK?? LMAO WHAT IS THIS

“Watch your head—“

She ducked just in time, narrowly avoiding the churning of what appeared to be a factory conveyor belt gone awry. A tiny creature smaller than even a Norwegian Mountain Troll cried out in dismay as a cascade of nutcrackers fell into a sorting bin meant for what appeared to be that latest handheld gaming device—the Swap, or something.

Elsa grinned at the chaos surrounding her—little elves scolding one another, scurrying about—and wasn’t the slightest bit embarrassed to see the Pooka—Bunnymund—grinning in delight at her delight. 

(I told you, his eyes seemed to say, as he gestured for her to continue ahead of him through the vast workshop chamber toward the office tucked away in the back. You wouldn’t regret it, if you came with me.)

Without giving him the satisfaction—yet—Elsa merely took in all the productivity around them, and let her gaze sparkle with the Wonder she knew was in them; dryly, she marveled, “It’s July.”

“Christmas doesn’t take holidays, mate,” Bunny winked. “Especially not here.”

Elsa stuck her courage to the sticking place as they approached the office—the door was slightly ajar. No matter what happens, Elsa inhaled and exhaled; you can always go back to Ahtohallan, to Antarctica.

You don’t have to stay here—with them.

Strengthened by this truth, Elsa squared her shoulders and softened her face into something curious and approachable as Bunny opened the door, not bothering to knock.

“OI.” Bunny stepped through the office, holding the door wide, which allowed Elsa to wait at the threshold—suspended between two worlds, two moments, two paths… perhaps two different lives.

“WHAT—Bunny, how many times I say, KNOCK, this program, it is DELICATE—“

“I got a delivery,” Bunny interrupted, and his whole body flinched at the look she gave him, “Er. I mean. I got someone here who you might wanna meet.”

And if Elsa had known then what she knew now, she would have realized in that moment (when North laid eyes on her that July evening in the middle of his work on the newest rollout of the popular role-playing video game—the Sums, or something) that, truly, the future was always in motion, her path already treaded, and—despite all her beliefs, her past, her heartbroken memories—her heart was already preparing to have two homes.

//

Elsa had visited plenty of warm—tropical, arid, sweltering—and chaotic, sprawling places in her travels, but none quite compared to the utter bustle of the Workshop. 

Over the next three weeks of her stay, Elsa grew accustomed to the factory’s noises, to the bickering between the elves and their strange adoration for her, to the yeti’s curious questions about her years at the south pole. They asked relentless questions about the melting ice caps, the fierce predators, and the tiny human-made stations; she answered them as best she could, having wandered Antarctica for only half a decade before Bunnymund happened to find her at the tip of Cape Adare. When she tried to explain that she was much more familiar with the Arctic, they listened politely, but they were clearly much less interested in land so close to home. They also had the strangest custom of bringing her icicles when they returned from their perimeter patrols; she was growing quite a large collection of them in the guest room in the Main House. 

The others—called Guardians, she learned—flitted in and out of this headquarters at seemingly all times of day. 

Sandy was shocked and delighted to see her again; they’d run into each other just once during the late 1940s, and only when Elsa was passing through a city—Barcelona, if Memory served—to familiarize herself with the changing of the times as quickly as possible. 

Sandy made no delay in giving her a much more insightful tour of the Workshop than North’s exuberant one had been, which had focused rather on not-so-subtle hints at how wonderful a life it was to be a Guardian, and such wonderful news it was to hear that Elsa was intrigued by Bunnymund’s offer to meet them, and so wonderful that Elsa had been spending all these years doing all that she could to explore the wonders of the world. 

(North was lovely, and welcoming, and fierce—and so boisterous!

And not subtle at all.)

After a few days of visiting the Workshop, Elsa grew comfortable enough to truly relax as she roamed its halls, visited the various stages of production, and occasionally caught up with Bunny as he flitted in and out of the Shop (“Easter is on Holiday!” he’d said, with another wink). She dined with North and his team of merry workers, often with Bunny, who, she learned, was rather too fond of eggnog, and sometimes with Sandy as well. 

After only a few hours into Sandy’s first visit, Elsa allowed herself to laugh with her whole chest at the ridiculous antics, the absurdity of it all, the bickering among Sandy, and North, and Bunny—and allowed herself to be endeared by the clear respect they held for one another, by the lightness in the air, the distinct sensation of family. That night, Elsa didn’t immediately retreat to her room after dinner, as she normally would have.

The Memories were not so painful, here. 

//

And their stories! 

They regaled her each night over (and after) dessert—about this horrid creature named Pitch Black, about the Moon, about the Battle of Burgess—they all sounded like fairytales to Elsa, even if she, herself, had practically been living in one for nearly two hundred odd years. 

The others told her of two other coalition members who fought beside them—both of whom were exceptionally busy, and who would not be journeying to the North Pole again until it was time to celebrate the Equinox.

Elsa was curious about Toothiana—and anxious, about the Memories she protected—and especially curious about the Guardian named Jack… 

Frost. 

She did not shy away from asking more about him—Elsa had far too little time to worry about such silly fears like embarrassment; immortality was funny like that—and her curiosity grew with each tale she heard. The Guardians spoke of Jack with a mix of fondness and exasperation—his mischievous nature, his loyalty, how bloody annoying he is, I tell ya, that’s what I say.

Elsa could not help but laugh at Bunny’s pervasive frustration with his teammate; his respect for Jack was clear, even if his patience was not.

Still… she had been wandering the world for over 200 years, and in all that time, she had never encountered any others like her, and certainly not anyone especially like her. 

The thought of meeting someone who might understand,  who might have powers like hers,  stirred something deep within her— something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

She caught Bunny staring at her in the midst of a reverie by the fire during an after-dinner coffee, so she crisply declared, “Don’t say it.”

“What’s that, Ice-pop? Sorry, couldn’t quite hear you over all of that Hope in your heart.”

Bunny, Elsa learned, was used to ducking snowballs.

//

Later that evening, as she stood by one of the desperately-tall windows in the corridor leading to her guest quarters—watching the snowflakes drift lazily from the sky—Elsa couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to actually meet him. 

The thought of Jack—a potential ally? a friend? a teammate?—occupied her mind more and more as the days passed, and with each story the Guardians told, Elsa found herself hoping that this Jack Frost—a teacher? a guide? a confidant?—would be looking forward to meeting her, too.

//

Sometimes, late at night, she would lie awake and wonder what it would be like to have someone in her life who understood her powers as deeply as she did. She imagined his face, always in motion, always just out of reach, and felt a strange sense of—Hope? Elsa rolled her eyes at the ceiling. Anticipation? Perhaps.

Fear?

In these quiet moments, she found her spirit reaching out, as if she could almost call to him—but of course, he was completely out of reach, never having met her before, and likely, perhaps, not even knowing that she existed until only recently... But her heart would quicken at the idea of meeting this person like her, of seeing his eyes—what color?—filled with the same understanding, the same longing for connection that she felt.

What would he think of her? Would he see the strength she had built over centuries? Or would he only see the loneliness that still clung to her, despite all her efforts to cast it aside?

The questions swirled in her mind, mingling with a strange sense of exhilaration that made her feel both alive and vulnerable.

She could almost hear the laughter they might share, the way their powers could dance together in the air, creating something beautiful, something new.

And in those moments, she couldn’t help but smile, imagining a world where she wasn’t alone, where someone else could stand beside her in the snow, not as an adversary— 

But as an equal.

//

“And did he wield ice magic as a human, as well?” Elsa pressed over after-dinner coffee in the drawing room, leaning forward in her chair near the fireplace. North’s giant hands were absurdly large compared to his delicate teacup. “Before he became a Guardian?”

“As a matter of fact—no. The power came later, AFTER Turning.”

Elsa considered his words carefully. Something about his expression seemed rather cagey; centuries of reading strangers’ faces had only honed her political prowess, which had been born out of survival as much as any sense of duty. 

“North, tell me: why do you want me to join the Guardians?” 

“I—ah! ELSA—

“Because ya’d be mighty good at it!” Bunny blurted, calling over from his newspaper reading on the other side of the drawing room, to North’s indignant sputtering, “if you wisened up and stopped hiding all Hope and Wonder!” And then, as an afterthought, “And it’ll keep Jack humble, I reckon!”

