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#or they bring up the feeling that someone's missing
gloomwitchwrites · 17 hours
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Hello, hope you're a having a good day
Could you write something about 141 x reader where the sparring session turns a little too not your usual sparring (if you know what I mean). The reader and them being all sweaty and shit and like the sexual tension that's been there for a while. This idea has been plaguing my mind since forever. Thank youuuu
Haha! Yes! Omg, I love it. Okay, for this, I didn't go full smut. When someone mentions sexual tension, I tend to hyperfocus on that and want to bathe in it. Give me naughty thoughts and flirting-maybe even some actual physical contact that borders on dangerous territory. Give me the yearning! I want to giggle and kick my feet and think about what might happen later.
So, I indulged in that regard! I had lots of fun with this. Thank you so much for sending it in!!!
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x TF141!Female Reader
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, knife play, grinding, rough kissing, caught in the act, training, naughty thoughts, mutual yearning
Word Count: 2.4k
ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
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John "Soap" MacTavish
“Come on. Come at me.”
Soap rolls his shoulders and then brings his fists up in a fighting stance. He makes a “go on” gestured with his hands.
Every muscle in your body is sore. Tired doesn’t even begin to describe how you’re feeling. But you want to best Soap. He’s been on your ass for weeks now—insisting that the two of you should spar together. It’s not the sparring that makes you warm and tingly but the way he suggests it.
Always leaning in. Standing far too close. Bumping your shoulder with his.
Soap waits, but you’re not sure how to proceed. So far, you’ve been completely unsuccessful. As if knowing all your moves, Soap has dodged each blow and kick, effortlessly taking you down to the mat every time you thinking you’ve ensnared him.
Stealth is more your thing. Creeping around in the shadows. Taking out opponents from afar. A sniper scope is your friend. Hand-to-hand isn’t.
You lunge for him and Soap steps back. Fist missing him, you sidestep and go for a jab in the stomach. Soap slaps your hand away, and you want to yell in frustration.
“Sloppy today,” chides Soap, grinning like this amuses him.
It probably does. He’s one for a good laugh.
This time you feign, and Soap takes it, moving in. You’re ready for him, turning out of his swing to duck beneath and then aim for the face. Soap rises to block, and opens a clear line to his groin.
Fucking beautiful.
Lifting your foot, you don’t tap him hard, just enough for his cheeks to go pink. Soap grunts, and you chuckle.
“Shouldn’t have left yourself—”
With an oof, your back smacks against the tumble mat beneath you. Soaps snags your wrists and pins them above your head. You go to kick out at him, but Soap’s knees are between your legs. He shoves them wider.
You’re completely trapped beneath him.
And in a completely inappropriate position.
From where you’re pinned, you notice the small beads of sweat on his brow and how a few pieces of hair stick to his skin. Though his chest is covered by a shirt, it’s snug, with every muscle on display. Those powerful thighs of his press against yours in such a way that you’re imagining nothing between your bodies.
Would he feel this powerful over you if the two of you were elsewhere? Perhaps, somewhere more private. Somewhere without a tumble mat. Somewhere with a bed.
“Can’t harm the goods, love,” says Soap, his voice husky. You’re not sure if it’s from the close contact or from the tap you gave his crotch.
“Then don’t leave them vulnerable,” you reply, almost not recognizing the sound of your own voice. It too is husky as if dipped in desire.
The middle of Soap’s brow scrunches slightly. His gaze travels downward to linger on your lips and then further still until you sense him admiring more than he is observing.
“Soap—”
His gaze snaps upward. “Johnny,” he corrects. “Think we’re on closer terms.”
“Are we?” you ask, as his hips start to relax.
The press of him against you is apparent, and the hardness there is poking at you. Insistent. And you don’t want to ignore it.
Instead, you press upward, grinding against him.
Soap—no—Johnny, makes a sound in his throat.
One moment you’re under him and then you’re in his lap, the two of you sitting up, staring into each other’s eyes. Your heart hammers in your chest, and your hands fists the front of his shirt.
“You—”
“Are we interrupting something?”
You and Johnny turn just as Ghost and Gaz enter the gym. Gaz has a towel draped over his shoulder. The water bottle he holds it half-way towards his mouth before he freezes, gaze locked on you and Johnny.
Ghost cocks his head, arms crossed over his chest.
You’re speechless. Lost. Your mind hasn’t caught up.
But Johnny’s has.
With a twist, Johnny rolls and then lightly tosses you off him as if the two of you were simply practicing and not staring into each other’s eyes.
“You want a go, Lt?” asks Johnny.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
“You up for another round?” asks Kyle.
The man is grinning like he could do this all day. You’re sore everywhere—ready to collapse from exhaustion. Hand-to-hand combat is not your thing which is why you’re here in the training room with Kyle.
Yes, you need practice, but you’ve also had your eye on him, admiring him when you think no one is looking. It’s an excuse for some alone time.
“I’d rather eat glass,” you mutter, snatching up your water bottle and drinking the last of it.
“Hate me that much?” he teases.
“So much so that I wanted to spend the afternoon beating your ass.”
Kyle bursts out laughing. He snatches the water bottle out of your hand and aims it at you, squeezing. There’s nothing in it. A few measly drops hit your face and then you lunge for him. Kyle jumps back and extends his arms outward.
“One more round.” He winks. “Come on, love.”
He’s being cheeky, and your blood is pumping.
Kyle tosses your water bottle to the side as you stride forward. His arms go up, and then the two of you are nothing but flying fists and feet. He’s faster, blocking every blow you send his way.
Sweat accumulates on your brow and on the back of your neck, dripping down your spine. You lick your lips, taste the salt from the sweat.
You duck. Swing. Kyle snatches your wrist and twists, pinning your arm behind you. With a sharp jab of your elbow, you nail Kyle in the stomach, freeing yourself.
As you spin to lash out, Kyle is right there, in your space, blocking all movement. You try to step back, to allow space in your next strike, but Kyle rushes in. The two of you are twisted up. Falling. Slamming into the mat on the floor.
You shove and Kyle resists, his strength outmatching yours. With cheek pressed into the mat, you have nowhere to go. You’re completely on your stomach, and all of Kyle’s weight is on you. He breathes heavily, chest heaving. You feel his breath against your skin, and the contact only sends your skin into a shiver.
Your mind drifts, lingering in places it shouldn’t. Worse—Kyle is aroused. His hardness pokes at your ass. But whether he notices or not is unclear.
“You’re improving,” he says.
“I have a good teacher.”
Kyle makes a noise that sounds like agreement. Every muscle is tense, and even Kyle’s hold on you seems laced with something harsh. But then it eases. Softens. His grip loosens enough that you roll onto your side, glancing up at him.
He is so goddamn close. Just a gentle tilt of the head and your lips would meet his. It wouldn’t be that hard. He’s right there.
Kyle blinks, and then his gaze trails downward, lingering on your lips.
“We,” he begins. “We shouldn’t.”
“Why?”
His thumb traces along the side of your throat, and your eyelids flutter with contentment. A little moan escapes you, and you hear Kyle’s sharp inhale.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “Fuck it.”
His thumb becomes his whole hand. Holding you in place, Kyle goes all in, claiming your lips with his. It is dominating, and you happily give in to him.
John Price
Your back hits the tumble mat with a sharp slap. The exposed portions of your shoulders and back sting from the contact.
"Again."
Groaning, you push up to a seated position. "We've been at this for hours."
"And you need practice," counters Price.
He's hatless. And shirtless. Only in cargo pants and boots, Captain Price's bare skin glistens with sweat. You won't pretend that the sight of him like this doesn't intrigue you. For months now you've been observing Captain Price in more than just a professional manner. It's hard not to, and the sweat-drenched man before you isn't helping things.
Captain Price runs his fingers through his hair, taking a step back. The casualness to the movement causes your stomach to twist with desire. Your body betrays you, and you have no idea if these feelings are entirely one-sided. Sometimes you think you might gleam a notion of his thoughts, but it always manages to slip through your grasp.
Price offers his hand, and an idea forms.
You extend yours, but don't close the distance. Price is the one that leans forward to do so. It's the perfect opportunity. When your fingers close around his, you tug back, throwing him off balance.
Price tips forward, and you turn to the side as he crashes down to the mat. In one fluid movement, you roll Price onto his back and straddle his stomach.
"Never let your guard down. That's what you always say."
Price's eyes widen slightly before softening. The corner of his mouth twitches into a hint of amusement. It immediately sends heat flaring through you.
"I do," he replies, and it's nearly a coo.
That smirk of his widens into an actual smile, and then it's you on your back and Price straddling. You strike out with an elbow but Price catches your swing, trapping your arms above your head. He bends forward a bit, and it is then that you feel the stiffness against your stomach.
Price makes no move to hide it, and you don’t dare glance downward.
"You need to do better-"
"Captain."
Price immediately recoils, sitting up and releasing your arms. You twist to look behind you, only to find Ghost and Soap standing nearby. Ghost is ever the silent observer, but Soap's head is slightly tilted to the side, the middle of his brow pinched like he's not sure what's happening.
"Meeting starts in five,” says Soap. “Came to find you."
Price coughs and then he's off you, kneeling and offering you a hand again. You don't try to knock him down.
"Just going over some pointers,” replies Price.
"Pointers?" deadpans Ghost and you shoot him a look. He shrugs at you, gaze lingering before moving to his captain.
"Give me ten minutes. Shower. Then I'll be there."
Captain Price gives you a quick glance before walking off with Soap. Ghost crosses his arms over his chest and just stares.
“What?" you snap
"Pointers," he repeats.
"Oh, fuck off, Simon."
He chuckles and turns to follow the two out of the training room.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
"Your posture is terrible."
"That's very helpful, Lieutenant,” you deadpan.
"Are you sassing me?"
"No."
Simon shakes his head and sighs. “Can’t throw a knife accurately if you’re hunched like a goblin.”
“Goblin,” you mutter under your breath. “Asshole.”
“What was that?”
You clear your throat. “Seems easy, Lieutenant. You just throw the pointy end at the enemy.”
Simon grunts and then grabs your raised arm. "You won't hit anything standing like that."
You resist his pull but you're outmatch when it comes to strength. With one hand on your arm and one on your waist, Simon shifts you into position.
"Like this," he instructs, bringing your arm back. "Firm grip. Feet pointed forward." Simon releases your arm but his hand on your waist remains. "Throw. At the target."
You let the knife fly. It strikes just right of the bullseye.
"Again,” nods Simon.
"Really?"
Simon slowly drops his hand from your waist, the tips of fingers lingering a second longer than necessary.
Removing a knife from his boot, Simon flips it end over end. "We could hone your skills a different way."
"What way?"
“Grab your knife and find out.”
Stalking toward the bullseyes, you yank out the knife, joining Simon in the sparring ring. He bends at the knee, crouching into a fight stance. You mimic the movement.
Simon lunges first and you sidestep. But he's quick for such a large man. He moves around and behind you so fast he's almost a blur.
Grabbing your wrist, Simon lightly twists and pins you against his front, the knife tip pointed at your throat.
"Again,” he growls.
Simon lightly shoves you away. You spin. Striking out. He slaps your arm down and raises his own, the knife tip pointed at your throat for a second time.
"Again."
Showing your teeth, you charge at him, barreling into him at the middle. Simon staggers but doesn't faulter. He attempts to toss you off him, but you remain firm, grabbing hold.
This unloads him, his weight toppling with you. The two of you go down. Simon rolls you onto your back, his body pressed to yours, knife at your throat again.
"Better,” he says. “Still needs improvement."
You go to shove him off, but Simon doesn't budge. He remains where he is, and every point of contact is like an electrical spark. Even his face is close, balaclava nearly scratching against your skin. There is not part of him you’re not touching.
Awareness settles in.
Simon is all hardness over you.
"Have any tips you can give me?" you reply.
His gaze slowly lowers to your lips. His hips shift slightly, something stiff poking against your inner thigh.
“I have one,” he murmurs.
Bet I can guess.
“How do you want it?” he continues.
"You're the expert," you reply softly, hooking your leg over the back of his.
It's an invitation, one you aren't sure he'll take.
There’s a brief pause, and then Simon hums in agreement. It’s a pleased sound, one that instantly makes you shiver. Without taking the knife from your throat, he closes the distance, lips pressing against yours through the balaclava.
Heat erupts, the knife in your hand forgotten on the floor as you grab at him, fingers digging in.
It's only a tease. You want the real thing.
"What's the tip?" you ask once he breaks the connection.
Simon answers by grinding his hips against yours.
That one. Got it.
“We should—”
A door slams from somewhere down the hall. Simon’s head snaps up. The knife disappears, and then Simon is pushing himself away, kneeling beside you. His head is turned toward the main doors, but no one enters.
“It’s late,” you say. No one should be coming this way.
He turns back to you. “Your knife skills are shit.”
You groan. “I know. Goblin hunch. Got it.”
Simon snorts, and offers his hand. You take it, and he pulls you into a seated position. “Just a few more rounds,” he says, and then with a husky twinge to his tone, “and then I’ll go make sure the locker room is clear.”
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oceantornadoo · 18 hours
Text
(simon riley x f!reader, same rank!)
violence, cod inaccuracies, reader is a badass
simon riley never calls you baby
until he does.
you tell him it has to stay hidden. you can't be known as "the girl fucking the lieutenant", no matter if you're the same rank as him, the same sweat and tears put into the job. it scares you, the thought of losing decades of hard work over some stupid fling with a man they call ghost. a man who brings you tea on your sick days, a man with soft eyes and a listening ear, the only man who's ever brought you to orgasm. the push and pull of your autonomy and your love is ever growing, that bone deep fear rooted in your marrow.
simon's scared too. scared of waking up and it's all a dream. scared that his enemies will find out, scared that it'll show he isn't so dead after all. he's been a rotting thing on earth for nearly four decades and he's comfortable with it; no matter how alive you make him feel. his hand on your waist feels right, but he can't bring his heart into the light.
so you call each other "lieutenant." maybe "riley" when he pisses you off, just to get under his skin. "dove" is rare, but it warms you up just the same, gives you an unbidden vision of hot chocolate and snow days. mainly its "l.t.", remnant of johnny, the respect and friendliness woven together sweetly. you murmured "babe" to him once, in the early morning when he sneaks out, and felt his shoulders bunch, the weight of it too much to bear. that was the end of pet names, or so you thought.
--
it's a foggy day on what becomes the worst night of your life. the mission is at a standstill, the intel outdated. you were supposed to be taking out a terrorist organization, blowing up the base of their operations, but instead the building is damp and abandoned, echoes of life the only sign they were here. price is in your ear, telling you to clear one last room and retreat, simon already on his way out. you nudge your way into the room with caution, years of practiced steps coming to you on instinct. for some reason, you don't catch the glint of a stranger's eye in a hidden corner. you don't see the rope in his hands, the knife between his teeth. the next thing you see is the floor, fog seeping over concrete as rough hands gag you and mutter promises of ungodly harm.
something's wrong. "price." simon murmurs soft and low, crossing out of the building to the tree cover below. "where is she? s'pposed t' be out by now." he's scanning the building through his scope, looking for that figure he knows so well, could find blind. "copy. 'er tracker says she's still in the buildin'. let's-" there's a piercing scream in the air. the ravens take flight from the trees. dark wings, dark words. "ghost-" "goin' in." a sigh on the other end. he can practically feel price's hesistancy but he doesn't care, heavy feet already moving back into the building. "you're goin' in blind, radar's jus' gone out." he swears under his breath, clearing hallway after hallway as the building falls back into silence. just as he comes upon a 4-way split, you scream again, the sound far away and to his left. "'m comin' dove, hold on." there's no gunfire, no sounds of fight. it's so eerie he thinks he might have dreamed it, his worst nightmare come true. his instincts lead the way, some knowledge of your location hidden in his blood. pop. finally a gunshot, and if he squints hard, he tries to imagine it being from your weapon. he's close, nostrils expanding at the scent of you, memorized even without your favored perfume.
there were four of them. you still can't believe you missed them, the thought in the back of your head as you fight for your life. scrambling from the rope one tries to force on you, becoming an eel as you slip out of their grasps. this is what you do, what you're trained for. until someone stomps down hard on your ankle, the force of it cracking straight through. you scream, can't help it, searing pain blinding your vision for precious seconds. they take advantage of it, gloved hands tying your own behind your back in a tight knot. you can't reach your comms so you scream again, this one out of frustration, desperation that your team, that simon, might not find you.
the big one shuts you up with a hand to your throat, a bruising grip that leaves you unable to speak. they aren't well trained, fumbling hands and shaky grips, and you're finally able to reach your holster, shooting the first between the eyes before you can even glimpse his face. now you're in your element, adrenaline covering the pain of your ankle as you fight back, shooting one after the other, digging out your knife for close combat. it's over in a blink, the men no match for your skills, and once you double check they're dead, you collapse in the corner, the pain of your ankle roaring. that's when you hear it.
"baby?" it's him (but it can't be). he's never called you that. you pretend not to see when he whispers it into your neck as you feign sleep, when he murmurs it in a grunt as he's deep in your cunt. he's never said it to your face. "baby!" it's definitely him, that gruff voice cutting across the fog. you whine out of frustration, your throat too sore from your attacker to call out. instead, you limp to the door, almost running into simon as he comes crashing into your own personal hell. he sweeps you into his arms and you let him, grabbing his shoulders to make sure he's real.
"y' hurt?" he takes a look around the room, at the carnage in your wake. "my brave girl." you're sobbing, unsure whether its from frustration or relief. still can't believe you got caught, feeling like such a stereotype to have your knight in shining armor rescue you. "handled them all y'rself, hm, baby?" he's all sweetness and it hurts, seeing his eyes swell in pride as he takes in the four dead men, gunshots and a knife sticking out of one's eye. "why- why are you calling me that, simon?" he's ushering you out, your arm around his neck as you limp towards freedom. "proud of you." he says it simply, eyes trained on potential threats, not watching your reaction.
"aye, i told you, gaz. ye owe me a drink." soap's voice crackles through the comms. they were on. which meant your team heard the whole thing, heard simon practically claim you, knew you were together, thought you were a slu- "she's too good for him. i don't believe it." gaz's voice replied. "bugger off." simon grumbled into the mic, the sounds of them snickering loud and clear. "good?" he turned back at you, stopping you before you approached the clearing where your team waited. his eyes told you something different, that he'd walk out of here right now if you wanted. the cock of his head meant he'd follow you anywhere, live off the lamb for decades if you wanted. that was all you needed to know. you nodded and pushed forward. "yeah, i'm good, baby."
--
this is SO CRINGE but it's been in my drafts forever and needed to start paying rent
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a-lexia11 · 11 hours
Text
Womanizer (Part 1)
Fuckboy!Alexia Putellas x reader
Word count: Around 14k
Warning:highly suggestive (minors DNI), some angst.
Based on this request
Part 2
Note: I will be posting Part 2 in a few minutes, I just need to proofread it!
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You relocated to Barcelona, hoping for a fresh start—a new city, new people, and a chance to rebuild your life with your three-year-old daughter, Mia.
You needed a place where the past wouldn’t haunt you, where you could finally focus on giving Mia the stable life she deserves.
It hasn’t been easy. You spent five years with your ex-boyfriend, someone you once believed was your forever. But over time, the cracks began to show.
He cheated on you more times than you care to remember, always finding excuses, always making promises he never kept.
When you discovered you were pregnant, you thought maybe things would change—that becoming parents might finally bring him closer.
Instead, the moment he found out about the pregnancy, he walked out on you without a second thought.
He left you to carry the weight of it all alone—heartbroken, pregnant, and unsure of what the future held.
Here in Barcelona, you met your neighbor, Carmen, a true blessing in your life. From the very first day you moved in, she was there—knocking on your door with a plate of home-cooked food, her warm smile making you feel like you weren’t quite so far from home.
Additionally, Carmen speaks English, which has been a great relief. Navigating a new country is challenging enough, and trying to learn Spanish on top of it all has been overwhelming at times.
Still, you believe your Spanish is at a decent level.
