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#peace based on justice
halkonensis · 1 year
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Rumaragasang ilog ang katarungan:
Ang masaker sa pamilya Fausto at ang Kristiyanong pagsisikap para sa kapayapaan
Sa halip ay padaluyin ninyo ang katarungan, gaya ng isang ilog; gayundin ang katuwiran tulad ng isang di natutuyong batis. Amos 5:24 MBBTAG
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Trigger warning: graphic descriptions of military violence
Nakagigimbal ang pagpaslang ng pamilya Fausto, mga magsasaka at kapanalig ng Iglesia Filipina Independiente (IFI), sa kamay ng mga kagawad ng 94th Infantry Battalion ng Philippine Army (IBPA), sa Barangay Buenavista, Himamaylan City, Negros Oriental noong Hunyo 14.
Kumikintil pa rin sa diwa ang mga litrato ng kubong tinutuluyan ng mag-anak: mga duguang bangkay na nakalaylay sa pintuan at sa hagdan. Apat na katawang balot sa puting tela, nakahandusay sina Roly Fausto, ama; Emelda Fausto, ina; at sina Ben at Ravin, mga anak.
Sinasalaysay lamang ng mga litrato ang isang parte ng kuwento. Marami pang mga pinagkakait ang 94th IBPA at ang Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP) na mga detalye.
Ayon sa September 21 Movement, isang grupo para sa karapatang pantao, matagal nang target ng panliligalig ang mga Fausto sapagkat kasapi ang pamilya ng Baklayan, Bito, and Cabagal Farmers and Farmworkers Association (BABICAFA). Kasama sa mga ginawang paglabag sa karapatang pantao ng mga kagawad ng 94th IBPA ang panunutok ng sundang kay Emelda, pagnanakaw, pangtotortyur kay Roly upang pasukuin bilang di-umanong kasabwat ng New People’s Army (NPA), at pangraransak sa bahay, bago ang sukdulang pangmamasaker sa mag-anak.
Ngunit sa pag-iral ng kasamaan ng AFP, imbes na itaguyod ang hustisya at panagutin ang mga maysala sa kanilang hanay, pilit nilang binabalahura ang alaala ng pamilya sa pamamagitan ng pagbabaluktot sa katotohanan. Ayon kay Orlando Edralin, opisyal ng 94th IBPA, sa isang panayam sa DNX News, asset daw ng militar si Roly na nais nang bumaklas sa pagkakasabwat mula sa NPA, at ang pumatay raw sa mga Fausto ay ang mga NPA, bagay na pinabulaanan ng kaanak ng mga biktima.
Kade-kadenang Paglabag sa Karapatang Pantao
Di makakaila ang track record ng AFP (at ng estado sa pangkabuuan) sa karapatang pantao. Sa kasamaang-palad, pinupuno lamang ito ng mga paglabag.
Sa Guihulngan City, Negros Oriental, minasaker noong Hulyo 22, 2022 ng pinagsanib na puwersa ng 62nd IBPA at PNP ang 18 taong gulang na si Everly Kee Jacolbe, buntis niyang ina na si Maria Christina Jacolbe, at kamag-anak na si Rodan Montero, matapos ang walang-humpay na red-tagging at pagpapahirap.
Sa ulat naman ng Karapatan Negros, pinatay naman noong Enero 9 ang magsasakang si Jose Gonazales sa Barangay Carabalan, Himamaylan City ng 94th IBPA, kapwa mga kagawad ding pumaslang sa mga Fausto. Nilapastangan pa ng mga sundalo ang bangkay ni Gonzales sa pagparada nito bilang babala sa mga mamamayan sa di-umanong rebelyon, ngunit pinasinungalingan ito ng mag-anak ng pinaslang.
Kamakailan lang din, nagsagawa ng seminar ang NTF-Elcac na primaryang pinatatakbo ng kasundaluhan sa mga pagawaan ng Philfoods Fresh Baked Products Inc. at Gardenia Bakeries, Phils. sa probinsya ng Laguna upang pigilan ang pagtatayo at paglakas ng unyon ng mga manggagawa. Di nagpapigil ang mga sundalong i-red-tag ang Unyon ng Panadero-Gardenia Bakeries, Phils. (PANADERO-OLALIA-KMU) at paratangang NPA ang opisyal nitong si Rhoel Alconera. Ganito ring panliligalig ang ginagawa ng mga kagawad ng NTF-Elcac at mga sundalo sa mga pagawaan tulad ng Wyeth-Nestle at Fuji sa Laguna.
Ang Kristiyanong Sagot: Kapayapaang batay sa Katarungan
Ngunit sa harap ng lantarang paglabag sa karapatang pantao, ano ang dapat itugon ng kabataang Kristiyano?
Ang sagot ay nakasaad sa Banal na Aklat: pagsikapang matamo ang kapayapaang nakabatay sa katarungan. (Isa 2:4, Mik. 4:3, Joel 4:10)
Batay sa katotohanang ang tao ay nilalang na kawangis ng Diyos, ang katarungan ay ang pagtataguyod ng dignidad ng bawat buhay ng tao. Nilalapastangan ng rehimeng Marcos-Duterte ang dignidad na ito sa porma ng pagkakait ng pagtataas ng sahod, pagpapabayang tumaas ang presyo ng bilihin, kawalan ng reporma sa lupa, hindi pagsasaayos ng matagalang krisis sa edukasyon, at pagpapatahimik sa mga balidong daing ng mamamayan. Isama pa ang pagdaragdag ng base-militar ng US sa lupain ng Pilipinas, pagraratsada ng Mandatory ROTC, at pagtutulak sa Maharlika Wealth Fund.
Kung totoo ngang kapayapaan ang nais makamit ng rehimen gamit ang mga galamay nito tulad ng AFP at PNP, ano ba ang pagpapakahulugan nila sa kapayapaan? Ito ang kalagayang wala nang lumalaban sa kanila upang magawa ang lahat ng gusto nila at makuha ang lahat ng luho nila.
Labis naman itong kaiba sa kapayapaan para sa sambayanang Pilipino. Simple ang hangad: magkaroon ng marangal na kabuhayan, tamang oras ng masustansyang pagkain, tirahang sasanggala mula sa init at ulan, karapatan sa pagpapahayag, at edukasyon ng mga kabataan. Kung ikukumpara sa kasalukuyang kalagayan, talagang nakaririndi ang kawalan ng kapayapaan lalo na at nabubuhay ang sambayanan sa panahon ng kawalang-katarungan.
Bilang mga kabataang Kristiyano naghahangad ng kapayapaan at nagtataguyod ng katarungan, kailangang balikan ang Mabuting Balita ayon kay Lucas. Mula sa pagsasalaysay, sinabi ni Cristo na kaakibat ng pagsunod sa kanya ang pagtatakwil sa sarili at pagpapasan sa krus (9:23). Mapapatotoo natin ang pangakong Kaharian ng Diyos dito sa lupa sa pagsunod natin kay Jesus. Dapat nating iwaksi ang pagkamakasarili sa pamamagitan ng pag-ugnay ng problema ng kabataan sa mas malawak na problemang kinahaharap ng sambayanang Pilipino. Ang krus na papasanin natin ay ang mabigat na krus ng aktibong pagbaka at pakikibaka laban sa namamayaning kasamaang nagpapahirap sa bayan ng Diyos.
Wika nga ni Jesus sa kanyang sermon sa bundok, “Pinagpala ang mga gumagawa ng paraan sa kapayapaan, sapagkat sila’y ituturing na mga anak ng Diyos.” (Mt. 5:9 MBBTAG) Gayong mahaba ang landasin ng Kalbaryo para sa Kristiyanong kabataan at sambayanang lumalaban, tayo rin ang bubukalan ng katuwiran upang dumaloy ang katarungang parang ilog (Amos 5:24).
Magsumikap para sa kapayapaan! Paragasain natin ang ilog ng katarungan!
Hustisya para sa pamilya Fausto! Singilin ang 94th IBPA at ang rehimeng Marcos-Duterte!
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agentfascinateur · 4 months
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The importance of recognizing Palestine
• It corrects the historical record of previously negating its natural continuity
• It rectifies the false premise of a second-tier citizenry
• It welcomes Palestine in its rightful, senior place at the international table
• It respects its destiny and creates a safe space for its national future
• It promotes reconciliation
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lordzannis · 18 days
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Based on the search results and the query about Greens Japan in 2024, here are the key points:
Current leadership: As of 2024, the co-representatives of Greens Japan are Namiho Matsumoto, Hisao Hashimoto, and Hitoshi Nakayama.
Electoral representation:
House of Councillors: 0 seats / 245 seats (0.0%)
House of Representatives: 0 seats / 465 seats (0.0%)
Prefectural Assemblies: 2 seats / 2,609 seats (0.0%)
Municipal Assemblies: 31 seats / 29,762 seats (0.2%)
Party membership: As of the most recent data available, Greens Japan has 860 members.
Recent developments:
A female member of Greens Japan won a seat in the Tokyo Metropolitan Assembly, which the party celebrated as marking a new era in Tokyo.
The party has issued statements on various issues, including:
International Women's Day
Protesting the decision to release contaminated water from Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Plant
Opposition to military laws and the relaunch of the Sendai Nuclear Plant
Ongoing policies: The party continues to advocate for:
Reducing greenhouse gas emissions
Opposing nuclear power
Introducing a basic income system
Guaranteeing foreign suffrage for permanent residents
Reforming the electoral system
Opposing amendments to Article 9 of the Japanese Constitution
Collaboration: Greens Japan continues to work with civic groups, NGOs, and local green parties. For national elections, they often collaborate with other progressive parties.
While Greens Japan maintains an active presence in local politics and continues to advocate for environmental and progressive policies, they still face challenges in gaining representation at the national level.
Citations: [1] https://grjapan.com/insights/insights/japans-green-transformation-gx-plans [2] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Greens_Japan [3] https://greens.gr.jp/about/intro/english/ [4] https://en.namu.wiki/w/%EB%85%B9%EC%83%89%EB%8B%B9%20%EA%B7%B8%EB%A6%B0%EC%8A%A4%20%EC%9E%AC%ED%8C%AC [5] https://www.eu-japan.eu/news/eu-japan-green-transition-matchmaking-event-2024 [6] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_political_parties_in_Japan [7] https://www.ijcc.jp/events/green-ireland-festival-2024 [8] https://een.ec.europa.eu/events/green-mission-japan-2024
Based on the search results, here are the major achievements of Greens Japan since its founding in 2012:
Local representation: The party has elected a number of city council members and councillors in towns and cities across Japan. This gives them some representation at the local government level.
First Green mayor: On November 22, 2010, Kazumi Inamura became the first popularly elected Greens Japan mayor, winning in the city of Amagasaki. She was both the youngest mayor elected in Japan's history at age 38 and the first female mayor of that city.
Tokyo Metropolitan Assembly seat: A female member of Greens Japan won a seat in the Tokyo Metropolitan Assembly, which the party celebrated as marking a new era in Tokyo politics.
Prefectural and municipal seats: As of the most recent data, Greens Japan holds:
2 seats in prefectural assemblies
31 seats in municipal assemblies
Policy advocacy: The party has been active in issuing statements and advocating for key environmental and social policies, including:
Opposing nuclear power and protesting decisions related to the Fukushima nuclear plant
Advocating for women's rights and gender equality
Opposing certain military laws
Pushing for climate action and reduced greenhouse gas emissions
International cooperation: Greens Japan has become a member of the Global Greens, an international organization of green parties from about 90 countries and regions.
While Greens Japan has not won seats in the national Diet, these achievements show they have established some presence in local politics and continue to advocate for green policies at various levels of government.
Citations: [1] https://greens.gr.jp/about/intro/english/ [2] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Greens_Japan [3] https://en.namu.wiki/w/%EB%85%B9%EC%83%89%EB%8B%B9%20%EA%B7%B8%EB%A6%B0%EC%8A%A4%20%EC%9E%AC%ED%8C%AC [4] https://repo.lib.tokushima-u.ac.jp/files/public/6/65353/20170929141736769905/EID195340.pdf [5] https://tokyoesque.com/sdgs-how-greenery-day-contributes-to-japan/ [6] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_political_parties_in_Japan [7] https://grjapan.com/insights/insights/japans-green-transformation-gx-plans [8] https://sustainabledevelopment.un.org/memberstates/japan
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radiance1 · 3 months
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When the Justice League heard of Phantom, they believed they had to act quickly. Based on what they were told by the GIW, a branch of the government they had no knowledge of previously (Batman is working to correct that), the ghost was dangerous and extremely powerful.
A ghost that terrorized a small town that they GIW have tried-and failed- on numerous occasions to send back to the Ghost Zone. The GIW wouldn't have come to the Justice League for help if it were just that, but based on what they have claimed Phantom has achieved an inexplicable rise in power after having met with the King of ghosts himself.
If what they say is true, then ghosts could potentially invade and cause an all-out war with humanity that the Justice League would rather much avoid thank you.
Negotiations for peace or understanding have been repeatedly rejected and the GIW has been led to believe that Phantom has done something to the Fenton couple. The leading ecto-biologists in the world, years of research suddenly wiped clean off and acting much more cordial towards the ghost.
A complete 180.
So much so that you could even claim them to have been mind controlled. Which isn't outside the realm of possibility due to ghosts having an innate ability to overshadow others and control them.
Perhaps even the entire town has fallen under Phantom's control. Even another ghost, who had just been recently opposed to Phantom, has fallen under his control.
So the Justice League had to act fast.
---
Danny was fucked.
He could tell that very, very well. He still didn't have his entire new... dragon thing... under control very well, mostly sticking a half human like form. His powers were stronger yes but he couldn't really control them well.
Which is kinda why he's fucked.
Danny has never heard about the Justice League before, mostly because he had recently found out that apparently Amity Park was isolated. Like, extremely. Basically it's own little world cut off from the rest.
So when they appeared with the GIW he thought, hey, maybe they were finally changing their white suit shtick.
He didn't expect them to be extremely well-trained, have supernatural abilities or magic. Along with their usual tech well.
Yea.
Danny was fucked.
And he was very, very scared.
He's already died once but that didn't mean he wanted to die again, and he knows that he would probably be heavily experimented on if the GIW actually got their hands on him.
He was alone. He was surrounded. He was outnumbered. And he was oh, so very scared.
His family and friends had already fallen (thankfully not dead, just unconscious he thinks) and Vlad was occupied elsewhere, also fighting.
So Danny was alone.
No one would be coming to help him.
So what did he do?
He opened his mouth and did something he didn't do often. Despite that he could see that they somewhat recognized what he was about to do and tried to find cover.
Danny wasn't aiming at them.
He pulled his head back, mouth aimed at the sky.
Danny wailed.
It was waaaay more powerful than he had originally thought, so he was glad he aimed it at the sky.