“ASTER!” North scolded fiercely, but he set the tiniest teacup down with the tiniest clink and placed the saucer on the coffee table with such deliberate care, even in his fit of anger, that Elsa couldn’t hold back a small, genuine smile. 

//

“Dont’cha worry, Ice-Pop,” Bunny told her later, as they stood in the wide, cold corridor leading into the main entry chamber of the Workshop, where Bunny preferred to open his portals. Elsa quirked a brow at him, and he chuckled. “We’re not here to actually convince ya. We just want you to see that there’s another option. This Choice… well. Guardians gotta make it for themselves.”

She still had too many questions. How is it that I had never crossed paths with any of you but Sandy, before? 

How is it that I have managed to avoid Pitch for all these years? 

Why me? What can I really offer—when you already have someone who can already do what I do?

“You still have time before you have to decide. And you need to meet the rest, anyway. Just think about it, is all,” he said, all his wisdom seeping into the very air around them. He cracked open a portal and, a moment later, he was gone. 

//

“Oh!” said an utterly beautiful creature, her wings fluttering with so much excitement and delight that she was practically vibrating. “You must be Elsa!”

Elsa and Toothiana took to one another with surprising ease; time had steadied Elsa’s heart, had taught her the patience and endurance and the strength of a glacier; time had energized Toothiana, who took charge of the world with her vast army and a wide smile. But it had been so long since Elsa had even felt anything remotely similar to the feel of holding onto her sister—and Toothiana understood, completely. 

Toothiana shared stories of her own—a whirlwind of adventures collecting memories and moments, each one a treasure she held dear.

(Toothiana's eyes softened as she took Elsa's hands in her own, her understanding gentle yet firm. "I know what it’s like to carry the weight of Memories, Elsa," Toothiana whispered, her voice a comforting balm. "But here, with us, you don’t have to carry them alone. We’re all in this together, and we’ll help you find your way.”)

And Elsa found herself starting to believe her. 

To Believe in them.

//

When the Guardians gathered around the fire—taking time, they said, to ensure that past mistakes were never repeated, that they carved out time for themselves the way they never used to—the conversation inevitably turned to their adventures, to answering Elsa's questions. Somehow, Jack always seemed to be at the center of their tales.

She was rather alarmed to realize the extent to which she had begun to wait for these moments, eager to hear more about Jack, piecing together an image of him in her mind that was as elusive as snowflakes on the wind. Why on earth does not a single Guardian commission a portrait, for goodness’ sake? But Elsa dared not ask for a Memory; apparently, there were still some things left worth being too embarrassed to ask for, after all.

So she contented herself with the way Sandy would add details to the story that the others had forgotten, conjuring up glowing scenes of Jack’s playful antics in vague, golden sand—flurries of snowflakes, intricate frost patterns on windows, and the gleeful laughter of children echoing through the air. 

She would find all their efforts rather suspicious… if they weren’t all being so utterly obvious about their Hopes.

Thus, one evening, as they were all gathered around the fire, Elsa couldn’t help but ask, “How did Jack become a Guardian?”

Bunny’s keen eye sharpened upon her cheek; she withstood the scrutiny, allowing him no further entry to her mind, as he added, “Jack was chosen by the Moon, like the rest of us.” 

“But Jack…” Toothiana’s voice was soft and somber and unusually serious; the atmosphere in the room shifted, its axis tilting ever so slightly. “He had a harder time accepting it. At first! That is.”

“Took him a while to figure out, is all,” Bunny held his boomerang up to the light, checking the polish. “He came around, eventually.”

“Why?” Elsa asked, genuinely curious.

Sandy floated closer, his golden sand forming an image of a young boy standing alone in the snow, his face a mixture of confusion and sorrow. The image flickered, and the boy’s expression shifted to one of determination and hope.

“Not easy for Jack, his Turning was,” North said, his voice softening. “Not easy for any of us… But Jack had no Memories of his past, no knowledge why he was Chosen. It wasn’t until centuries after his Turning that he found his center.”

“His center?” Elsa echoed, intrigued.

“FUN!” North boomed, smiling, and sending teacups clattering everywhere. Elsa clutched her saucer with both hands. “But not just ANY fun—bringing joy and wonder to children, making them BELIEVE in magic and in themselves. THAT is Jack’s true power!”

Elsa considered this as Bunny complained about dropping his boomerang polish and spilling it all over the carpet. Toothiana was laughing at him and offering to help in equal turns, as Elsa’s mind turned over the implications of centers—and Jack’s in particular. She had spent so long searching for her own purpose, her own… center? Do I have one? As well? Is that why Bunny had found her, out alone at the edge of the iceberg, at the exact moment when she had let it all go, had accepted that she may never find her purpose, that perhaps she did not have one—was that the moment that they had been waiting for?

And now, here in this team, Elsa might soon meet someone who had also once struggled with the same questions, who had found his answers in the most unexpected ways… It makes me, dare I say it… Wonder... 

She glanced at the Guardians, each of them so sure of their place, their role in the world, with all their quirks and their trust and their happiness. They had found their centers, their reasons for being. And Jack—this mysterious figure who was off wreaking havoc in some apparently historic winter season in New England—had somehow found the same. She wanted to know more about this spirit who had lived in solitude for so long, who had found a family among these remarkable beings, and who wielded the same icy power she did, yet in a way so different from her own—or, at least, so they thought. Nobody could quite seem to explain to her the exact mechanics of it all.

The more she heard about him, the more she felt a growing need to meet him. She caught herself imagining what their first meeting might be like—whether he would be as mischievous as they said, or if they would take a liking to one another right away, bonded by their similar powers, their similar stories… Perhaps he might help her make sense of… all this? Maybe there was something in him that could help her understand herself better. Maybe he could be… another friend? An ally. A partner. Elsa did not care about the name; what mattered was only that they could learn from each other. 

But still. She could not quite deny that her excitement at the chance of meeting him was, perhaps, a bit more complicated than all that. 

“I still don't understand. You already have someone whose powers are like mine,” Elsa pointed out reasonably, just when the others had started to turn the conversation to simpler matters. “How could I possibly contribute?”

Bunny barked with laughter from the other side of the circle, over the recipe book he was now reading, preparing for their grand dinner to celebrate the Autumnal Equinox. Sandy giggled in golden, sparkling shimmers. North’s laughter was as reassuring as it was alarming.

“ELSIE, my dear,” North boomed as he strode closer to the wing-backed chairs that Toothiana and Elsa were hoarding by the fire, just under the wide window of the central tower, which overlooked the northern tundra. “It is not about powers alone! It is CENTERS.”

“And besides!” Bunny called out over his recipe book, adjusting his reading glasses over the bridge of his twitching nose. She could feel his cheekiness from the other side of the room, but Elsa was particularly amused by the way Toothiana’s whole body tensed up in preparation for Bunny’s antics.  “You’re the better deal on both fronts, anyway!” 

Toothiana scolded him for the next five minutes but hardly put any real fire into it, and North’s voice echoed throughout the study (“Now, now, Bunny—Jack has only been with us for two years now—and he has done SPLENDID job—“), and Sandy had already fallen asleep in his preferred winged-back chair by the fire, lulled into a nap by the comforting sound of his fellow Guardians arguing over something utterly ridiculous.

//

Late that night, as Toothiana hastily prepared for departure and her return to her endless work, she caught Elsa by surprise. 

“We’ll understand if you would rather return,” Toothiana was gracious, so considerate in her efforts to not step on painful Memories, to not push Elsa too hard or too fast, too soon. “We recognize that this choice, this Oath, is not for everyone. But we hope you’ll consider it.”

Elsa nodded, appreciating the understanding in Tooth's eyes, though she couldn’t quite find the words to express it. The kindness and patience offered—by all of them—made her feel both comforted and conflicted; this was a choice she had to make for herself, but knowing she wouldn’t be judged either way brought a small measure of peace. 

Toothiana let out a knowing smile that Elsa didn’t quite understand. 

//

Two days before the Autumnal Equinox, the North Pole was strangely quiet; all others were out and about and attending to their centers, preparing their final tasks before they would all meet for the celebration, here in North’s home. 

She thus found herself wandering the hallways alone, her footsteps echoing softly against the stone floor, thinking of the word home, and how it had changed for her over the years—first, her kingdom; then, her sister; then, the secrets that lay in the depths of Ahtohallan, and then nowhere at all.

What was home?