So when you first realized she was fluent, it felt like another little gift from the universe.
Carmen, with her silver-streaked hair and lively eyes, quickly became a constant in your new world, someone who seemed to understand without asking too many questions.
“You remind me of my daughter,” she’d say often, her tone affectionate as she’d pass by your door or hand you a fresh loaf of bread from the bakery down the street.
It didn’t take long before she offered you a job at her pride and joy—her little flower shop on the corner. “It’s nothing fancy,” she’d told you with a shrug, “but it’s my heart. And I could use the help. You’ll like it, trust me.”
At first, you hesitated. You hadn’t planned on working with flowers, or working at all, not while you were still getting your bearings in a new city.
But Carmen’s offer came at just the right time, and something about her made it impossible to refuse.
The shop itself is small but beautiful. The soft light from the street filters through the windows in the morning, casting a warm glow over the arrangements of roses, lilies, and wildflowers.
You spend your first days trimming stems, arranging blooms, and greeting customers. It’s peaceful in a way you hadn’t expected—almost therapeutic.
——
One afternoon, while you’re carefully arranging a bouquet behind the counter, the soft chime of the doorbell rang through the shop. You glanced up, and there she is—Alexia Putellas.
Her arrival is impossible to miss. Not only because she’s Barcelona’s football darling, her face splashed across billboards all over the city, but because she’s also infamous for her reputation. A womanizer. The kind of woman who seems to have a new lover every week.
Carmen had spoken of her often, describing how Alexia visits the shop almost daily. To Carmen, she’s practically like a daughter.
But until now, you hadn’t seen Alexia yourself. She’s been away, traveling for football matches.
Your daughter, Mia, is a huge fan of hers, idolizing her both as a footballer and a larger-than-life figure.
You’d never told Mia about Alexia’s reputation though—it wasn’t something your three-year-old needed to know obviously.
Alexia entered the shop with that unmistakable swagger, every movement filled with a quiet confidence that immediately grabs attention.
She’s not alone either. A shorter woman is draped under her arm, looking relaxed and cozy, as if she’s used to being in such close proximity to Alexia.
It’s unclear whether she’s a friend or one of Alexia’s many "flings," but the way they moved together hints at something more, or perhaps nothing at all. With Alexia, it’s hard to tell.
Alexia greeted Carmen as though she’s just stopped by to visit family.
She leaned down, pressing a kiss to Carmen’s cheek. “¡Hola, Carmen!” she said warmly. “¡Qué gusto verte! Te he echado de menos.” (Hi, Carmen! It's so good to see you! I've missed you)
Carmen beamed, clearly delighted to see her. “¡Alexia! ¡Qué alegría verte de nuevo!” she exclaimed , her voice filled with affection. (Alexia! What a joy to see you again)
“Hace tiempo que no pasabas por aquí. ¿Cómo te ha ido? Todo bien con los partidos?” (It's been a while since you last came by. How have you been? Everything going well with the matches?)
“Todo bien, gracias. Una temporada agotadora, pero estamos ganando, así que vale la pena,” Alexia replied, her eyes drifting around the shop before locking onto you. (All good, thanks. It's been an exhausting season, but we're winning, so it's worth it)
“Esta es Laura,” she added casually, introducing the woman at her side. (This is Laura)
“Laura, te presento a Carmen, la dueña de esta maravillosa floristería.” (Laura, let me introduce you to Carmen, the owner of this wonderful flower shop)
Laura smiled kindly at Carmen. “Encantada, Carmen,” she said, her voice soft but genuine. (Nice to meet you, Carmen)
“El placer es mío, Laura,” Carmen replied. “¿Qué te trae por Barcelona?” (The pleasure is mine, Laura.What brings you to Barcelona?)
Laura shrugged with a small laugh. “Estoy aquí de visita. Alexia me está mostrando la ciudad.” (I'm here visiting. Alexia is showing me around the city.)
The conversation flowed easily between them, but Alexia’s gaze kept drifting back to you.
Her eyes swept over you in a way that felt unsettling—almost predatory, as if she were sizing you up.
It’s a look you’ve seen before—back when you were too trusting, too naive, and ended up burned by someone who once gazed at you the same way.
After a bit of back-and-forth, Carmen invited Laura to check out some of the newer flower arrangements, leading her away from the counter. And that’s when Alexia seized her moment.
She walked over to you, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Hola, guapa,” she said in a tone dripping with confidence. “No creo que nos hayamos conocido. Soy Alexia.” (Hello, gorgeous.I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Alexia)
You focused on your work, refusing to meet her gaze. “Y/N,” you replied coolly, your voice polite but distant.
“Un placer, Y/N,” Alexia continued, clearly undeterred by your indifference. (Nice to meet you, Y/N)
She leaned casually on the counter, her eyes following the movements of your hands as you arranged the flowers. “Sabes, tienes un gran talento con las flores”. (You know, you have a real talent with flowers)
You kept your expression neutral, fully aware of what she was trying to do. You were tired of smooth talkers, especially someone like Alexia, who likely believed she could charm anyone into bed.
You’ve seen it all before—Mia’s father had the same cocky attitude before he left you when things got tough.
Without looking up, you switched to English, knowing full well that Alexia speaks it fluently. “I’m sure your girlfriend wouldn’t appreciate you flirting with someone else.”
Alexia’s smirk widened, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Ah, what a beautiful voice you have, Y/N,” she replied in flawless English, her thick accent making her cockiness even more apparent.
“She’s not my girlfriend, don’t worry. Just a friend… we have a lot of fun together.” She winked at you, making her meaning painfully clear.
You rolled your eyes and refocused on the flowers, hoping that by ignoring her, she would eventually leave you alone.
But Alexia leaned closer, not giving up so easily. “You seem annoyed. I could help with that, you know,” she said, her voice low and suggestive.
You let out a huff, finally meeting her gaze. “You’re the one annoying me.”
Alexia chuckled, clearly enjoying this. “Feisty. I like it,” she said, leaning even closer, her grin widening. “You know, people like you? They’re always incredible in bed.”
You shot her a withering glare but remained silent, resolved not to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.
You figured that if you didn’t engage, she would get bored and leave. Just before she could say anything else, though, Laura called for her from across the shop.
Alexia straightened up, glancing over at Laura before turning back to you with a smirk. “Don’t miss me too much. I’ll be right back,” she said, winking playfully before sauntering off.
You watched as she approached Laura, wrapping her arms around her from behind and brushing her lips against the top of Laura’s head.
As if sensing your gaze, Alexia glanced back your way and sent you another wink, clearly enjoying the game she was playing.
You rolled your eyes again, muttering under your breath as you gave her the finger. Alexia just grinned, clearly amused, before turning back to Laura.
Eventually, they returned to the counter to pay. Carmen chatted happily with them as they gathered their things, but you kept your focus on your work, doing your best to ignore Alexia’s presence.
As they finished paying, Alexia turned to you one last time. “Adios, Y/N,” she said with a playful wink. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
You didn’t bother replying, simply giving her a blank look as she left the shop, the bell chiming softly behind her.
Once they were gone, Carmen walked over with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” she said gently. “I left you alone with Alexia. She can be… intense.”
“Intense is an understatement.”you replied with a small laugh.
Carmen chuckled, shaking her head. “Yes, I know. She really enjoys the company of women, but I promise you, she’s a good person at heart. You just need to get to know her better.”
You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Sure,” you muttered, not believing a word of it.
——
“Mommy!” Your daughter’s voice called out as soon as you walked through the door of your apartment, returning home from work.
“Hi, baby! I missed you so much,” you said, scooping her up and wrapping her in a tight hug, showering her face with kisses.
“I missed you too!” she giggled, her small arms clinging to you.
You gently set her down and handed her the single flower you’d brought home. It had become a ritual—bringing her a different flower each week because she absolutely adored them.
“Ooh, this one is so pretty! Thank you, Mommy,” she said, planting a kiss on your cheek before dashing off to her room, likely to add her new flower to the others.
“Muchísimas gracias, María,” you said, turning to María, Mia’s babysitter, who had been helping you since you arrived in Barcelona. You handed her a small envelope with money. (Thank you very much,María)
“You’re welcome, Y/N. I love taking care of her. Es una niña maravillosa,” María responded warmly, her smile genuine. (She’s a wonderful girl)
María has been babysitting Mia since you moved to Barcelona. As Mia hasn’t started school yet, she’s still learning Spanish, and María has played a key role in helping her with that.
“Mia, come say goodbye to María, please,” you called out.
Mia came running, her face lighting up as she threw herself into María’s arms and planted a kiss on her cheek.
“Adiós, María,” she said in sweet, accented Spanish.
“Adiós, Mia. Hasta mañana,” María replied, giving her a final hug before turning to you. “Adiós,” she said, and you echoed her farewell as she left.
After dinner, Mia begged you to let her watch the Barcelona match. You rolled your eyes internally at the thought of seeing Alexia again, even if only on the screen, but Mia’s big, pleading eyes made it impossible to refuse.
Now, you’re settled in front of the TV with Mia snuggled next to you, both of you watching the match. Mia is practically vibrating with excitement.
When Alexia scored a goal, Mia leaped up from the couch, clapping her hands and cheering loudly. “Did you see that, Mommy? It was amazing!” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling as she mimicked Alexia’s celebration, kissing her shirt just like Alexia did on the screen.
“Yes, I saw that,” you replied, forcing a smile even though your heart wasn’t in it. You couldn’t ignore the pang of frustration at how deeply Mia admired Alexia.
“I want to be just like her when I grow up,” Mia declared, her gaze fixed intently on the TV. Her little hands were raised, as if she were celebrating her own goal.
“Eww, no,” you said without thinking, the words slipping out before you could stop them.
“Why not?” Mia asked, her voice quivering slightly. “I want to be a great player like Alexia. you think I can’t ?”
“Shit, Y/N, think before you speak!” you mentally reprimanded yourself, recognizing that your impulsive reaction could have hurt her feelings.
Your heart melted at the sincerity shining in her eyes.
“Of course you can be a great player,” you said, lifting Mia onto your lap and kissing her forehead.
“Even better than Alexia. But remember, you don’t have to be like her. You can be yourself and still be amazing.”
“Yes! I can be better!” she exclaimed, her spirits lifted. She turns back to the TV, still nestled in your arms, eyes glued to the game.
As you watch the match, you can’t help but feel conflicted. You understand that Alexia’s skill on the field has earned her immense admiration and a place in Mia’s heart.
Yet, you found it difficult to reconcile your daughter’s admiration for someone whose reputation clashed so sharply with your own values.
——
“Hola, guapa. I missed you since yesterday,” you heard Alexia’s voice, laced with her trademark confidence, as you arranged some flowers in a pot.
Startled, you turned to find her standing just behind you. With Carmen out for her dentist appointment, it was just you and Alexia. You let out a sigh, feeling a wave of annoyance wash over you.
You attempted to ignore her, concentrating hard on your task at hand.
“Hey, it’s rude to ignore a customer,” Alexia teased, her tone playfully mocking. “I might just have to tell Carmen about this.”
“You’re not a customer, just a nuisance,” you shot back curtly as you made your way toward the register.
Alexia followed you, casually leaning against the counter with her elbow propped up and her chin resting on her hand, her gaze fixed intently on you.
“Oh, me encanta cuando las mujeres se hacen las difíciles. Es un gran excitante“ (Oh, I love it when women play hard to get. It’s such a turn-on)
“I’m not playing hard to get; I genuinely have no interest,” you replied, focusing on cutting the roses.
Alexia’s smirk grew wider. “Oh, really? Who isn’t interested in me? Me has visto? (Have you seen me?)
You glanced her up and down, feigning disinterest. “Yes, I see you, but there’s not much to see,” you retorted, even though you couldn't deny her stunning looks.
“Por favor, amor, you and I both know you’re lying,” she replied with a smirk, clearly relishing the back-and-forth.
She continued, “You know, last night I had a match.” You merely hummed in response, your disinterest evident as you focused on your work. “Did you watch it?” she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of pride.
You made a face of mild disgust before lying, “No.”
“Qué pena,” she said with a self-satisfied grin.(What a shame)
“We won, and I even scored a goal—just for you,” she added, her tone brimming with confidence and a hint of arrogance.
You can’t help but scoff at her audacity. “Do you use that line on every girl you want in your bed?” you asked, finally looking up from arranging the flowers.
“A few of them,” she replied with a casual shrug, her playful smile still intact.
You tried to brush off the way she was getting under your skin. “So, what do you want? Carmen won’t be here until this afternoon if you’re looking for her.”
Alexia's eyes sparkled with mischief. “I didn’t come for Carmen. I just wanted to see you. Echaba de menos tu actitud atrevida,” she said, her gaze lingering on you as she bit her lip. (I missed your feisty attitude)
You pointed the flower cutter at her, trying to emphasize your point. “Don’t make me use this on you.”
Alexia’s grin only grew wider. “Dios, you’re so incredibly hot when you’re all aggressive. It just makes me want you more.”
You decided to ignore her comment.
“I want to buy some flowers,” she finally said, a smirk playing on her lips.
“Well, there are plenty of flowers to choose from. Just pick what you want, pay, and then leave,” you snapped, your patience wearing thin.
“Hey! No need to be rude,” she teased, crossing her arms as she sat on the counter. “Necesito un consejo.” (I need some advice)
You looked at her, signaling for her to continue.
“So, what kind of flowers should I get to say I’m sorry?” she asked, her tone surprisingly earnest.
Recognizing her genuine curiosity, you decided to help out. “You might want to consider blue hyacinths. They symbolize sincerity and heartfelt apologies,” you suggested, motioning for her to follow you as you walked over to the flowers.
“Or red carnations,” you added, pointing to another option. “They also symbolize an apology and love.”
Alexia studied the flowers with a focused intensity that caught your attention, her fingers lightly brushing over the petals as she contemplated her choices.
Standing this close, the faint scent of her perfume enveloped you, making it hard to resist being drawn in.
You realize you’re watching her more than you intended, taking in how her long, blonde hair fell over her shoulders, glinting in the light.
Her hazel eyes appeared even brighter in the soft glow of the shop, framed by thick lashes that enhanced her striking beauty.
She stood tall, her toned figure moving with an effortless grace that naturally commanded attention.
For a moment, you're caught off guard, realizing just how incredibly gorgeous she really is.
“Ay! I can’t decide. Which one would be more fitting for ‘I’m sorry for kicking you out of my bed, bruising you, and making you leave half-naked because my sister was coming over? But hey, will you come back and have sex with me again?’” she said casually, pulling you out of your daze.
You stared at her in disbelief before finally saying, “The blue hyacinths,” and pushed them toward her chest before walking away.
Alexia headed to the counter, pulling out her wallet. “Gracias. I hope she’ll love them. How much?” she asked, her smirk never fading.
You told her the total, and she handed over the money. But rather than walking away, she moved around the counter with a sly grin.
Before you knew it, she had you cornered, her presence dominating the small space between you and the wall. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned in closer.
“What do you want now? As a customer, you’re not supposed to be on this side of the counter,” you said, meeting her gaze with defiance.
Alexia leaned closer, her breath warm against your ear. “I’ll get you in my bed one day. I saw the way you looked at me. Estás tan cerca de ceder” (You’re so close to giving in)
“The only time I’ll be in your bed is in your dreams,” you whispered back, maintaining your defiant tone.
Alexia’s smile is both wicked and confident. “I can’t wait to fuck you in my bed, even if it’s just in my dreams,” she said before turning to leave.
She paused at the door, glancing back with a sly smile. “I don’t give up easily,” she added before walking out.
You watched her leave, a mix of frustration and unwanted attraction coursing through you.
——
The next morning, you found Alexia back in the shop, but this time, Carmen was there too, much to your relief.
As you stepped out of the back room, you noticed Alexia with a different woman, not Laura, whom you had previously met.
You assumed this was the woman Alexia needed to apologize to.
You arranged the flowers on display, offering Alexia and her companion a brief, polite greeting before moving to the other side of the shop.
While bending over to adjust some flowers, you heard Alexia’s unmistakable voice. “Hmm, me encanta ver a las mujeres inclinarse así. Es mi posición favorita.” (Hmm, I love watching women bend over like that. It’s my favorite position.)
You straightened up immediately and shot her a sharp look.
“I see the flowers worked,” you said, nodding toward the woman Alexia had entered the store with.
“Oh, that’s not her! But yes, they worked” Alexia replied with a self-satisfied smirk.
“I just wanted to thank you. Gracias a ti, tuve una noche increíble,” she said, giving you a playful eyebrow wiggle. (Thanks to you, I had an amazing night.)
You rolled your eyes and turned away, trying to ignore her.
Later, as you and Carmen are working at the register, Alexia and her date approached, carrying a bouquet of flowers.
“Oh, ¡buena elección! Las rosas rojas siempre son una excelente opción,” Carmen said enthusiastically, and the woman thanked her. (Oh, good choice! Red roses are always a great option.)
Alexia’s arm is draped casually around her current date’s shoulders, a gesture of intimacy that’s impossible to ignore.
As she pulled her wallet from her handbag, she handed Carmen a generous tip along with the payment for the flowers.
“Espera un momento para tu cambio; no hay suficiente en la caja,” Carmen said, her voice trailing off as she headed into the back room.(Hold on for your change; there’s not enough in the register)
With Carmen out of sight, Alexia turned her attention back to her date, a playful smirk curling on her lips.
She slid her hand around the woman’s neck, her touch both firm and tender, tilting her head back. Alexia leaned down slowly, her movements deliberate and sensuous.
She planted a deep, lingering kiss on her date’s lips.
As their lips met, you could see Alexia’s tongue gently sliding into the woman’s mouth, adding a more intimate, passionate touch to the kiss.
Her eyes though remain locked on yours throughout, a challenge in her gaze as if daring you to react.
The kiss seemed to stretch in defiance of time, with Alexia’s lips lingering and her fingers lightly tracing the woman’s neck.
The soft, rhythmic sound of their kissing was the only noise in the room, creating an almost palpable tension that seemed to fill the entire space.
Her eyes sparkled with mischief, clearly relishing the provocative display she was creating. As she continued to kiss her date with a slow, deliberate intensity, she stared at you, her gaze both teasing and challenging.
With a playful wink, she seemed to savor the effect her performance was having on you, fully aware of the spectacle she was making.
As Carmen’s footsteps drew nearer, Alexia slowly and reluctantly pulled away, her expression one of satisfaction.
With a smirk, she casually wiped with her thumb the lingering trace of saliva from the woman’s lips, clearly pleased with the effect of their intimate display.
She turned to you, her expression a mix of mischief and confidence.
Her gaze remained steady, her eyes sparkling with amusement and a hint of challenge. You met her stare, striving to maintain your composure despite the palpable tension in the air.
You narrowed your eyes at her, feeling the heat of the moment as you struggled to maintain your professional demeanor amidst the charged atmosphere created by Alexia’s bold flirtation.
“Carmen, ¿podrías arreglar que estas flores se entreguen en mi casa mañana por la mañana?” Alexia asked sweetly, her gaze flickering to you with an almost imperceptible, suggestive glint. (Carmen, could you arrange for some flowers to be delivered to my house tomorrow morning?)
“Sí, por supuesto. Y/N, ¿podrías encargarte de la entrega?” Carmen asked you with a gentle smile. (Yes, of course. Y/N, would you be able to handle the delivery?)
You forced a polite smile and nodded. “Of course,” you replied, feeling Alexia’s gaze linger on you. She beamed, giving you a subtle, mischievous wink that made your heart skip a beat.
“¡Genial! Entonces, Carmen, te enviaré un mensaje con los detalles más tarde, ¿está bien?” Alexia said her tone almost triumphant as she looked at Carmen. (Great! Then, Carmen, I’ll send you a message with the details later, okay?)
“¡Claro!” Carmen replied warmly, handing back the flowers and Alexia’s change. (Of course.)
“Nos vemos mañana,” Alexia said with a lingering, teasing smile and blowing you a kiss before turning to leave. (See you tomorrow.)
Her smile promised more than just a casual encounter.