As soon as it was over he felt drained, swaying on his feet and trying to use his tail to steady himself and not fall off his own claws.
They didn't know what was happening.
Danny just hoped it worked.
---
Neither the Justice League nor the GIW knew why Phantom shot one of his most powerful attacks up into the sky, but they did see the opportunity it presented.
Phantom was weak. Looking like he would fall off his own feet and fall unconscious.
They had to act quickly.
But before they could, from right where Phantom had wailed into the sky.
It cracked.
And continued to crack.
Until a large hole appeared in the sky, leading into a dimension of endless green.
The Infinite Realms.
They believed Phantom was trying to retreat.
They were wrong.
Two roars came from the portal, forcing everyone to cover their ears.
Then.
Something came out of the portal.
A long, serpentine dragon flowed out, flying around the area of the crack before descending down and around Phantom.
Then.
A giant claw grabbed onto the edge of the crack. Pushing against it until it broke, forcing the hole bigger and bigger as a much, much larger dragon stepped out. Standing protectively over the serpentine dragon and Phantom.
A large crown wrapped in flame floating about its head signified its status.
The Ghost King.
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faithslayer202 · 1 year
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youtube
I thank @socialismforall for giving a shoutout for Green Socialist Organizing Project which me, Garret & Chris are helping build the Green Party into a Mass Membership Party.
Please do share, we could use new people into the cause like for helping create video clips!
Accounts to reach me out too:
Facebook: (https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100012525635124)
Tumblr: (https://www.tumblr.com/blog/faithslayer202)
Twitter: (https://twitter.com/Faithslayer202)
YouTube: (https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCWNmH4eW7NS_XlAdUxuQzNA)
Soundcloud: (https://soundcloud.com/nathaniel-gregory-40922200)
Instagram: (https://www.instagram.com/Faithslayer202/)
Mastodon: (https://mastodon.social/@Faithslayer202)
Discord: (Faithslayer202#9316)
Examples of what videos were crafting for Green Socialist!
CLIPS: Ecosocialism 101 Session 2 (2022):(https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLDTC9USV5d-FJB9d1XTJxl1Vt-Z-SepKe)
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sillystringpasta · 29 days
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so, i see all these aus where danny gets help from the justice league for the anti ecto acts, and they're great. but hear me out. ghost king danny. classic setup, acts need to be repealed or war.
so danny goes to the league, of course.
the league of assassins.
Ra's is already familiar with death, and ghosts, and the realms. ya man's had the lazarus pits for centuries, he knows a little bit of what's what. maybe there's already some trade relations going on. more importantly, he has a massive group of hyper competent people who can pull strings in the government very stealthily, and have no outside affiliation or loyalty to that government.
but why not the JL? most of them are based in the USA. they work with the government (danny assumes). surely they are aware of the Acts. surely they would conform to them, enforce them.
so ghost king danny meets with ra's, who gives rancid vibes, but is able to, and wants to, do a smear campaign against the JL. against the USA. to gain favor with the guy who is the king of his most sacred resource, and knowledge about how to use the Pits to gain some basic liminal powers.
danny doesn't like the solution, exactly. but he's king. and this is what will protect his people. this is what will get expedient results. this is what his advisors who will still permit peace will allow.
so danny takes the deal with Ra's.
the initial outrage begins online, perhaps through MikMok. a mega famous influencer is cosplaying as superman, doing a twerking sort of dance to the most current haha funni meme song. the text overlay reads: when the superheroes condone genocide because they aren't human, ANTI-ECTO ACTS (whatever law/section code they were passed in).
it goes viral. and then someone finds the Acts (prodded along by the League) and it goes from a hit sensation online to every. single. news outlet flooding with information (puppeted by the League).
is this real? the Acts are real. but why? if these people(?) don't exist, why the Acts? the outrage. the mass confusion. the conspiracies. the new subgeddits and trending xitter tags. 4kun greentext be me: a ghost, becomes the new thing.
at this point, the GIW are scrambling to keep their involvment on the downlow. there are acts, sure, but they're not enforced :DDDD
vlad is in a similar situation. he cloned a guy. he def experimented on other ghosts to get to that level of knowledge. naturally, this is about when lex luthor gets involved. because, wouldn't you know it, but project CADMUS? yeah. that was a collab with DalvCo. they both wanted non-human clones from green stuff. they got it, and now luthor's sitting on some unpretty information.
he promptly shoves vlad under the bus, which is rapidly becoming less of a bus and more a trainwreck.
the league is surprised this happened, but goes with it.
the US governemnt is still trying to deny, deny, deny.
it's at this point that the JL gets themselves together. they don't know if the papers by Drs fenton are biased, or if ecto entities really are mindless creatures bent on destruction.
constantine says they're biased. green lantern concurs.
they decide to summon an ecto entity and find out what is going on.
danny is pretty stressed. it's a stressful situation. he's on break for the first time since they got a solution to this problem. he's not gonna answer a summoning. he has people to do that for him.
so they don't get the ghost king.
but they do get-
dani. and jazz. at the same time.
maximum possible psychic damage.
in the room at the watchtower is the big 3, green lantern, martian manhunter, flash, constantine, zatanna, raven, and black canary (legends of tomorrow experience? cool headed? there for arrow who is busy?).
dani doesn't like superman. he treats clones badly. jazz doesn't like batman, see Arkham.
dani doesn't know who c, z, raven, or bc are. jazz kinda knows of them, but not well.
so the actual negotiations go down with WW and MM.
they have a lot of questions. dani (abomination form) introduces jazz (basic looking human) as a princess of the realms. jazz says that the Acts are real, the realms want war, go suck a creamsickle (that was dani), they want restitution for the lives lost from the GIW.
then they leave the JL wondering who the GIW are.
someone (LoA) manages to hack the watchtower and post the meeting online as soon as it happens. or maybe they livestreamed it on Switch.
my spamblr, the result of my space buying tumblr in 1999, gains its first sexy women (jazz). jazz/WW fiction springs up on AOL3 overnight.
the GIW goes public. they try to push the envelop of ghosts being non-sentient. they try to use jazz being ambassador for that meeting to help their case. the JL is fighting accuations, but they are being pidgeon holed into siding with the GIW by the media.
it's at this point that things go from trainwreck to airplane runway crash.
dalvco and luthor are in a lawsuit. the usgov is under pressure from everyone. people are calling for impeachment of the president. the GIW is getting raided and having their evil posted online. the drs fentons are absent (in the ghost zone, either being evil or having mimosas with pandora). ra's is trying to use new knowledge of the Pits to reanimate tim's spleen. the JL is under constant fire. everyone who has ever had a malicious opinion about super or meta control is getting new platforms. danny can't use his intimate knowledge of what's going on to write his essays for school.
the world is galvanized. there are calls to action. liminals of Amity Prak come forward. you could be liminal too! the Acts get repealed. the GIW gets cleaned out, all prisoners rescued. the realms get restituition. the meta protection acts get expanded.
people will learn about phantom, the superhero. the dead boy who saved them all when the JL didn't answer amity's calls. the JL comes under more fire. they lose funding, defund the police style. for maximum chaos, this can be when the miraculous ladybug crossover starts.
phantom gets a bajillion features on true crime podcasts. tucker keeps sending links to the episodes to them. sam will never admit it, but she listens to them.
but things will never, ever be the same. arguably it's a bad end. but...
black canary restructures arkham from what jazz said to batman in that meeting. many of the rogues get actual help. the joker is transfered to a supermax. he never escapes again. nightwing takes the discowing costume back up in celebration.
vlad loses the lawsuit, and uses his powers to get one over on luthor, who has a mind control suggestion implanted to (amongst other things) never be able to work on these projects again.
there is greater transparancy in superhero work. this makes some people start social programs for villians who have a point. it works for a few of them. the JL is cleared up to handle more extraterrestriel threats, not leaving the burden on one person alone in the cities. the child sidekicks have less work.
amanda waller is fired. ironically, she had nothing to do with any of this, but people assume that she did. either way, everyone agrees it's deserved.
the league of assassins makes a lot of money. they get hired a lot in turbulent times.
disney, which is utterly unchanged in this dimension, makes a documentary about everything. they get dani in for an interview. it's in very bad taste. there is at least one death pun and CGI'd animal.
danny graduates.
clockwork smiles.
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carmelcoco · 7 months
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moon notes. 🌕
Disclaimer. these observations do not have to resonate with everyone and everything, all expressed in this post is based on personal experience and research.
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"The moon in our birth charts represent the inner us, our emotions, house, mother, deepest feelings, instincts, our basic habits and reactions, unconscious and also our comfort zone."
☾ aries moon
Aries moons are extremely protective of their romantic partners, possibly due to the difficulty they have in getting along with just anyone. When they find someone they can love, it feels like a miracle to them. Their tired eyes hold many secrets, yet they also invite others to share their own. Aries moons are deeply committed to their beliefs, prioritizing prayer if they believe in God or disregarding criticism if they're into crystals and spirituality. Being misunderstood frustrates them, especially if they have Virgo personal placements. Moon in Aries individuals often experienced a challenging and powerful childhood, shaping their view of home and family as constant challenges. They need to feel comfortable with their partner before starting a family to avoid repeating the same attitude they received from their parents or relatives. Aries moons live in the present, are passionate, and tend to be impatient. They take criticism to heart and become defensive. They crave excitement and can get bored in peaceful environments. Their needs, desires, and crushes are short-lived and sometimes vague.
☾ taurus moon
Individuals with Taurus moons display distinct traits influenced by their emotional development. Those with undeveloped Taurus moons may struggle with giving and receiving affection until adulthood. Conversely, a developed Taurus moon suggests a nurturing childhood marked by stability and material comfort. Taurus moon individuals exude groundedness and stability, attracting attention and commanding respect effortlessly. They uphold high standards, seeking the good in everyone while grappling with occasional indulgence. Despite their serious initial impression, they are actually fun-loving and seek positive energy. Partners may find them challenging to understand due to mood swings, yet they offer deep emotional healing and encourage appreciation for the ordinary. Taurus moons prioritize building secure and cozy environments, cherishing routines and loyalty. Affectionate and sentimental, they value reliability and comfort above all, making them steadfast companions with strong emotional needs.
☾ gemini moon
Gemini moons possess a natural charm and wit, fostering pleasant company with their curiosity about life. Yet, within their comfort zones, a sense of nervousness and restlessness often accompanies them. These individuals thrive on constant mental stimulation, becoming moody when deprived of it. Childhood experiences shape their communication skills, sometimes marked by instances of feeling mocked or uncomfortable, particularly by siblings. In adulthood, they seek partners who value open dialogue and opinion sharing, craving discussions on diverse topics. While they appear approachable, earning their trust to reveal their fun side can be challenging. Gemini moons enjoy sharing their interests, often trying to influence others' preferences. In matters of love, they can be shy yet straightforward and may send risky texts. Despite attracting attention effortlessly, they remain indifferent to others' desires to emulate them, focusing instead on genuine connections and mental engagement.
☾ cancer moon
People with a Cancer moon are very empathetic and in tune with the emotions of others. They are peaceful and seek familiarity, but can become moody. They hold onto old memories and have a forgiving nature, especially with loved ones. Drama is avoided, and they are focused on justice and fairness. Cancer moons are ambitious and career-oriented, valuing hard work. They desire to build a happy family environment, but can be hindered by their tendency to feel deeply and get hurt easily. Letting go is important for finding love and affection. When drunk, they may have the urge to fight or dance with strangers. Sharing is caring, and balance is sought in all aspects of life.
☾ leo moon
Individuals with Leo moons seek attention and love within their inner circle, exhibiting both a craving for admiration and generosity towards loved ones. Creativity and a sense of justice define this placement, alongside a remarkable capacity for forgiveness, even towards those who have wronged them. They may have experienced embarrassment due to past forgiveness, learning the lesson of discernment. Leo moons prioritize self-love affirmations and enjoy disproving others' opinions. Trust issues develop early, leading to a reluctance to share personal secrets. They are non-competitive except in defense of friends, showing jealousy in childhood friendships. Quick to forgive, they use sympathy to mend relationships, disliking prolonged conflicts. While disliking long conversations, they engage enthusiastically in mysterious topics and detective documentaries, demonstrating a thirst for knowledge. Despite a dislike for subjects like math, they persist in pursuing success, reflecting their determined nature.
☾ virgo moon
Virgo moons are known for getting attached to people very quickly. They admire those who work hard for their dreams and love to party. They seek soul ties with people who match their personality and are drawn to confident individuals who appreciate beauty in everyone. Cooking for loved ones is how they show their love, as they likely paid attention to their mom or grandma while cooking as a child. Virgo moons are ambitious and goal-oriented from a young age, but tend to care less about school as they get older. Despite this, they are kind and make even disagreeable statements sound agreeable. Virgo moons are sensitive and experience emotions mentally, which can lead to moodiness. They have a tendency to focus on details and can struggle to see the bigger picture due to early conditioning. It is important for them to be light-hearted with judgments towards family and future family. They find contentment in the little things and prefer simplicity. Virgo moons need to feel useful and thrive on routine, or else they become self-critical. They are trustworthy and reliable.
☾ libra moon
Libra moons are known for their desire for peace and harmony. They are social and sympathetic individuals who like to have the last word in arguments. Although they strive for the best, this focus can sometimes prevent them from enjoying the moment. They are fond of giving compliments and expect the same in return, but their egos are fragile and can be easily crushed. Libra moons are often taken advantage of due to their people-pleasing nature. They are also known for their strong attachment to their mothers. Libra moons may have been obsessed with their appearance during their teenage years, but as they age, they prioritize personality over looks when choosing a partner. However, one negative trait they possess is complaining even when they chose to help someone. Libra moons are indecisive about trivial things but are confident in important situations. If you are a Libra moon, it is important to work on being honest. Overall, talking to a Libra moon can feel like talking to yourself, but with agreement on every point.
☾ scorpio moon
Scorpio moons are the sweetest people. They are attentive, caring and very focused on making sure others feel good. They can get anxious but it's cute. They respect the privacy of others because they want their privacy respected too. Scorpio moons are great at comforting people, even if they feel awkward about physical comfort. They may have family issues and they love alone time. They love watching horror movies and learning from them. Scorpio moons are clever, perceptive and seek intense emotions and experiences. They value strong relationships and commitment. They live by the motto "all or nothing".
☾ sagittarius moon
Individuals with a Sagittarius moon placement exhibit traits of optimism, cheerfulness, and a love for freedom. They dislike routine and prefer spontaneity, which can lead to conflicts with more structured individuals. Despite their impulsiveness, they are trustworthy and forgiving, often giving second chances to those who betray them to avoid confrontation. They possess a genuine interest in other cultures and exhibit respect towards all races without discrimination. While they may avoid seeking advice from others, they are likely to turn to their mothers for guidance. Sagittarius moons thrive in social settings, preferring nature and the company of many friends over isolation. They are attentive listeners, willing to invest time and effort in understanding others, even when tired. Additionally, they have a diverse taste in music, gradually exploring various genres as they mature. Overall, Sagittarius moons embody positivity, openness, and a deep appreciation for diversity and connection.