She paused in front of a large, intricately carved door she hadn’t noticed before. There was something inviting about it, something that called to her curiosity. Without thinking, she reached out and pushed it open, stepping into a room bathed in a soft, ethereal glow.

The room was a gallery of sorts, filled with shelves upon shelves of intricate snow globes, each one containing a different scene—some of them cheerful, others serene, and a few that looked like they were mid-snowstorm. Elsa moved closer, her breath catching as she realized what she was seeing. Each snow globe was a memory—not one of Toothiana’s collections of course, but rather, a moving picture—a small clip of some film, captured in glass and suspended in time.

She reached out to touch one that was particularly beautiful—a snow globe depicting a small village blanketed in fresh snow, children playing and laughing as they built snowmen and threw snowballs. The scene was so vivid, so real, that she could almost hear their laughter.

“Beautiful, no?” a voice said softly from behind her.

Elsa turned to see North standing in the doorway, a fond smile on his face as he watched her.

“They’re not Memories,” Elsa whispered, more to herself than to him. “They’re… Reminders.”

“Yes. They help with the Wonder, of course.”

Elsa couldn’t move her gaze away from the glass again. “Whose are they?”

North stepped into the room, his presence filling the space with genuine warmth, with joy. “They belong to all of us. The children, the Guardians… and a few others.”

He gestured to a shelf on the far wall, where a single snow globe sat, slightly larger than the others. It depicted a lone figure standing in the middle of a frozen lake, surrounded by a dense forest. Snowflakes danced around him, but there was a sadness to the scene, a loneliness that tugged at Elsa’s heart. Her fingers itched to reach out and touch the glass.

“That one,” North said softly, “also belongs to Jack.”

Elsa’s breath caught. She had heard so much about him, yet she still knew so little. The thought of him, alone in this beautiful but desolate scene, stirred something deep within her.

Are you someone out there  who's a little bit like me?

Who knows deep down  I'm not where I'm meant to be?

“Yes, he’s been through much,” North continued, his voice gentle, washing over Elsa’s rapidly-blinking thoughts, through the strange swell of sadness that swam through her chest. “But he IS strong, and has found his place among us. Still, there are parts of him that are… sometimes, difficult to reach. Things that… perhaps… someone may help… heal?”

Elsa side-eyed him, beneath her lashes. “You are growing less subtle each day, I fear.”

His boisterous laugh told her he wasn’t deterred in the slightest.

“Elsa, when few more centuries you have, you too shall learn when to drop SUBTLETY. No?”

Haven’t I already? But she humored him with a smile instead. 

“Whatever you decide—we will support you, your Majesty.”

Elsa’s smile slipped, without her meaning to. Throat thick, she whispered, “No one has called me by that title for a very long time.”

Her eyes pricked with tears as North stepped closer to her, looking down at her—the way her father used to. The way her father might have, had he lived long enough to see her step into her own power, at last.

“I do not call you Majesty because you were Queen, or Snow Queen; I say because I remind you that what you have, and what you are, at your center, is FULL of that which makes living so majestic. It is my sincere wish that—“ and Elsa inhaled at the strange expression that passed his face, the soft mix of hope and resignation all at once— “You will choose the Oath with your full heart.”

Elsa wanted to thank him, but she didn’t want to lie; before she could settle on the perfect breath of diplomacy, North patted her shoulder in reassurance, and left the gallery, leaving Elsa with all the Reminders that were not hers, but insisted she be strong, anyway. 

She gazed into the large snow globe, at the figure standing alone on the frozen lake in the deep forest, and Wondered, truly, for the first time, This was also my past… 

Will I also find my future here, too?

//

The Equinox arrived, at last. Elsa had fashioned herself a dress for the occasion, and the excitement buzzing through the Workshop was palpable—everywhere she turned, there were smiles and knowing glances exchanged between the elves and the yetis, as if they all shared a secret that she was just on the cusp of understanding, but not quite privy to.

Elsa did not startle at Bunny’s sudden entrance behind her, but it was a near thing. 

“Stop twitching,” Bunny muttered as he sidled up beside her, at the window, where she was watching the horizon and waiting for the other Guardians to arrive. When she glanced up at him, she found his nose twitching in nervous anticipation. “Don’t overthink it, Ice-pop. Jack’s a handful, but he’s got a good heart.”

“Oh? No further jabs at your friendly foe?”

“Nah,” Bunny grinned. “Today, I’m on my best behavior. Scout’s honor.”

“You mean ‘Toothy’s honor’.”

“Aye, that too.”

She considered pointing out that his nose was equally twitchy, but she let it slide. 

Elsa understood.

And that understanding grew as some of the Guardians started to all trickle in at once; Toothiana sent wide glances about and around the room upon her arrival, and later, as she fussed with the elves’ itineraries, kept catching Bunny’s eye when they thought Elsa was not looking; Sandy checked his watch repeatedly after greeting them all with warm, sandy hugs; perhaps he was conscientious of the time… and yet… North’s laughter was too loud to be completely genuine. Elsa was beginning to understand the true purpose of tonight, swiftly and deeply; this night was no mere dinner, and no simple introduction. Tonight was an audition. An interview.

A trial. 

At this point, Elsa didn’t even mind the inquisition; she just wanted it to start.

//

The storm outside had been raging for over an hour, and yet there was still no sign of Jack. The wind howled, whipping snow into frenzied swirls that danced and spun against the windows of North’s Workshop. The Guardians stood by the large bay window, watching the tempest with a mixture of awe and concern. Elsa had seen far fiercer storms before… but seeing this storm here, now…? 

Elsa didn’t know what to think.

“Where do you suppose he is?” Toothiana murmured, her wings fluttering nervously as she peered out at the swirling snow. “When I got off the globe with him a few hours ago, he’d been in a good mood! Do you think he got distracted along the way?”

Sandy nodded, his golden sand forming an image of a snowflake, delicate and intricate, before it dispersed into the air. North stroked his beard thoughtfully, his gaze never leaving the storm.

“Such a nuisance,” Bunny agreed, his ears twitching as he squinted into the whiteout. “But he’ll wear himself out soon enough. Let’s get started, shall we?”

“Perhaps we might,” North rumbled, his voice filled with a deep, resonant certainty. “Jack may wish to make GRAND entrance—”

Elsa stood slightly apart from the others while they discussed, her eyes fixed on the tempest outside. The storm’s power called to something deep within her, something she recognized and understood. She had created countless storms like this, back in her darker days, when her emotions had been a force she couldn’t control. Here, she’d wanted to be a good guest, so it had been a month since she’d truly put her powers to proper use, out in the relative safety of the deep Antarctic deserts. But this… 

There was a wildness to it, a reckless abandon. This storm wasn’t about emotion. It was—it’s— 

He’s playing!

Just as the words passed through her mind, a voice suddenly piped up behind them, casual and completely out of place in the loud, bustling, tense atmosphere. 

“What are y’all looking at?”

The Guardians turned as one, startled by the unexpected intrusion. There, leaning against a large shepherd’s crook, was someone who could be none other than Jack Frost—his expression one of casual amusement as he took in the scene before him. He had somehow appeared without a sound.

The room, which had been brimming with anticipation, fell into a moment of stunned silence, then burst back into noise and life in the very next breath.

Elsa blinked, her heart still racing from the intensity of the storm and the weight of her expectations. But now, seeing Jack standing there, looking so nonchalant and distant, she didn’t know whether to laugh or feel disappointed. He was lean, with his staff slung over his shoulder, and there was an air of mischief about him, tempered by something darker, something cautious.

North was the first to fully recover, letting out a booming laugh that overpowered the other surprised voices in the room. “Jack, you never fail to surprise us! We were just admiring your WORK outside, no?”

Jack grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “Oh, that? Yeah, just setting the mood.”

Bunny rolled his eyes, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’re a menace, Frostbite. You know that?”

Jack shrugged, his grin widening. “Just doing my job.”

Elsa felt a strange mix of emotions as she watched the easy banter between Jack and the other Guardians. She realized, perhaps too late, that she had built up this moment in her mind, imagining a dramatic, powerful entrance that would define their first meeting. Instead, she was faced with the reality of Jack Frost: a mischievous, irreverent spirit who seemed to take very little seriously, including the storm he had unleashed.

It was at that moment—in her quiet evaluation, her unexplained disappointment, her curious, lingering hope—that Jack caught her gaze. 

Blue.