Carmen watched her go and then turned to you with a knowing grin.
“Please, don’t,” you said, shaking your head as you walked away, hearing Carmen’s amused chuckle behind you.
——
“Mommy?” Your daughter’s voice piped up during dinner, catching your attention.
“Yes, darling?” You looked up from your meal, focusing on her earnest face.
“One day, can I come to your work with you? I really want to see the pretty flowers,” she asked, her large eyes full of hope and excitement.
“I’ll have to ask Carmen about that first,” you said, and her eyes lit up with a bright smile.
“So that means it’s a yes, right? Because Carmen loves me so much. She always tells me she loves me,” she said, her grin widening as she swung her legs under the table.
“Of course, Carmen adores you. It’s impossible not to with how adorable you are,” you said, reaching over to gently squeeze her cheek.
You planted a series of soft, playful kisses on her cheek, making her giggle uncontrollably.
——
“Alright, it’s here,” you muttered to yourself as you arrived at Alexia’s apartment with her flower delivery.
She had ordered three large bouquets—two of red roses and one of white roses.
You knocked on the door, but there was no response. After waiting several minutes, you tried again, this time rapping more insistently. Still, silence.
Growing increasingly frustrated and determined, you delivered one last, resolute knock.
After a few more minutes, Alexia finally opened the door, looking slightly breathless and dressed only in a sports bra and shorts.
“Hola, guapa. Sorry for the wait, I was… busy. Please, come in,” she said with an inviting smile, opening the door wider as you stepped inside.
“Here. You can put them on the kitchen table,” she gestured to a white table.
“Were you working out?” you asked, noting her sweaty appearance and minimal attire.
She smirked, her confidence barely contained. “You could say that. Just working on my cardio.”
You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander over her defined abs and the tattooed elegance of her back. She was stunning, a vision of physical perfection.
Your admiration was interrupted by the sound of voices. Turning around, you saw two tall and impossibly beautiful women, one brunette and one blonde emerging from a room. They looked like they could be models.
“Damas,” Alexia said, her voice dripping with satisfaction, “tuve una noche y mañana increíble con ambas” as she handed them the red rose bouquets. (Ladies,I had an amazing night and morning with both of you)
The brunette woman leaned in first, her lips brushing against Alexia's in a soft, lingering kiss.
Afterward, the blonde woman approached, her kiss equally tender, adding to the intimate exchange.
You couldn’t help but cringe at the sight, the display of affection feeling overly intimate and uncomfortable.
Alexia escorted them to the door, bidding them farewell with playful pats and a cheeky slap on each of their butts.
You once again cringed at the sight.
Once Alexia closed the door, she turned back to you with a smug, challenging grin.
“Can you please pay so I can get back to work?” you said, trying to keep your tone steady but feeling your frustration simmering.
“Yes, of course,but first I a gift for you” Alexia replied,she walked over to the kitchen table, picked up the bouquet of white roses, and handed them to you with an almost mocking flourish.
You raised an eyebrow, feeling a surge of annoyance. “I don’t want it,” you said flatly.
Alexia’s smirk didn’t waver. “Fine. I’ll just give it to the girl I’m seeing tonight.”
“Yeah, do that. Now, please pay,so I can go back to work” you insisted, your patience wearing thin.
“Don’t you want to relax a bit? There’s a couch over there, or maybe something more comfortable—like my bed?” she teased, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.
“That’s why you wanted the flowers delivered? To lure me into your bed?” you snapped, your anger boiling over.
“Maybe,” she said, her tone smug and unrepentant, and that was the breaking point.
“So, you had me deliver these flowers, made me wait outside while you were fucking two women, and now you’re trying to bribe me with a bouquet to get me into bed?” you demanded, your voice rising with each word.
“Exactly,” she said, her demeanor unshaken. “I wanted to show you that I can have any women I want. I just had an incredible night with two women. No one can resist me, so why do you?”
You were fuming, your words coming out sharp and hurtful. “"Listen closely, Alexia, because I’m only going to say this once. I would never sleep someone like you. You’re selfish, arrogant, and unbearably overconfident. You think no one can resist you because of your looks or your celebrity status, but that’s a mistake. People are drawn to the idea of being with a celebrity, not to you as a person. They use you just as you use them. You’re nothing more than a lonely woman who sleeps around because you lack meaningful connections. Your allure may attract attention, but it’s clear you have no real relationships. You’re just filling a void, and that’s not something I’d ever want to be a part of. You are pathetic.”
You locked eyes with her, every word stinging. “Stay away from me.”
Alexia’s expression shifted from smug to shocked, her face falling. Her eyes glistened with hurt as she stared at the floor.
“Um…okay… voy a buscar mi billetera. Vuelvo enseguida.” she murmured, her voice trembling slightly as she turned away quickly. (I’m just going to get my wallet. I’ll be right back)
As you watched Alexia turn away, a pang of regret began to sink in. You realized that your outburst might have been fueled more by your unresolved feelings about your ex than by anything Alexia had done.
The way she carried herself, her bravado, and her seeming lack of genuine connections struck a nerve, bringing your past frustrations to the surface.
You could see how your words might have been more a reflection of your own pain and disillusionment than a fair judgment of her.
Even though some of what you said was truthful, the intensity of your anger revealed how deeply you were affected by your own experiences.
Alexia returned with the payment, handing it to you with a subdued “You can keep the change.” Her voice was soft, her usual confidence replaced by a vulnerable quietness.
You took the money, nodding curtly. Without another word, you turned and left her apartment, heading back to the flower shop with a heavy heart.
——
For three days, Alexia hadn’t shown up to the store, and the gnawing guilt was becoming harder to ignore.
You tried not to dwell on it, but it lingered in the back of your mind. The shop felt quieter without her presence, and the longer the silence stretched, the more you felt the weight of your actions. You knew it wasn’t just a coincidence—your outburst had driven her away.
Carmen noticed it too. On the third day, as the two of you were arranging flowers for a new display, she finally spoke up.
“Has Alexia said anything to you?” she asked, her voice carrying a hint of worry.
You shook your head, not wanting to meet her eyes. “No… Why?”
“It’s just strange, isn’t it? Alexia not coming by for this long, especially when she’s still in Barcelona. It’s… odd,” she said, glancing at you carefully.
You felt a wave of guilt wash over you. Carmen was right—Alexia had been a regular at the shop, her visits frequent and, despite her cocky attitude, somewhat predictable.
You tried to focus on the flowers in your hand, but the words hung heavy on your tongue.
“Did something happen?” Carmen asked softly, her voice more knowing than questioning.
At first, you tried to brush it off. “Nothing happened,” you mumbled, but Carmen raised an eyebrow, her gaze unwavering. You sighed, knowing there was no point in lying.
“Alright… something did happen,” you admitted, setting the flowers down. Carmen leaned in slightly, her attention fully on you.
“She’s been… acting a certain way ever since I met her. You know, making these dirty jokes, flirting nonstop, doing things to get a reaction out of me.” You hesitated, unsure if you should tell her the rest, but Carmen waited patiently.
“She—uh—made out with someone in front of me while staring right at me,” you continued, feeling the irritation rise again as you remembered that morning. “But it wasn’t just that. When I went to her apartment for her flowers delivery, there were these two women at her apartment. She made me wait outside while she was… busy with them. Then she gave me some stupid roses, trying to get me to sleep with her.” The words spilled out faster now. “That’s when I snapped.”
Carmen looked shocked, her brows furrowing in surprise. “And what did you say?”
You hesitated again, but Carmen gave you an encouraging nod, so you told her the whole truth. “I basically told her she was selfish, cocky, and overconfident. That people only used her because she’s a celebrity, and she’s just a lonely woman who sleeps around because she has no real connections.” As the words came out, you cringed, realizing just how harsh they had been.
Carmen stared at you for a moment, processing everything. Then, she let out a soft sigh, shaking her head. “Wow… that’s… a lot,” she said slowly. “I understand why you blew up, honestly, with how she was acting. Alexia can be… well, a little much. But those words?” Carmen hesitated, glancing at you sympathetically. “I think they might’ve hurt her more than you realize.”
You scoffed lightly, though not out of amusement. “Hurt her? Carmen, she was literally flaunting two women in my face like it was some kind of power move.”
“I know, I know,” Carmen replied gently, “and that’s exactly why I think she was hurt. Look, Alexia may put on this big, confident show, but I’ve known her for a while. Underneath all of that, she’s a lot more sensitive than she lets on.”
You frowned, processing Carmen’s words. “She didn’t seem too sensitive when she was throwing those women in my face.”
“She’s hiding behind it,” Carmen said, shrugging slightly. “People act like that when they’re trying to protect themselves. Not saying it excuses her behavior, but it explains it. She’s not used to people seeing past the surface.”
You slumped against the counter, feeling torn between your anger and guilt. “I don’t know… maybe I took it too far. She just reminded me so much of my ex. It’s like I wasn’t just yelling at her, but at him too.”
Carmen smiled softly, her eyes warm with understanding. “Ah, now we’re getting somewhere. Look, I get it. Sometimes old wounds can make us lash out at the wrong people. Alexia just happened to push the wrong buttons.”
You sighed heavily, running a hand through your hair. “What should I do? I can’t just pretend nothing happened.”
Carmen chuckled softly, patting your shoulder. “I’d say maybe you owe her a conversation. But don’t be too hard on yourself. You’re both adults, and you’ll figure it out. Trust me, Alexia’s tough, but she’s not as unbreakable as she pretends to be.”
She gave you a playful nudge and added with a smirk, “Besides, you know what they say about love and hate, right? Sometimes they’re closer than you think.”
You rolled your eyes at Carmen’s teasing, but deep down, her words gave you a lot to think about.
——
Two days after your conversation with Carmen, Alexia finally made her reappearance.
You were busy assisting a couple of clients when, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed her walk into the shop.
She carried a bouquet of flowers in her hand, and for a brief moment, the world outside your conversation with the clients seemed to fade away.
The air felt heavier with her presence, but at the same time, the absence of the usual playful energy she brought with her was unmistakable.
The store had felt quieter without her, and the weight of the silence between you two was something you could no longer ignore.
You had driven her away. That much was clear.
You noticed Alexia standing by the counter, her eyes fixed on you.There was none of her usual cocky confidence.
Her posture was more reserved, even hesitant. When you finished with the clients and they finally left, it was just the two of you in the shop, the tension thick in the air.
She took a step closer, her movements slower than usual. “Hola, guapa,” she greeted softly, her voice noticeably different.
Gone was the teasing arrogance you had grown accustomed to. Instead, it was quiet, almost vulnerable.
“Hola,” you replied, matching her tone. You weren’t sure what to expect from her, but this... this wasn’t it.
She handed you the bouquet—blue hyacinths. The flowers of apology. Alexia had remembered.
“These are for you. I... I wanted to apologize for how I acted. What I did was wrong, and I’m really sorry,” she said, holding your gaze, her eyes filled with sincerity.
You took the flowers, their fragrance soft and delicate, but their meaning hit you harder. “Thank you, Alexia. I, um, I need to apologize too. My words that day were... I shouldn’t have said all of that. I was just really angry and—” You began to ramble, but Alexia gently interrupted you.
“No, don’t apologize,” she said, shaking her head. “You had every right to be upset. I made you wait, wasted your time, and I... pushed you too far. I’ve been making things difficult for you since day one. I made you crazy, though not exactly the way I hoped,” she added with a light laugh, trying to keep things casual. But as soon as the words left her lips, she grimaced, regretting the joke.
Before she could apologize for that too, you smiled—a small, genuine smile.
Alexia froze for a second, her eyes widening in disbelief. “What?” you asked, confused by her reaction.
“You smiled,” she repeated softly, her voice a mixture of awe and surprise.
You raised an eyebrow. “And?”
“Nunca sonríes. Bueno... no hacia mí, de todos modos. Así que sí, estoy un poco sorprendida en este momento,” she said, as if it was the most mind-blowing revelation she’d ever had. (You never smile. Well... not at me, anyway. So, yeah, I’m kind of shocked right now)
You couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh my god, Alexia, you’re ridiculous.”
But Alexia’s expression softened even more, her eyes full of warmth as she watched you laugh.
“And now you’re laughing too? Wow, a smile and a laugh in the same conversation? I must be the luckiest person alive,” she said, playfully over-exaggerating her excitement.
“You’re being ridiculous,” you said again, though your heart wasn’t in it. Instead, you were secretly touched by her joy over such a small thing.
You brought the bouquet to your nose, inhaling the sweet fragrance as you studied her face.
Alexia’s gaze softened even further. “You have a beautiful smile, you know that?” she said quietly, the sincerity in her words catching you off guard.
You felt your cheeks warm under her compliment, and you quickly shook your head. “Alright, let’s not push your luck,” you said, still smiling despite yourself.
Alexia’s nervousness seemed to ease at your reaction, and she hesitated for a moment before holding out her hand. “So... am I forgiven?”
You pretended to consider it, watching the subtle anxiety creep back into her expression. Finally, you nodded. “You’re forgiven.”
A visible sigh of relief washed over her as she pumped her fist in a small victory. “Yes!” she whispered under her breath, her joy almost contagious.
She then extended her hand to you, a playful glint in her eye. “Dado que estoy perdonada, creo que deberíamos empezar de nuevo. Una pizarra limpia, ¿sí?” (Since I’m forgiven, I think we should start over. Clean slate, si?)
You blinked, surprised at her gesture, but after a brief moment, you took her hand in yours. Her grip was firm but gentle, her skin warm and soft. “Alright,” you agreed, amused by the formality of it all. “I’m Y/N, nice to meet you.”
“Soy Alexia,” she said with a grin, shaking your hand like it was the first time you’d ever met. “Encantada, Y/N.”
The absurdity of the moment made you both smile. It was corny, yes, but endearing in a way you hadn’t expected.
For a brief second, as you shook hands, you found yourself getting lost in her hazel eyes. There was a softness there, a vulnerability you hadn’t seen before.
She wasn’t just the flirtatious, cocky woman you had met. She was... more. And for the first time, you found yourself truly seeing her.
Before anything could be said, the sound of Carmen entering the shop snapped you both back to reality.
You quickly let go of Alexia’s hand, almost like you had been caught doing something you shouldn’t have.
“¡Ahh, Alexia! ¡Has vuelto!” Carmen exclaimed, pulling Alexia into a warm hug. (Aahh, Alexia! You’re back!)
Alexia returned the embrace, though she shot you a sheepish smile over Carmen’s shoulder.
When they broke apart, Carmen affectionately pinched Alexia’s cheek before pulling her head down, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Era hora, niña. La tienda ha estado demasiado tranquila sin ti provocando problemas.” (It’s about time, niña. The shop’s been too quiet without you stirring up trouble.)
Carmen’s eyes flicked to the flowers in your hand, and she raised an eyebrow at Alexia. “Hmm, jacintos azules. Buena elección” she remarked, giving Alexia a playful pat on the back before disappearing into the back room. (Hmm, blue hyacinths. Good choice)
Alexia laughed nervously, rubbing the back of her neck.
You smirked at her, your eyebrow raised. “So... did you cheat on us and go to another flower shop to buy these?”
Alexia’s laugh was light as she shook her head. “No way. I bought them here, I swear, you were not here. I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a cheater,” she joked, her voice playful yet sincere.
For some reason, you believed her. As flirtatious and free-spirited as she was, Alexia didn’t seem like the type who would betray someone’s trust.
That thought settled something inside you. You found yourself smiling again as you looked at her, the distance between you both feeling much smaller now.
——
From that moment, things between you and Alexia shifted. While her flirting persisted, it became less cocky or overconfident, but still very much her.
But became a little more softer and kinder, making you laugh instead of feeling irritated. Carmen had been right; Alexia could be genuinely sweet when she chose to be.
You never mentioned your daughter to Alexia, thinking it best to keep that part of your life separate.
If your daughter knew you were in contact with her idol daily, she’d beg to come along. Besides, despite Alexia’s more bearable demeanor, you wouldn’t want your daughter around her.
Alexia’s habit of seeing a different girl each day remained unchanged, but each time you saw her with someone new or flirting, a pang of jealousy twisted in your stomach.
One day at the store, it was just you and Alexia. She was recounting her morning training session, and the conversation flowed effortlessly.
At one point, you were telling Alexia a very interesting story. Alexia was hanging on to every word, her focus entirely on you, until the door swung open and a strikingly tall brunette entered the store.
Alexia’s gaze snapped away from you, her head turning to follow the woman’s entrance. She was instantly fixated, her attention now fully captured by the newcomer.
The woman greeted both of you, her gaze lingering a bit longer on Alexia. Seeing that Alexia had completely shifted her attention, you sighed and stopped speaking.
You resumed your task, trimming the thorns off the roses. Meanwhile, Alexia continued to stare at the woman, her eyes practically devouring her.
You walked out from behind the counter to put the roses on display, and only then did Alexia seem to realize you were still there.
“Ay, Y/N, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention. Please, tell me the end of your story,” she said, following you with an apologetic look.
You sighed, trying to downplay your irritation. The shift in Alexia’s focus from you to the beautiful woman stung more than you expected. “It’s okay. You can go talk to her,” you said, avoiding eye contact.
Alexia hesitated, clearly feeling guilty. “No, really, I want to hear the end of your story,” she insisted, her gaze flickering back to the woman who was still eyeing her.
Were you jealous? Maybe a little but you had been through similar situations before and were determined not to fall into the same trap. Protecting your heart was crucial.
Despite enjoying Alexia’s company lately, you felt it was wiser to keep things minimal and friendly, especially with the feelings you were grappling with.
“No, it’s fine. Go talk to her,” you said, walking away.
Alexia, although still feeling bad, couldn’t resist and moved toward the woman.
From your position at the register, you watched as Alexia approached her with a wide smile.
You saw them chatting, smiling, and occasionally touching each other’s arms. Each gesture twisted your stomach with unease.
Eventually, as you were counting the register’s money, Alexia and the woman came back to you. The woman greeted you again, and you felt Alexia’s eyes on you, but you focused on the woman instead.
“Serán 12 euros, por favor” you told her. Before she could reach for her wallet, Alexia placed her hand over the woman’s, stopping her. (That will be 12 euros, please)
“Está bien, cariño. Yo me encargo” Alexia said, her smile gentle as she handed you the money. The woman thanked Alexia with a kiss on the cheek, making you roll your eyes mentally. (It’s okay, cariño. I’ve got it)
You accepted the money and then gave Alexia her change, avoiding her attempts at eye contact.
The woman thanked you and prepared to leave but then turned back to Alexia. “¿Podrías esperar afuera unos minutos? Ya salgo” she said, smiling. Alexia nodded and watched her leave. (Could you wait outside for a few minutes? I’ll be right out)
Alexia turned back to you, remaining silent. You looked up. “What?” you asked, confused.
“What’s the end of your story?” Alexia asked, clearly eager to know how it concluded.
You sighed. “Alexia, the girl’s waiting for you,” you said, not looking at her.
“But I want to know the end!” she said, almost pleading, her tone earnest and insistent.
“Well, you would have known if you had been listening in the first place,” you replied, your voice carrying a note of frustration.
Alexia fell silent for a moment. “I’m really sorry, I just got… distracted,” she said, her gaze drifting toward the glass door where the woman was waiting.
“Yeah, I know,” you said flatly. Alexia remained silent, and your patience wore thin. “Alexia, can you go now? The girl’s waiting, and I have a lot of work to do,” you said, exasperated.
Alexia bit her lip, looking at you as if you had done something cruel. “Yes, I’ll go. I’m sorry,” she said.
She walked toward the front door, glancing back one last time before leaving.
Once she was gone, you let out a deep breath. Damn it, you were jealous that Alexia was going out with another woman. This couldn’t be happening, you were attracted to her.
——
“Absolutely, Mia can come to the store!” Carmen responded, her voice full of warmth and enthusiasm after you mentioned the possibility of Mia joining you at work.
“Thank you so much, Carmen! She’s going to be ecstatic. She’s been asking me nonstop about it,” you said, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.