☾ capricorn moon
Honestly, Capricorn moons have a hard time understanding their emotions and because of this people usually end up thinking that they are detached or emotionally unavailable. I hope they know that it's okay to admit how you truly feel and if they ever try to communicate with anyone please listen to them cuz they are trying hard. They always seem to need advice in relationships, even for small issues. They romanticize a perfect relationship and search for advice to make it a reality. They tend to force themselves to feel numb about the things that hurt them the most. All this happens because they are unable to understand their emotions and it takes them time to do so. They don't like ranting, but when they do, they pour their hearts out then act like they didn't. They're sensitive individuals who want to be understood, despite some people talking harshly about their detached emotions. Capricorn moons usually have a problematic relationship with their parents and may have experienced abuse growing up. They're reliable and levelheaded people who are well-organized and realistic. Tradition, authority, and security are highly regarded, and they are no risk-takers.
☾ aquarius moon
Aquarius moons are known for their observant nature and love analyzing other people's actions. They tend to feel like they don't fit in with their peers and value independence and individuality. These rebellious individuals don't take criticism well and take pride in their thoughts. Aquarius moons have a lot on their mind and are often thought of as stoners because they find themselves lost in thought often. They may make sex their love language because they want to please others and themselves. These people tend to enjoy aggressive music and may judge others for not liking the same artists as them. Aquarius moons have a great sense of humor and are always interesting to talk to. They tend to get lost in their thoughts and may zone out while telling their life story. Overall, these people are never boring and always leave an impression.
☾ pisces moon
Honestly, I could go on for pages about Pisces moons. They're the family member who knows everything and wants to come off as lovely to strangers. They avoid confrontation and might disagree with something just to be left alone. Pisces moons want to feel spoiled and financially stable. They either think about money, sex, or how depressed they are. They're also prone to falling for fictional characters or celebrities. If a Pisces moon is dating a Virgo sun, it feels like paradise, but they might not admit it. Pisces moons are hardworking to the point of forgetting to eat and might have trouble with spicy food. They romanticize toxicity and have remarkable intuition. They can get lost in the suffering of others and are known for their odd sense of humor.
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this post was created by @carmelcoco on tumblr <3 if reposting my work please give credits.
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Christopher Mathias at HuffPost:
A coalition of 185 social justice and religious groups published an open letter Monday expressing support for the campus protest encampments sweeping the country in opposition to Israel’s siege of Gaza, and calling on university administrators to end the brutal crackdowns of the student-led demonstrations. “We commend the students who are exercising their right to protest peacefully despite an overwhelming atmosphere of pressure, intimidation and retaliation, to raise awareness about Israel’s assault on Gaza — with U.S. weapons and funding,” the letter states. “These students have come forth with clear demands that their universities divest from corporations profiting from Israeli occupation, and demanding safe environments for Palestinians across their campuses. ” Groups that signed the letter include Gen-Z for Change, Working Families Party, IfNotNow Movement, Young Democrats of America Black Caucus, Movement for Black Lives, Sunrise Movement, MPower Change, Jewish Voice for Peace, Palestine Legal, and the Unitarian Universalist Association.
Some 900 students have been arrested during anti-war encampments and demonstrations at American universities in the last 10 days, per a tally from Al Jazeera — a tumultuous period that mirrors volatile demonstrations against the Vietnam War in 1968, when police arrested at least 700 students. The open letter Monday represents one of the largest shows of support among progressive groups for the burgeoning student protests, and makes clear the divide between establishment Democratic figures and social justice groups when it comes to U.S. support for Israel. President Joe Biden has refused so far to condition the sale of weapons to Israel. “Our communities have been horrified to see the militarized and violent response to students protesting an ongoing genocide funded and supported by our government, and our coalition of organizations join millions of our members across the country in standing in solidarity with the students’ efforts in support of the people of Gaza,” Yasmine Taeb, one of the main organizers of the letter, told HuffPost. Taeb is a human rights lawyer and political director at MPower Change, a Muslim social justice group.
“Instead of attacking young people mobilizing for Palestinian human rights, President Biden needs to listen to the majority of Americans who have been calling on him to stop funding and supporting the atrocities committed against the people of Gaza,” Taeb said.
[...] Israel has killed over 33,000 Palestinians since Oct. 7, when the Gaza-based militant group Hamas launched an attack in which nearly 1,200 Israelis were killed. In January, the International Court of Justice ruled that Israel’s siege of Gaza — which has displaced 85% of the population and put the occupied territory on the cusp of famine — left Palestinians at risk of experiencing a genocide. Last week, health officials in Gaza said medics had discovered mass graves at hospitals raided by Israeli troops. “We join [the students] in calling for an immediate and lasting ceasefire and an end to the U.S. government’s and institutions’ role in the ongoing genocide of Palestinians in Gaza,” Monday’s letter states. “As we stand in solidarity with the students protesting in encampments across the country, we reaffirm our commitment to amplifying their voices, condemn the university administration officials’ violent response to their activism, and demand that universities remove the presence of police and other militarized forces from their campuses,” it continues.
[...] Meanwhile, Republican Party officials and right-wing media figures have accused the demonstrations of antisemitism, falsely equating criticism of Israel with bigotry towards Jews. Although there have been scattered reports of actual antisemitic incidents at or near the encampments, many were not perpetrated by students but by interlopers. Many of the student protesters across the country are Jewish. Far-right agitators, including Christian nationalist activists, have also targeted the encampments, with MAGA pastor Sean Feucht leading hundreds of Christian and Jewish Zionists on a march around the Columbia campus on Thursday. The rally ended with pro-Israel demonstrators yelling through the gate at pro-Palestinian Columbia students. “Go back to Gaza!” they screamed.
More than 185 groups, including IfNotNow, Jewish Voice For Peace, MPower Change, and Working Families Party, signed a letter in support of the campus protests against Israel Apartheid State's genocide against Palestinians in Gaza.
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sevenoctober7 · 8 months
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The issue of the Palestinian people is not only an Islamic issue, but rather a humanitarian issue that requires the solidarity of all, based on the values ​​of justice, peace and fairness.
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marvelsswansong · 10 months
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show and tell
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summary: a white rose at the train station. his hand in yours at the zoo. his mother's golden mirror. does he love you or is he simply trying to gain the public's favour and secure the Plith prize? you're unsure. and so is he, until he very much isn't.
tags: coriolanus snow x fem!reader, slow burn (ish), fluff, angst, technically a happy ending but quite dark, purely based off the movie but I take some creative detours, CW for violence, mentions of starvation, toxic/manipulative behaviors and a semi-dark!snow (please read at your own discretion, take care of yourself above all else :))
☆ word count: 5.6K+ words ☆
⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️
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Coriolanus hates waiting. 
The stillness, the eerie silence of an early morning at the Capitol train station. It eats away at his core.
His mouth tastes like copper, his throat's starting to itch from the dryness and there's a brief moment of fear as he ponders if he's making a huge mistake. A sharp whistle ringing through the station signals the train's arrival, and as his eyes adjust to the billowing grey smoke and a sea of white (the peace keepers), the flower in his left hand suddenly feels heavy. As if the weight of the situation is starting to bear on his shoulders.
He wasn't supposed to be here. If all had gone to plan, he would've already been the recipient of the Plinth Prize and taken the first car back home to buy his grandma'am some chocolates and Tigris a new dress. No more worrying. No more surviving on dwindled fortunes. No more pretending to fit in with high society. 
Then, of course, the rules had to change. Viewership was down and it was of both Dean Highbottom's and Dr Gaul's opinion that what was missing was spectacle. Now, whoever the best mentor was in transforming their tribute into prime entertainment would win the prize. 
"Your role is to turn these tributes into spectacles. Not survivors." 
The silence that hung after this announcement in the Academy was heavy, but Coriolanus knew better than to show his true emotions on his face. After all, if there was one thing that he knew how to do as the star student of the Academy: it was to plan. And when he saw your... unruly introduction to the public, sneaking a snake down a woman's dress before cussing out the audience, it dawned on him that it would be a tall order to endear you to the public.
But not impossible.
The sounds of the tributes being roughly unloaded off the platform snaps him back into reality, his eyes easily landing on your figure as you jump off the train, your upper arms supported by the tribute (Jessup, Coriolanus recalls his name being) standing next to you. Pushing through the soldiers, the blonde nearly breaks into a small sprint to catch up to you as you turn your head upon hearing the sound of hurried footsteps.
"Welcome to the Capitol." the strange man in front of you says, before holding out a pristine white rose. It's a peculiar looking flower, you think, a kind of flower you've never seen before (at least, certainly not back in your home district). It looks almost artificial, you think, with how perfectly white and untouched its petals are.
The blonde assesses your cautious glance - the sunlight hitting the under color of your irises perfectly in a glistening twilight - and a fleeting thought passes by, that the tv camera didn't do your natural beauty justice. He has to suppress a smirk when you finally respond, narrowing your eyes at him with your arms crossing above your chest.
"You seem like you shouldn't be here."
He chuckles at that.
"I'm not supposed to be. And yet here I am." A pause. "But I'm your mentor. Coriolanus Snow."
That's a first, you think. Mentors for tributes. 
"And what does my mentor do except bring me roses?" you question, flicking the buds with your fingers. Coriolanus just smiles. 
"I do my best to take care of you." 
Your supposed mentor says it so sincerely, you think, and he's obviously charming with his devilishly handsome looks and low whisper. But there's something that stops you from holding out your hand and taking the rose from his fingers. You suppose he isn't lying - after all, what would be the point of it - but there's something in his eyes that you can't quite explain. 
Something that makes your stomach flutter in both excitement and dread.
"Move." the soldier behind you then barks, shoving you and Jessup forward. You decide to give your mentor one last grin and a quiet "see you later", thinking that's going to be the last you see of him for a while.
The last thing you expect is for him to jump into the back of the vehicle alongside the other tributes, drawing the eyre of a few who pin him against the moving vehicle and start taunting him with violence. 
"You look rather out of place." the tall boy pinning Coriolanus drawls.
"I'm not, I can assure you. I'm here for (Y/n). I'm her mentor." 
That puts the unwanted attention on you, as the other tributes begin to circle around you with sinister expressions twisting on their lips.
"Mentor, huh? How come little miss music gets one but not the rest of us?" a brunette girl drawls, eyeing you up and down.
The boy pinning Coriolanus down applies stronger pressure to his neck, and you rise in an attempt to intervene, but he meets your gaze discreetly and motions for you to remain seated. 
"You all have a mentor, they're just... not here." he croaks. 
"Right, and we're all supposed to believe you?" another girl, this one from district 4 you believe, taunts. "What's to say we shouldn't just kill you now?" 
The blonde shoots you a nervous look and that's when you feel pity. Just like you, he's in a foreign environment and pretending to be brave. You suppose also that he's your only ticket out, your only chance of potential success at surviving in the games.
So you intervene.
"You could kill him. But then the moment this truck stops you'll all be gathered round and killed by the peace keepers. He's clearly Capitol. And if they're willing to hang District people simply for stealing, can't imagine what killing a member of the Capitol would mean for punishment." 
That scares them off and Coriolanus sits down next to you, breathing heavily in an effort to catch his breath, before quietly thanking you.
"You really wanna thank me?" you quirk, leaning over to whisper in his ear. "Start by thinking about how I can actually win." 
The truck then suddenly comes to a halt, and the next thing you know the truck is being tipped over and the doors fly open. Coriolanus grasps your arm in lightning speed, pulling you close towards him so that he'd hit the harsh ground first, absorbing most of the impact.
When you shakily stand up on your feet, you realize you're enclosed in a large metal cage akin to that of an animal enclosure. There's even an over enthusiastic TV presenter in the background, who now seems to have noticed your mentor and begins to call out to him.
"Where are we?" you breathe out, already shivering from the autumn cold.
The blonde barely shifts, only dusting off his suit in a calm manner.
"(Y/n) (L/n) from District 12, welcome to the Capitol Zoo. Would you like to meet my neighbors?" he jokes, eyes slyly shifting to the right to refer to the small audience that has now gathered around the TV presenter. 
You hesitate, but then he takes your right hand in his before leaning over to whisper in your ear.
"You want to win, right? Good. I'd like to win as well. And the first thing you'll need to do? Perform for the cameras." Coriolanus accentuates the end of his sentence by sliding the rose behind your ear, a gesture which draws an excited reaction from the crowd.
Is your mentor doing it for the cameras or for something else? You're unsure. But given your desperation to win, and the fact that he clearly knows more about the games than you do, you decide to play along.
Warm hands twisting in the cold, Coriolanus drags your enjoined hands towards the TV camera as he does what he does best. Lie, smile, and charm the audience. Even when the attention turns to you, as Lucky Flickerman (that's his name, you learn) directs questions towards you, the blonde never lets go of your hand in his.
Before he leaves, as news of his rule-breaking spreads amongst the members of the public, you grab him out of desperation one last time.
"Please get us some food, we've been starving since the Reaping."
The blonde nods, but you can't help but feel anxious: not knowing if his previous gestures of kindness were just for show. 
-------------------------------
"Who's that for?"
Coriolanus had meant to sneak the sandwiches and cookies into his spare napkin discreetly, but of course Clemensia had to be two steps behind him, interrogating his every move. 
"Just not very hungry, that's all." he nearly grits through his teeth, forcing a fake smile.
The dark haired girl chuckles at that, shaking her head sideways.
"You don't have to lie to me, Snow. Especially me."
"... It's for (Y/n)." he quietly admits. She hums at that, picking at her own food from across the table.
"That's awfully nice of you. What, already going soft for some girl you met yesterday?" she teases, and it immediately elicits an angry refusal out of him.
"It's not like that." Coriolanus snaps, his sudden harshness making his classmate flinch in surprise. "I just... can't have her dying before the games even begin because she's not as well fed as the others." 
Clemensia scoffs, flicking the rest of her orange peel into the trash.
"Honestly, Snow, I don't know why you bother. She's clearly not going to survive. I mean, have you seen the tributes from districts 1 and 3?"
Ignoring her comments, he wordlessly slips away from the table and hails a ride down to the zoo. News of his intentions travels fast and whilst he doesn't mind Sejanus' company, it takes intense effort to force himself to look away from Arachne when she tags along and decides to taunt a caged tribute with a glass bottle. 
"You came back." you mutter, staring at the neatly wrapped napkin in disbelief. Coriolanus dislikes how surprised you sound, then hates himself more for caring about what you think. 
Why do you care what she thinks? he scolds himself. She's just a tribute you're mentoring.