The playful expression slipped away, just for a flash; his blue eyes met hers, and she saw something there amidst the lingering laughter—something raw and guarded, something that told her that, like her, he was grappling with his own mixed expectations. 

For a fleeting moment, Elsa’s breath caught in her throat, not just from the intensity of his gaze, but from the unexpected warmth that spread through her, as if she’d been touched by a sudden gust of spring wind.

“Jack, Jack, my boy, come—meet Elsa! Our dear Elsa—this is Jack, our newest Guardian.”

Elsa’s heart leapt into her throat. The room seemed to hold its breath as Jack hesitated—and then he stepped forward, approaching them at the window; Elsa stood patiently at Bunny’s side, watching Jack’s tousled white hair catch the light of the whiteout outside, watching as his blue eyes deliberately scanned the decorations around the room. 

Jack Frost… ?

Elsa waited, patient as a glacier as Jack’s smirking gaze flickered over the gathered Guardians as he reached them, and he saluted North with a deliberately careless air. His smirking gaze lingered on each of them before finally landing on hers. 

“Yeah, I’ve heard a lot about you,” he replied. His tone was not unkind, but deliberately casual. “New Guardian, right? They’ve been talking about you non-stop.”

There was a hint of something sharp in his voice, and Elsa felt a pang of anxiety, which she pushed down; Bunny was covering his muttering face with his hand, and Toothiana was rolling her eyes to the ceiling in dismay—or perhaps prayer. Elsa quickly assessed the crisp stare and the hard line of his jaw; she’d been hoping for warmth, for understanding, but what she found in Jack’s gaze was something closer to suspicion.

Keeping her gaze on his, trying to ease the tension she could feel coiling between them, she softly corrected, “I’m not a Guardian.”

At least, not yet… 

Or so I… 

Elsa felt her chin raise; old habits falling back into place; perfect and pretty and polite, all smooth ice underneath; an effective mask for a Queen.

“I’m here on an invitation,” she said softly, and knew that he would not see the ice daggers in her eyes; not yet, although she was certain he was looking for them. “I’m very grateful to North and all of you for hosting me in honor of this autumnal celebration.”

His eyes narrowed slightly.

That is suspicion there, isn’t it? And guardedness… He was trying hard to hide something behind a facade of coolness—some debonair indifference. Elsa recognized the act immediately but played along because there was something else there, too, something that made her heart ache with a familiar loneliness. I’m an ally, she tried to impress upon him through nothing more than the thought. Enough of this!

I could be a friend! 

But then, Toothiana swooped in, her wings fluttering with a cheerful energy that instantly distracted them—if not immediately lifting the mood.

“Well! Isn’t this just the perfect way to spend the Equinox?” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together, drawing their attention away from one another; Elsa was grateful for Toothiana’s quick thinking, her impressive tact. “Jack, I’m sure you’re energized and starving for a glass of eggnog after all that storm-making. Let’s not waste any more time!”

“Uh, did Bunny make it?” 

“What’s it to ya, you little twerp?” Bunny shot back, narrowing his eyes with mock suspicion.

Jack grinned, the tension easing slightly as he fell into what must have been familiar banter. “Just making sure it’s safe, is all. Wouldn’t want our guest of honor to get sick on her first night here.”

“Actually, she’s been here for over a month now—“

Elsa watched the exchange (Jack was rolling his eyes) with a mixture of amusement and relief and… unease. (Toothiana’s interruption had indeed worked wonders, shifting the focus away from the awkwardness of their initial encounter and giving everyone, including herself, a chance to breathe.)

(And yet… the warmth of the room contrasted sharply with the chill still clinging to her thoughts.)

As they all moved toward the dining room, Elsa fell in step beside Toothiana, grateful for the other Guardians’ subtle (for once!) alliance and support. She marveled at how, even two centuries since her last political summit, Elsa still remembered every step of walking into a political negotiation; Elsa knew how to navigate delicate situations, how to read the subtlest shifts in tone, how to win.

Elsa had always been a fine Reader of the Room; centuries of invisibility had only strengthened her skills. 

And so the Trial begins…

This first impression was a test—one she intended to pass.

//

And although Jack started to relax once they were all seated and well into the evening—his guarded expression giving way to something more genuine as he bantered with Bunny and teased North about his over-the-top decorations—the knots in Elsa’s stomach remained. 

How could she make him see that she wasn’t here to replace him—but to find her own place among them?

The Guardians fell into their usual rhythm as they ate and laughed together, the conversation flowing (mostly) easily between them. Elsa, too, had found her own rhythm with the Guardians during her month-long stay, understanding certain inside jokes and the fascinating nuances of their personalities. But even as she joined in their laughter, the tension between her and Jack was palpable, thicker than the winter storm raging outside.

She observed how Jack's eyes flicked between her and the other Guardians, his smile not quite reaching his eyes as he noted instances of the easy familiarity she had developed with them over the previous weeks. He joked along with everyone else, but there was a sharpness to his tone, occasionally—and it seemed that all the other Guardians could clearly tell, even if they were choosing to ignore it with varying degrees of patience… and understanding. 

Elsa could feel him measuring every word she said, every laugh she shared with the others. It wasn’t just that she was new or unfamiliar—it was that she had quickly become a part of something that Jack had spent years, perhaps centuries, building with them.

All of the Guardians’ assurances and encouragement over the past month had not hinted at the true nature of their concern; Elsa realized quite quickly that this rift wasn’t something that could be resolved with pleasantries or polite conversation.   

Winning his trust wouldn’t come easily—it would demand more than just time; it would require something deeper.

//

Later that night, after everyone had retired to their quarters or gone out for their evenings of work, Elsa found herself wandering the halls of North’s Workshop, her mind a whirl of thoughts and emotions, as was her wont.

The evening had not exactly gone to plan, but she supposed it could have been worse. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Jack still viewed her as a threat. It bothered her more than she cared to admit. She’d need to discuss it with Toothiana tomorrow. Perhaps they might lend me a snow globe?

As she rounded a corner, headed toward the snow globe Reminder gallery, she nearly collided with Jack himself—who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. He was leaning casually against the wall, his staff resting on his shoulder, but there was a tension in his posture that belied his relaxed demeanor. 

He’d been waiting for her.

“Jack,” she said, startled but keeping her voice steady; once more, familiar, old-fashioned patterns of politeness resurfaced in her moment of uncertainty. “I beg your pardon. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

He didn’t respond immediately, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied her. “Could say the same about you. Can’t sleep?”

Elsa hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. “Just... thinking. It’s been a lot to take in.”

Jack nodded, though he didn’t seem entirely convinced. He pushed himself off the wall and took a step closer, his expression unreadable. “You know, everyone seems pretty excited about you joining us. North, Bunny, even Tooth—they all think you’d be a great addition.”

She could hear the ‘but’ hanging in the air, unspoken but heavy between them; the way addition sounded like replacement. 

Elsa squared her shoulders, meeting his gaze head-on. There was an intensity in his eyes, a challenge that sent a shiver down her spine, though she quickly attributed it to the cold. “Jack, I’m not here to replace you.”

The words hung in the air, sharp and clear. For a moment, Jack’s expression flickered, something vulnerable and upset flashing in his eyes before he quickly masked it with a smirk. “Who said anything about that?”

“No one—listen to me, I know you’re worried,” Elsa continued, refusing to let him deflect. “But you have no need to be. I’m not here to take your place. I’m here because…” Why am I here? “I was invited. I am simply getting to know you all better. I’ve been alone for some time.”

“Spare me the politicking,” Jack huffed, which, indeed, Elsa did take offense to. Especially since she genuinely had not been trying to be diplomatic; just careful.

Perhaps he didn’t believe her story… about being alone?

The idea was more painful than she expected.

Elsa’s eyes narrowed slightly, holding Jack’s gaze.  “I’m not here to play games, Jack. I’m just looking for where I might belong—that is all.”

“Will you take the Oath, then? What’s your center?”

Elsa couldn’t explain it, but this struck her as an absurdly personal question. Still. She could recognize a caged animal when she saw one. So, Elsa took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his question press down on her. The idea of the Oath, of finding her center, had been something she had pondered endlessly since she’d learned of its existence—perhaps since her arrival, if she was being honest. But to be confronted with it so directly by Jack, someone who still seemed to see her as a rival, made it all the more daunting.