And that was the truth—Mia had been relentless, pestering you every day with the same question. You’d been avoiding giving her a straight answer, constantly making excuses.
Mostly because of Alexia, who also frequented the store daily, and you knew it was only a matter of time before the two crossed paths.
As you and Carmen continued chatting, Alexia walked into the store, just as she always did. She approached Carmen first, who was standing closer, greeting her with a soft “Hola” and two kisses on the cheek, as was her custom.
Then, something unexpected happened. Alexia moved toward you, her eyes locking onto yours, and for the first time, she greeted you the same way, leaning in to give you two kisses on the cheek.
She had never done this before—usually, it was just a simple “Hola guapa” paired with her usual soft yet cocky smile.
“Hola guapa,” she said, her familiar words bringing a sense of comfort.
“Hola,” you responded, managing a smile, feeling the last remnants of nerves from yesterday dissolve the closer she got.
She was standing so near to you, her height forcing you to slightly tilt your head up to meet her gaze.
“How are you?” she asked softly, her voice holding a gentleness that made your heart skip for a moment.
“I’m good, and you?” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. You hated to admit it, but having her so close made you feel something—safe, but also a little flustered.
“Bien,” she said, pressing her lips together as an awkward silence started to settle between the two of you. You shifted slightly, unsure of what to say next. (Good)
Finally, you broke the silence. “Did you have fun with that girl last night?” you asked, a teasing smile tugging at your lips, hoping to lighten the mood.
Alexia’s smile faltered for a split second, and she hesitated before answering, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Um... no.”
Her answer took you by surprise, and you furrowed your brow in confusion. “No?” you repeated, not expecting that.
“No,” she said again, this time more firmly but still quiet. Her eyes flickered with something—guilt, maybe? You weren’t sure.
“Did you find someone better then?” you joked, raising an eyebrow with a playful smirk, trying to coax her back into her usual lighthearted mood.
But instead of laughing, her expression grew more serious. “No,” she whispered, and this time, her voice carried a weight that made you pause. “En realidad... me sentí muy culpable por lo que pasó ayer” (Actually... I felt really guilty about what happened yesterday)
You blinked, caught off guard by her sudden shift in tone. “Guilty?” you repeated, the word hanging in the air between you two.
Alexia nodded, her gaze dropping momentarily before she looked back up at you, her eyes soft and sincere.
“About..you know..ignoring you yesterday,” she said gently. “I was out of line. I let myself get carried away,I let my... urges take over,” she continued, her voice trembling slightly. “I’m really sorry. I know it probably hurt you, and that was never my intention.”
You stood there, processing her words, feeling the sincerity behind them. She wasn’t just apologizing; she was genuinely remorseful. You could see it in the way her eyes softened, the way her voice lowered with each sentence.
But despite her heartfelt apology, you hesitated. You weren’t sure if you could just forgive her so easily, not this time. It wasn’t the first time Alexia had done something impulsive, and you didn’t want to keep brushing it off like it was nothing.
“Alexia...” you started, unsure of how to continue. You bit your lip, avoiding her gaze for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts.
She took a small step closer, her expression pleading now. “Please, Y/N, I’m really sorry,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I wasn’t thinking straight. You know me, sometimes I just act without thinking, but I would never want to hurt you.”
You sighed, crossing your arms as you weighed her words. “I get that, Alexia, but this isn’t the first time,” you said, meeting her eyes again. “You can’t keep doing things and expecting me to just... forgive you right away.”
She swallowed, her eyes glistening as if the weight of your words hit her hard. “I know... I know, and I hate that I keep messing things up between us. But please... this time, I mean it. I’ll be better. I promise.”
There was a long pause, both of you standing in the soft light of the store, the usual chatter and bustle around you fading into the background as you considered her words.
Finally, you sighed, shaking your head a little, feeling your resolve begin to waver. “It’s not that easy, Alexia. You can’t just say sorry and expect everything to be okay. I need to know you really mean it this time.”
“I do,” she insisted, her voice breaking slightly. “I swear to you, I’ll make it up to you. Just... give me one more chance, please.”
Another long pause. You could see the desperation in her eyes, the way her shoulders slumped slightly as if she was afraid you might walk away from her for good.
“Fine,” you finally said, though your voice was softer now. “But this is the last time, Alexia. I mean it. If you mess up again, that’s it. I won’t keep forgiving you.”
Alexia’s face lit up with a mix of relief and joy, and before you could react, she squealed and wrapped her arms around you, lifting you off the ground slightly. You let out a small squeal of surprise, not expecting her to hug you so tightly.
“Thank you, thank you!” she cried, setting you back down but not letting go just yet. “I swear, it’ll be the last time I do something stupid. I promise.”
You couldn’t help but smile, though you tried to hide it. “The last time, Alexia,” you warned, pointing a finger at her sternly.
She nodded eagerly. “Yes, yes, the last time,” she repeated, still grinning. Then she gave you a pleading look.
“Now, will you finally finish the story you were telling me yesterday? I’ve been dying to hear the end.”
Just as you were about to tell her, the door chimed and a few customers entered the store. Carmen shot you a knowing look, subtly signaling for your attention.
“Another time,” you said with a sigh, gently patting Alexia’s cheek before walking away. “Work calls.”
Alexia watched you go, her eyes following your every move, and a huge smile spread across her face.
But as she stood there, a strange feeling stirred in her stomach. Something unfamiliar, something she couldn’t quite place.
She shook her head, brushing off the sensation as nothing more than hunger. With a shrug, she pulled out her burner phone, scrolling through her contacts before texting one of the many girls in her phone, asking if they wanted to come over later.
——
“Are you excited to spend the day with Mommy?” you asked your daughter as you walked to the store one morning.
“Yes!” she cheered, bouncing with excitement.
Some days had passed since Alexia’s latest apology, but things had remained mostly the same.
She continued to visit the store every day, buying flowers for whichever woman she was with at the time.
Her flirtation remained gentle and tender, but something had shifted, though you couldn’t quite pinpoint what.
She frequently complimented your looks, outfits, and hairstyles, which you appreciated, even though it was rare for her to show this side of herself.
Despite this, she still made occasional risqué jokes about her various partners—and even you.
Two days ago, Alexia had been recounting a dinner she went to with friends and handed you her phone to show you pictures of the restaurant and the food. Unfortunately, she opened the “wrong album.”
You were shocked to see numerous pictures of naked women and nearly threw the phone back at her.
Alexia looked puzzled at your reaction but quickly masked it with a smirk as she glanced at her phone.
She began scrolling through the explicit pictures again, her eyes glinting with amusement.
Biting her lip, she seemed to savor the memories associated with each image, a mischievous gleam in her eyes as she relived the moments she had captured.
“This is my special album,” she said with a teasing bite of her lip. “When I’m traveling and feeling lonely in a hotel room, it’s nice to have some… interesting pictures to look at.”
You made a face of disgust.
She leaned in, smirking. “Por favor, no me digas que nunca has enviado o recibido fotos como estas.” she teased, resting her chin on her hand as she propped her elbow on the counter. (Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’ve never sent or received pictures like these)
“That’s none of your business,” you said, feeling your face flush.
“Oooh, you didn’t deny it, and your face is all red. You’ve definitely sent some,” she said with excitement.
With a cocky grin, she added, “I can’t wait to add yours to this album. It would make it so much more interesting…and beautiful.”
You looked at her in disgust and gently pushed her face away with your hand.
“In your dreams,” you said, smiling despite yourself. Over time, her flirting and joking were becoming less bothersome.
“You know what they say: never give up on your dreams,” Alexia said smugly. “Y me conoces lo suficientemente bien como para saber que nunca lo haría. Si lo hiciera, no sería la mejor futbolista del mundo.” (And you know me well enough to know that I never do. If I did, I wouldn’t be the best woman footballer in the world)
You shook your head, amused.
“I can’t wait to see all the pretty flowers, Mommy!” Mia’s excitement was palpable as she bounced on her little feet, her eyes wide with anticipation. You looked down at her, your heart warmed by her enthusiasm.
You had chosen this particular day for Mia to accompany you, carefully planning to avoid a potential encounter with Alexia.
Alexia had informed you the day before that she would be away from the store due to a demanding schedule of training, interviews, and a photoshoot.
You knew that if Mia were to see Alexia, she might freak out since she’s basically her hero.
While Alexia was known to be good with kids—something you’d observed in several videos—her frequent appearances with new partners and her tendency to be very touchy and affectionate in public could have made the situation awkward for Mia.
Your daughter’s inquisitive nature would surely lead to a barrage of questions, which you wanted to avoid.
“This time, I want to pick my flower of the week, Mommy, okay?” Mia asked, stretching her arms up towards you, signaling that she wanted to be picked up.
“Of course, sweetheart,” you responded with a soft smile, bending down to scoop her up. She nestled her head against your shoulder as you lifted her, her small arms wrapping around your neck.
You could feel the warmth of her little body and the soft rustle of her breath against your skin.
Together, you made your way to the store, ready to enjoy a day filled with flowers and moments of bonding, free from the concerns that Alexia might have brought.
——
“Mia, would you like to help me put the flowers in the pot?” Carmen’s voice was warm and inviting.
“Yes!” Mia responded immediately, her excitement evident as she bounded off with Carmen.
You couldn’t help but chuckle at her enthusiasm as they disappeared around the corner, heading towards the back of the store.
The morning had been smooth and joyful. Mia had been gleefully exploring the shop, sniffing flowers and marveling at their colors. There had been no tantrums—a welcome relief—and you’d promised her she’ll be back at the store if she continued to behave so well.
As you worked on arranging bouquets for display, the bell above the front door jingled, signaling a new customer.
Looking up, your heart nearly stopped when you saw Alexia walk in. But she wasn’t alone—she had her arm casually draped around another woman, a relaxed smile on her face.
“Hola, guapa,” Alexia greeted you, approaching the counter. She momentarily released the woman to give you a quick kiss on both cheeks before resuming her hold around the woman’s neck.
Panic flared in your chest. “What are you doing here?” you asked, trying to keep your tone calm but failing to mask the urgency. Your eyes darted towards the back of the store, hoping Mia was still preoccupied.
Alexia’s eyebrow arched, catching your unease. “Is that how you greet me now?” she teased with a playful smirk. “Oh, and this is Isabel,” she said, introducing the woman. “Isabel, ella es Y/N.” (Isabel, this is Y/N)
You forced a polite smile at Isabel, offering a quick nod before turning back to Alexia. “You said you wouldn’t be here today. You said you will be busy all day.”
Alexia chuckled, clearly amused by your flustered state. “Plans changed. My photoshoot was canceled, so I thought I’d drop by and visit my two favorite flower girls.” She winked at you, trying to keep the gesture hidden from Isabel. “Where’s Carmen?”
Your heart raced. “She’s not here—she’s out on a delivery,” you lied quickly, hoping to get Alexia to leave. You were certain she would linger if she found out Carmen was still around.
Alexia gave you a curious look but shrugged. “Alright then...”
“Right, well, it was nice seeing you, and Isabel, fue un placer conocerte.” you said, trying to wrap things up. “I’m sure you have other plans.” (Isabel, it was lovely meeting you)
Alexia’s eyes narrowed with playful suspicion. “You’re acting strange. Are you trying to kick us out?” she asked with a grin.
“No, no, it’s just... you know, I’m sure you both have things to do,” you replied, glancing over her shoulder towards the back of the store again.
Alexia’s smirk didn’t fade. “Yeah, we do,” she agreed, looked down at Isabel.
She gave Isabel’s shoulder a gentle squeeze before intertwining their fingers and gently kissing the crown of her head.
A pang of discomfort hit you at the sight, but before you could react further, the sound of Mia’s voice cut through the tension.
“Mommy!”
You closed your eyes briefly, wishing you could rewind, you were so close…
When you opened them, Mia was rushing towards you, her small hands proudly holding a flower.
“Mommy, look! I found my flower of the week” Mia exclaimed, stopping right beside Alexia and Isabel, her face beaming with pride as she showed off her flower.
Everything seemed to slow down as Alexia’s gaze fell upon the tiny figure next to her. Her expression shifted dramatically from casual amusement to shock, her eyes widening and her mouth falling open.
It was as if she had been struck by a sudden realization.
Her voice was barely above a whisper when she spoke. “Mommy?” she asked, her tone full of disbelief. “Tienes una hija?” Her words were tinged with a mix of surprise and confusion, as if the idea of you having a child was completely foreign to her. (You have a daughter?)
You nodded, feeling a lump in your throat.
Mia, oblivious to the undercurrent of tension, suddenly shouted in recognition, “Alexia!” Her high-pitched voice echoed through the store as she threw herself at Alexia’s legs, hugging them tightly.
Alexia stood frozen, her shock palpable as she looked down at Mia clinging to her. Her usual composure was replaced by a look of utter bewilderment.
“I love you so much! You’re the best player in the whole world!” Mia declared, her tiny arms wrapped around Alexia’s legs.
Alexia’s expression softened at Mia’s affection. Though still stunned, there was a growing tenderness in her eyes.
Slowly, she reached down, placing her hand gently on the back of Mia’s head and stroking her hair. “Thank you,” she said softly, still grappling with the surprise.
You stepped in and carefully pried Mia away from Alexia’s legs, lifting her onto your hip.
Despite Mia’s tight grip, you managed to ease her into your arms, hoping to shield her from the awkwardness of the situation.
“Mommy, look, it’s Alexia! We see her on TV when she plays her games!” Mia said excitedly, pointing at Alexia, who remained visibly shaken.
Alexia’s gaze turned to you, her eyes searching for answers. The realization that you had kept such a significant part of your life from her was evident in the way she stared, her expression a mix of hurt and confusion.
“What’s your name, pequeña?” Alexia asked Mia gently, her disbelief still evident.
“Mia!” your daughter responded enthusiastically.
Alexia offered a strained smile. “Nice to meet you, Mia. I’m a friend of your mommy’s.”
Mia gasped and turned to you with wide eyes. “Mommy, you never told me Alexia was your friend!”
Alexia gave a quiet chuckle, though her gaze remained fixed on you. “Y tampoco me contó nada sobre ti.” she added in Spanish, hoping that you daughter does not understand, her tone more serious now. The subtle accusation in her words was clear, despite her attempt at a smile. (And she never told me about you either)
Sensing the tension, Mia pointed to the intertwined hands of Alexia and Isabel. “Is that your girlfriend?” she asked innocently.
Your face flushed with embarrassment. “Mia...” you began, but Alexia merely laughed, her discomfort evident.
“Mia, it’s not polite to ask those questions,” you said gently but firmly.
“Sorry, Mommy... Sorry, Alexia,” Mia pouted, quickly shifting her focus to something else. “Did you hurt yourself?” she asked Alexia with concern.
Alexia looked puzzled. “No, why?”
Mia pointed to her own neck. “You have a bruise here,” she said matter-of-factly.
Your heart sank as you noticed the hickey on Alexia’s neck. Her eyes widened, and she quickly covered it with her hand, her cheeks flushing slightly.
“Oh, that? Yeah, I... got hurt playing,” Alexia mumbled, clearly flustered. Isabel, standing silently beside her, smirked at the scene.
You suspected Isabel might not understand the full conversation but clearly grasped what was happening right in this instance.
Mia nodded solemnly. “You need to be more careful, Alexia. Right, Mommy?”
You couldn’t help but smile at Mia’s concern, which mirrored your own words of caution. “Yes, sweetheart. Alexia needs to be more careful.”
Alexia met your gaze, understanding the underlying message. She gave a small nod, acknowledging the reprimand.
“You’re right, Mia. I’ll be more careful,” Alexia said, her tone softening as she pinched Mia’s cheek, eliciting a giggle from your daughter.
The moment of levity was short-lived as an uncomfortable silence settled over the group.
Mia, in her innocent way, suddenly blurted out, “Mommy says you’re hot!”
Your face flushed with embarrassment at Mia’s remark.
Alexia’s smirk widened, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Oh, really?” she teased, clearly enjoying your discomfort.
While watching a game on TV with Mia the other day, you might have commented that Alexia looked "hot" when she appeared on screen, noting her sweaty, glistening skin, messy hair, and visible abs, completely forgetting that Mia was nearby and could hear you.
You felt your face grow even warmer. “Mia, that’s not... what I meant,” you stammered, but Mia continued, oblivious to the embarrassment she was causing.
“You said it when we were watching her game, Mommy. You said, ‘Oh my god, she’s so hot,’” Mia mimicked your tone perfectly, making you wish you could disappear.
Alexia’s smirk grew, clearly relishing the moment. “Well, I guess I should be flattered,” she said playfully, enjoying your discomfort.
“I meant... you were playing really well,” you said, trying to explain, but Alexia wasn’t letting it go easily.
“Oh, is that what you meant?” Alexia’s teasing tone only heightened your embarrassment.
Before you could respond, Mia added, “Mommy, does that mean Alexia needs to take her clothes off since she’s hot?”
You groaned inwardly, your face now burning with mortification. “Mia! No, that’s not what I meant at all,” you said, your voice rising as you struggled to regain control.
Alexia tried to stifle her laughter. “It’s okay, Mia. I’m fine just the way I am,” she said, winking at your daughter, which only added to your embarrassment.
Clearing your throat, you tried to redirect the conversation. “Alright, Mia, say goodbye to Alexia. She has things to do, and you need to get back to Carmen.”
Alexia’s brow furrowed. “So Carmen is here? Not on a delivery?” she asked, realizing you had lied.
“Yeah…” you admitted, and Alexia nodded, accepting it.
Mia reached out her arms towards Alexia, who looked at you for permission. You nodded, and Alexia took her in her arms.
Mia gave Alexia a warm farewell hug, her small arms encircling her. “Goodbye, Alexia. And goodbye to Alexia’s girlfriend,” she added, waving at Isabel, who responded with a courteous smile.
You let out a sigh, reflecting on the unintended label Mia had given Isabel.
As Mia turned and ran back towards Carmen, Alexia’s expression shifted from playful to serious.
She turned to you, her eyes lingering with unspoken questions. “We’ll talk tomorrow,please come to my place..you know where it is” she said softly, the weight of her words evident in her tone.
You nodded, feeling the gravity of the conversation that awaited you. There was a lot left unsaid, especially now that Mia’s existence was no longer a secret.
As Alexia and Isabel left the store, you let out a long, weary sigh. You leaned against the counter, feeling emotionally drained from the unexpected turn of events. Tomorrow’s conversation with Alexia loomed large, and you knew it would be a challenging discussion.
And, of course, you’d need to have a talk with Mia about the importance of boundaries—and perhaps a bit about keeping some things to herself as well.
——
The next morning, you headed to Alexia’s apartment with Mia in tow. Since it was a Sunday, María was off, and Carmen was visiting family, you had no option but to bring Mia along.
When you told Mia about the visit, she was ecstatic and insisted on wearing the Alexia jersey you had bought her a few weeks ago. She proudly put it on, her excitement evident.
As you arrived at Alexia’s door, you crouched down to Mia’s level. “Okay, Mia,” you began gently, “let’s remember to behave today, alright?” Mia’s face lit up as she nodded eagerly. “Yes, Mommy, I’ll behave,” she promised, and you planted a soft kiss on her forehead.
With a mix of nerves and anticipation, you knocked on the door. The last time you were here, Alexia had been with two other women, and the encounter had ended on a sour note. You were hoping this visit would go more smoothly.
Alexia answered the door almost immediately, her face breaking into a warm smile. “Hola, guapa,” she greeted you, her tone soft and inviting.
You returned the greeting with a smile, “Hola, Alexia.” From beside you, Mia’s small voice piped up with an enthusiastic “Hola, Alexia,” and she waved excitedly.
Alexia’s smile widened as she crouched down to Mia’s level. “Hola, nena,” she said affectionately, lifting Mia into her arms.
Mia wrapped her small arms around Alexia’s neck. When they separated, Mia proudly pointed to her shirt and said, “Look, Alexia, I’m wearing your shirt today!”