"Of course I did. Can't have my tribute dying before the games even begin, now can I?" he teases, feigning nonchalant. 
The presence of academy mentors seems to have attracted a crowd, with a few photographers even pointing their lenses towards you and Coriolanus as his hand slips through the metal gates to meet yours to hand off the food. When your fingers touch his, a part of you wonders if he would've ever came back if there was no PR involved.
Too grateful and too hungry to care, you just say thank you, before breaking off a piece for Jessup and offering half a sandwich to your mentor.
"Oh no, I'm not hungry." he says out of instinct, surprised by your offering. You raise your eyebrows in response, pursing your lips.
"You sure about that? Because I could hear your stomach growl from a mile away." you retort. 
"Right. Uh, thank you." 
Biting into the soft bread, you chew, savoring every bite. A silence settles between the two of you as you both eat, right before you ask him a quiet question.
"... Did you get into a lot of trouble for what you did for me yesterday?" your eyes shine with worry, you nervously looking up at him for an answer. He finds himself again surprised by how much you seem to care. 
Yes, he wants to say. I nearly got myself disqualified as a mentor and it would've been the end of my family's future in the Capitol. But he swallows his thoughts down, alongside the dry taste of the tuna sandwich.
"Not much. Actually, I was able to convince the gamemaster, Dr Gaul, to implement a few changes to the games."
"Really, like what?"
"To let the public send you donations. That way, I could send you supplies you needed into the arena - food, water, medicine. It'd mean having to do the extra job of playing to the public and getting them to root for your survival, but with a voice like yours, the songbird of Panem -"
Your smile drops at that, your gaze turning stern at his suggestion.
"I only sing when I please for an audience I choose." your eyebrows furrow, your usually sweet expression melting into something more sour. It's oddly cute, he thinks. 
"I know, but I'm really going to need you to try. It's for your own survival. Our survival." he emphasizes, staring right into your eyes. You can't suppress your sad smile at that, crumbling the empty napkin in your hands.
"Are you sure it's not just for your survival?"
Your question haunts Coriolanus that night, alongside the sounds of broken glass and pained gasps as Arachne lies bleeding on the ground, having been stabbed in the neck by one of the tributes. When he quickly runs to his classmate, he doesn't get to see your expression, as you're ripped away by Jessup pulling you into safety in an instant and peace keepers swarm the scene in an effort to remain calm.
When he's back home and the crimson blood coating his hands have dried from where he was holding his dying classmate's wounds, he wonders if there's any truth to your answer.
-------------------------------
Everything changes at the arena tour.
You've not had much sleep. You're confused, you're angry, but most of all you've been haunted by your conflicting feelings towards your mentor and the name he'd called you - songbird. A silly little songbird, you think spitefully. 
To sing and charm the very same public who had doomed her to a violent game of death. 
It was absurd, really, that he'd even ask that. It made your stomach churn and your head ache at the thought of cheapening your craft for something so juvenile.
And yet, when you spot the familiar red suit and white blonde hair in the mass of other mentors at the arena, you can't help but feel warmth in your chest and stomach. A part of you even feels lucky, given that the other mentors seem to waste their time insulting their tributes or being too afraid to talk to them. Whilst Coriolanus, on the other hand, seems to be full of ideas to ensure your survival.
"The game master liked my suggestions. So the donations system is going to be implemented, with a broadcast beforehand for the tributes to get a chance to endear themselves to the public for donations." He's speaking so fast that you almost think he enjoys explaining the games to you. "Now what this means is that assuming you get enough donations, when the bell goes off, you don't go for the weapons. You don't fight. You just run as fast as you can, hide and stay alive for as long as you can." 
"How can you even be sure I'll get enough donations for you to be able to send supplies?" you mutter, looking around at the other tributes. "A lot of these folks are a lot taller and stronger than I am. They've got a much better chance at surviving than I do."  
Coriolanus surprises you by taking both of your hands in his, squeezing your palms tight in his cold palms.
"I know, but we have something none of the others have."
You scrunch your face in confusion.
"What's that?"
"A story. A strong connection between you and me, a Capitol mentor and a District 12 tribute. Not to mention, your incredible singing and songwriting. Match that with my knack for public relations and we'll have enough donations to send you any supplies necessary for your victory in the games."
You realize then that Coriolanus is unlike anyone else you've ever met. So confident, so sure, so perceptive of other people and their secret desires and pitfalls. His unwavering commitment to his beliefs is admirable, if not almost foolish, but you keep that part to yourself.
"How're you so sure I'll even survive the first few minutes?" you push back, still unconvinced, though you don't pull away from his hold. "And, again, I don't just sing for anyone."
The blonde opens his mouth to respond, but he's interrupted when a sudden cascade of dust and fire crumbles down from the ceiling of the arena. The sound of a bomb exploding reverberates as you're both thrown off of your feet by the impact. Your head is still ringing from the chaos when Jessup pulls at your sleeves, commanding you to walk away from the wreckage. 
Rising onto shaky legs, you even spot another tribute running from the guards towards a blown out hole on the side of the building. And when your eyes meet with Coriolanus' frantic ones, his lower half trapped underneath rubble, you both recognize that you now have an unbridled chance to escape - 
But you don't.
To the blonde's complete shock, you instead shove your friend off, screaming as you lift the heavy cement column with all your strength in an effort to pry the debris off of his body. With the help of a few peace keepers, it works, but Coriolanus falls into unconsciousness quickly as he succumbs to the excruciating pain of crushed ribs and bruised limbs.
The last thing he sees before he fades into darkness is your teary eyes, a sight he so badly wants to fix by wiping away your tears with his fingers... 
When he eventually wakes, it's in a dark hospital next to his grandma'am and sister. There's a roar on the television screen as you're brought onto the broadcast, shy smile and a glittering guitar in hand. It hits him that you're actually going to sing. 
"I didn't have a chance to... uh... write a new song. But I'd like to dedicate this performance to someone very special who's recently been hurt." you say into the mike, your eyes clearly brimming with nerves and doubt. 
As you sing, there's a tight sensation in Coriolanus' chest once the lyrics settle into his mind - a small voice whispers in his mind that it's jealousy, for you singing about a boy back in your home town who broke your heart - but it's overwhelmed by the feelings of gratitude and awe that you'd ended up doing what he asked you to do. All that, after selflessly saving his life.
"A...are you okay, Coryo?" is all Tigris asks, brushing his hair back and gently guiding him back down onto bed upon seeing his expression twist into one of discomfort.
"She could've run." 
"What?"
"At the arena. The blast blew open a large opening on the side of the stadium. I saw one of the tributes actually make it out that way." he lets out a shaky breath, hating you for what you've done to him to make him feel this way. "Damn it, Tigris. She could've run. She could've-"
A single tear drops from his left eye and onto his injured palm, his weak voice giving away his true emotions.
"She could've saved herself from even having to participate in the games. But she stayed. She fucking stayed behind to lift the debris off of me."
"She saved your life." his sister finishes for him, the atmosphere turning somber as she wraps her arms around his shoulder. "I'm just so glad that you're both safe." 
As you retreat from the screen, the donation numbers only piling up higher as Lucky Flickerman closes out the broadcast, a hot fire lights up in Coriolanus' stomach. 
He has to save you.
No matter what it takes.
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"You know he's just using you, right?"
After the broadcast, once it's revealed that you were given the largest amount of donations out of all the other tributes, Coral from District 4 corners you backstage. 
"Pardon?" you fake ignorance, a small smile playing on your lips, which only seems to aggravate the girl further. 
"Your pretty boy mentor. He's only been faking all sweet for you to get the public to send you donations. In fact, I bet he didn't even bother to try and pull himself out of the wreckage so that he could get more public sympathy.
You snap at that, all fake modesty melting away in an instant.
"You have no idea what the fuck you're talking about, Coral. Coriolanus isn't like that." you spit, but all she does is look down at you with a nasty smirk on her lips.
"Oh really? And how would you know, little songbird? Think he'd care about someone from district 12? And why do you think he wants you to win so badly? Because he's a good person?" she mocks, her face now a mere inches away from yours. "No. I reckon it's more for the prize money." 
You can't sleep that night at the zoo, tossing and turning in the dark. Your mind can't seem to rest, torn between the adrenaline and dread for the games tomorrow, alongside the constant worry over Coriolanus' wellbeing and doubts over his genuinity and trustworthiness.
Coral's just trying to get in my head. you repeat to yourself, over and over again. You're on the edge of sleep, exhausted and upset by your conflicting emotions, when you hear a familiar voice coming from the darkness. 
It sounds like Coriolanus. 
You sit up straight, and it's true: he's here, and he's whispering your name repeatedly, beckoning you towards the front of the cage and away from your sleeping competitors. Suddenly, the overwhelming exhaustion and fatigue disappears, and you find yourself gravitating towards the only person you've been thinking about for the past 24 hours.
"Coryo, you're... you're alright." you sigh out, almost overwhelmed with relief. You don't even realize you're crying until his hands reach up and brush away your tears, his warm hand a stark contrast to the freezing cold of the night.
"I am. All thanks to you, songbird." he breathes out, his fingers tracing the ripples of your cheeks. His head feels dizzy and his hands tremble as he searches his pockets for his mother's golden compact mirror. 
"Don't call me that." you weakly laugh, as he does too. "What's this?" you ask, staring at the object he’s folded gently into your hands. 
"It's for you to use in the arena. Now listen to what I say very carefully. Don't breathe this in, don't spill it on yourself, and only use it when you really need to." he slowly explains, as if he's terrified that you're going to harm yourself by merely carrying it in your pockets. 
"Is... is this allowed? For you to sneak in and give me this?" you whisper, looking around your surroundings, but it's pitch black. 
The blonde purses his lips, using every muscle in his body to keep his expression neutral.
No, it's certainly not allowed. I am risking my life, as well as my family's future, by doing this.
"That's not important. What is important is that the blast from the arena has created a hole leading out to a bunch of service tunnels. I tested it out myself, it leads towards the outside, far away from the peace keepers." 
"Wait, I don't understa-"
Desperation grabs a hold of him, and it's a foreign feeling - the crushing despair of wanting to protect someone that he can't, the burning urge to want to put someone else ahead of him for once.
"What I need you to do tomorrow, (Y/n), is to run. The moment the alarm rings, don't even think of running towards the weapons or fighting the others. Don't even hide anymore. Just… just run towards the tunnels, by yourself, and get out."
"But what about Jessup-" you hiccup. Your head's spinning, confused and horrified by your mentor's change of plans and the prospect of leaving behind your friend to die in the arena. 
"Forget about him." Coriolanus snaps. Suddenly, his eyes are cold and his voice is firm, commanding you as if you have no choice in the matter. "In there, he's as dangerous as the other tributes. You can't trust anyone, not even your supposed friends, okay? The games, they-" he chokes on his own words, and there's something again in Coriolanus' eyes that you can't quite decipher. "They bring out the worst in people. Promise me you'll run."
It makes your stomach twist in anxiety.
"I-"
"Please." 
As he begs, his face crumbles, his voice so desperate and feeble that you can't find it in yourself to say no. 
"I... I'll try." you relent, and he lets out a sigh of relief at your agreement. 
"Good. Perfect." He takes your head in his hands and softly kisses your temple. "I won't let you die in there, okay? Just like you took care of me after the explosion. I'm going to take care of you."
"I'm your mentor. I do my best to take care of you." 
Coriolanus' words from the train station echo in your head as you nod, pocketing the mirror deep inside your dress to hide it away from plain sight.
"Will I... will I be able to see you, after the games?" 
You immediately feel stupid for even asking that. Everyone knows winning the games merely allows your return to your home district. And on all logical accounts, it wouldn't make any sense for the man to give up his life in the Capitol to follow you back to 12.
But he smiles at your innocent question, only nodding whilst squeezing your hands in the dark. To your feeble heart and mind, it feels like a genuine promise.
"Of course, my songbird. I'll do whatever it takes."
"Don't make promises you can't keep." you whisper.
"I never do." 
And for the first time, you think you actually believe him wholeheartedly.
----------------------------------
You can't believe it. 
You've won.
You were so sure you were going to die once the snakes had been released, eyes closing shut once the venomous snakes began to crawl up your skin, but as you continued to sing... The reptiles simply slithered by your side, remaining docile and non-threatening. And based on the snakes' sudden change of behavior and Highbottom's scowl when he announced you as the victor of the 10th Hunger Games - "consider yourself lucky, little girl, as it seems your mentor was willing to break more than a few rules for you" - your stomach churns at the realization that Coriolanus kept his promise.
He did whatever it took to get you out. 
Even cheating. 
You've only heard whispers of the punishments for cheating at the Capitol. But based on the frequent hangings of rebels in your home district, you can't imagine that the punishment would be very kind.
Weeks have passed since your victory, since the last time you've even seen Coriolanus, but it does nothing to erase him from your mind. You still see his faint silhouette in the mornings, when your eyes have barely adjusted to the morning light and there's a pile of clothes sitting on the chair beside your bed. You think you hear his voice amongst the sea of strangers’ conversations, calling out for his 'songbird'. And you swear you see his face in every crowd at the bar.
Unbeknownst to you, Coriolanus is having the same struggles on the opposite end of the country. Luckily, bearing the last name Snow meant his punishment for cheating was to be lighter than the usual hanging: mandatory military service. District 8. But he's sure to bring his last few bills to bribe the immigration officer for a transfer to 12. 
All to come find you. 
He suffers through the first week of training - grueling hours, hanging ceremonies, endless ramblings from Sejanus about making a change for the better. He pretends not to notice Sejanus establishing connections within the rebel community, until he can’t ignore it anymore. After all, Coriolanus simply can't afford his friend’s idealism and recklessness to get him killed too, and potentially you, when you're thought to be linked to the movement by mere virtue of association.
Especially not you, Coriolanus thinks.
After the games, of having to watch you bleed, sob and fight for hours on end as he stood helplessly, only able to watch: even the passing thought of your death elicits a violent reaction in him. He'll do anything for you. 
Even if that means turning in his only friend to prove his loyalty to the Capitol.
It's an unremarkable Wednesday night for you when you're singing a song at the bar, black guitar in hand and the smell of booze thick in the air, when your eyes come across a familiar face. 
It takes you a few seconds, of course. You almost think it’s a hallucination, if it wasn’t for the sea of other soldiers surrounding him, validating his presence. His fluffy white locks are gone, replaced with a clean buzz cut. He's lost a bit of weight, his shoulders more broad and rough from military training, and the lack of expensive bright fabrics draped around his figure is jarring at first. But it suits him, you think. 
The song can't finish any faster before you're slinging your guitar to the back and rushing up to Coriolanus, immediately throwing your arms around him. He stiffens in your embrace before relaxing, his arms finding your waist and squeezing you tightly. And you can't help but savor every essence of his being: he smells of sweat and coal (unlike his Capitol uniform which always smelled of florals and clean linen) and you can feel the cool metal of his dog tags press against your collarbone at this angle.