“I’m not sure,” she finally admitted, her voice quiet but steady. “I’ve been... trying to understand what it would mean for me to take the Oath, to become a Guardian.” She willed him to understand, at last. “It’s not something I want to rush into without being certain.”

Jack’s gaze remained fixed on her, his blue eyes sharp, but there was a flicker of something softer there—a recognition, perhaps, of the honesty in her words. “And your center?” he pressed. “Do you even know what it is yet?”

Elsa hesitated again, her thoughts swirling. A long time ago, she had known who she was, what she was meant to do. She’d thought so. 

But after everything she had been through, all the loss, the isolation, and the rediscovery, she wasn’t sure if her center was what it once had been.

“Perhaps I might have, once,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. “But now... Regardless of whether or not I join you, I’d like to think that there is something at the core of why I am still here.”

“In the Workshop?”

“No, I mean… I mean here.”

Jack tilted his head, studying her with a mix of curiosity and caution. Something told her that she finally got through to him, just a little. Elsa felt herself feeling sympathy for him; even after becoming a Guardian, he was still filled with such… 

Fear. 

Doubt. 

He didn’t respond immediately, his expression unreadable. For a brief, startling moment, she wondered what it would be like to stand by his side, to take the Oath together—as allies, as... something more? 

She brushed the thought aside, but the idea lingered, persistent. 

Then, finally, he let out a small, almost reluctant sigh. “It’s not easy, you know. Being a Guardian. Finding your center. It’s... it’s not something you just, like, stumble upon.”

“I understand,” Elsa said, her tone sincere. “But if there’s a chance that this is where I’m meant to be—then I’m willing to take that risk. I’m not interested in taking that away from you. You—you haven’t even seen what I can do yet! We don’t even know how much overlap we’d find in our powers, anyway!”

“You impressed Bunny in Antartica,” he practically accused. “That’s enough to say something, isn’t it?”

Elsa was trying her very best to remain steady and calm. “And what about you? What did it take for you to find your center?”

His eyes snapped back to hers, and for a moment, she saw something raw and unguarded in his gaze. “So they didn’t tell you everything, huh?”

She gaped at him. Honestly! 

Elsa took a deep breath, steadying herself as she met Jack's gaze. "Jack, you’re being ridiculous. I’m not here to steal anything from you—certainly not your place among the Guardians. I haven’t even decided if—I don’t know if—“

“I already know you’re gonna join us,” he said, almost in a whisper, as if admitting something he hadn’t wanted to face.

“Oh?” Elsa raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious. “And what makes you so sure?”

Jack hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching hers, and then, with a passion she hadn’t expected, he replied, “Because there’s nothing better. There’s nothing like it. It’s everything.”

Elsa was stunned by the raw intensity of his words, the conviction in his voice. She could see it in his eyes—this was more than just a responsibility, more than just a role for him. It was his purpose, his identity—his life, or whatever this agelessness was. For a moment, the air between them seemed to crackle with something unspoken, a deep understanding that went beyond words.

She felt her heart skip a beat, a strange mixture of emotions swirling within her—curiosity, admiration, and something else, something unfamiliar. Her pulse quickened. 

Jack seemed to realize the weight of his words, and he quickly looked away, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Wait. I... I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting,” he said, his voice softer now, more hesitant. “I guess I’ve been... on edge, and I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair.”

Still shocked by how deeply his declaration affected her, how his passion stirred something within her that she hadn’t felt in a long time, Elsa softened at his apology, nodding slightly. “I… understand. And I accept your apology. I appreciate… you saying that. I’m sure it wasn’t easy to come home and see someone new in the middle of it all.”

Elsa thought she heard him laugh under his breath, mouthing the word Home—

Jack nodded, his shoulders relaxing just a bit. “Yeah... it is. Anyway.  I’m tired. I think I’m gonna call it a night.”

Elsa watched him start to turn away, a sudden sense of urgency bubbling up inside her. “Jack, wait—”

He paused, glancing back at her, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. They were so wide, when they weren’t glaring! 

“Shouldn’t we start over?” she asked, her voice gentler, almost tentative in her rush. She extended her hand toward him. “My name is Elsa. I happen to wield ice magic. E. Aster Bunnymund found me on an iceberg a few weeks ago as I was in the middle of creating a particularly notable blizzard, and he invited me to meet his friends, whom he loves and respects very much.”

Jack looked at her hand, then back at her face, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. Slowly, a smirk crawled over his face. 

“Alright, I’ll bite,” Jack floated closer, and Elsa held steady—stories or no stories, she had not been prepared to see him fly! “I’m Jack. I also happen to ‘wield’ ice and frost magic. Bunny did not find me on an iceberg, but I’m pretty sure he’d love to stick me in one. Nice to meet you, Elsa, who promises not to steal my spot on the A-team. Welcome to the madness,” and he reached out and took her hand in his, giving it a firm shake. 

The moment their hands touched, a strange, electric current seemed to pass between them, and Elsa felt her breath hitch in her throat.

Oh—

He’s—he’s rather handsome, she realized with a start.

They held each other’s gaze for a moment longer than necessary, the air between them thick with something she could not, would not name. 

Jack was the first to break the silence, his voice a little rougher than before. “Yeah... maybe we should—”

They let go of each other’s hands, but the sensation of his touch lingered, warm and unsettling. Elsa felt a flush creep up her cheeks, unsure of what to make of the emotions swirling inside her.

“Uh—goodnight, Elsa."

“Goodnight, Jack,” she replied, her voice steadier than she felt.

And with that, he turned and disappeared back into the shadows of the corridor, leaving Elsa standing alone in the soft glow of the snow globe gallery. She watched him go, a mix of hope and uncertainty swirling in her chest. The conversation had been difficult, but it had also been a step forward—a tentative, fragile step toward something more. Right?

As she turned back to her quarters, Elsa found herself tracing the line of his smirk in her mind, the curve of his jaw, the sharpness of his eyes—after weeks of wondering about what he might look like, might be like, she finally had the vision, the Memory of his face.

She rushed with the ornate door handle of her guest room, eager to be inside her room, alone, in the peace and quiet, and finally process the events of the evening, to reflect on all that she'd learned, she'd accomplished, she'd proved.

Exhausted by the sheer weight of so many careful decisions in so short a time, Elsa closed the door behind her with a deep sigh. Exhausted, yes, but also satisfied. She shut her eyes as she leaned against the back of the door and allowed herself a small, tentatively victorious grin, content in the knowledge that when she drifted off to sleep that night, the echoes of their meeting, their tentative truce would fill her mind; this moment gave her, indeed, a sense of Hope that she hadn’t felt in years...

But, in her mind, the Memory that lingered most vividly, as she tossed and turned—was his face. 

//

ao3 ✨

[hephaestiions]

author reclist: wolfpants

over the last few months, i've been devouring @wolfpants' works. ever since reading pages of you in two days, their rendering of harry, draco and a vast array of incredibly compelling side characters have irrevocably hooked me.

wolf is an author in enthralling motion. their fics often feature places, temporalities and contexts far removed from where canon holds & leaves us, while simultaneously being tenderly familiar, like coming home. wolf's sense of & grasp over setting leaves me breathless and dumbstruck. their different spatialities inform & infuse character in admirable ways, at various levels of craft, enjoyment and inspiration. this fandom knows and loves the draco and harry they give us, but we delight in discovering new dimensions & aspects of these characters. it's always done brilliantly believably, especially in the framework of the worlds they construct— a breath of fresh air in a forest where the trees still know your name.

wolf's works also demonstrate, sometimes explicitly, sometimes implicitly, a really significant political sensibility. most of their fics are set against backdrops tight with political tension bleeding into the characters' circumstances and interpersonal dynamics. whether through a spectrality haunting the narrative or the crucial central diegetic thread, wolf's works are layered, interrogating and collapsing delineations among private, public and political, between history and contemporaneity and between narrative and commentary.

in the interests of length & theme of this list, i've specifically selected some fics that, for me, showcase wolf's mastery & playfulness with setting, understood as deviations in place, time and universe. the broader recommendation is, of course, to check out everything wolf has ever written!

nightcall (E, 1k) ft. a long distance phone call

On a top secret Unspeakable misson, Harry calls Draco from a remote phone booth on the Isle of Skye.

a stunning portrait of desire, longing and familiarity that uses distance as a device to intensify every element. it's unbelievable how much character & context 1k words of (mostly) smut can pack in. the slivers of backstory demand your investment, inform the dynamic in crucial ways and set up some delicious stakes and tension. and some absolutely fantastic dirty talk. see also: @getawayfox's gorgeous art for this fic!