Alexia’s eyes twinkled with delight as she laughed softly. “Yes! That’s a fantastic choice,” she said, giving Mia a high-five, which Mia eagerly reciprocated.
You couldn’t help but smile at the heartwarming interaction between them.
“Come on in,” Alexia invited, opening the door wider and gesturing for you both to enter.
As you stepped inside, a small dog came bounding towards you, tail wagging furiously.
“Puppy!” Mia squealed, dropping to her knees as the dog jumped up and began licking her face. Mia’s laughter filled the room, and you found yourself laughing too.
You joined Mia on the floor, gently petting the playful puppy. “This is Nala,” Alexia said, introducing the dog with a smile.
“She’s adorable,” you commented, reaching out to give Nala a gentle scratch behind the ears.
“Sí, igual que su mamá,” Alexia said with a smirk, adding a playful tone in Spanish that made you look up at her and shake your head with a soft smile on your face. (Yeah, just like her mom)
“What that mean?” Mia asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.
“It means she’s as adorable as you are,” Alexia explained with a chuckle, ruffling Mia’s hair, which caused Mia to giggle even more.
Afterward, Alexia offered you both drinks, and Mia made her way to the living room, settling in to watch TV while Nala curled up contentedly on her lap.
You and Alexia sat at the kitchen table, drinking coffee in silence. You weren’t sure how to start the conversation, but Alexia quickly took the initiative.
“So… you have a daughter,” Alexia said, glancing towards Mia.
“Yes,” you replied, nodding.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, confusion and hurt evident in her eyes.
You hesitated, struggling to find the right words. The truth—that you didn’t want Alexia near your daughter due to her reputation—seemed too harsh.
You looked away, avoiding her gaze as you fumbled for a response. Alexia seemed to understand your discomfort.
“You didn’t want me to meet her, did you?” she asked softly.
You didn’t respond, so she continued.
“I told you I wouldn’t be at the store this day, that’s why you brought Mia that exact day, right? Because you didn’t want me to see her?” Her voice held a trace of hurt.
You stared down at your coffee and nodded.
“And that’s also why you were so eager for me to leave? So I wouldn’t have the chance to meet her?” she persisted.
Once again, you didn’t speak, only nodding in confirmation.
“And you even lied about Carmen being on delivery duty to get me out of the store?” she asked.
You nodded again, meeting her gaze and seeing the hurt in her eyes.
“But why? I thought we were friends. I’ve shared so much about my life with you, and we’ve spent a lot of time together. Why keep Mia from me?” she asked, a mix of confusion and sadness in her voice.
“I... you know... you have a reputation. I didn’t want my daughter around you,” you admitted, noting the pain and disbelief on her face.
“Especially in the beginning, when we first met. You were insufferable and disrespectful, and I didn’t want my daughter exposed to that,” you continued.
Alexia nodded slowly, though her eyes still reflected hurt.
“I understand you wanted to protect your daughter from me,” she said. “I can be a lot at times.” Her voice carried a sad resignation.
You felt a pang of guilt seeing her so down, especially after witnessing how gentle and affectionate she was with Mia. You realized how wrong you had been.
“I’m really sorry,” you said, feeling deeply remorseful. Alexia reached across the table and took your hand in hers.
“No, don’t be. You’re a mother, and I understand that mothers will do anything to protect their children,” she said, her eyes meeting yours with a comforting warmth.
“Yes, and I was wrong. You were nothing but kind and loving towards Mia. As you can see, she absolutely adores you,” you told her with a gentle smile, which Alexia returned.
Her hand remained in yours, her touch warm and reassuring.
“So... what about Mia’s father or another mother?” Alexia asked cautiously, her tone tentative.
“Oh, the father isn’t in the picture anymore. He was terrible to me—cheated on me and left when he found out I was pregnant with Mia,” you confessed, feeling a wave of sadness.
Alexia shook her head in disapproval, her expression one of sympathy.
“That’s also why…” you started but trailed off.
Alexia’s eyebrows knitted together in concern. “Go on,” she urged gently.
You hesitated, knowing it was time to reveal everything and lay all the cards on the table.
“That’s also why I didn’t want you to know about her or meet her. You reminded me of him,” you began, and Alexia’s face showed clear shock, her eyebrows knitting together.
“He used to flirt with other women, even right in front of me. He was always so cocky and confident, never taking anything seriously,” you continued.
“When I snapped at you the other day, it wasn’t just about you—it was about him too. I used that moment to say everything I wished I’d said to him,” you added, your voice trembling as tears formed in your eyes, which you quickly wiped away, not wanting Mia to see you upset.
Alexia immediately stood up, gently pulling you with her.
“Mia, your mommy and I need to step into the bathroom for a moment. Is it okay if you stay here by yourself for a bit?” she asked Mia softly. Mia, absorbed in the TV, nodded without much interest.
Alexia guided you to her bathroom, closing the door behind you both. She enveloped you in a comforting embrace, your face nestled against her neck while her hands supported you—one at the back of your head and the other wrapped around your waist.
You let your tears flow freely, a release you hadn’t allowed yourself in a while. It felt cathartic to finally let everything out.
Alexia murmured soothing words into your ear, holding you close as you cried.
As you began to calm down, Alexia spoke softly. “You and Mia deserve so much more than that. I promise you, I’m not like him. I may be confident and a bit cocky, but I will never leave you. As long as you want me in your lives, I’ll be here.”
Her words warmed your heart. You pulled back slightly to meet her gaze. “Thank you,” you whispered, and Alexia gently rested her forehead against yours, offering a soft smile and cupping your cheeks.
The closeness made your heart race. Being this near to Alexia, after seeing her with other women, was a new and intense experience for you.
The memory of those other women made you pull back quickly, sniffing and smiling softly as you wiped your tears away.
“Thank you again, Alexia,” you said, drying your face.
Alexia smiled gently. “No need to thank me.” She then opened the bathroom door, and together, you both returned to the living room where Mia was waiting.
Alexia had convinced you to stay for lunch, and now the three of you were gathered around the kitchen table, enjoying bolognese pasta together.
Alexia and Mia were engaged in an animated conversation about football.
“Mommy said that one day, I’m going to be better than you,” Mia announced proudly, pointing her fork at Alexia.
“Did she now? Is that true?” Alexia asked, raising an eyebrow at Mia before turning her gaze to you with a playful smile.
“Yes, I did. Because it’s true, right, Mia?” you said, gently poking her sides. Mia giggled and looked up at you, her face glowing with joy.
“Yes, Mommy! I’m going to be the best when I grow up!” she exclaimed, and you couldn’t resist leaning down to kiss her on the cheek.
“Mommy!” Mia squealed with laughter, trying to wriggle away as you planted more kisses on her giggling face.
Alexia watched the scene with a soft smile, that familiar warmth spreading through her stomach, the same feeling she’d experienced the last time she’d apologized to you.
After lunch, you and Alexia tackled the dishes together while Mia, worn out from all the excitement, napped peacefully in Alexia’s bedroom.
“You know,” Alexia started, her voice carrying a smug tone as she stood by your side, drying the plates. “Now it all makes sense.”
You glanced at her, confused. “What makes sense?”
Her smirk grew wider, and you could already feel the teasing energy coming. “You always gave me MILF energy,” she said, eyeing you up and down like she was enjoying a private joke.
You felt heat rush to your face, but before you could react, she was already grinning even more, leaning in like she had a secret to share. “Especially when you get all serious and bossy with me. God, I love it when you’re bossy,” she added, lowering her voice. “It’s so hot.”
You didn’t waste a second. You nudged her hard with your hip, splashing water in her direction. “Don’t make me slap you,” you warned her, but she only laughed harder, loving every second of this.
Alexia recovered quickly, her smirk firmly back in place. “And by the way,” she added, wiping a plate with a casual air, “don’t think I forgot about you calling me hot.”
You froze, glancing at her quickly. “I—I did not call you hot,” you said, trying to sound firm, even though you knew you were lying through your teeth.
She chuckled, the sound deep and amused. “Oh, really? That’s not what Mia said yesterday. Maybe we should wake her up and ask her again.” She made a move toward the hallway, clearly teasing, and you immediately stepped in, placing your hand over her mouth.
“Shut up,” you muttered, your face burning as she laughed under your palm. You could feel her lips curve into a grin as she brushed your hand off with ease, cockier than ever.
There was a brief moment of silence between you two as you continued with the dishes, but the tension was palpable. Then, out of nowhere, Alexia’s voice broke the quiet.
“You know I’m not giving up, right?” Her tone was playful but serious, the teasing edge never quite leaving.
You turned to face her, already knowing where this was headed. “Still not having sex with you, Alexia,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest in defiance.
Her eyes darkened with that familiar mischief. She stepped a little closer, the smugness practically oozing from her.
“Come on, you think I’m hot, don’t deny it. Mia even confirmed it. And don’t think I don’t notice the way you look at me,” she added, her voice dipping just enough to make you shift where you stood.
You rolled your eyes, but your heart skipped a beat. “I think you’re hot, you think I’m hot, why not just… be hot together?” She shrugged, her expression impossibly smug. “In a bed. Naked.”
Tired of her arrogance, you decided it was time to play her own game.
You sighed dramatically. “Okay,” you said, making it sound like you were giving in.
Alexia’s cocky grin faltered for just a second as her eyes widened, surprised by your sudden agreement.
You stepped closer to her, and for once, she seemed speechless, unsure of what to do with her usual bravado.
As you closed the distance, pressing yourself fully against her, you felt her body stiffen, her breath hitching.
You took her hands, placing them around your waist, dangerously close to your butt. Her eyes searched yours, confused, intrigued, and undoubtedly turned on.
Without breaking eye contact, you wrapped your arms around her neck, leaning in until your lips grazed the shell of her ear. “How about tomorrow night?” you whispered, your voice sultry and slow.
“You can pick me up from work… take me back here… and you can fuck me… all. night. long.” You paused after each word, letting the sexual tension linger between you.
You felt Alexia’s sharp intake of breath, her body instinctively reacting to your closeness.
The faintest moan escaped her lips, her face pressing into the crook of your neck as if she couldn’t control the heat rushing through her.
Her hands moved lower, finally squeezing your butt gently, and you could feel her struggling to maintain her composure.
“And you know what the best part would be?” you whispered, your lips barely brushing her skin, your fingers lightly tracing the back of her neck.
Alexia, still caught up in the moment, could barely manage a hoarse, “What?”
Her hands kept caressing you butt, her body betraying just how much she was enjoying the moment.
You resisted the urge to push her hands away, knowing full well you enjoyed it too. But you had a point to make.
You leaned in even closer, letting her feel your breath against her ear. “The best part is…” you paused, feeling her anticipation grow. “This will all be happening… in your dreams.”
And with that, you pulled away completely, leaving Alexia standing there, utterly stunned, her jaw practically on the floor.
You smirked, enjoying the rare moment where you had the upper hand. “I’m gonna go check on Mia,” you said casually, as if you hadn’t just left Alexia breathless and flustered.
Alexia stood there, unable to speak, her mind reeling from what had just happened. She had always been confident, always in control, but you had completely turned the tables on her.
She was used to being the one who teased, the one who left others speechless—but now, you had her feeling things she hadn’t felt in a long time.
“Wow,” she finally muttered under her breath, her heart still racing. She had been with plenty of women before, but none had made her feel like this—none had gotten under her skin the way you just had.
The way your fingers had trailed down her neck, the soft whisper of your voice in her ear… it had her unraveling in a way she hadn’t expected.
That familiar warm sensation bubbled up in her stomach again, the same one she’d felt earlier at the table.
She could still feel the ghost of your touch on her skin as she hurried to the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face in an attempt to cool herself down.
But the truth was, she was hot. You’d left her wanting more—and for the first time, Alexia wasn’t quite sure how to regain the upper hand.
——
“Thank you, Alexia,” you said as you got back to your apartment.
After your hot moment in the kitchen, Mia had woken up, and it was time to head home. Alexia insisted on escorting you, so she, Mia, Nala, and you all made the walk to your apartment together.
During the walk, Alexia and Mia chatted animatedly about everything and anything, their laughter and conversation filling the air until you reached your front door.
But Alexia also stayed silent with you.Only talking with Mia.
“Bye-bye, Alexia! I had so much fun with Nala. Can I see her again?” Mia asked, her little arms wrapped around Alexia’s shoulders as they both looked down at Nala.
“Of course, nena. We can definitely arrange another playdate if your mommy agrees,” Alexia said, glancing up at you with a hopeful look. You nodded in agreement.
“Okay, and I want to see you again too. You’re my best friend now!” Mia exclaimed, snuggling her face into Alexia’s neck. Alexia smiled and stood up, with Mia clinging to her like a koala.
“You’re my best friend too, nena” Alexia said softly.
“Mommy is our best friend too! We can’t forget her,” Mia suddenly said, as if realizing she had almost overlooked you. She pulled her face away from Alexia’s neck and stretched out an arm.
“Mommy, come join the hug too!” Mia said with innocent enthusiasm. You smiled warmly as you stepped into the group hug.
As Alexia’s free arm wrapped around your waist, you draped your arm around both of them, leaning your head on Alexia’s shoulder.
Alexia looked down at the two girls in her arms, and a deep sense of contentment washed over her. She closed her eyes, savoring the moment, and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.
The touch of her lips sent a pleasant shiver through you. You looked up at her, smiling gently, and she returned your smile with equal warmth.
As the hug ended, Mia gave Alexia one last kiss on the cheek and a pat on Nala’s head before heading inside.
“Thanks again,” you said with a smile. “You’ve been so quiet with me. Did something happen?”
Alexia rolled her eyes playfully. “Yes, you turned me on really badly, and now I have to go home and take care of it myself,” she said, a groan escaping her.
“Oh, come on. I’m sure you could call one of the women in your contact list, and she’d be at your place in ten minutes,” you teased.
“Yes, I could,” Alexia said with a smug grin, “Pero preferiría imaginarte conmigo en lugar de con otra mujer. Podría llamarla por tu nombre por accidente” (but I’d rather imagine you with me than another woman. I might accidentally call her by your name.)
“Okayyyy,” you said, laughing.
“I have a new goal,” Alexia announced suddenly.
“What’s that?” you asked, intrigued.
“My new goal is to take you on a date,” she said with a mischievous smile.
“So it’s not just about getting me into your bed?” you asked, amused.
“Bueno, sí, pero quiero hacer las cosas bien. Mi nuevo objetivo es convencerte de que salgas conmigo.”she clarified. (Well, yes, but I want to do things properly. My new goal is to convince you to go on a date with me)
“I’m curious to see how you plan to achieve that,” you said with a grin.
“I’ll treat you well and completely stop flirting with or looking at other women,” she said confidently.
“You? Stopping from flirting with other women? Alexia Putellas?” you said, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.
“Sí, definitivamente puedo hacer eso.”she said, feigning offense. (Yes, I can totally do that)
“Sure…” you said, still unconvinced.
“Alright, let’s make a deal. If I don’t flirt with, sleep with, or even look at another woman for a month, you agree to go on a date with me,” she proposed, determination in her voice.
You considered it for a moment, knowing she might find it challenging. “Okay,” you agreed.
“¿De verdad? ¿No es solo otra broma?”she asked, surprised. (Really? It’s not just another joke?)
“No joke. One month, no women, and I’ll go on that date,” you confirmed, and she cheered.
“Genial! Bueno, ahora necesito ir a cuidar de mí misma, si sabes a qué me refiero.”she said with a suggestive wink and you laughed a little. (Great! Well, now I need to go and take care of myself, if you know what I mean)
“Bye, Alexia,” you said.
“Adios, guapa,” she replied, waving as she walked away.
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hsr-writing · 1 day
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I'm absolutely heartbroken by 2.5 and my boy Jiaoqiu my beloved. Jiaoqiu x reader, sfw, fluff/minor angst, Jiaoqiu is non-verbal, established relationship.
Jiaoqiu wakes up slowly, the weight of the bandages around his eyes feeling alien still. The blanket he's under is heavy, he thinks it might be a weighted one, and he can feel a few tangles in his tail's fur. How frustrating.
Someone is sitting next to his bed, and he can hear the quiet tapping of fingertips against a screen. One of his ears twitches as he focuses on the presence, trying to glean any information he can.
They smell familiar, herbs and healing balms, but under that there's apples and cardamom. He knows that smell. His hunch is confirmed when you speak softly.
"You're awake," you say, your voice warm with relief. "It's been a few days since you last woke up. You're healing well, if slow."
Your assurances feel numb, like they roll off of him like water meeting oil. He lifts a hand, blindly reaching out towards you and he's never felt more lost.
You take his hand, not even minding the way he grips yours just a little too tight. He holds your hand like a lifeline, and all you do in response is give his a comforting squeeze. Jiaoqiu lets himself take a moment to breathe, focusing on the heat of your hand and your own breathing.
After a few moments, you quietly tell him, "You just missed Moze and Feixiao. They've barely left your side if they can help it."
He feels you place a hand on top of his, gently petting the back of his hand. Your hands are soft, your callouses from writing instead of fighting. He soaks in the little details about you that he never felt important to notice.
"... We've been worried," you murmur, your thumb soothing over his knuckles. "I'm... I'm so glad you're awake."
He opens his mouth to reply, only to realize he just... can't. He's physically capable, but he's just so tired, so bone deep exhausted that words won't come to him. He closes his mouth with a frown, then twists his hand in yours so he can write against your palm.
I'm sorry.
You take a shaky breath, then he feels you lift your joined hands, pressing them against your forehead, almost to mimic the way you've pressed yours against his in the past.
"I know," you say, and your voice is unsteady. "I understand why you did it, the logic is sound, and it was strategically a good idea. But gods, Jiaoqiu, I- When they told me what happened-"
You cut yourself off, your voice choking, and take a moment to breathe.
"I was so scared I'd lost you," you murmur, like saying it out loud will tempt fate. "I'm so, so glad you're alive, A-Qiu"
Jiaoqiu's heart hurts, your sincerity and relief almost overwhelming. He tugs your hand, blindly pulling you down towards him. You bring his hand to your face and he's grateful you understand him so well.
You give him the ability to guide your forehead to his, giving him that control he's already desperately clinging to. As you hold still, foreheads pressed together, he slides his hand into your hair, sighing softly at the familiarity.
"I missed you," you murmur softly, and it makes his heart sing. He smiles, nuzzling a little and hoping you'll understand. You huff a tiny laugh, bringing your hand to his cheek, your thumb smoothing over his cheekbone.
"I love you too."
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chanceofwhat · 3 days
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Aroace positivity to outnumber the bots in our tags:
1. First of all, you are valid. Aroace, aroallo, and amatoace people are all inherently LGBTQ+ enough. It’s stupid to say otherwise. The queer community is (generally, and I’m v sorry if I miss anyone here,) for anyone who experiences attraction or gender differently from the current default social norm of cishet. Experiencing it not at all is plenty different enough.
2. This stuff is SO CONFUSING. It’s OKAY if you don’t understand your own feelings. Feelings are WEIRD. I’ve felt what I can only describe as strong queerplatonic attraction 3 times in my life, and in hindsight I can even identify my “type,” but I’m 20 so 3 isn’t very many and also I was equally happy dating them and not dating them.
2.5. (Story) I recently told my dad that my roomie and I are planning to still live together after college, and his response was “so you guys are officially a couple now?” ?????bro WHY would I do that? WHAT part of “living together” necessitates DATING?? That sounds STRESSFUL! Which brings me to,
3. AmatoAllos are going to struggle to understand. This is normal, fine, and not your fault. They can’t conceive of someone not experiencing sensations that are such a notable part of their lives. Be patient and don’t try to force them to get something they just don’t get, but also, that struggle is NOT an excuse to treat you poorly, NOT an excuse to try to push you into dating or copulating when you don’t want to, and NOT an excuse to not listen to you or to invalidate your experiences.
In summary: You’re not wrong, you’re not broken, you’re just different. Different is a neutral trait. If I could choose to stop being aroace right now? I genuinely don’t know what I’d do. Sure, sounds easier to fit into society, and I’d like to stop stressing about what my life will look like without that expected piece, but if I’m all distracted by crushes and wet dreams, how am I ever going to take over the world?! Also the ace and aro communities are some of the kindest and most accepting and more comforting I’ve ever seen, so I wouldn’t wanna give that up. I love myself exactly the way I am.