"You came back for me." you breathe out, still not believing that he's in front of you. Your ex mentor just smiles, tapping your cheeks with his hands.
"Said I'd never break a promise, now didn't I?" 
As the next performer goes up on stage, recapturing the attention of the audience, you pull him away towards the back room, far away from the bustling crowds and twinkling lights.
"I've thought of you every day, my songbird." Coriolanus whispers against your skin once you two are away from the crowds, his head falling forwards into the nape of your neck.
Your cheeks warm at his comment, your fingers coming up to play with the dog tags around his neck, before a light chuckle escapes your lips.
"What's so funny? Did you not miss me?" the blonde teases, and you shake your head sideways in denial.
"Of course I missed you. I missed you more than you could imagine."
"Then what's the chuckle for?"
You let out a short sigh, not knowing if it’d be wise to bring it up. But all he does is encouraging you, looking deep into your eyes and nodding, urging you to say what’s on your mind. You relent, shoulders sagging. 
"It's just... when I won the games, Highbottom congratulated me. But not for winning the games. But for surviving you." you awkwardly chuckle in hopes of diffusing the seriousness of your question. "Is it true, Coryo?"
"What are you getting at?" is his response, coy and low. You can't tell if he's amused, annoyed or disturbed. 
Or all three at once.
"There's rumors, you know. I heard that you... you had to kill a tribute." you whisper, as if what you’re saying is the biggest secret in the world. "Is it true?"
Coriolanus pauses at that, the smirk on his face dropping for a fraction of a second before he's cupping your face and lifting your gaze to meet his eyes. His stare is so strong, so unwavering, almost to the point of unnerving you. But it's matched with such warmth and softness in his touch as he strokes your hair.
"You have to understand, darling… It was just like the snakes. If I hadn't rigged the game by getting the snakes used to your smell so they wouldn't attack you, you would've died. And if I hadn't killed the tribute charging at me when I had to sneak into the arena to rescue Sejanus-" he sighs, slow and long. He looks as if he’s thinking hard. "I had to, my songbird. I had to do it to protect you. To take care of you." he emphasizes.
You're not sure what kind of an answer you wanted, but you're unable to respond immediately, as it slowly dawns on you that this man both cheated and killed another person for you. 
His response to your silence is a swift kiss, calloused hands dropping to your waist to pull you in close, the gesture desperate and messy. Breathing heavily when he parts from you, he kisses you once more, this time a short peck which is more rough and demanding.
"I would do anything for you, (Y/n) (L/n). Anything for you."
Coriolanus chooses to keep quiet about the fact that technically, he could've just injured the tribute charging towards him instead. Or that it felt freeing to have ended the tribute’s life. Or that just a few hours ago, he tipped off the Capitol about Sejanus' rebellion. All in an effort to secure your unbridled safety. So that he doesn’t ever have to let go of you again.
"Now, where are your manners, my songbird? Aren't you going to thank me?" he whispers against your lips, smoothing out your hair.
"T-thank you, Coryo." you manage to stutter.
He smiles at that, kissing the top of your head as he sways you from side to side.
"Of course, love. Don't worry. We’re going to be just fine. In fact, everything will be fine from now on."
As you peak out from under his embrace, you're not so sure if you can believe him anymore.
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a/n: leave it to a new hunger games movie and Tom Blyth playing young!Snow to make me return from my 1.5 year long writing hiatus.
I'm quite nervous about this one as it's my first time writing for a semi-dark character and also because it's been so long since I posted my writing on here... But I hope you enjoyed, please leave a comment, like, reblog, etc if you liked it. If this one is received well I might go ahead and post the other Snow fics currently sitting in my drafts!!!
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bluerosefox · 10 months
Text
Courting Chaos (to Balance)
A KlarionxDanny brain worm that has spawned
Tim Drake, aka Red Robin gets kidnapped suddenly and very randomly by Klarion in the middle of a JL and others meeting.
Leaving with a
"I'LL RETURN HIM WHEN HES NO LONGER USEFUL JUSTICE LOSERS!"
And fire and chaos in his wake.
While the JL, and others scramble to figure out what Klarion has planned this time, Tim manages to break free of whatever Klarion had used to kidnap him only to find himself on a couch and Klarion nervously petting Teekl on his lap while also sitting in a chair across from him.
When Tim goes to demand to know why Klarion kidnapped him Klarion finally speaks.
"Okay, I wanna strike a deal. I won't bug you or your little Young Just US buddies if you help me ask someone out..."
"...What the fuck Klarion?" Was Tim's only response.
-x-x-
So it turns out, every so often the three main entities and actual factions of Order, Chaos, and Balance get together to well discuss things happening in certain Realms, worlds, and timelines. Basicly to touch base, see where everyone was at. Etc etc.
Order was Order. Chaos was Chaos.
Very simple.
Both could be bad. To much order caused restraint and could snuff out growth. To much Chaos could get out of hand and cause ruin.
Both could be good. Order help stabilizes worlds and builds their future. Chaos allowed creativity to roam and brought forth wonderful things.
And Balance.
Well Balance was the very scales that kept both sides in check. They were neutral grounds. The ones that normally oversaw the meetings as well. And despite their low numbers they held powerful entities that more than made up for it.
Balance did their best to keep things in check, sure they do have their own preference sometimes and allowed the scales to tip a tiny bit but always corrected it later if it tips to much.
It was at this meeting, a meeting even Klarion knew better than to do anything too chaotic, pranks were fine but nothing too much, and had been chatting with a newcomer to the side of Chaos (Danielle, call me Ellie, Phantom. She did some heroing on the side but liked causing chaos in her wake to do so, he liked her so far though.) When the bells for the side of Balance to appear announced them.
Ellie had smiled brightly and said her brother was coming with his mentor, turns out her brother was apart of the Balance group which meant that he was strong, strong enough to need a mentor.
He watched as the members of Balance walked, teleported, flew, and other means into the meeting halls. And then froze when his eyes caught sight of him.
Floating next to a blue skined being that was switching ages was a beautiful otherworldly person.
Snow white hair that wisped upwards oh so softly. Glowing green eyes that were cat-like with their piercing glance. A galaxy cloak hanged around his shoulders and seemed to shift with each movement. Star like freckles decorated his face and seemed to glow a soft bluish white. A crown made of ice and aurora lights floated above his head as well.
All in all Klarion couldn't keep his eyes off of the being at all. He nearly spat his water out when Ellie commented that was her brother Danny, or rather.
High King of the Infinite Realms, Daniel 'Danny' Phantom. The Great One. Defeater of the Tyrant King. The Halfa. The Peaceful End. The Balance of the Undead. (And his mentor was the Ghost of Time itself. THE very Keeper of Time, Kronos original form himself.)
Klarion honestly didn't know what to think or rather what emotions he was feeling when he spotted Danny, nor why his face felt so hot and red when the young man looked over at them and smiled. (He was smiling at Ellie but Klarion for some reason hoped it was for him as well)
It wasn't until halfway in the meeting when a rather ingenious prank that Klarion, Ellie, and a few others had set up went off... thing was it strong enough that it had hit Danny's side of the meeting and had hit him.
Now, again pranks were okay but only after the meetings. It was one of the few rules many, even those in Chaos, took seriously because once it was done and over they could go do their things. So for it to happen in the middle of a meeting means someone set their time on the prank wrong and add the fact it hit a person on the Balance side...
Yeah not good.
Only...
Only instead of getting angry, even Clockwork who was seated next to Danny was chuckling, Danny threw his head back and laughed about it. And his laugh... was very cute.
And before he knew it, Klarion had already fallen.
-x-x-
"So yeah.... Since you have a boyfriend and know how to date in this modern age, I need your advice."
".... Klarion just because I'm dating Bernard doesn't mean I know how I did it..."
"Bernard? I thought you were dating that one Supes?"
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wosofutbolfan · 2 months
Text
When Somebody Loved Me (Everything Was Beautiful)
Alexia Putellas x Reader
A story of a lifetime spent growing together. To what end?
Songfic
WC: 17k. Check TW inside.
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TW: Bullying based on disability. Death of a parent. Angst. Grief.
Hi Guys.
This has sat in my drafts for months and inside my head for even longer. There is no part 2 planned. This is angsty with fluffy moments. Be warned.
I think we can all agree the most heart wrenching media moment of all time is Toy Story 2 and the below song.
If you don't agree. Move along this is not for you.
Reader calls Alexia, Alex throughout this fic. That's based on this video. Cause I have never heard someone refer to that and I thought it was cute. Alexia refers to R as 'Conejito' as a literal translation of bunny - I have since realised there's a more vulgar translation of this which I'm ignoring. Ha.
Spoiler Alert - This story deals with the death of a parent. Which I went back and forth on writing. Something about it still feels ick to me because these are real people. I may delete. Everything within is based on my own experience of parental loss. And it comes from no place of malace or weirdness.
This also deals with a severe speech impediment - which again, I do not suffer from myself but have experience with and hope I have done the struggle justice for anyone who may suffer.
My spanish is google translate because I am an ignorant English speaker. Apologies.
When somebody loved me Everything was beautiful Every hour we spent together Lives within my heart
It was raining on the day that you met her.
That was strange. For Barcelona. The rain.
You found yourself where you usually could be found, to anyone who would take notice. Which wasn’t anyone to your knowledge except for a few observant teachers. In the art room, in the back corner, working relentlessly at an easel that your favourite teacher would set up for you.
You had transferred into the school part way through term, and for the first few days as with most schools you were the new and shiny thing. At 12 a lot of the kids in school had known each other since birth and you were new fresh blood to entertain them.
That didn’t last too long though when they realised you weren’t actually that interesting.
Shy and quiet as you always had been, you kept yourself to yourself. Its not that you didn’t want to make friends. You did. You so desperately did. But you just didn’t know how.
You had a stutter. That never helped. Kids could be cruel. And with the move from your hometown to Mollet for your mum's job it had only gotten worse. 
Words felt like lead in your mouth, your jaw felt tight and you struggled to get your words out. They stuck in your throat and refused to move from there. 
The teachers were kind. Your peers were not. Your speech therapist was helping. You spent more time than any 12 year old should thinking about sentence structure and breathing techniques.
You knew your parents worried about you. Waiting for you to get home from school every day with worried glances and eager smiles; “Did you make any friends today niña?” your dad would ask, pretending to be casual, flicking through some book or another. “Not today Papi.” You would reply, never wanting to lie to your family, before happily jumping the couch next to him and starting to scribble in your notebook.
“Maybe tomorrow niña. There is always tomorrow”.
Well. Turns out dads are clever.
Because there was always tomorrow. And on an unusually rainy day for Mollet tomorrow came.
“Putellas!! Get back here! Pute-...”
The door to the art room quickly opened and slammed closed. The noise jolts you out of your peaceful reverie. A tall brunette girl smashed her back against the door and a hand quickly flicked out to turn the lights off to the room.
She clearly hadn’t noticed you huddled in the corner as she slid down the door onto her butt. Closing her eyes she let out a deep sigh and rested her forehead on her knees.
You didn't know what to do.
You knew who she was. Of course you did. She was Alexia Putellas.
The Alexia Putellas. Futbol superstar. Well… the 12 year old playground version of that. The coolest girl in school. She oozes confidence. Was always surrounded by a gaggle of your peers. Never without a ball at her feet or in her hands. But she hadn’t noticed you. Arm still raised working on the canvas in front of you, vision now impeded by the dark she had forced onto the room by turning the light off. You froze. Mouth slightly agape and hand starting to sweat. You watched as she rocked her forehead side to side on her knees. Your arm became tired in its upright position and the noise of you plopping the brush back into the water jar seemed to jolt her out of her stupor. Her neck snapped up and you met her wide, hazel eyes that bore into you. “Oh! Lo siento, I didn’t… I didn’t know anyone else was in here.” She was met with silence. Your stutter affected you terribly on a good day. Nevermind your safehaven suddenly being invaded by the coolest girl in school. Who you had idolised from afar since arriving in Mollet. Her head tilted curiously as she took you in. You felt her eyes drift to the canvas behind you. “Did you paint that?” She stands to her full height, still keeping her distance from you. “Why are you painting in the dark…?” She asks curiously. Head still tilted. Faced with a direct question you couldn’t put it off any longer. You couldn’t delay the inevitable. “Y..y…you, tu…tu….switched off….” Changing the words you intended to use halfway through was a coping mechanism that your therapist had tried to get you to work out of your system. She called it masking. You called it getting by. You raise your hand and point to the lightswitch that she had flicked when she entered the room. She looks at you harder now. You feel her eyes boring into you and wait for the inevitable laughter. The pity. Maybe even the cruelty that you are used to when people hear you speak. You cast your eyes down, waiting for the blow. But you just hear a flick of a switch, and the darkness behind your eyelids lifting. “I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have switched it off if I had known. I was just trying to get away. I kicked a football at Senorita Lopez by accident in the gym. They won’t let me play outside in the rain. Idiotas” You lift your eyes at her gentle, lilting tone as a smile teases your lips. She's moved closer to you now. “You didn’t answer. Did you paint this?” Her hand comes out to hover over the lines of your still-wet painting. Carefully. Again, you’ve been asked a direct question. “Si.” you reply, quietly. You don’t struggle so much with single words. “By yourself?” she asked, aghast, wonder taking over her features. You nod in reply. “This is so cool! Show me!” A grin overtakes your features as you nod more enthusiastically. Glasses slipping down your nose. Pulling out a fresh canvas for your new friend. “Lo siento, I haven’t told you my name. My Papa says it's rude not to introduce myself…” she stands tall and thrusts out her hand. Very formally. Very practised. “I am Alexia Putellas Segura.” You pause for a moment, looking at her outstretched hand. You wipe your clammy hands on your jeans. And shake her hand. “A…A…” you grow frustrated with yourself, the words getting stuck in your throat. You pull your hand away but Alexia keeps her grip firm and nods at you encouragingly. “Al…Alex… Alex.” you give up. Eyes downcast. Maybe you can tell your papa you nearly made a friend today. “Alex! Cool! I’ve never had that nickname! Most people call me Ale. But it can be our thing. I know you, you are y/n I remember Senora Perez making you stand at the front of class. Show me how to paint! Please? ”  Alexia was not a good painter. She quickly got bored and distracted by the newspaper on the desk intended for a paper mache project which she screwed up together, fashioned into a football and then spent the rest of the wet lunchtime kicking around the art room aiming for various targets that she would shout out to you. 