long haul (E, 8.6k) ft. plane rides, mile high club, nyc

The last person Harry expects to run into on a long haul flight to New York City is Draco Malfoy.

the way wolf writes movement— between places, between people— strokes its way up your spine, warms you, walks with you. draco and harry, buoyed in the air, let preconceived notions fall away, to be replaced by startlingly rapid and exquisite intimacy. the liminal settings, specifically, allow mature, open-minded, desirous characterisation & some of the most glorious, soft, tender sex to fall into like a warm bed.

look for me in the sun (M, 8.7k) ft. americana, roadtrip/on-the-run vibes

Harry and Draco are on the run in America after a mysterious string of werewolf-like attacks in the Muggle community causes the Ministry to impose new and harsh anti-werewolf legislation.

atmospheric writing dialled up to eleven, like the smell of ozone in the air before a thunderstorm. the sense of limbo— transience, out of place and time, the complication of home— that afflicts the circumstances of draco & harry here is heart-wrenching. a taut rumination on otherness in a variety of ways, rendered through some of the most tense and subtle writing i've encountered.

under giant mountains (E, 33.7k) ft. norwegian dragon reserves & rampant escapist tendencies

Harry doesn't know where he's going. Everyone else has their life paths figured out; he doesn't even know where his map is. Who'd have thought Draco Malfoy bathing in a Norwegian forest would be the guidepost Harry needed?

opens with harry, stuck in the same place for far too long, and draco, avoiding fixity like the plague. this fic looks at both stagnation and escapism as iterations of each other & treats them with the gentlest empathy. the norwegian dragon reserve setting, whose visuality wolf's writing captures beautifully, becomes the canvas to explore both. desire, here, was simultaneously so evident from the outset and took its time to build— longing tinged every interaction & payoff, in the form of a sequence of some of the most emotionally fraught sex scenes i've ever read, was that much sweeter.

romp and circumstance (E, 35k) ft. a historical au set in the 1800s, regency era england

Since the war, Harry Potter has gone from Saviour to Scoundrel—not that he’s complaining. With a schedule full of gorgeous men, alcohol, and late nights, why would he want to change? Enter Draco Malfoy: beautiful, sharp, and completely untouchable. When Draco comes to Harry with a proposition to help him attract an engagement, Harry’s up for it—after all, how hard can it be not falling for his former nemesis? Very hard, apparently.

the very first wolf fic i read, in a brief little fandom interlude back in 2022. i remember thinking, then, what an author, i'm really missing out these days. one of my favourite post-war harry characterisations— raucous, promiscuous, messy and at heart, a hopeless romantic. also one of my favourite draco characterisations— pristine, a little uptight, cool and distant and untouchable, except what he really wants is to be unbuttoned, messed up. the transforming sentiments of their relationship were so compelling, the build of harry's feelings was perfectly achey and tender and this draco was a complex, nuanced, frightfully sexy version that i just couldn't turn away from.

pages of you (E, 101k) ft. a 1980s non-magical au

Summer, 1980. Harry is floating between university and becoming a Real Certified Adult. He's not ready. He really isn't. In a desperate attempt to have the Best Last Summer ever, he takes a casual job at his godfather's bookshop in London, starts an illicit pen pal affair with a wordy posh boy that he's catching feelings for, all while dealing with the son of Sirius's business rival, one Draco Malfoy, insufferable know-it-all extraordinaire.

gosh, what a fic. sensitive and sprawling, this work brings the spatialities of london, sirius and remus' queer comfort of a bookshop and harry's room at the residence halls to pulsing, colourful, splendid life. i can still close my eyes and imagine the spaces this fic occurs in, how important they are to the push and pull, ups and downs of the dynamic between harry and draco. a coming-of-age/sexual awakening & exploration story, summer romance and queer political fiction rolled into one, this is a fic that's hard to summarise and easy to obsess over. perfect characterisations, writing that burrows into your soul and a plot that unfolds with the slow and steady depth of gentle lake.

and lastly, a fic that's on my tbr:

terrible people (E, 52.7k) ft. cruises, beach holidays and more of @getawayfox's masterpieces

What happens when Harry and Draco end up on the same Muggle gay cruise? They certainly didn't plan for it to happen (but their friends might have). They're stuck with each other for a week, they might as well make the most of it, right?

in conclusion: vivid, descriptive, immersive storytelling from an author who understands the intricacies of different narrative elements and leverages them masterfully. can't wait to read the works i haven't, and for everything wolf writes in the future!

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

If it’s ok with you, can I get Yandere Diasomnia, Leona and Ruggie with a Toki Wartooth reader (from the show Metalocalypse. If you don’t know what it is, feel free to ignore). Toki Wartooth reader is Norwegian, knows how to play guitar, is really sweet, loves childish things and naive but when really angry gets very violent due to their abusive background.

Toki Wartooth Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

You’re funny, you’re silly and despite how often you do bizarre things those who find themselves enamored can’t seem to find the rhyme or reason you do anything. All they know is that their not keen on life without you:

Malleus Draconia

“Thats was so funs! Let’s dos it again!”

“Anything you desire, (Y/n)!”

Doesn’t mind you’re extreme sense of fun

And often encourages it

After all the both of you aren’t exactly concerned about others safety

The same goes for the treatment of everyone who makes you the slightest bit unhappy

Lilia Vanrouge

“Hahaha you’re a delight (Y/n)!”

“Ah not a turkish one right because I don’ts really likes those ones. Only Scandinavians!”

“Right.”

Thinks you’re beyond entertaining and often enjoys joining your shenanigans

Silver 

“Maybe that isn’t a good idea (Y/n).”

“Hmm maybes you’re right.”

Is actually able to convince you to do whatever he wants

Makes it much easier than fighting against whatever you usually do

Sebek Zigvolt

“Hahahahaha!”

“STOP RIGHT THERE (Y/N) IM SERIOUS! NO CANDY FOR YOU! HEY!”

Is just focused on keeping you alive

And is under the impression you can’t live without him

Leona Kingscholar

“Lets blows this things up with the really really cool blow-up sticks!”

“Let’s not.”

Is set on chasing you and saving you from your own idiocy

Which is all fine as long as no one else is included

Ruggie Bucci

“Hey! What are you doing!? Get down from there!”

“Buts the stars looks so pretties!”

Would no doubt use his magic to keep rivals away

But he’s too busy just trying to make sure you’re not recklessly injuring yourself

[tamamita]

https://www.tumblr.com/2goldensnitches/766324669447127040?source=share

"#tamamita being swedish and heritageposts being norwegian? time to draft them and send em to ukraine on nato’s behalf perhaps??"

Sal I'm hyperventilating I can't believe you lied to us about being ASAJ (Assigned Swedish at Jumblr) 😭😭😭

I like when they get mad at me. It's not gonna do much, but it's always a delight to see them malding

[copperbadge]

I think you might appreciate this summary of all the jewelry worn by all the non-British royals at Chuck’s shindig? https://www.thecourtjeweller.com/2023/05/foreign-royal-jewels-with-another-secret-tiara-moment-at-the-coronation-of-king-charles-iii-and-queen-camilla.html

As much as I dislike the Windsors, man, what a fascinating article to read. For those who are also iffy on the British Royalty, the article is about the foreign royals invited to the event and some of them are a) hot as fuck and b) wearing gorgeous jewelry.

Also I sent this to my mother, who loves all things royalty regardless of who or where, and she was DELIGHTED. We agreed the Queen of Eswatini is wearing what mushrooms would look like if they were a dress, but also that it's a gorgeous dress and she's wearing the hell out of it.

I was bummed to discover the Crown Princess of Greece brought a clutch shaped like a book rather than bringing an actual book.

(Michaelis brought a book to Gregory's coronation. Well, the thing is HOURS long and he was seated where nobody could see him. It was Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy.)

Royal jewelry is an insane rabbit hole to climb down -- the last time I was looking up royals, because my parents decided to switch allegiance from the British to the Norwegians, who are more attractive and less....Like That, I found this messageboard that I still check regularly because it's fascinating.

[pitchsidestories]

Picture You II Fridolina Rolfö x Engen!Reader

masterlist I word count: 2480

a/n: hi, we had this idea for quite a while now and finally got to writing it down, we hope you enjoy it.