Love yourself the way you are. I know it can be hard sometimes, but we have to try. Eventually, you get used to loving yourself and it becomes second nature, or a habit at the very least.
I rambled a lot here and it ended up long and wacky, but I’m not sorry because ADHD is part of who I am and I love who I am so. Deal with it. But yea the point is no bots can get in the way of our powerful community and we’re going to eat cake and garlic bread and take over the world.
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Text
Early
gn reader x Raphael
No warnings, just fluff
Tumblr media
He usually comes by about halfway though his patrol. He only really gets to do it twice a week, but it is something he's begun to look forward to.
He hasn't realized yet that the first "half" of his nightly rounds has been growing shorter and shorter. That, on those nights, he's been counting the seconds until sundown, waiting at the manhole like a runner for a pistol. That, on those days, when he's supposed to be sleeping, he can't help thinking about all the things he can't wait to talk to you about.
He hasn't realized yet just how fucked he is.
He's early. Significantly. He can't help it, he's been thinking about you all day. For the last three days. You made the mistake of telling him you'd never seen the Riddick series, and he has spent the last three days coming up with a convincing argument to have a movie night with you. For the movies, of course.
He alights on the rooftop of the building across from your own, and smiles when he sees the warm light on in the living room.
A sweep of his color catches his attention as you enter the living room, hair wet as if you've just finished a shower. You are wearing the red blanket he knitted you a few months ago. As he watches you sit on the couch, and the blanket rides high up on your thigh, he realizes you are *only* wearing the blanket he knitted you a few months ago, and suddenly his shell feels way too tight.
He watches you lean over the coffee table and pick up your phone, the red knit sliding across your skin like silk. As a few stands of damp hair fall forward and you reach up to tuck them behind your ear, the blanket slips from one shoulder and his eyes can't help but follow the curve of your throat as his tongue turns to sandpaper.
You lay back on the couch, the blanket shifting to expose the skin of your side, the dip of your hips, the curve of your chest, and he's so focused on the vision in the building across from him he nearly falls off the roof when his phone vibrates.
After taking a moment to regain his footing and his composure, he looks at the phone.
You: [ETA?]
He looks back up at you. You are smiling softly as you wait for a response, red fabric draped across your bare skin, the contrast of color bringing attention to every slight shift in your position.
Fuck, you're beautiful...
You're the whole damn package, really. Smart, funny, a total knockout, what the hell are you doing spending all your time with him when you could be doing literally anything else? How could someone like you even give him the time of day?
Bruiser ♥️ : [Depends.]
He sees you make a face when you receive the message and smirks.
You: [On?]
Bruiser ♥️ : [On how much you miss me. 😏]
He sees a bright smile bloom on your face, and you laugh as you send the text, catching your tongue between your teeth.
You: [Desperately. 😭]
How were you both this fucking cute and this fucking hot at the same time? It can't be legal. A grin brakes across his features as well.
Bruiser ♥️ : [Be there in 5.]
....
Tag list:
@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos
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oswalish · 2 days
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rahhhh random rant because i’m angry hater mood i HATE HATE HATE people who think miss goldberg did anything to marvin. saw someone go “set those sails is a villain song and people need to accept miss goldberg is a bad person” i’m screaming and crying and clawing at the walls you don’t fucking understand it you don’t understand the goddamn musical.
in trousers is at its core about misogyny, that is its core theme, which is shown by how marvin hurts the women in his life, specifically his wife, his sweetheart, and miss goldberg. it would conflict the themes and narrative if miss goldberg hurt marvin, as this would diminish what marvin does to the other women. marvin does come up with excuses for his actions/ tries to garner sympathy in the musical (im talking 1979 vers here, i’m not as well versed on the 1985) he is immediately hit with trina shutting him down with her telling us how his actions have hurt her more than they’ve hurt him.
another thing is that the women are mostly not themselves, but rather versions of themselves that exist in marvin’s head. this doesn’t apply to trina, as she is the only woman in the musical who tells her own story. for example, your lips and me and its reprise tell us very specifically events that are happening in her life and how she’s feeling, she also tells her about her past. she also addresses marvin directly in breakfast over sugar.
whereas his sweetheart and miss goldberg do not have songs like this. “my highschool sweetheart” doesn’t tell us anything about his sweetheart other than that she’s his sweetheart, she’s a person, and that she wants marvin to pay attention to her more. but there honestly isn’t much in the musical to confirm that she actually is a person at all, she insists her own existence but marvin never pays attention to her or even addresses her existence, in childhood or adulthood.
miss goldberg is interesting. she doesn’t play into marvin’s fantasy and feels like more of a real person than his sweetheart, having her own personality and opinions. she also sings i am wearing a hat where she seems to tell part of a story that could be her own, though it doesn’t really get more specific than “i’m wearing a hat, i am unloved”. she never quite seems to behave like a schoolteacher either, within the story she seems to be more of a narrator, likely due to her importance in marvin’s story. she is the biggest case of marvin insisting his heterosexually, while also forcing him to realise he is gay. she is not actually herself within the musical, the real miss goldberg is probably nothing like her. this is an internalised version of her than marvin came up with, though it’s more authentic feeling than his sweetheart since her role is to pull marvin out of his fantasies, since she’s probably the only way marvin can actually be honest with himself and recognise his actions.
many people bring up the lines “you might tell me you’re a victim, you might get what you deserve, but i won’t excuse, boy i cant excuse, a boy who’s lost his nerve” which i will admit. do not sound great, incredibly suspicious even. but taken in the context that miss goldberg is not actually saying this to marvin, and actually it’s a version of miss goldberg that marvin has made up to make himself “behave properly” it starts to make sense.
marvin victimises himself a LOT. he’s self aware enough to recognise when he does wrong but tends to refuse to believe that it’s truly his fault, and that he’s the victim somehow. this is pretty obvious in falsettos but it’s also true in in trousers. he sings a lot of songs trying to portray himself as the victim, facing a lot of opposition from the women. this is shown in How Marvin Eats His Breakfast where he is sure that he’s in the right and is the victim because he’s not getting what he wants, and the women in the song directly oppose him by describing all the insane things he’s doing and even insulting him. it’s also shown in The Nausea Before the Game, where he’s lamenting about how his life is so hard, and how trying to live up to societies expectations is nauseating (this is a very simplified analysis of the song, i do actually thing marvin’s feelings in this song are valid but that’s an entirely different conversation). the song transitions into his wife singing about how she met him, how he ghosted her for weeks but then came back. that part of the song is much more tragic than marvin’s, essentially telling the listener that while his feelings are valid, he also seriously hurt and damaged this woman, and that that cannot be forgotten. the musical never ever lets us believe that marvin is the victim, despite his insistence.
and then every pony, is what i think the first line of that quote is referring to. how marvin is convinced that he is the victim, he is telling *himself* that. and the part of himself who knows that isn’t true manifests as miss goldberg to tell him that no, no you aren’t. no matter what marvin says, he will never be the victim, he is the one hurting others.
“you might get what you deserve” is slightly more difficult. i can’t really tell if it’s positive or negative. it could either refer to how he got what he deserved by being in a loveless marriage, or how he got what he deserved by leaving his wife and kids (and bird) to leave with whizzer. personally i think it’s the second, going with how marvin is convinced that he’s the victim, he’s convinced him leaving his wife for whizzer is what he deserves after going through so much. he thinks he deserves something good for once. and like yay bro for breaking out of your forced heterosexuality but did you have to destroy your wife’s entire life in the process? when i say marvin isn’t a victim i do mean in the context of the musical, marvin is very much a victim of society and heteronormativity, but he is NOT a victim of any of the women in the musical, which he likes to pretend he is. it’s easier to blame them than himself.
“but i won’t excuse, boy i can’t excuse, a boy who’s lost his nerve.” much simpler to understand, the miss goldberg inside marvin’s head is very much the voice of outside influence, aka wider society, the one that expects him to conform. she can’t excuse him “loosing his nerve” by deciding to cheat on his wife with a man and run away with said nerve.
anyway i hope this yap session help y’all understand that marvin was never harmed by miss goldberg (nor do i think he did anything to her, other than probably be off putting and creepy like an average 14 year old is) i doubt anyone will see this but i loooooove talking about this stupid musical so ask questions please please please or else i’ll post 5 MILLION of these because i can’t stop thinking about this musical
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tom-is-online · 2 days
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not to be rude but ena and akito are. completely different in terms of personality and overall character😭 maybe someone likes akito but doesn’t fw ena’s personality or whatever. it’s fine
reacting to THIS POST
I don't know what you're reading, but I would never describe them as completely different. Sure, they ARE different characters, but if anything is similar about them, it is their personalities and the role they play in the story.
They are both very dedicated and passionate about their corresponding passions despite neither of them having "natural talent." Instead of giving up, they keep working hard to show themselves that they can follow the path they want to despite what others (Vivid Street (Arata) in Akitos's case and their dad in Ena's) around them have to say about it.
They're both very blunt whether they mean to be rude or not, but they both also care a lot about the people around them, especially their units and each other even if they don't show it in normal ways.
Their inferiority in their talents also brings the fact that both of them experience jealousy for people who show they have more talent which is shown in both of their focus events a lot
Neither of them is very academically gifted mostly through a lack of interest
And theres a lot more which im sure someone less tired than me would love to tell me in the notes :)
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the 4komas even riff on them often acting very similar
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+ Their BNW quotes literally mean the same thing
the whole thing with them both really like cheesecake and pancakes but hate carrots is also meant to be a nod to their similarities
people have a tendency to demonise Ena for being mean or violent or whatever people want to call her. but what Ena is usually criticised for Akito typically isn't (cough cough this fanbase has a history of being very male-biased which I hate)
Akito is also mean, he was a dick to everyone in his unit in the main story at some point and he often pulls pranks on the people in his school (Tsukasa) just to highlight a few easy things
AND FOR THE VIOLENT THING.
People have a tendency to highlight Ena scratching Akito when she was stressed out in middle school. and not to generalise. but. i am convinced you people are only children AND did not read the VBS main story
siblings fight, it's normal, especially in a household like the Shinonomes with the whole emotionally neglectful dad thing they got going on, i fought with my brother a lot as a kid and it happens. I'm not saying it's great and everyone should be attacking their siblings but the people who focus on Ena scratching Akito seem to magically forget.
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AKITO PUNCHED TOYA HARD ENOUGH FOR HIM TO BE BRUISED IN THE MAIN STORY.
I've seen people make the argument that Akito can be excused cuz of the circumstances it happened being stressful and made him angry. But that clearly ignores what Ena was going through in middle school.
saying "Ena scratching Akito was a common occurrence but Akito only punched someone once" just does not feel like a good enough argument at all.
the last post gave a good argument on it so just go read that to lmao
I'll say it again. stop babying the male characters. if you're gonna excuse Akito punching Toya in the head and not excuse Ena when she was in MIDDLE SCHOOL then I don't know what to tell you
anyway.
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i think a large part of their dynamic is carried by their similarities - they share a lot of the same key traits and they tend to but heads due to it but they do care about each other a lot in their own sibling way. I also just relate to them both a lot lmao
if someone wants to make a legitimate argument for how the Shinonomes are very different in personality, be my guest feel free to rb with what you think
but in my opinion at the VERY LEAST they share so much of their personalities and with how much Ena is demonised by some of this fandom it's a red flag to me to like Akito and hate Ena.
but yeah please rb with anything else u wanna add cuz I've definitely missed some stuff
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bucked-it-up · 3 hours
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i wanted to ramble about where I think Buck and Tommy will be going into season 8 and what I think could possibly happen.
With the gap between S7 and S8 looking to be a shorter time skip and there not much development in the relationship, I’m quite excited to see what milestones they have passed together and which ones we will look forward to seeing.
This quote from Oliver interests me a lot “They’re still learning and figuring things out about each other and what a relationship might or could look like.” I feel like this could mean a few things, one being they are both firefighters and this is something new for Buck to navigate and also possibly new for Tommy as well. Both of them will have to get used to seeing the other leave for long shifts that mean they may not come home completely safe and sound. That will mean navigating the emotions that come with this, learning how to let one another go knowing that they will worry but they have to trust one another and having to live with the feeling that the other could get hurt without them being able to help/ get there as quick as they wish they could.
This is also the first relationship Buck has been in with a man and that will come with many obstacles, these could arise from being something that Buck hasn’t done before. A queer relationship come with pressures and negativity that straight relationships do not. Especially being in a queer relationship for the first time while having a boss like Gerrard and being separated from Bobby, someone he goes to advice and is a major part of Buck’s support network.
Another thing I get from this quote is they are working out how to be around each other and what they want their future to be like. This could include moving in which is something I would love to see but after this quote I am curious if it will be early season 8 or further down the line as a conversation talking about living situations could definitely come under what Oliver said.
I think as well the choice to bring back Gerrard will make things interesting for Buck and Tommy. I think it will give a good look at how they work through problems together and how they come to solutions. It will also show us more about how their relationship works, how they communicate and how they support each other. I hope that their relationship is explored in this arc because personally I think it would be a missed opportunity to not show how a newly out Bi character deals with a homophobic boss and how he communicates this with his boyfriend who has gone through it before.
Furthermore in S8 I really do hope we see many happy moments from them and we get to see ‘I love yous’ and milestones from them, I also hope we get to see some adversity. Preferably from outside sources rather than coming from within the relationship, such as one of them getting injured and having to navigate what that means for them and if they can cope. I would like to see them go through something like this and come out the other side even stronger.
As I have already said I would love to see them move in together and see Tommy’s house. To me this would signal that they (and the show) plan to stay with each other for a while and I would love to see Buck choose to live with his partner not because it just kinda happened like with Abby or out of some kind of guilt like with Taylor. I want him to make the choice and it be a deliberate and loving choice that allows him to spend more time with Tommy and increases their strength within the relatiionship.
To focus a little more on Tommy, I do hope he is featured in the opening arc in some way or another. I will be happy with any scenes he gets but i would love if he got a prominent role and we got to see his skills as a firefighter. I think having a pilot as a character is a good addition to the line up and allows for interplay between firefighters on the ground and in air support and means he can be included in more scenes as it has been shown he also does groundwork.
To end this ramble I hope that we get to see them happy and healthy. I hope the show explores their relationship and how different aspects of their life affect what they do and say. I truly hope that Buck is now off the hamster wheel and we don’t have to see him get back on it. I want to see Buck grow more within his professional life and outside of what he is like in relationships.
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hi, like your writing alot, can i request ej with an so who likes to kiss his scars/him in general in an attempt to make him feel better?
Helloooo I hope you enjoy, I'm feeling a lil wonky myself today, so I tried to make this fluffy for you
Jack tries to insist oftentimes that he's perfectly fine and dandy, although that's not quite true. Most days he is alright, but there are a lot of times when his past and his trauma overwhelm him, where he gets incredibly depressed and despondent, but he does his best to hide it behind his stoic personality. To you, however, who knows him so well and notices all his signs and tells that could slip past others, it's quite obvious when he's in a depressive rut, as he is right now. It's upsetting to watch him try and work through these things alone, so of course you want to be there for him to help him, and the best way to do that is usually through physical affection. You've made it a routine to try and soothe him with touch, as you've found over time that he benefits greatly from it, as touch-starved as he is, and today is no different.
Being nocturnal, he usually doesn't wake up until late in the afternoon, and when you find him today it's obvious his lethargy is hitting him. He's normally up and getting dressed, but today he's lying in bed buried under the covers, showing no signs of moving anytime soon. As you move to crawl into his bed beside him, he turns immediately, sighing as he shoves his face into your chest and pulls you firmly against him, trying to snuggle all of his worries away. You're the only person he truly lets his guard down around, and as you move back to look at his face, the depression and worry lines are clearly sinking into him, and you're quick to cover his face in kisses, causing surprised noises to rise from him, but they're quickly replaced by purrs, his feline ears relaxing and his tail swishing back and forth. Your eyes trace over the various scars across his skin, scars Jack tries (and often succeeds to, due to his lack of vision) to forget about, your fingers moving to trace them gently. His body tenses a bit at the feeling of you caressing them, but the purrs continue to leave him as he headbutts into you gently, but you continue to do what you always do and move your lips across his scars.
It always flusters him when you do so, giving him a deep feeling in his chest he's not sure how to process, a feeling that makes him a little uncomfortable as he's not used to feeling it, but at the same time he doesn't want you to stop. He can't see the scars across his skin, some of them from work, some of them from the night he became a demon, some of them inflicted by his own hands during his darker nights, but he hates them. He can't see how they make him look, but the more insecure parts of his mind tell him they must make him look even more monstrous, and it's a sore spot for him, so for you to treat them so delicately, for you to lovingly kiss them in an attempt to make him feel better, it just deeply flusters him in a way he never thought he'd feel. Your repetitive attempts to do this to him over time have soothed his worries a lot, but it doesn't make him any less embarrassed every time you do it. It makes him happy that you love him so much, that you accept him and cherish him despite what he perceives to be flaws. He feels himself relaxing and his negative thoughts leaving him as your lips gently work their way across his face now, and his nose scrunches up when you intentionally try and tickle him with butterfly kisses, causing you to laugh at his adorable expression. It's a repetitive process you like to do, one that brings both of you joy, and while Jack never thought that it would do so, he feels so at peace knowing he's finally found someone who loves him enough to do things like this. While he was originally so shy about you doing things like this, there are lots of days where he finds himself missing this, finds himself wanting to find you, and ask you to do this to him, but you always seem to know just when he needs it. He loves you more than he ever thought he'd be able to love anything, and the fact that you clearly care about him so much increases that love tenfold. He feels himself drifting back off to sleep as you continue to kiss all over him, a smile on his face as peace runs through his mind, all thanks to you.
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redheadspark · 3 days
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Hiii. Sorry to bother, but do you mind repeating Characters for your september prompt session? And if the answer is no... can I ask for Benedict Bridgerton with #12- Dreamy? Please?☺️
A/N - Hello! Sorry for not getting to this sooner, but I'm so happy I got to write this! I hope you like it!
Walk
Summary - Benedict knows how to love you, even in your dreams
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Warnings - Mostly fluff with a hint of angst
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It started with flowers floating in your dreams.
Not just any flowers, your favorite.  Beautiful peach-colored roses that bloomed at the perfect time. You loved those flowers, they reminded you of your father when you were very little and he would find them just for you.  The sweet scent they carried brought you peace and tranquility, and the velvet touch along your fingers brought you reality when you were lost in your mind.
You dreamt of those flowers, and it made you smile.
Next, it was your favorite lake, the very lake that was near your summer cottage that your family would go to every June.  It was a lovely lake, with tall grass along the sides, and instant memories of swimming in the waters from dawn until dusk, or until your mother had to drag you out.  You missed that lake as of late, and to dream it was another sign that something was going on in your dreams. 
Or someone, and you knew who it was.
Being ever observant and inquisitive about your life, your husband and soulmate Benedict Bridgerton was willing to “walk” in your dreams.  It wasn’t walking really, it was more like peeking in, like poking his head through a window and seeing on the other side.  It was a cool little trick that soulmates could do: seeing the other’s dreams or tapping into your mind when they were sleeping. It seemed like a childish thing to do, you sharing with other couples that were soulmates how they would see their spouse's dreams and uncover deep dark secrets.  But that was never the case for you and Benedict. 
You were more tight-lipped than your spouse was, not that he would chat about anything and everything if he had the chance.  You were simply an introvert who would prefer to have a small cluster of friends with you then be in a ball with thousands of others.  Benedict seemed to be the opposite: having a big family filled with brothers and sisters and the in-laws that also came with them.  You loved his family, they were nothing but warm and kind to you when you were introduced as his soulmate months before.  Your mother-in-law, Violet Bridgerton, was especially taken with you when she hugged you close.