You dutifully cheered at every successful hit of the target. That night as you climbed onto the couch next to your papa and he asked; “Did you make any friends today niña?”. You couldn’t wait to reply; “Si! Alex.” You missed the way his newspaper dropped ever so slightly, and he caught the eye of your mami who was in the kitchen. “Ah, Si? Alex should come for dinner! We would love to welcome him!” He replied, his delight even obvious to you. “No tonta… Alex is a girl!” you let out. In that hilariously moody way only 12 year olds can. You became inseparable. Alexia was your best friend. Complete and total opposites. She would spend wet lunches in the art room with you. She would drag you to the playing fields after school and on break and you would be a goalie for her. Which was really just you standing complaining about where you found yourself and you dived away from balls as she cackled out a laugh. She came round for dinner with your family most nights. You spent every weekend at the Putellas household, travelling to her football games, strapped up next to Alba in the back of the Putellas family car, scribbling away in a notebook as you drew landscapes that you passed. On the way home you would sketch and sketch, only slightly hindered by the weight of your gangly best friend as she slept on your shoulder.  Your art would sit on both family fridges. Alex’s football boots would litter both entrance ways. Your mami would pick Alba up from the junior school if Eli got stuck at work. Joint family dinners were the norm.
Your relationship evolved through the years. Easily. Blissfully. You grew together. You became taller, however still paling in height compared to your best friend. You got braces and had them removed, You wore contacts most days now instead of your thick rimmed glasses. Though you still could usually be found in the art rooms.
Alexia filled out, she became less gangly and more strong, after years dedicated to football and training. 
Your speech improved. Your stammer only comes out rarely and you know your triggers. You worked hard every week with your speech therapist but you always credited Alexia. She gave you confidence. 
No one at school would roll their eyes or laugh at you when Alexia was by your side. She didn’t rush you. She didn’t finish your sentences. Nothing was more formidable within your school walls than if Alexia had found out someone had made fun of you, or not been patient with you. She got in trouble countless times defending your honor. Even if the teachers hated punishing her for it. 
You maybe realised on some level that you were as important to Alexia as she was to you the day that caused her to miss the U15 School Championship final. 
One of the more idiotic older basketball boys had caught you in the hallway. Trying to impress his gaggle of followers he had tripped you up as you were on your way scurrying into the art rooms to finish the sign you had made for Jaume to wave at the upcoming championship final. You had fallen flat on your face, quickly moving onto your back and pressing yourself against the wall. It had been a while due to Alexia's influence but you had dealt with bullies your entire life and you knew you had to just make yourself small and wait it out. “Oh s-s-s-s-s–s-s-oooorry it w-w-w-as an a-a-a-a-accident!!” the boy taunted you, leaning over you and exaggerating your stutter. 
His spittle hitting your face and making you wince. He brought himself to his full height, which was impressive for a 16 year old and turned to his friends. “Honestly, how is she even in this school, she is so estupida!” His guffaw was matched by his followers however their faces quickly dropped as they looked behind their ringleader. “What did you just say to her?” a cold, terse voice entered the conversation. You didn’t see his face drop but you could imagine it. 
He quickly turned and looked at Alexia standing in the doorway. Sunshine behind her darkening your view. As she stepped into the halfway you took in the thunderous look on her face. You don’t think you’ve ever seen her as angry. 
You barely recognised her. “I-i-i sai…” This time he wasn’t impersonating you. 
He knew he was fucked. She moved quicker than you had ever seen her move on the football pitch. The tall boys friends quickly scattered as she grabbed him by his shoulders. He may have had at least two foot of height difference on her but that quickly diminished to nothing as she kneed him squarely between the legs. He doubled over in pain as she landed blow after blow to his stomach. “Alex… stop.” you instructed, gathering yourself to your feet. 
Your voice cut through her rage and she immediately stopped her punches. He scurried off as soon as he was able to, no serious damage done apart from to his ego… and maybe his balls. She turned to face you after shouting some choice expletives to his back, face immediately morphing into one of concern, eyebrows furrowed as her hands cupped your face. “¿Estás bien?” She asked, seriously. Hands moving to check you over. 
“Si, Si, estoy bien.” you replied. “You shouldn’t have done that Alex.” you regarded her with sceptical eyes. 
Her brow furrowed further, “What should I have done then? He’s un maton, he hurt you. I taught him a lesson. I would do it again. I would. I am not sorry.” she said firmly as she moved your head beneath her chin and wrapped her strong arms around you. 
You tried to pretend that the butterflies in your stomach erupting at her protectiveness were a normal reaction to a friend. 
Right? She repeated the same platitudes the next day, but this time with Jaumes hand on her shoulder as she sat in the headmaster's office. The boy she had humiliated so happened to be the son of one of the school governors. The headmaster told the footballer and her father that if Alexia apologised to the boy then she would go unpunished, otherwise, he would be forced to stop any of her extra-curricular activities, including the interschool championship final. Which, as headmaster, he really didn't want to do when his school had their first chance of winning in over a decade. She refused. 
She was banned from playing.
The team lost. 
Badly. The guilt ate away at you as you both watched from the sidelines as the 5th goal against your team went in. 
She grasped your knee, and still watched the game. “Stop feeling guilty. I am still not sorry. There are more important things than football conejita.” 
You took a breath and placed your hand on top of hers. You turned to look at her incredulously. “I mean, very few. Football is still in the top 2. Food is 3.” she continued, deadpan. Forcing a laugh out of you. You asked her once, years after first meeting, one sleepover when you were both lying side by side on the Putellas trampoline looking up at the stars. Why was she so patient with you? When no one else was? She looked at you, dumbfounded, genuinely confused by the question. “You have a voice y/n. You deserve to be heard.” she replied. Moving into her favourite position which was pulling all of your weight completely on top of her. Your head rested over her heart. You could hear the thump thump thump against your ear. You hoped she couldn’t feel the fluttering of yours.  
It was that simple to her. “Plus you looked like a rabbit in the headlights when I barged in, you were too cute. Mi pequeña coneja”.
Your Alex. 
You transitioned from best friends into girlfriends at 16 with no fanfare. A shy kiss after a win at Alexia's latest championship sealed it. Her grin splitting her face. Yours matching when you realised your dreams could become a reality. Hands held tentatively in the backseat of Jaumes car as he smiled at the scene through his rear view mirror.  Days later, as you both stood in front of your mami and papi shyly holding hands you realised, squeezing the trembling hand in yours, that it was the first time you had seen Alex nervous. In all of your years of friendship.
Alexia still had her weirdly formal streak, the same as the day you met her, so you let her do what she felt she needed to.
“Senor y Senora y/l/n… “ she started, taking a breath. “Mi and y/f/n…”
Your parents caught your eye, dumbfounded. She never used their titles. They rarely heard her use your name. You were always conejito.
“Alexia… estimada…” your mami started, with kind eyes. You could tell she knew what was coming. You shook your head at her slightly, Alexia too caught up in her own moment to notice. Your mami let her speak.
“Mi and y/f/n…”
Your papi, however, was not as emotionally in tune as your mami, “Monito, what is going on? Why are you being muy loca? Have you got mi mija pregnant? I know you're an overachiever bu…” “Papi!” you screeched out, interrupting him. 
Alex stood mouth agape, face flushed as she looked to you for help. “Papi, Mami, Alex is tr…try…tryi… telling you that we’re together together.” you let out, raising your joined hands. Your mami let out a laugh behind her hands, your papi however stood and exclaimed, “Was that some sort of secret!? Dios Mio of course you are! We thought you had been for years!  You made me change your bedtime story from princesses to football-playing princesses on the day you met!  Why do you think your Mami makes you keep your door open when this one stays, Mija?” 
Now it's your turn to blush as your mouth drops open. As he passes Alexia he gently smacks her upside the head, ruffling her long brunette hair. “Now come on cabeza de bola, me and the guys from work are starting a 5 a side. I need your help on penalties…” You huff out a laugh as your girlfriend is dragged away, confused look stuck on her face - eyebrows adorably drawn and mouth furrowed and clinging to your hand until distance forces her to let go. 
Your mami settles her arm across your shoulders. “I’m happy for you Mija” she mutters, in her gentle tone as you fall into her embrace. “You’re going to marry that girl one day.” Even after everything that would happen and the hell you would feel, you thank God for the unseasonal rain in Barcelona that day in junior school.
And when she was sadI was there to dry her tearsAnd when she was happy, so was IWhen she loved me It wasn’t long after you made your relationship official that you had your first real test.
You knew something was wrong with your girlfriend probably before she did. You knew her like the back of your hand. Though it finally came to a head one early evening at the Putellas household.
You had both picked Alba up from school, and you had set out to making dinner in the Putellas kitchen whilst Alexia's parents were both stuck at work.
It was standard practice, occurring at least once a week. You moved through the kitchen with ease. The ease is what alerted you.
Usually, on nights like these, Alba would huff off to her room like any other pubescent teenager, head stuck in her phone and earphones firmly in place. Alexia however, would usually be found attached to your back, arms wrapped around you as you cooked, or sat at the breakfast bar, swiping chopped veggies til you hit her with a spoon to make her stop, rolling your eyes as she insisted she was a growing girl and she needed the extra.
No, this was too easy, you thought, as you moved around, you missed your big inconvenience in the kitchen and you made sure your pasta sauce was bubbling nicely and went to search for her. 
You find her in the living room, her large frame draped over the sofa, eyes mindlessly watching the TV. But you can tell she isn’t watching whatever is on. Ale isn’t a big TV-watcher. She's very rarely sitting still for long enough to concentrate. The exception being if you're in her lap, where she entertains herself by playing with your hair or tracing the lines on your palm. “Hey, amor, estás bien?” your voice brings her out of her thoughts, “Ey? Ah sí conejito, lo siento, is dinner ready?” she asks, making to stand, but being stopped by your hand on her shoulder.  “Ay, when did I become the hired help, ey?” you ask, trying to tease a smile out of your girlfriend. “Dinner will be ready soon. Tell me what's on your mind.” The thing about Alex is she’s an open book. People may think she is stern and serious but she wears her heart on her sleeve. You can always see her thoughts plainly on her face, so you know something troubling her. She knows she can’t hide it from you, so she doesn’t try. “I’ve been offered a professional contract.” She states, plainley. Your heart lifts for her. Your whole life Alexia has bled football. For many years she believed, and you did too though you would never admit it, that it wouldn't be possible to make a career from the sport. You don’t think you have ever seen Alexia as sad as when she aged out of the Barcelona FC teams. She was devastated. It was a harsh reminder that Spain wasn't the USA. The opportunities are not always available. But the thing you loved most about Alexia was her dogged determinedness. She would train in the morning, in the afternoon, between classes. You are overjoyed that all of that hard work has paid off. Something wasn’t adding up with her reaction, however. “Alex, that's amazing news!” you exclaimed, unable to hide the joy in your voice. “Why are you not more excited? Is it a bad deal?” “No, amor, it is a fair deal.” she sighs. You just look into her eyes, waiting for her to tell you what she wants to share. She takes a deep breath. “It’s Levante, I would have to move to Valencia.” Ah, you see. Your heart breaks at the sad frown painted on the usually stern face of your girlfriend. Your hand moves up to trace her eyebrow, forcing them to unfrown and moving down to cup her cheek. She leans heavily into the warmth of your hand, and damp eyes open, fixing to yours. “Oh Alex, it’s okay” you whisper. The truth is you had always known that with the career your girlfriend was destined to follow, that you would have to spend time away from each other. You already did. Alexia has often been away throughout your friendship and now your relationship for national camps. 
You had a very mature relationship for 17 year olds. Having been woven into each other's lives for so many years. You were part of each other's DNA. You knew how to manage the time without your girlfriend. You were both grade A communicators. You accepted that this would be different, and no doubt unimaginably hard for the footballer, her family was her life. But so was football. And you know you needed to encourage her to take this step. “It’s not okay!” she stated, firmly, sitting up straight on the couch. “It’s not fair! Finally I get what I have dreamed of but it comes at the expense of everything I love. Mi familia, Barcelona, you! Why can’t I have both? I don’t know what to do” “You go to Levante, Alexia.” you say, seriously, “This is a huge opportunity for you.” She looks at you incredulously and you’re not sure what you’ve done wrong. “Oh, so it is that easy for you? Si? You just let me go like it doesn’t even bother you!” You aren’t used to Alexia's stern frown being sent your way, usually it's aimed at someone in defence of you. Or at a goalkeeper.  You, however, know the brunette is feeling vulnerable, she has waves of insecurity at times, she puts so much pressure on herself it's inevitable, but you are always there to assure her of her worth, and your love. “You know that's not true, amor.” you say, tenderly, hand reaching into her brunette locks to sooth her. “I agree, it’s not fair that Barca don’t have a women's team but I have always known your talent would take you away from me, “ she opens her mouth to interject, “but I love you. And I know you love me. We are tethered. Forever. When, not if, you go to Valencia, we will make it work. You know we will amor, you can have both” “But I will miss you.” she whimpers, pathetically. “I will miss you every second. But it will get better, it’ll pass Alex.” Her head finds your neck as she settles in there. Her larger frame is quite comically draped over you. “Do you promise?” she lets out, weakly. And you don’t let a moment pass, “I promise.” and seal your promise with a kiss to the crown of her head. She moves her chin up and faces you, “Beso, por favour” she asks, who are you to refuse? You kiss softly, you don’t know how many minutes you are tasting her sweet lips pass before you are interrupted by a sulky 14 year old.  “Ewwww!”
Alba appeared, making the two of you split apart, her disgust at the scene she's found making you laugh as Alexia peels herself from you, rolling her eyes.
“I’m gonna tell Mami that you two were making out instead of feeding m…ahh!” Albas accusations getting lost as Alexia chases her around the living room, ready to fight in a way only sisters can.
A strange smelling odour fills your nose. Oh… Oh no. You rush into the kitchen to find your dinner smoking on the hob.
“Oi, Putellas diablos!” You stick your head into the living room where you find Alexia sat on her younger sister whilst she tries to battle off the huge weight she finds on herself. They both pause and look at you guiltily. “C’mon, shoes on, we’re going out to eat, on me, we’re celebrating!”
Both of them unite in cheers as they childishly jump up and run to the front door in glee, shoving each other out of the way to try to get their shoes on first as you watch, affectionately shaking your head.
It will be months later, after a summer filled with memories made with your girlfriend, days at the beach, trips to the market, lazy days at home and soft moments made in the streets of Barna, that you would find yourself alone in bed.
That was weird.
You had spent the day packing with Alexia, the sadness of moving away had started to be replaced with excitement from the tall girl. Her dreams were coming true, okay, it may not be perfect, she finally understands, but it's a step in the right direction.
She can’t believe that she's going to get paid to play football.
Paid. The evening after a long day of packing was spent having a family meal at the Putellas household. Your family is also in attendance. It was a loud and joyous affair and it helped to keep the sadness out of your girlfriend's eyes. After a long evening of sombremesa Alexia had insisted on coming back with you to your parents to your house.