Fridolina Rolfö had no explanation for why her relationships always failed.

Her boyfriend of two years had broken up with her out of nowhere and as much as she wanted to feel sad about it, there was some kind of apathy taking over her.

Coincidentally, her teammates had scheduled a team bonding event only a few days after she was dumped.

In hopes that it would ease her pain and appease the younger players, they decided on an ice cream party.

That was how Fridolina found herself sitting in front of a bowl of vanilla ice cream while her teammates uttered words of reassurance to her that she did not want to hear.

“Don’t worry, Frido. We’ll find you a man who’s worthy of you.“ Mapi grinned while pouring sprinkles on top of her chocolate ice cream.

Fridolina looked up at the defender: “Oh… uhm… thanks.“

“Men are so overrated though.“, Cata rolled her eyes.

“Can we change the topic?“, Fridolina asked carefully. She did not want to ruin the mood but she hoped to draw the attention away from herself.

Ingrid gave her a gentle smile, ready to help her friend out.

“My sister will start her job as a photographer for Barca tomorrow.“, she revealed, visibly proud.

Mapis face lit up with excitement: “That’s amazing, Ingrid.“

“Yes, and well deserved. Your sister is so talented.“, Fridolina agreed, relieved but also genuinely happy.

Ingrid beamed, flattered on her sisters behalf: “She will be so happy to hear that.“

Esmee served herself another portion of ice cream: “I’m excited to meet her.“

“You will love her.“, Ingrid promised.

“I’ve no doubt about that.“, Esmee laughed.

“And Mapi and I are making Frido a list for potential blind dates.“, Aitana announced.

Fridolina flinched at the mention.

As she looked over, her two teammates had already scribbled names on an empty sheet of paper.

“How do you even know so many people?“

Mapi shrugged nonchalantly: “We just do.“

“You need to slow down, girls. I’m not sure if I want to date any man right now…“, Frido stopped them.

Mapi and Aitana shared a surprised look.

“Oh, sorry. We only wanted the best for you, Frido. That’s all.“, Aitana apologized.

The Swedish football player nodded: “I know. But maybe I just need break for now.“

Ingrid put a hand on her friends forearm and said softly: “That’s okay, we understand it. You two had been together for quite a while.“

“Yes, but it hasn’t felt right anymore for a long time.“, the blonde admitted.

Alexia shrugged, eating fruit out of her ice cream bowl: “It happens. Sometimes you just fall out of love with someone and you can’t do anything about it.“

The words of her captain resonated deeply with Fridolina who enjoyed the evening more than before now.

“Ingrid, let me breathe.”, you chuckled. It was your first workday for Barcelona as their new photographer, but your sister prevented you from taking photos as she embraced you in a long hug.

“No.”, she shook her head, clearly not ready to let you go yet.

“Please? Hi, everyone.”, you waved politely with your free hand at the players who slowly arrived at the training grounds.

“Hi.”, Mapi grinned.

“Good to see you, Mapi.”, you replied truthfully, relieved to see some familiar faces.

“So happy you got the job.”, the Spanish defender told you thrilled.

“Me too. Also, hey, Caro and Frido!”, you added delighted to see the Scandinavian players.

“Finally, another Norwegian.”, Caroline winked at you.

“Ignore her. Sweden is so much better.”, Fridolina teased her teammate, but swallowed hard at the sight of you, you were even more beautiful than she remembered. Instead, the blonde tried to play down the excitement she felt while looking at you and hugged you casually.

“We won’t discuss this right now.”, Ingrid decided laughing.

“No, but I’m sure you can show me all the great places in the city.”, you glanced at the footballers you knew since your sister played along side them in Wolfsburg.

“That’s more Frido’s thing. She can help you with that and I can teach you the language.”, Caroline declared.

“That’s my sister. Why can’t I show her around and teach her?”, your sibling wanted to know pouting playfully.

Looking between them, Marta announced:” I’m sure you girls will find a way.”

And they did, you easily felt at home in Barcelona with the help of your sister and her friends. It was different to when you visited Ingrid with your family in the past. Step by step you fell in love with the city and its inhabitants.

A few weeks in and you were doing a photo shooting outside with Fridolina for the summer Barca merchandise. The late afternoon sun made her hair and skin appear golden and you had to pause your preparations to remark:” The outfit looks great on you, Frido.”  

“Oh, thank you.”, she beamed at you, making these sporty clothes look effortlessly elegant and timeless.

“It’s true.”, you smiled back while taking a few test shoots to see how well the light, her profile worked together.

“Can I ask you something? When did you start taking photos?”, Fridolina asked you curiously.

Hearing her questions made your smile grew even brighter. “A long time ago. I was like 15 or 16. when I got into it.”, you remembered fondly at the memory.

 “I guess Ingrid and your brother were the test models.”, the Swedish player thought out loud.

“Yes, she was the reason why I became interested in taking sports related pictures.”, you admitted.

Fridolina laughed lightly: “Did she bully you into taking photos of her while playing?“

“No, I saw that they never had any photos of their games so I started doing it. The first ones turned out awful.“, you grinned as you thought back.

The Blonde shrugged: “Isn’t it always like that? The first times I played football, I wasn’t great at it either.“

“You’re right. But taking photos of you is so easy, you’re a natural.“, you replied while you pressed the shutter a few times.

She even looked beautiful doing casual small talk.

But you realized that the collar of her jacket was upturned.

You put your camera down and come closer to fix it for her. After all, the goal was to present the retro looking Barcelona jacket.

Fridolina smiled gratefully at you: “I mean I’ve already done this a few times. But I don’t think I’ve ever felt as comfortable as I do right now.“

You bit your lip to keep yourself from grinning too wide about that compliment.

“Frido, you’re beautiful inside and outside.“, you said without taking your eyes off of her.

Her cheeks slightly blushed: “That’s so sweet of you.“

“Want to change into the second outfit?“, you suggested, giving both of you a break to focus back on the task at hand.

“Sure.“, the Swede said and disappeared into the changing room.

You took a deep breath, grounding yourself again while you waited.

Fridolina emerged in light blue jeans and a slightly oversized shirt in their signature colours that said Barca across the chest.

You shook your head in awe. This woman could literally wear anything.

“Oh, I love that outfit even more.“, you complimented her.

She looked down at herself: “You do?“

“Yes.“, you said while taking a few photos of her.

“I think it would look cute on you too.“, Frido smirked.

“Do you think so?“

You barely finished your question when you noticed that she was already in the motion of pulling the shirt over her head.

“What are you doing?“, you asked laughing.

The football player just handed you the garment: “Here.“

Stunned, you looked at it and the back to Fridolina standing there in her underwear: “Uhm thanks?“

She rolled her eyes with a smile: “No, put it on.“

“Fine.“, you gave in and did as you were told before adding: “But it’s definitely not warm enough for you to just stand there in your sports bra.“

“I guess I should get dressed again.“, she laughed.

You returned the shirt to your model: “Here are your clothes. Hey, that’s my camera.“

You had failed to realize that she had taken your camera and was now taking photos of you with a big grin on her face.

You usually hated being photographed but Fridolina looked too happy so you bit back any comment.

“I’m not leaving without taking a photo of you too.“

“I guess that’s fair even though I’m not as pretty as Ingrid.”, you turned your gaze away from the Swedish woman and looked at the fresh cut grass instead.

“What? Who says? The beauty obviously runs in the family.”, she disagreed.

“Well, my ex-girlfriend said that.”, you shrugged.

“She was a liar then. You’re gorgeous.”, Fridolina observed.

“That means a lot coming from such a stunning woman herself.”, you confessed smiling timidly. For a moment you paused before asking her:” Do you want to see the pictures I made right now or tomorrow?”

“Aw, thank you. Can I see them now?”, curiously she handed you your camera back, where you started to go through the photos you took of her.

“Of course.”, you nodded politely.

 Being this close to you made the blondes heart flutter.

“They’re so nice, y/n.”, Fridolina muttered, suddenly breathlessly.

“Glad you like them. So, I’ll see you before the game tomorrow?”, you changed the topic lightly.

“Sure.”, she beamed at you.

“Goodbye, Frido.”, you responded warmly.

“See you soon, y/n.”, the footballer replied, eagerly anticipating your reunion.

On the next day, you didn’t find the time to catch up with her as you were busy taking the pictures of the arriving players in their pretty matchday outfits. All of them arrived in style.