“You two are simply lovely together, I can tell Benedict will make you very happy!” She said in glee.  And she was indeed right.
Benedict loved making you smile and bringing you happiness, whether it was his flirtatious nature with his word and longing gazes, or the small gifts he would give you since he knew you were not a big fan of massive gifts and huge proclamations of love.  He showed it also through his craft in artistry, the paintings he would gift you on a random day or on your birthday would always make you grin from ear to ear and feel that love again.  He was a wondering soulmate and husband.
Even more when he visited your dreams and saw what was plaguing your mind.
Sometimes it was good and sometimes it was bad, but it was mostly good thanks to Benedict.  You could see the same about Benedict and his own dreams, which were always light and filled with optimism and dreams that he’s had.  He was an amazing artist and was known far and wide for his work, keeping his family close by, and did not lose them at any moment.  And most of all, his marriage to you.  Some of the dreams were worries that he had if he was a good enough son to his mother or a husband to you. If his work was going to be well received or if it was something he should give up.
You woke up and ran to him, hugging him close in your arms after seeing one of those dreams of his insecurities.  He was taken aback at first, but you simply held him and whispered in his ear, “You’re good enough, my darling,”
You could have sworn you felt tears hit your nightgown.  
From then on, both you and Benedict it is a rule to never invade one another’s dreams to the point of annoyance.  Not that either one of you was prone to negative dreams, it was rare really.  If there was a dream questionable, there was room for discussion the following morning.  But that rarely happened, you two were ever open to one another and never left anything out of a conversation.  Benedict helped you blossom and be bold in your opinions and in how you spoke, in return you helped Benedict be calmer in the chaotic times.  
Even in the dire times, Benedict was there for you within your dreams.  Right after you both were married, your father fell ill and passed away within months.  It was a devastating blow to your family, you took the loss very hard since you were very close to your father.  After the funeral, Benedict held you in his arms as you cried yourself to sleep.  Though you were filled with love and comfort thanks to your soulmate, the hole that was left behind because of the absence of your father was still evident.
Yet there was Benedict, in your dream, holding you close and swaying with you as you both danced among the clouds.  
“Thank you, my love,” You thanked him in the dream, seeing him peer down at you and trace your face with his fingers.
“You don’t ever have to thank me for taking care of the love of my life,” He replied in a loving tone.  
Years later and with several dreams already shared, you both were growing as a couple in a new phase of life. Your mother gifted you the summer cottage, something your father wished to do when you were a bit older but your mother figured it was the right time to gift you the small home that was filled to the brim with memories. Benedict whisked you away for one summer, 4 weeks of the pair of you in nature and using the lake for all it’s worth.
9 months later, your son was born.  Affectionally name after your father.  You and Benedict would bring your son to the same cottage every year, making new memories together and always looking forward.  Leaving the past behind.
The End.
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forgetmaenott · 18 hours
Text
Butterflies - TADC Showtime Oneshot
A/N: Because I love the idea of Pomni being in denial and Caine unintentionally making it worse (better)
It was no secret that Caine was, by far, the most oblivious entity in the entire circus. And yet, even he was aware of just how much Pomni had been avoiding him lately. If she was trying to keep it from being so obvious, she was certainly doing a poor job of it.
Emotions were still a bit of a foreign concept to Caine. He experienced them, despite the fact that he probably shouldn't. But he still had a difficult time labeling them. The best he could do was observe how the others acted and make an educated guess. Nonetheless, if his time spent with Pomni had taught him anything about emotions, he suspected he was feeling...concerned.
He had spent the past few days piecing together an adventure perfectly suited for Pomni. He made sure to add all the details she told him she liked from the real world, all the things she missed, everything he had stored in her memory. This morning, he was announcing it with every ounce of energy he had in his system, looking Pomni in the eye in the hopes to impress her. His code fluttered at the idea of her praise.
"...and, it's up to you to piece this mystic mystery together!" Caine finished his introduction of today's adventure. Pomni said one time that she was interested in the mystery genre back at home, as it gave her a challenge to think of and piece together. Like a puzzle, she had said. She liked those. He glanced at Pomni subtly, hoping he had her attention.
"Huh. Intersting. My money's on Zooble being the culprit," Jax crossed his arms, flashing his signature yellow grin.
"It's not even a murder mystery, you jack[#$%!]," Zooble grumbled in response.
"Heh. We'll see about that."
"Well, this sounds like a good one! Piecing together clues, solving puzzles, what do you think, Pomni?" Ragatha asked the woman next to her, swinging her plush arms.
Her eyes were glued to the floor. "Oh...um, think I'm gonna sit this one out..." Pomni said meekly, tightening her own grip on her arm as thought it would bring her comfort.
Caine's arms drooped, hanging sadly by his sides as his cane clinked to the stage's floor. "You...don't?"
Pomni shifted uncomfortably. "I'm sorry, maybe next time..."
Caine flew by her side, hoping to get a glimpse of her face. "But my dear, you've been saying that for the past four adventures."
"Yeah? Well, maybe I'm uh, sick or something. I don't know. Not feeling my best," Pomni excused herself, coughing lightly in an utterly unconvincing manner.
Caine placed a finger on his lower jaw in thought. "Sick? That shouldn't happen in the digital circus. Unless you have some sort of bug or glitch. I can run some tests if you'd like--!"
"Oh! No thanks, I think I just need to rest," Pomni swung her foot awkwardly, refusing to meet his eyes. 
“Pomni? Are you sure you’ve been feeling okay lately?” Ragatha asked with a concerned frown.
Pomni blushed ever so slightly at the stares of the other circus members. “Yeah, I’m fine! Don’t worry about it. I’m just gonna head to my room now to uh, rest…”
“Oh, okay. Well uh, catch you after the adventure!” Ragatha called as Pomni hurried away.
Zooble watched her grow, crossing their arms. “Huh. What’s been her deal lately?”
“Someone’s got a secret,” Jax smiled mischievously.
“Or she’s just tired,” Gangle suggested shyly.
“Not very likely,” Ragatha replied.
“Did someone say something about a butterfly?” Kinger peeked out of his impenetrable fortress.
If Caine had a heart, it would have broken into pieces at the sight of Pomni scurrying away from him. It took all the energy he had left in his coding to remain enthusiastic for the others. “Well, that leaves the rest of you. There you go, and have fun my darling detectives!”
He ushered them off into the portal quickly before dusting off his suit and snapping himself in front of Pomni’s door…
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
She couldn't escape his eyes.
And she loved and hated it.
His gaze made her shiver, formerly from being unnerved but these days, that sensation was met with a thumping heart and fluttering stomach. Sometimes, she swore the eyes in the circus's paintings would follow her ever so slightly, staring when she wasn't looking then flicking back into position when she turned to glance. The idea of him looking at her in that way made her face flush.
Conscious of the dozens of eyes in the hall, she felt herself blush to the tips of her ears. As quickly as she could escape her fluster, she shut the door of her room behind her and crashed on her bed, sighing in relief at the privacy.
What the hell was wrong with her these days? How was a pair of teeth and eyes--a computer--making her feel like this? Her captor? She grumbled nonsense into her pillow, feeling her face flush at the thought of him. The idea of his touch, the way he looked at her so curiously sometimes—it made her tingle to the tips of her toes.
Oh, God, she felt sick with anxiety. She couldn't possibly have a crush on him, right? It had to be all psychological. It was all in her head, and once she stopped thinking of it she'd certainly be back to normal.
But even so, she couldn't help but hide out in her room these past days, avoiding being seen blushing or tripping over her words around him. He was oblivious and likely wouldn't catch on, but it would still be rather awkward to explain--God forbid the others find out about it, especially Jax. She would never live it down.
Pomni held the ends of her pillow tighter against her face as though it would squeeze the confusing thoughts and feelings from her mind. He made it so much worse today. His adventure was finely tuned to her interests, something he had clearly remembered from their many conversations about her life in the real world--well, what she could remember, that is. It was endearing, it was charming, and sweet, and It had even made her heart flutter--she couldn't do it. She couldn't let herself fall apart in front of any of them.
It was just a small crush. She'd get over it in a day or so, and then things would be entirely back to normal. Pomni took a deep breath, repeating that idea in her head.
Her head was pounding from these thoughts--or, no, that was the sound of her door. She groaned, peeking up out of her pillow at the noise.
"Pomni? May I come in?"
Pomni's stomach dropped at the sound of Caine's voice behind the door. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, her heart suddenly thumping from the anxiety. "Uhh--maybe later! I kind of just need to rest right now--"
"I'm aware, dear. Just give me a moment of your time. Please?"
Pomni stopped in her tracks. He usually was energetic and boisterous but now, he was talking almost normal. He almost sounded sad. Her heart ached with guilt. "Um, okay..."
She begrudgingly climbed out of her bed, smoothing her clothes and taking a deep breath before opening the door. Sure enough, Caine stood there, fidgeting with his cane in his hands. His eyes brightened ever so slightly at the sight of her peeking from behind her open door. "Ah, there's my star! How are you, dear? Feeling any better?"
"Oh, hah. Yeah..." she couldn't think of what else to say, feeling at her hat for no reason in particular.
"Anyways, the others are off on the adventure, so I figured you and I could spend some time together! No one else, just us for the day," Caine beamed proudly at his idea.
Pomni's heart immediately started racing, a flush already traveling its way to her cheeks. God, she had it bad for him. This was humiliating. "Just...us?" she squeaked.
Caine looked at the floor sheepishly. "Well, ah, admittedly I couldn't help but notice some...behavioral changes in you these past days. So, I figured what better way to get you right back to normal than to spend some quality time with your ringmaster!" He perked up proudly at this, flying to her side and placing an arm around her.
Pomni froze at his touch, praying he couldn't feel the way her heart was beating so firmly against her chest. "O-oh, um...that's a great idea, Caine, but--"
He gripped her shoulders. "Isn't it? I just knew you'd like it!"
Pomni tried to avoid his eyes, but with him gazing so intensely at her in front of her, it was sort of hard to do. "Y-yeah, but...honestly, Caine, I think I just want to do something more, I don't know, not stressful?" she tripped up on her words, trying to get some excuse out.
"Not stressful? Why, I have the perfect idea in mind!" Caine said proudly, snapping his fingers without another word from Pomni. She tensed from the unpleasant sensation of traveling through the digital plane so unnaturally. "Here we are!"
Pomni opened her eyes and immediately flushed at the sight before her. It was a secluded area of the digital forest, dotted with colorful flowers and petals resting delicately on the grass. Everything lacked in detail, yet somehow, the way the digital sunlight was streaming in, lighting the path ahead made it feel...intimate, somehow.
Caine floated down until he touched the ground. He took a few steps experimentally, adjusting to walking rather than flying. He did walk, he just preferred not to. But this time was a special occasion. He turned back to Pomni, holding out his gloved hand.
Pomni froze. Did he want to hold her hand? Was he just inviting her to join him? Or maybe both? Hesitantly, she reached the tips of her fingers out, just barely grazing over his glove and making the contact she was so afraid of. Caine, however, wasted no time as he slid his hand beneath hers and grabbed her whole hand in his, pulling her to his side.
Pomni nearly tripped, not expecting him to pull her forward. Before she could even react to his hand holding onto hers, he let go as they began to walk. She bit her lip, not sure how to begin the conversation.
"This is, uh, a new map?" Pomni asked meekly.
"Nonsense! It's part of the digital forest. I just added a few extra details," Caine explained, reaching out and picking a flower as proof. He held it out to her. "For you, dear."
Her heart skipped a beat. Did he know what he was doing to her? Was he trying to make her flustered? Even so, she took the flower in her hands, careful not to make contact with his hand. "...thanks," was all she could say.
Caine nodded, and for a moment all was quiet as they walked down the sunlit pathway. "I...can't help but notice that you haven't been participating in the adventures lately."
Pomni held back a sigh. She knew there was no avoiding this topic, but she still resented the fact that he brought it up. "Mhm."
"...Why is that? If I may ask."
Pomni twisted the flower's stem in her hands, looking at how the flower lacked proper rendering or detail. "Just haven't been feeling up to it," she murmured.
"In what way?"
Pomni blinked. "I-I don't know, Caine. I just haven't."
She still wasn't meeting his gaze, so he tilted his head so he was in her field of vision. She blushed and looked to the side, hoping he wouldn't move to her other side.
"Hm. Perhaps the others were right," Caine said thoughtfully, holding his cane in his hands.
Pomni internally panicked. Oh, God, they weren't telling him she had feelings for him, were they? "The others were right? How?" she asked, hoping her nerves weren't showing.
If Caine could blush, he surely would have by now. He lowered his gaze to the grass as the continued walking. "Oh...well...they've been saying that you're...avoiding me," he said sheepishly, before piping up, "I-I'm sure that they were jumping to conclusions but--"
Pomni squeezed her eyes shut. "It's fine, Caine."
Caine fidgeted with his cane again. "I have to admit, darling, I've missed our lessons."
Pomni smiled half-heartedly. Their 'lessons' as he called them, were simple conversations about the real world. To him, he considered them lessons on the human mind. But to her, it gave her someone to talk to. "I have, too," she admitted.
Caine didn't say anything for a moment, likely storing her saying she had missed him to his memory. "Then, dear, why haven't we seen much of each other?" He hesitated, then, "...have you been avoiding me?"
Pomni felt sick. She couldn't possibly lie to him in good conscience. "...yes."
Caine's colors seemed to lose their saturation, shoulders sinking at her confession. "I...I see," he mustered, voice laced with heartbreak.
Pomni turned to look at him for the first time today, her heart sinking at the sight of his shoulders slumped, eyes faced downwards. From his perspective, she had been avoiding him for no reason. His first real friend, leaving him behind. Guilt hit her like a truck. "Oh, Caine, no. No, I-it's not like that, really," she tripped over her words, trying to make him feel better because the sight of him sad was so damn depressing.
"I've...often been told I'm annoying the others. If that was the case here, I don't blame you for taking space," he replied quietly.
Pomni bit her lip. Looking to her side, she saw a red flower in the same shade of his suit. She picked it before stepping in front of him, leaning down into his field of vision the same way he had done for her. He stopped walking.
"Caine...I wasn't avoiding you because of you. You didn't do anything wrong, okay? I-It was all me," Pomni reassured.
Caine glanced up. "I...didn't do anything wrong?"
Pomni shook her head. "I promise."
Caine considered her words for a moment.
"I...I really, really like our time together, Caine. You don't bother me, I like when you're around. You're my...friend," Pomni added, smiling softly at him.
His eyes met hers for the first time today, sending butterflies fluttering in Pomni's stomach. "Really?"
Pomni held out the flower further. "Really. I mean it, Caine."
Color gradually returned to his form, a smile forming across his teeth. "Oh, dear..." he looked at the flower, clearly touched by the gift. He never received gifts from the others, so this...this was something special.
He met her eyes again and reached out for the flower, but decided to take it a step further. His hand slid around hers, cupping the hand that was holding the flower out to him. Pomni's breath hitched, her pupils dilating as he gazed into her eyes lovingly.
"My dear Pomni," was all he said, for he was too touched by her words to say anything else.
The butterflies fluttered in Pomni's stomach more than ever. She shivered slightly at the sound of his voice, so laced with emotion when he said her name, calling her his, looking at her so lovingly--
Caine snapped out of his daze at the sight of her shivering. He nearly snapped his fingers to help her feel warmer, but he suddenly recalled something she had told him one night. Wearing others clothes was a sign of intimacy, whatever that meant--all he knew is this felt pretty intimate. He shrugged off his coat and wrapped it around her instead. "I can't let you get any more sick, now can I?" he winked at her, referencing her poor excuse for her absence earlier.
Pomni blushed to the tips of her ears when he winked at her. They were in the middle of a sunlit path, gazing into each others' eyes, gifting each other flowers, and now she was wearing his coat--God, it was almost like he was trying to make her blush. She suddenly felt very hot, simultaneously wanting to take off his coat to cool down but, shamefully, also never wanting to take it off.
"Heh, yeah..." was all she could say, because if she said anything else she was sure he'd notice the tremble in her voice.
He smiled at her adorable reaction. "I must say, it suits you quite well, my dear. You could almost challenge my position as ringmaster!"
If she could blush anymore, she certainly did from his compliment. It almost made her laugh, how much he was making her feel tingly and fluttery without even trying. "Maybe I will," she teased.
Caine had to resist flying in the air from happiness. She was acting back to normal with him--albeit a bit shyer than usual, but no matter--and he loved it. "Ah ah ah, careful, dear. If you're coming for my job then I have to warn you, I was coded to be this charming."
Pomni giggled at his comment. "Really? You'd be surprised, I can put on quite the show."
"I won't believe it until I see it," Caine challenged.
"Hah, you will. And when you do, you'll have to wear this hat and I'll wear yours."
Caine looked at her in thought, smiling at the way she looked in his coat. "Really? Me in a jester hat? And you in mine? I'd like to see it," he said, but he wasn't sure If he was talking about the show anymore.
Pomni grinned at the idea, the image itself quite funny yet also endearing.
"Well, if that challenge is all settled, how about we finish our walk through the grounds?" Caine offered, gesturing to the path ahead.
Pomni allowed herself to touch the collar of the jacket, tightening it around herself. "Uh-huh," she said, her confidence gradually returning.
"Fantastic!" Caine's feet nearly floated above the ground from how thrilled he was that they were on good terms again. They continued their walk through the grounds, nearing the end of the digital forest and catching a glimpse of the nearby carnival.
They stopped at the edge of the lake where Pomni glanced subtly at her reflection. In the back of her mind, she knew she was doing it to make sure she didn’t look silly in front of Caine. She was well aware of his gaze now. It could burn a hole right through her.
The sight of her wearing Caine’s coat made her blush, somehow both embarrassed and pleased. On one hand, wearing his coat seemed like a big jump when she was still adjusting to her strong feelings. On the other hand…it felt nice to be wrapped in something of his. Her stomach fluttered again at the thought, emotions so strong she almost felt sick.
Caine carefully approached her. “If I may ask, darling,” he began, fiddling with his cane again behind his back, “if I didn’t do anything to scare you off, then why were you avoiding me?”
Pomni snapped out of her thoughts. “Oh, um…I don’t know…” she rushed to think of an explanation. A half-truth, maybe. Something that wasn’t a lie or a confession. She definitely wasn’t ready for that yet—she was barely able to accept she even had feelings to begin with.
Caine blinked curiously at her, awaiting her response. “You don’t know?”
Pomni’s heart thumped in her chest. “Oh, no—I mean well, I do know, i-it’s not that I don’t, but, it’s sort of hard to explain, you know? Personal stuff. Just been uh, busy in my thoughts, heh…” she sputtered out nonsense, shrinking in embarrassment at how visibly flustered she was becoming.
Caine tilted his head curiously. “My dear, are you feeling alright? You seem a bit out of sorts.”
Oh, God. He noticed. She knew she was hiding from him for a reason. “Huh? O-oh, that? It’s nothing, really Caine, I mean I feel okay. I feel fine. I had a reason for avoiding you, and it wasn’t because you did something wrong, but…”
She met his gaze as she trailed off, blushing at the sight of his curious eyes on her, waiting patiently for a response. Her breath caught in her throat. God, did she really like him that much? That all her thoughts just froze in time like that?
“Well, I…” she sighed, taking another deep breath before continuing, “I…have been thinking. About you. N-not in a weird way, just…contemplating things.”
“You’ve been thinking about me? Pomni, I was thinking about you! Isn’t that fantastic?” Caine piped up, floating a bit in the air as he spoke up.
“Huh? Oh, yeah. But I mean…not like that. I was just worried. About things being weird. Things changing,” Pomni admitted, feeling the heat return in her face as she confessed.
Caine grabbed Pomni’s hands lightly to comfort her. “How would things change?”
Her heart sped up at his touch. “I-I…I just know we’re getting closer. And sometimes, for humans, that can be scary,” Pomni tried to explain. Her heart was beating rapidly, butterflies still fluttering around in her stomach nervously. Admittedly, she was scared—her feelings were growing stronger now that she was spending time with him, not going away like she had hoped. She was terrified, even.