She didn’t want to spend her last evening in Barcelona in her empty bedroom, instead finding solace in yours. You had both talked into the early hours, in the arms of each other, trading soft touches and exchanging breaths until sleep took you. You pretended for her sake that you couldn’t hear her rattling breaths or feel the dampness of her cheeks on your fingers.
Now, however, you were alone, and unsure at what woke you up. Until a tapping comes to your attention. You sit up in bed and hear it again. What is that? You get out of bed and go towards your window, yep, there it is again, coming from outside. You throw open the curtains and peer out into the moonlit garden.
It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness but you can’t take that moment because you suddenly are hit squarely in the face by a pebble. 
“Ouch.. what the he…” you stand suddenly and bang your head on the window frame “Ow, Fuck!” “Ay Dios Mío, lo siento amor! I didn’t see you had opened the window!” Alexia's panicked voice reached your ears, why was she in the garden? What the hell was going on? “Are you okay conejito?” You take a moment to steady yourself and your mind into your new and abrupt situation. “Conejito?” “Yes, Alex, I am fine. What are you doing out there?” You’re met with silence. “Al?” The tall brunette is scuffing her foot against the pebbles of the garden that she had previously been launching at the window. “I don’t want to say. I feel stupid now.” You arch your eyebrow in her direction. You don't think that she can even see it but she knows what's aimed in her direction. “I couldn’t sleep. I was too excited. And also sad. And muddled. And I will miss you so much so I was just imagining how good it will feel when you visit, or I visit. Or when I score a goal and you’re watching. Which I know you’ve seen but now it's my job.” she rambles, pausing momentarily to take a breath. 
“Anyway, I thought about how cool it would be if I came to visit and woke you up by throwing stones at your window like in a film! You’d love that! Then I just couldn’t wait to do it. So here’s me, doing it. I’m being romantic.” She throws a crooked grin up at the window and your heart literally melts. “I..I….” and you promptly burst into tears. “Oh no mi amor no! Don’t cry. I didn’t mean to throw a pebble at your face! I’m sorry!” she gestures towards you with her hands frantically. “It’s not that Alex, you’re just such an idiot. And I love you so much. I am going to miss you so much. Get up here.” needing her arms wrapped around you. She nods vigorously and makes to climb the trellis that goes to your window. “No you idiot! Use the door! You have a key!” “Oh yeah.” you hear her mutter to herself before she scurried back inside. As you’re settled back into her warm arms, her huge hands palming through your hair. “That was very romantic Alex.” you mumble and you practically hear her purr with pride at herself. “Next time though bebe, use your key, I would much rather you be here in bed with me.” “Noted.” she mumbles into your skin, wiping away the tears that you can’t stop from rolling down your cheeks. Alexia got settled into her professional team quickly and efficiently, she was one of the youngest but easily the most talented on the pitch. You would travel up with Jaume religiously at the weekends wherever you could, your time in the week spent busy with the Art College you had enrolled in. Alba sometimes tagging along when you bribed her with snacks.
As promised you were there when she scored her first professional goal, her beaming smile sent directly to you and Jaume in the stands, stood cheering for her. You witnessed her wide eyes, after the game, as you stood waiting for your celebratory hug and maybe a cheeky kiss, when she was stopped by a little hand. “Hola.” the small girl had to crane her neck to look up at your girlfriend. She was shaking with excitement. “Hola?” she replied, confused. “Can I have your autograph por favour?” she asked, sweetly. Alexia just stood there, like a sim. 
You stepped forward with your notepad and drawing pencil that you carry everywhere, you had more drawings of inside a football stadium than anyone would need. You ripped out a page and handed Ale the pencil. “Of…of course?” She scribbled down her autograph for the young girl who beamed and ran away holding it above her head to show her mami who picked her up in glee. Alexia's wide eyes stared at you. “Did you see that?” “I saw that bebe, I handed you the pencil. I also saw your goal, superstar!” You couldn’t control your grin, which was mirrored by your girlfriend. “You played so well! Alex!” You're interrupted as she drags you over the fencing and pulls you into a bear hug. Her face nuzzled into your neck, her body vibrating with excitement. “I scored for you conejito!” she says “Well, hija, I won’t be offended, I have only been to every game you’ve played for 10 years” Jaume appears above you both still in the stands, smiling teasing his lips. “And you papa!” she releases you and pulls her papa into a hug. Dragging you back in after a moment before declaring that her first goal means that she deserves pizza and ice cream courtesy of her papa. 
Through the summer and the fall We had each other, that was all Just she and I together Like it was meant to be
You finished your college course and your love for art had never died. You made the trip to Valencia wherever possible to see Alex and she came back to Barna at least once a month to see her family and you on an off weekend. You would spend those weekends living at Alexias house, soaking up every moment together as much as possible. 
She would bring her clothes home for Eli to wash as she was useless at anything practical. You would make sure that you would always snag a sweater of hers before it was washed and keep hold of it, soaking in her scent before you could swap it out again. Alexia, used to pretend she hated it, they would always be returned with paint stains around the cuffs which would harden and she said irritated her skin.  You tried to be more careful but you didn’t stop stealing them.
You saw the same amount of her family as before she moved away, your lives had been so intrinsically linked that you had become an honorary Putellas, and she was a part of your family. You hung around with Alba and you helped Eli with her shopping when her car broke down. You were family.
Weirdly enough, it was you that met Alexia's future best friend first. After college, you started to make money from your art by being a live artist at weddings.
You knew your parents were worried about what you would do with your art. Teaching was the obvious choice but with your speech issues, it was your idea of hell.
This was perfect.
It was a niche business but you got paid well and you loved it. You got to go to weddings for a job. You got to capture people's joy on the most important day of their lives.  You would sit in the corner with an easel set up, sketching and painting guests, the dance floor, the top table. And you could immediately give your paintings to the couple and their guests, the validation was enormous, you were good at what you did. Discreet and professional.
You soon get a client list for miles and the money starts to pour in.
It was at one of these weddings that you met Mapi. She caught your eye during the speeches and you started to draw her outline. She was clearly very very gay at a very straight wedding. But it wasn’t just that that caught your eye, her tattoos intrigued you. And you loved sketching them and adding hints of colour here and there.
She looked up at you and caught you sketching, as guests often would, you were able to not let it distract you, ever the professional you offered a gentle smile.
“You like football?” a heavily accented voice reached your ears as you were adding the finishing touches to the dancefloor scene that was set out before you.
“Que?” It wasn’t often that guests interacted with you, but sometimes it happened.
“Your bag, FC Barcelona? That's not usual for a pretty girl like you, to like football.”
“Ah, Si.” You reply, your eyes not moving from your painting. “It’s my girlfriends.” you reply, emphasising your relationship status, not wanting a moment of confusion.
“Ah, boo, you have ruined my fun.” She replies, “Maria Leon '' She introduces herself, hand out for you to shake, you don’t take her hand, handing your paint-y hands up. She holds her hands up in surrender. “I see, I see. FC Barcelona though. Good team. No women's team though.”
“No, but there will be, and my girlfriend will be their top scorer when it happens”  you reply confidently. “You seem so sure?” “I am.” She lets out a laugh. “I can’t argue with that, then I will be their best defender” she offers a huge smile. Mapis smile is magic and makes you smile.
You and Mapi become firm friends. She talks. And talks and talks and talks. You don’t know how she has so much to say. But she is fun and she is kind. Your stutter makes an appearance as it sometimes does but it is perfectly offset by her inability to stop yapping. You don’t feel a pressure to fill the silence because you know she will. 
Years later, at a supercup final, you will both laugh about your first conversation. About how both of your statements came true. Turns out, people paid well for authentic paintings of their favourite moments. And as a young adult you found yourself with enough money to get yourself a small apartment in Mollet. You loved it. And you loved the independence it brought you. You think that was the happiest time of your life. You would spend days on your sun drenched terracotta tiled balcony. Painting watercolour and sketching the scenes both in your mind and your view over the square that your apartment was on. You had quite the online following and would get some commissions for your art which brought you a sense of purpose and joy. The absolute best time was when Alexia had a free weekend, or a break, she would stay with you and you would live in domestic bliss. It was an unspoken agreement. No question that she would make her base for her time back at your apartment. Even when she wasn’t there you wouldn’t sleep on her side of the bed. More of her clothes made their way into your closet. More of her sweaters would get paint marks on them. You would cook together, sing together, dance together in your small kitchenette. Feeling happy and in love as only young people can. Nothing gets between you. Training had been kind to your girlfriend, and you struggled to keep your eyes off her as she would do basic tasks. She was thick. For want of a better word. Her gangly limbs had become pure muscle, her back would ripple when putting on a t-shirt, you would find yourself staring at her forearms as she would cut vegetables. She knew what she did to you and she loved it. Often sending a wink your was and sending you into more of a stuttering mess then usual, heat climbing to your face. You felt your heart grow as you would go shopping for groceries together. Take strolls in the square, you sitting on a bench and sketching as she inevitably got herself involved in a football game with the local kids. Her favourite time of day would be Friday nights. Often, if she was lucky, she would be scheduled an early kick off on fridays. You would travel back from the game together with her papi. You took the backseat as you knew you would monopolise her time back all weekend. Giving her a chance to catch up with her family. You would get home, she would shower whilst you made a light dinner, both taking it in on the balcony before moving inside and settling on the couch. She would put on some illegally screened recordings of the game she had played in. But she would mute it as she pulled you into her chest. You would have a sketchbook in hand and continue working on your art, or a piece from a wedding that needed finishing up. You always told her the commentary wouldn’t distract you. But she insisted. Once finally saying, “I like the sound of your pencil, it soothes me, and sometimes you trace the sketch on my leg with your free hand. It gives me goosebumps. I like it.” you never asked again. You argued, of course, like any couple did. But it never lasted long. Alex would get angry when she would find paint in the sink, and you would struggle to share your space at first. But you never went to bed in a fight. Even if you tried to be stubborn your body would fail you and you would gravitate towards her in the moments before sleep, muttering your apologies or forgiveness. In those early days of young adulthood it would be the only time in your relationship where you had more money than Alex. 
Football did not pay well. It did not pay a living wage. 
You didn’t care. 
You felt privileged every time you scanned your card for the groceries, or paid for dinner on a date. You knew she hated it though. “One day conejito, I will give you everything life can offer, I promise” she would whisper into your skin whilst she tried to make it up to you in other ways. You would always tell her you had everything you needed right there with you. It was perfect. Life was perfect. You had friends, a stable job, the love of your life. Yes, distance was hard, yes, each time she left you would cry and hold her tighter to you, but you knew it wasn’t forever, and you never felt that distance in your relationship. You grew together, like a plant, your love was carefully cultivated in experiences and shared memories.
And when she was lonely I was there to comfort her And I knew that she loved me
You had never felt sadness like it. It was all encompassing. You couldn’t get away from it. You were sad for your chosen family. You were sad for your own family. You were sad for yourself. But you were devastated for your girlfriend. You didn’t know what to do with so much sadness. You couldn’t hold it in, but you couldn’t let it out. You needed to be strong for your girlfriend. Who was walking around as a shell of the person that you knew her to be. Well, that was when she was walking, she would throw herself into her childhood bedroom and stay there silently for hours. You would be okay with it if she was sleeping, but she just stared at the wall aimlessly. Her Papa was her inspiration. The reason she got into football. She would look up to him even as she towered over him. And it was so so cruel that he had been taken away from her in such a manner. A week after Jamues passing you found yourself next to Alexia at his funeral. It was a beautiful affair, a celebration of the life of a man who loved hard and was loved hard. The morning had been difficult, you had ironed Alexia's dress and set it out for her. She took your instruction like a small child, you brushed her hair straight and pulled it out from her face. You struggled to speak. Such immense grief you felt the words became garbled in your mouth, rendering you mute. But you didn’t want any pressure on Alexia. 
You knew when your stutter made an appearance she would drop everything, concentrate on doing your exercises with you, hand automatically cupping your jaw and massaging the soft area beneath your ear because she knew that relaxed your facial muscles. So you both moved around silently. That morning. As you guided her around what needed to be done. As you packed her bag with tissues you hoped that you needed to use them. You hadn’t seen her cry since she rushed home from Valencia to the news. So no, you didn’t know what to do with your grief. You loved him too. He was the first person you had loved and lost. You had your own special relationship built from long car journeys and shared snacks. He would put your art on his fridge like you were one of his own. He was kind and he was half of the person who you loved to your core. God. If you felt like this. You don’t know how Alexia was still breathing. You had been spending all week as the Putellas household. Not leaving Alex's side. But also not leaving Alba, who would lean heavily into you of an evening, seemingly crying all of the tears that her sister couldn’t. It felt healthy though, through the tears you could share memories and make her laugh. You would go to bed with Alex and the silence would continue. When you were sure she was asleep you would sneak out of bed and grab your sketch pad, settle into the corner of the room and just let it out. Her dad told you once at a game how his father worked as a coal miner. He said it proudly, he adored hard work. That's where Alexia got her devotion from. It was a passing moment, a memory that you didn't even know you had. But it stuck with you as you went into the Putellas garden and took a lump of coal from the barbeque and settled yourself into the dewey grass. Hand not stopping over your sketchpad and tears rolling down your cheeks.
The night after the funeral you stayed at your own parents house. You couldn’t handle the loneliness of your own apartment. You didn’t want to intrude at the Putellas residence, and you hoped that maybe some time with her family would be what Alexia needed to open up. You were right, but not in the way you imagined. A soft clink, clink, clink, woke you up, This time you were not frightened. You had heard this noise before. You immediately jumped out of bed and ran to your window, showing it open and shoving your head out. “Alex! What are you doing here, why didn’t you use your key?” The brunette looked up at you with sad eyes, you saw she was in her pyjamas, eyes sideways showing no car, she had walked here. “I forgot it.” she let out, morosely. “Oh mi amor, no p..p..problem, hold on I will come down and let you in.” before you had a chance to bring your body back into the house you heard her again, “You left me.” your heart cracked into two. You didn’t reply but instead hurried downstairs into the moonlit garden. She stood there, with all her muscle and height, looking everything like a toddler who was lost in a supermarket. You took her hand in yours and used your other to cup her cheek. “Oh, mi amor I didn’t leave you, I thought you wanted some space.” Maybe you expected her to agree, maybe you expected her to disagree and shout at you for getting it so wrong. You didnt realise that you were to her, like an umbrella in the rain, protecting her from the downpour. With you gone she drowned in the grief. You didn’t expect her lip to tremble and her to burst into tears. “I want my papa.”  Those 4 words broke your heart as you huddled her into your arms, rocking lightly to bring her confort. There was nothing you could say, you just brought her into your bed and held her as she cried, painting her skin with whispers of your love “I know, bebe, I know, I promise it’ll pass, I promise, and I will be here. The pain will go. It will pass Alex and I will be here.” It became a mantra that you whispered into her skin.