During the game you were not mesmerized by their beauty but by their beautiful game which you tried to capture with your camera. This was why you wanted to be here, you thought, to watch the best team in Europe thrive in front of your lens. Somehow the Swede always managed to get your attention as you would notice later while seeing through the photos.

When the referee blew the final whistle, Fridolina run to you to pull you into a hug, while you whispered into your ear:” Frido you had an amazing game.”

“Thanks”, she hummed, while her blue eyes sparkled with excitement.

“Well played.”, you couldn’t help but to rave about her performance.

“Appreciate it.”, the fellow Scandinavian mumbled.

“But I got to go around now to take some more shots.”, you explained winking, as you stepped away from her hug. Which had to be completely friendly and nothing more, right? Because she was 100 % straight. Nothing seemed gay about her. Still some signals your sister’s best friend send were quite confusing.

“Y/n, wait!”, Fridolina yelled your name nervously, attempting to hold you back.

“What?”, you turned your head confused.

“Frido, there you’re. My friend wants to meet you.”, Mapi grinned at her taller teammate, nodding into a direction of a very handsome man waiting in the stands, the sight of him, making your stomach turn. He and her would be a pretty couple.

To your surprise, Fridolinas gaze remained fixed on you.

Reluctantly she turned to Mapi, deliberately ignoring the man.

“Mapi, I’m sorry but I’m not interested. I was about to ask y/n to go on a date with me.“, she apologized but her voice was firm and determined.

“What?!“, you and Mapi gasped at the same time, looking at each other in confusion.

Fridolina remained unimpressed: “Uhm yes. I’m actually not straight. You all just assume that because I date men too.“

After a moment of silence, Mapi started to grin like she only now understood the joke that you failed to get: “No, you always dated men since we know you.“

“That still doesn’t make me straight.“, Fridolina replied matter-of-factly.

You would be impressed by her attitude, if you were any less confused.

Mapi had stopped smiling and watched her teammate attentively.

“That’s right.“, you agreed slowly.

The Swede turned back to you: “So… would you go out with me?“

You nodded: “I’d.“

“Really?“, Fridolina asked again.

This time, your face finally reflected your excitement. You smiled: “Yes.“

You both just beamed at each other.

“Ingrid! You won’t believe it!“, Mapi bounced up and down as she called for your sister.

Ingrid joined the three of you: “Believe what?“

“Frido asked your sister out!“, Mapi yelled.

You cringed slightly, hearing it out loud and refused to look at Ingrid.

“What do you mean Frido asked her out? Like on a date?“, your sister asked. Her perfect eyebrows knotted together.

Mapi nodded enthusiastically: “Yes, exactly that.“

“That’s so cute.“

“Oh my god, Frido. You’re full of surprises!“, Ona interrupted, patting the blonde football player on the shoulder and you silently wondered who else had overheard your conversation.

Fridolina raised her eyebrows: “Am I? Or did you just never ask?“

“You’re right. We never asked. We just assumed you were straight. Sorry.“, Ona admitted but she looked less sorry and more happy for her teammate.

You thought their reactions were kind of adorable.

“It’s fine. I just didn’t think I owed you an explanation.“, Fridolina replied politely.

You could not help yourself. You gently took her hand in yours and squeezed it once. There was no way you could contain your admiration for her.

“You didn’t need to.“, you said softly.

Her attention shifted back to you. “The fact that I dated men before you doesn’t change my feelings for you, I hope you know that.“

“During that photoshoot I felt it. But I thought you might just be nice. Now I know I was wrong.“, you chuckled.

Fridolina visibly bit back a smile: “Sorry. I was hoping I’d send the right signals.“

“You did! I was just blind and - … “

You were unable to finish your sentence. Fridolinas soft lips pressed against yours all of a sudden, right there on the field in front of everyone.

“Maybe this was clearer?”, she asked in a hopeful tone.

“Yes, it was.”, you nodded smiling.

In the background you heard your sister telling her girlfriend” Okay, Mapi, I think I need a bit of time to get used to my best friend kissing my sister.”

“You better should hurry up. They’re hitting it off right away.”, the Spaniard punched her playfully in the side, wearing an amused grin on her lips while watching you being showered with kisses by the Swede.

“I see that.”, Ingrid laughed. She knew it would be weird at first, but seeing her favourite people being happy with each other warmed her heart.

For once you didn’t have your camera to capture the moment but the picture of the first kiss with Fridolina after the match would be forever engraved inside your brain.

[inkwolvesandcoffee]

I can’t get this thought out of my head.

CoD ML

The taskforce has gotten used to Ghost saying “Can’t wait to get home to the missus.” It came as a surprise at first because he’s not the best, if not the downright worst, at expressing his emotions. Nonetheless, they’ve gotten used to the phrase and any other variation of it.

However, no one was prepared for this time. “Finally going home to my lady and the kids.”

Kids?

KIDS?!

When did this happen? Simon didn’t mention you were pregnant and neither did you. John is absolutely baffled because surely you would’ve told him since he’s the second to know this type of stuff. After all, he’s the closest to you after your man.

Soap is overjoyed, already fancying himself the fun ‘uncle’ and congratulating his mate. “Didn’t think you’d ever be a father, Ghost, but look at ye! I do hope your daughters get the looks from their bonnie mother. Unless you’re handsome.”

“We had this convo before, McTavish. I’m quite handsome.”

“I still don’t believe ye.”

Kyle is absolutely gobsmacked, but keeps it at a polite “congrats, sir”.

Little do any of them know the ‘kids’ have four sturdy legs, whiskers, and gorgeous thick fur. You’ve even deemed them the most handsome fluffy children of the neighbourhood.

Simon and you adopted two Norwegian Forest Cats before he had to leave on deployment, named Ragnar and Rollo. He wasn’t a fan of the names at first, but agreed to them to please you. Then again, he’d let you pick the names for your children if you ever decide to start a family.

Until then, this is more than enough.

Simon quietly slips beneath the covers beside you. It’s a bit of a struggle to manoeuvre his large frame around your two sons, who are quick to pounce on their father and loudly start purring.

“You’re back,” you drowsily murmur, awoken by Ragnar’s and Rollo’s sonorous purrs. Your subconscious registers his presence so you instinctively turn onto your side and snuggle up to him. “Should’ve said you’d come. Would’ve-“

He kisses your forehead. “Shh, go back to sleep.”

He knows you’d have shown up at the airport. You always do since he usually lets you know in advance whether he’s home bound and at what time he expects to be back in England. However, tonight was a very late flight though the shift in time zones made it a very, very early morning one.

Whatever the case, Simon would rather you stay at home, in bed with your sons, than be out in the dark. If he could, he’d forbid you to go out in the evening after sunset unless you’re taking him with you. Fortunately, despite never having explicitly agreed nor have it actually mentioned, you’re of one mind when it comes to that. After all, it’s hard to miss the posters and flyers against sexual assault and intimidation of women.

And you do feel safer when Simon’s with you.

Vice versa is also the case. Indeed, your big burly bastard of a man shares the sentiment.

He’s been doing a lot of mental work recently to work on his emotional intelligence. One thing that’s been helping a lot in opening up and trying to form connections, well, an even deeper connection to you (he’s not a people person so you’re pretty much the only one he talks to outside the taskforce) is gaming.

Yup, Simon Riley is a gamer.

A massive Assassin’s Creed fan too. This is a hill I will die on, you can’t convince me otherwise.

So imagine his surprise when after breakfast you slip a present across the table to him. How his eyes light up, the delight banishing the suspicion that cast a darkness over them, when he sees you bought him a special edition of AC: Mirage. Little does he know you placed a pre-order the moment he told you Ubisoft was coming out with a new game in the franchise.

“Thought you might like this. As a ‘welcome home’ prezzie,” you say, hiding the smile spreading on your lips behind your coffee mug.

“Thank you, love.” He stands up and walks over to your side. You get up too, arms outstretched in anticipation of one of his rare bear hugs. In spite of his stone cold persona, Simon seems to radiate heat whenever he’s home. So you stand there for a few moments, simply enjoying the feel of his arms around you.

After cleaning up and changing into a pair of sweats, he turns the PS5 on. Ragnar and Rollo plop down on the couch on either side of the both of you, freshly returned from their habitual morning stroll around the yard. You snuggle up to Simon, basking in his warmth while watching him play.

A perfect lazy family day.