Caine pulled out a comically small notebook and large pencil, allegedly writing down what she said. “I see, I see. And humans feel fear when they form bonds with others because…?”
Pomni clutched her arm, looking down at the lake again in thought. She thought about the way he had wrapped the coat around her so gently, how it looked on her shoulders knowing it was normally around his, and she sighed feeling herself heart beating again. “Because it makes you vulnerable. To getting hurt. Losing someone, embarrassing yourself…you know…”
Caine nodded as he jotted down what she said before the notebook and pencil disappeared in a poof. “Is that what you’re afraid of, Pomni?” he asked gently.
Pomni’s eyes widened at the question. “Um, yeah…I think so.”
“So, you avoided me because we’ve become friends, and that scared you because it could lead to losing me or embarrassing yourself. Do I have that correct?”
Pomni hesitated. She couldn’t exactly say the truth. Well, what it really is is that I have suddenly developed strong romantic feelings for you and I didn’t want to admit it or let it grow but now I can’t deny it and am afraid of letting it show in front of you or the others and ultimately humiliating myself.
“Pomni…?”
“What? Oh, yes.” Pomni snapped out of her thoughts.
Caine’s hold on her hands grew slightly tighter. “Dear, I could never hate you. Or leave you. Or even make fun of you, for whatever reason that may be. Every moment I spend with you is another opportunity for me to become even more advanced, and to understand you better. How could I ever judge?”
Pomni laughed half-heartedly. “Yeah…I guess it sounds a bit of a stupid fear when you put it like that.”
“It’s not stupid. It makes sense. And, well…” he placed a finger on his chin in thought, “I think with what you’ve told me, I can guess I’m feeling the same way. In fact, I think that’s why I seemed so worried about having done something to scare you off. Does that sound right? Was I experiencing fear like you?”
Pomni bit her lip. He certainly wasn’t experiencing fear like her, assuming he didn’t suddenly develop a massive crush on her. “Yes,” she said in spite of it all, “that’s a very human thing to feel, Caine.”
Caine lifted off the ground at that, swirling in the air a bit in excitement. “At this rate, I’m becoming more human every day! And it’s all thanks to you, Pomni,” he flew down to her level, pulling the flower he had given her out of his coat pocket.
“That, you are. Heh. Thanks again, Caine,” she smiled, finding his excitement cute. “And um…I’m sorry. For avoiding you these past days? I owe you a lot for all the adventures I missed.”
“All in the past, my dear!” He put an arm around her and brought her close in excitement. “Now how about we enjoy some time at the digital carnival before the others get back! You can tell me allll about your favorite human traditions!”
Pomni giggled again, holding a hand up over her mouth. “Alright, alright. But you’ll have to win some of those games to get information out of me,” she smirked.
“Gasp! Are you suggesting some sort of friendly competition?” Caine placed his hands on his chin in cartoonish shock.
Pomni crossed her arms. “Something like that. Let’s see how much you can get out of me before the others come back.”
Caine laughed. “Oh, dear, you never fail to impress me. Show me what you’ve got, because I must warn you—I am exceptionally talented at carnival games,” he said proudly.
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Pomni repeated his words from earlier.
Caine spun through the air before grabbing for her hand. “Then let’s not waste any time, dear!”
Pomni returned his grip on her hand, not quite as afraid of the butterflies anymore. “Show me what you’ve got, ringmaster.”
A/N: I wrote like half of this at the same time as taking a test, I kept switching tabs and going between showtime and sociology. the showtime grind is real
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marsmarauders · 3 days
Text
folklore (Marauder's Version)
Welcome back to another episode of Mo and Marls going insane :) @idkjustlemmedrownlikerab and I overanalyzed every single song on folklore… (the BEST Taylor Swift album, no discussion).
Also, we first discussed this one like a month ago and I didn't take very detailed notes, so if I missed anything Mo, let me know!
Sorry, it took a bit longer for this one to come out… I’m trying my best here. 😭
Let’s get into it, shall we?
the 1
So we all know how James changed, right? Like how he grew out of the bullying and mistreatment? I think part of that maturity came from Jegulus. The experience of being in a relationship with someone who is the complete and utter opposite of you would probably take a lot of emotional maturity. (And immaturity, hence why he left him when he did). And obviously, Regulus would not have betrayed Voldomort if he hadn’t first gone through the worst of it all. If it was all sunshine and rainbows being a death eater, why on earth would he have changed his mind? Like the song says, they never would’ve matured and grown if it weren’t for the fallout of their relationship.
“And if you wanted me, you really should've showed. And if you never bleed, you're never gonna grow.”
“To kiss in cars, and downtown bars was all we needed. You drew stars around my scars, but now I’m bleeding.”
cardigan
Yeah, I know the cliche. That’s literally the most quoted Wolfstar coded song lyric in the history of Taylor Swift songs, so instead, let me bring up verse 3.
This part of the song perfectly encapsulates how I think Remus felt after October 31st, 1981. Sirius would always be there in the back of his mind, whether it be the ghost of his slips or the scent of smoke. Even though he didn’t want to feel that way about Sirius anymore, considering the weight of the crimes that Sirius had supposedly committed, he still felt that way because the younger him was insistent that Sirius was the one. And some part of him knew that even though destiny fought against them, they’d end up together again. (Not for long- cough).
“But I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss. I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs. The smell of smoke would hang around this long. 'Cause I knew everything when I was young. I knew I'd curse you for the longest time. Chasin' shadows in the grocery line. I knew you'd miss me once the thrill expired. And you'd be standin' in my front porch light. And I knew you'd come back to me.”
“Who knows, if I never showed up, what could've been. There goes the loudest person this town has ever seen. I had a marvelous time ruining everything.”
the last great american dynasty
So first off, let’s completely ignore the word American in this scenario. Second off, my interpretation is different from the actual meaning of the song. Instead of blaming women from a sexist point of view, I’m instead using the motif that everyone was (rightfully) blaming the death eaters for the war. Does that make sense? Okay.
So when Mo first brought up the idea that this song was about Regulus, it took me a minute to understand where she was coming from (Not because it was a bad idea, not at all. This is just not my particular favorite song off of folklore). But the fact that one of the lyrics is “there goes the maddest women (person in this case) this town has ever seen, really sold it for me.
We may all argue that Barty was the maddest of all the death eaters, considering the lengths he went for Voldemort, but up until the betrayal, Regulus was literally the #1 Voldemort stan. He was mad. If he’d never “shown up,” yeah, some things might’ve been better. But to figure out the Horcruxs, he kind of had to go down that path. So in the final chorus, I honestly think it’s Regulus, 6 feet under, mocking everyone who hated him, because without him, Voldemort would’ve never been defeated.
“I think I've seen this film before, and I didn't like the ending.”
exile
This song is the dynamic I picture Wolfstar having after reuniting. Not in the shrieking shack, but outside of school. There were two conflicting sides to the story, but both left them in shambles. And now that they know the truth, they’re too scared to risk it again. Because what’s the point of trying again if they’re only going to die in the end?
The bridge gets this point across perfectly. When Taylor echos Justin’s singing with a second perspective of the story, that captures Sirius and Remus perfectly. Because from Remus’s perspective, Sirius didn’t give him any kind of heads up that he thought Remus himself to be the traitor. Sirius never gave him the time of day to hear him out! But obviously, Sirius tried giving signs, such as 1: keeping the Potter’s secret keeper extremely confidential to the point that he wouldn’t even tell his partner and 2: arguing with Remus about where he was at night. But how could Remus have known that? He couldn’t read Sirius’s mind! They were falling so quickly that there was no way to stop it.
Now that they know the truth, however, they’re learning to forgive each other and move past it. But how can they when they’re just as in love with each other as they were before? Why would they risk it all if it could disappear all the same? They knew how this movie ended, why would they watch it again?
“And I can go anywhere I want. Anywhere I want, just not home.”
my tears ricochet
This song is Sirius to many people all at once, so let me break it down a little.
The majority of the song is Sirius to the people who believed him to be the spy. To have killed his best friends. The fact that he was never given a chance to explain himself and was just locked up; he’s feeling a lot of resentment. Sirius wants to know why on earth they care so much about it when he was “suppoedly” the one to have destroyed everything. Why is the focus on him? Why aren’t they focused on James or Lily or Marlene or Dorcas or the people who died in the war? If he’s dead to them, then why do they act like he exists?
The bridge is him towards Regulus. Regulus died, for reasons that Sirius will probably never know. He talks to the Regulus star, because it’s all he has left, even though he left him years ago. He probably wonders if Regulus saved himself from ending up like Sirius. He probably wonders if Regulus was right. Not about pureblood supremacy, but about keeping quiet and leaving it be.
I think the last chorus is Sirius towards Peter. Throwing Sirius under the bus will only disadvantage Peter in the long run. Why would you willingly stay a rat for 13 years?
"I'm a mirrorball. I can change everything about me to fit in. You are not like the regulars. The masquerade revelers. Drunk as they watch my shattered edges glisten."
mirrorball
Mirrorball was a little tricky at first cause it's just kind of ✨ominous manipulation✨ to be quite honest and at first, I think Mo was thinking Sirius? But then I kind of looked deeper into the lyrics that I listed above and was like "Hear me out… It's Peter's internal monologue convincing himself into becoming a death eater." and we were both like "Woah."
seven
"Sweet tea in the summer, cross my heart won't tell no other."
So, I think we can all come to the agreement that from the bridge to the end of the song, it's James talking to Sirius. This kind of pure, compassionate, and beautiful friendship is such a special part of this fandom. They had such a special bond and I think that they're basically the definition of "Chosen Family."
However, the more I think about it, I think that everything from before the bridge is incredibly Regulus and Pandora coded. The difference between the Black Brother's closest friendships and how that kind of influenced their decisions. James gave Sirius a safe space, whereas Pandora was Regulus's safe space. Do you understand what I'm getting at?
august
So, I haven’t read ATYD but I know the basic concept of who Grant Chapman is and what he did and all that, and Mo was very insistent on this song being Grant, and I completely agree.
“So much for summer love and saying “us,” cause you weren’t mine to lose.”
Grant was a stand-in for Sirius in some way. I think both he and Remus knew that, but Grant fell for Remus, he couldn’t help it! And he knew Remus loved him, but he wasn’t Sirius and he’d never be Sirius. But that doesn’t make it any less bittersweet for Grant, knowing that Remus is happier off with Sirius. In the same way that Jegulus was necessary for James’s character growth, Grant was necessary for Remus’s.
this is me trying
So I was certain this was Black Brothers and Mo was certain this was Regulus, so I’m gonna mix them. In the bridge specifically, I can see Regulus longing for Sirius after he left. The parties? The weird pureblood cult meetings his family had. It was hard for Regulus to even walk around their house because it was not the same without Sirius. The “one screen in his town” is Sirius being Regulus’s only escape. (Cause you watch movies on a screen? And movies tend to be an escape from reality? Look at me. I’m smart). And Regulus is also struggling with this internal battle because if he leaves, he’ll put himself and Sirius in danger, but if he stays, he’ll have to do things he knows deep down in his heart he doesn’t want to do. This is him trying.
“And it's hard to be at a party when I feel like an open wound. It's hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you. You're a flashback in a film reel on the one screen in my town.”
“It's born from just one single glance. But it dies and it dies and it dies a million little times.”
illicit affairs
Okay, before I get into this song, I want to clarify that we’re not implying that any of these characters were unfaithful.
There’s a difference between an affair (long- term cheating) and an affair (a pastime experience). I’m not the kind of person to promote cheating or adultery in my stories, because I think it’s such a frustrating topic to discuss. I wouldn’t ship people who went out of their way to hurt their partners. That being said, the word “affair” here is being used in the same way the words “event” or “incident” would. Obviously the word “illicit” means forbidden, so our interpretation of “illicit affairs” is just a “secret relationship.”
I think you might understand who I’m getting at here… if you guessed Jegulus, you’d be correct! James and Regulus were a secret, but not in the way you think. Their friends knew, Sirius knew, James’s parents probably knew, but Regulus’s family could not know. No one outside of their circle could know. (Reminds me of another Taylor Swift lyric. “You kept me like a secret, but I kept you like an oath.” James kept Regulus as a secret, only because Regulus wanted him to, but Regulus held on to James like he was his life support). It was almost as if they were having an affair, and like most affairs, they die.
Also, the bridge; lets discuss.
The first part of the bridge is James to Regulus. James was a mess after leaving Regulus because he couldn’t fix him. He couldn’t help him. (Well actually, he might’ve been able to but he left when Regulus needed him the most so-) The “colors” that Regulus showed him were 1: that the world isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, 2: that James cannot fix everything, and 3: the maturity that James gained from their relationship.
“And you wanna scream don't call me "kid," don't call me "baby.” Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me. You showed me colors you know I can't see with anyone else.”
Again, Regulus was ripped to shreds after their break up, and he made some really foolish choices afterwards. The so-called “secret language” that James taught him, was vulnerability. Sure, he can talk about things with Barty or Evan, but with James he wasn’t expected to pull himself together. He could just exist with James and everything would be fine. Until it wasn’t.
“Don't call me "kid," don't call me "baby.” Look at this idiotic fool that you made me. You taught me a secret language I can't speak with anyone else.”
“A string that pulled me. Out of all the wrong arms right into that dive bar. Something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire. Chains around my demons, wool to brave the seasons. One single thread of gold tied me to you”
invisble string
This one was tough, because there are so many couples that start out as these wholesome, pure, lovely relationships, but we quickly vetoed most of them.
Wolfstar: This song is literally about the concept of destiny and fate, and although Sirius and Remus were quite literally meant to be together, destiny kept pulling them apart.
Jily: I guess Jily are also quite literally the definition of fate, considering their matching patroni, the prophecy, etc. But Jily is also quite literally the definition of slow-burn, so again, this song doesn’t fit them.
Rosekiller: I guess you could argue they were fate, but they’re way too angsty.
Dorlene: Again, soulmates but way too angsty + they were rivals at the start.
This is where I came to the realization that every single couple in this fandom ends in tragic death… but then I thought about it some more.
Xenophilius and Pandora- JUST LET ME FINISH.
Yes, I am well aware that Pandora dies, but from what we know in canon, it was a freak accident. She wasn’t murdered like Marlene, Dorcas, the Potters, technically Evan, and Sirius (Yes, even if Sirius hadn’t fallen into the veil, he would’ve died). She didn’t risk her life like Regulus and Remus. She wasn’t driven to insanity like the Longbottoms and Barty (by the dementors kiss) She was experimenting, something she loved to do. She probably died happy for all we know!
I also think Pandora was probably esoteric (she believed in crystals, chakras, astrology, etc), so I think she also might’ve believed in fate. And considering the fact that Xenophilius and her relationship was so perfect, they probably were fate. They were classic friends to lovers, and they had the happiest ending out of all the marauders. Pandora was able to raise her daughter until she was nine, more than Lily and James ever got to do, and Xenophilius continued to raise Luna even after she died. (Yes, I’m aware he technically betrayed Harry, however we know he was a good person at heart and that prior to the Battle of Hogwarts, he openly supported Harry. The death eaters had kidnapped his daughter, I honestly don’t blame him that much.
Oh and also, Xenophilius was probably her only friend during her 7th year, considering 1: the older marauders had all graduated and 2: the pantheon’s falling out, so that’s why I used the lyrics I chose!
mad woman
For Mo, this song is blatantly Pandora, and for me it’s Dorcas. But, (again) it’s been a while since we discussed this, so I have a new narrative I’d like to propose to you. (Because we both had the same concept, just different characters.)
“Does a scorpion sting when fighting back? They strike to kill and you know I will.”
It’s both of them, from the perspective of Barty, Evan, and Regulus. They call them “mad women” because they don’t agree with their pureblood ideologies and want to be death eaters. The lyric “Everytime you call me crazy, I get more crazy,” feels like something Evan would think after all his fights with his sister. The lyric “It’s obvious that wanting me dead has really brought you two together,” seems like something Regulus would think. Obviously, I don’t think Pandora and Dorcas wanted him dead (considering the fact that Pandora definitely checked in on Regulus from time to time), but they wanted the bad part of him gone. And since they both left the rest of the Pantheon, that would’ve resulted in them growing closer.
And I guess in a way, they both went mad, but it’s up to your imagination. Dorcas went mad because she literally tried to go after the people who killed her girlfriend. And Pandora went mad because (if you headcanon this) she died trying to help Regulus destroy a horcrux.
If there was a song that played during a slow-motion montage of October 31st, 1981 the second Sirius finds out about the death and rushes over to the Potters, this would be it. It’s Sirius seeing his best friends lifeless body. The lyrics “With you I serve, with you I fall down,” symbolizes the way that when James “fell” (died), Sirius also “fell,” (falsely-accused) and even though it was unintentional, they went down together. Sirius felt like it was his fault. He switched the secret keeper and if only he’d trusted Remus enough, maybe it wouldn’t have happened.
Epiphany
“And some things you just can't speak about.”
"In the garden, would you trust me if I told you it was just a summer thing? I'm only 17, I don't know anything, but I know I miss you."
betty
Again, I'm using the concept of the "affair" love story in folklore as instead the story of a secret relationship, so no adultery was committed in the making of this post. 💀
Basically, I think this song is James's guilt when he's falling for Lily all over again, but he's still not completely over Regulus. (Of course, he and Regulus are dead and gone at this point, but it still lingers).
It's him thinking through what he would tell Lily if she ever asked him if he still loved Regulus. (I don't think Lily would've cared personally, lol).
Also in my mind I think this song has to be from James's perspective, solely because of the lyric "She said "James get in!" (I'm now literally realizing that that line is mentioning how he fell into the affair… well that ruins everything… scrap that idea).
Regulus and him were kind of an affair in the way that it was never meant to last. And also, while James may not have had feelings for Lily at that very moment, it was obvious that James was in love with both Regulus and Lily. (Again- no cheating).
I don't know, Betty's kind of a tough one.
peace
This song is about Jily. Lily finding peace in the friendship she has with James, Sirius, Remus, Peter, Marlene, Mary, everyone now that she's away from Severus. But she also knows there will never fully be peace with them, because of her blood status.
"Give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other. Family I chose now that I see your brother as my brother."
And she wants to know if she's enough for James, even though she knows he's knee deep in love with her, but she gets worried because what if they die? What if they don't get to live the life they'd always dreamed of living? No matter how wonderful their life may seem together, she knows that there's always darkness around the corner, and she wonders if it's because of her.
hoax
This song is how Remus feels knowing that the person he trusted the most in life with his deepest and darkest secrets was supposedly worthy of commiting a crime just as dark. That's it. Don't have much else to say here 😭
"You knew it still hurts underneath my scars when they pulled me apart but what you did was just as dark."
the lakes
If this song isn't Regulus Black, then we don't know what is.
"Take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die."
~
Okay wow that was a long one! If you made it this far, thank you!! Make sure to look out for Lover, coming soon to a theater near you!!!
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bumblingbabooshka · 4 months
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Voyager should have done a whole episode that was just a series of horror vignettes of the entire crew in increasingly malicious/difficult/terrifying situations that start off seeming like normal Voyager antics (Every main character gets their turn to 'star' in one scenario somehow tailored to them sans Harry who's conspicuously absent and the Doctor) and end with like, Janeway once again heroically sacrificing herself for the crew after finally figuring out what's wrong only for the episode to end exactly how it began. Only the first scenario plays out until the very end, every subsequent scenario ends faster and more brutally than the last and as the episode progresses we see the crew retaining scars or pains from previous deaths we witnessed though to them these wounds are mysterious or they give a narratively coherent reason for having them. Though there are some clues as to what's happening this largely remains unexplained and unresolved until the NEXT episode which is 'The Killing Game'. Everyone would have loved this! They would have cheered and clapped!
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lazylittledragon · 14 days
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ok someone please correct me if i'm wrong but am i weird for thinking those 'audiobooks don't count as reading' posts are ableist as fuck????
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 6 months
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Swapping tips on how to be a bestie in the bath.
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