As she calmed down you took a moment to think. As you got out of bed and she groaned in annoyance you hushed her with your lips to her skin. “Un momento, mi amor, I have something for you.”
You presented it nervously, unsure of the reaction you would get.
It was a framed picture that you had created. Not like your usual artwork as it was made from coal. Coal from the Putellas barbecue to be exact. It was a sketch of a man in the stands of a football stadium, somehow, eyes beaming with pride, laugh lines visible on his face. A footballer with a long ponytail and similar features jumping into his arms.
It was a scene you had witnessed hundreds of times throughout the years. You didn’t need to see it again to create it. The coal added a haunting and beautiful dimension to it. When you explained your reasoning Alexia looked deeply into your eyes. Holding onto the frame with white knuckles like her life depended on it.
“I love you.” 
And when Alexia scored and helped her team to win the U19 Championship for her country not 3 weeks later. Celebrating with eyes to the sky, fingers pointed. You knew that, eventually, she would be okay. 
So the years went by I stayed the same But she began to drift away I was left alone Still, I waited for the day When she'd say, "I will always love you"
It was as though it had been destined for years but finally finally the news came that Barcelona FC would have a women's team. Mapi had texted you with glee when the news broke out, she knew that she was stuck in her own contract but the fact it existed made it a possibility for her dreams to come true. Your girlfriend, on the other hand, was a free agent. You thought, privately, that even if she wasn't a free agent that she would break every law on planet earth to play for her childhood club. She was offered a contract and signed without any hesitation. A mist in her eyes at the missing presence in her signing photos. You drove with Alba to collect her and all her things from a year in Valencia directly to your apartment. As you unpacked her stuff, Alba on a food run with money you had shoved into her hand, your small flat suddenly felt full. “Alex,” You called, from the living room, you heard her shuffle around and pop her head into the bedroom where you stood, surrounded by boxes. “Si, conejito?” she asked, breathlessly. You took in her smile, that you had missed over the months, the light in her eyes, the ease of her movements. “I am just asking, I don’t actually remember asking you to move in?” You say, teasingly, gesturing to her boxes surrounding you. It was true, you hadn’t, it had just been assumed by both of you, as well as both of your families. A blush rose up her neck, “I mean… I-i-..”. You burst out laughing. “I am just teasing you”. A glint in her eyes took over and you had half a second to brace yourself before you were tackled by an almost 6ft wall of muscle. You landed gently on the bed with a thump. “Well, light of my life. I think it’s too late for that. Maybe I can make up for my rudeness.” Her voice takes on a sultry tone, attacking your neck with kisses, making you groan. “No, No, No, No, stop it you two! Why is this my life!” Well. Alba was back, You groaned as Alexias full body weight fell onto you as she heard her sister. You had a feeling you both had plenty of time to make up for it. Living with Alexia full time was natural. You had obviously had practice from the year she spent in Valencia but you didn’t realise how easy it would be. You knew where to step to not fall over her boots in the hallway without looking. 
You amended your grocery show to include all her weird protein-packed foods. She would help you get ready for work in your evening gowns that you had to wear to fit in at the weddings, and she would stay up to make sure you got home safe and listened as you babbled on about your favourite parts, all the while taking it in for ideas for your own wedding. You continued to make money at weddings, Alexia rose through the ranks at the new Barcelona Femini team. Quickly establishing herself as a calm and serious captain. 
She took her role seriously,  she would study games religiously at home as you would paint or sketch. Your easel set up in the living room or on the balcony. She would rub your shoulders as you painted, eyes set on the TV at the game. The shared time doing your own activities matched you both perfectly. And just like that, years passed. Years in domestic bliss. Spent together and with your families. Vacations in Ibiza and even a pet cat called Pablo Petcatso, or Pabs for short, entered your little family unit. He was a ginger cat who loved a cuddle and loved getting into Alexia's kit bag, he even made it to the training once or twice, and you had to drive over there to pick him back up. Dragging him away from 22 cooing footballers. 
Women's football grew, as did Alexia's paycheck. And with that, you think, looking back, as did the cracks in your relationship.
“We're here!” Alexias excited voice explained, you had pulled up outside a tall apartment building in the centre of Barcelona. She hadn’t shared with you where you were going. Insisting it needed to be a surprise.
“And where is here?” you looked up at the towering glass building above you, you didn’t come into the city much, you preferred the quiet of your suburb.
“You’ll see, you’ll see!” Her excitement was catching, and you found yourself giddy as the elevator took you further into the skies of the city.
“Ta-da!” She presents a huge open plan space before you, the glass fronted living room has views over the city to the sea. You could count at least 3 bedrooms from where you stood in the hallway. The kitchen was sleek, straight lines and clean granite. 
“What is this place?” you ask, confused, taking in your surroundings. “It's our new apartment!” What? “What?” you breathe out. “Don’t you love it?!” Alexia remains giddy, her excitement not fading and she fails to notice your unenthused reaction. Your mind whirred. “Come look, come look!” she grabbed your hand, and pulled you further into the apartment. Proudly presenting each room to you. “And this room. I thought you could have it as your art studio!” “Art studio?” you whisper. “Yeah! Isn’t it so cool, and so much space. Now I wont get cross at you for getting paint all over the kitchen! Pabs will have so much room to explore!” She turns around and pulls you into her embrace, you are still shellshocked at everything presented to you. “I promised you, didn’t I? I would give you the world conejito.” Her eyes are so bright with joy, the smile so wide on her face, you couldn’t help but smile. Yes, the sleek lines, the large space, and the modern kitchen were beautiful. You didn’t see it for yourself, you preferred your terracotta tiled balcony and your plants overtaking your kitchenette. You loved painting in your living room when Alexia would watch a match. Pabs crawling over your shoulders, your little bubble with your family. But you could see how proud Alex was of herself, of what she had achieved. You must have taken a moment too long, as her eyebrows furrow. “You don’t like it.” you said, plainly, “No… No Alex, I do! I was just so surprised. I love it, and I love you.” “Yeah?” her eyes brighten again. You kiss her lips softly, “Yeah.” “Good! And think conejito, maybe one day there would be room for a bigger family?” she asks, shyly. Your heart melted as you nodded frantically and threw yourself into her embrace. As Alexia's career grew, so did the pressure on her. She was often away, it was something your whole relationship had survived, but now, being away with both club and country, as well as in an apartment that had never truly felt like home. You felt lonely. You would come home from weddings with only Pabs to greet you, you would create art in your studio without the background noise of Alexia watching a game, or preparing a smoothie. She would do that in the living area. Nights together were rarer. Your love never dimmed. Alexia showed you in her every movement that she adored you. Date nights, whilst few and far between, were the highlight of your week. Though that soon became the highlight of your month. The one saving grace during this time was that Mapi had finally joined Barcelona Femini and you took it on yourself to be her personal Barcelona guide. As Alexia's fame grew, you shied more into the background. You weren't an extrovert. You would never hide your relationship and you never asked Alexia to but the only social media that you had was that to promote your artwork. Meanwhile, Alexia's followers grew and grew. A few crazed fans had deep dived into her archives and knew of you but that was only a portion of the fanbase. She hated the delving into her private life, and that caused her to stop posting anything of you onto her public accounts. Any trace of you, gone. Before being a footballer, in Alex’ mind, she was your protector, that hadn’t changed from 15 years ago. With 2021 came great change. All of the years of dreams and hard work had paid off and Barca had reached the champions league final. You travelled to Gothenburg with Eli and Alba, a nervousness in your stomach more than usual. For both your girlfriend and your best friend. You celebrated the win with a euphoria you had rarely felt. Everything felt worth it. The lonely nights, the travel around the country, the sacrifices you had to make as the partner of La Reina.
And as she pulled you into her arms after the final whistle, and pulled you over the barricade the same way she did when she scored her first professional goal your heart couldn’t swell more with pride. You don’t want to say that Alexia changed after the Ballon D’or. Because she didn’t. Well, maybe she did, she suddenly sported bright blonde locks which, you admit was sexy, but you missed the softness her natural hair gave her face. By the second Ballon D’or you thought maybe it was you that changed. Maybe it was you that put up a barrier. One that couldn’t be identified easily. But with study it could be noticed. The problem was that Alex wasn’t there to notice. Yeah, you were together, you did things together, you made love and you made memories. You went back to Mollet regularly and ate with your families and you went to games with Alba.  But Alexia was busy. She had brand deals, she had interviews, she had achieved her dream of being the best footballer in the world. You knew she was since you were 12. But now the world knew too. And the world wanted her attention. 
Oftentimes she was exhausted when she got home. She didn’t want to cuddle on the couch. She didn't want to walk around the plaza. She didn’t want to hear about your day. She would ask, but you could tell her mind was elsewhere, in some contract somewhere, so you started to lie. To give answers which would satisfy her without arousing suspicion. Always trying to put her ease first. 
You would decline for nights out with her teammates, you even lied once or twice and said you had a wedding to paint, just to avoid suspicion. Alexia would take your answer as the truth, and kiss your cheek lightly as she left the apartment which quickly felt like it had become your prison. Mapi could see through you. She would try to get you to talk, but she was Alexia's team mate. Alex was her captain. It didn’t feel right to discuss your relationship issues with her. Not when you wouldn’t even talk to the woman in question about it. You found yourself in the familiar seats of the Johan Cryuff stadium taking in the first home game of the new season. Alba and Eli by your side. The first game was always a family affair. With the Putellas cousins in attendance, a restaurant booked for this evening for you all. It was an easy win for the Champions of Europe. And as you stood with Mapi and her new girlfriend Ingrid at the end of the match chatting, Patri bounded over, sweat on her brow and joy in her eyes. “Hola Senora La Reina” she teased you, kissing your cheek, you had been around the team so much that they all knew you well. “Ay, Idiota, hands off” and large, familiar hands wrapped around your middle, a kiss planted to your other cheek as you melted into her embrace. “Congrats bebe” you muttered, craning you neck you see her looking down at you with a smile. “Senora Reina, you’ll come out for drinks with us to celebrate the win, won’t you?” Parti asked, full of joy. 
The attention of the 4 footballers on you suddenly unsettled you. Maybe it was the busy environment. Maybe it was being with Ingrid who you’d only met a few times. Maybe it was Alexias hands around you for the first time in what felt like months. But you struggled to get your words out. “Ah, gra…grac…gracias  for the invite diablo, but m…m…me…” “She’s coming out with mi familia Patri, it’s tradition! You know that! Vamos, I will come out quickly for a drink then join you all, conejito” Alexia interrupted you, planted a final kiss on your cheek and headed to the changing rooms. She didn’t feel you freeze in her embrace. She didn’t see Patri and Mapis expressions change. She didn’t see Ingrid's look of confusion. You felt sick. You felt like you were about to burst into tears. Your throat burned and you struggled to swallow. 
You felt small. You shuffled your feet on the ground and looked up to see Mapis' face had grown furious, her girlfriend's arm had come to rest over her shoulders, trying to settle her but unsure why. You went straight into damage control. Alexia has protected you your entire life. She had never interrupted you, she knew you couldn’t stand when people would finish your sentences. It was the worst thing you could do to someone with a stutter. She knew that. You don’t know why Alexia's endless patience ran out that day. But you knew you wanted to protect her from your best friend's rage. You knew it would happen one day, you just wish it had happened without any witnesses. For both of your sakes. “Mapi, it's fine.” “It is not fine!” Patri backs away from the situation with a kiss to your cheek and an apologetic look. “I don’t know what's wrong with her lately. I am going to kill her…” she moves towards the changing rooms but you pause her with a soft hand. “Maps, please don’t. It’s f…f…okay. I am okay. Ju…just go get changed and go on your night out. I will t..text you tomorrow. Please.” You look to Ingrid for help, you don’t know her well but she has the power over Mapi seemingly, and as she guides her to the changing rooms the small Spaniard seems to settle down. 
Not enough though, apparently, because as soon as she sees her captain again, a flicker of that rage comes back to her. “What the fuck is wrong with you!” Mapi hisses to her captain, “Maria, stop” Ingrid tugged her by the elbow, trying to take her away. Alexia looked up from her phone with a look of indignation, yes she was Mapis friend but she was still her captain, and they were in front of the whole team. Her defensive wall immediately came up. “Discuple?” Her eyes cast across the changing room, their team mates continued to get changed and pretended they weren’t eaves dropping into the mini argument that had developed.
“I said, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Mapi spat out. “Why did you interrupt her?” Something in Alexia's stomach dropped. Her hands become clammy, her body reacting to the accusation before her mind could. “What? I didn’t. I would never.” she whispers in reply, but more to herself. “No, No I didn't.” she said more surely, somewhat desperately. 
Mapi takes in her best friend's demeanour, the usually stoic and strong captain looked devastated, maybe even petrified? Mapi knew what she had done, but could see that Alexia would punish herself more than Mapi ever could. She stepped away, guided by Ingrid. Leaving Alexia to replay the last 10 minutes, desperately. Mapi saw the moment that realisation came to the Catalan Captain, as she bolted out of the changing room, hair damp, throwing her shirt on as she sprinted back into the stadium. Which is where she found you, moments later. You were sitting in the friends and family section, Alexias new baby cousin settled onto your knee, playing with your hands and babbling to himself. You made cooing noises and spoke softly to him and all her Tias and Tios got rounded up for your meal out. You felt her presence behind you, you could practically feel her anxiety coming off her in waves. You looked back quickly and confirmed your suspicions, her blonde hair damp and wetting her shoulders, her foot twisting against the concrete floor, hands knotted together and bottom lip drawn into her lip, chewing anxiously. “It’s fine Alex.” you said, as you turned, attention back on the baby in your lap. She must have seen this acknowledgement as her body surged towards you, she loudly collapsed into the seat next to you, the anxiety coming off her in waves. “Conej…” she started. “No Alex, I pr…pr… I swear. It’s okay. But I’m currently holding the ba…bab…ba… child.” you take a sigh. “I am holding the child and I don’t want to cry so p…please. It’s okay.” If it's possible. She looked even more devastated. Her whole face collapsed. She hated when you would revert to old techniques to speak, by changing up your words mid sentence. Alexia was your protector. It was her proudest badge. Before she was a footballer, in her mind, she was your partner. And she had let you down. She had done the worst thing she could have done. To an outsider Alexia's moment of impatience may have been a minor indiscretion at most. But to you? To Alex? It was the basis of your whole relationship. You felt safe with her. You had a voice, she said, all those years ago when you fell in love, and you deserved to be heard. And now she has brought that into question. “Can I touch you?” she asked, gently. This brought tears to your eyes and you nodded, whilst still entertaining the baby in your lap with coo’s and a false smile. She touched your knee, the heat of her hand bleeding into your skin. “You don’t need to mask in front of me y/f/n.” Alexia never used your name. “Please. Use the words you want to use. I am here to listen. Always.” You are interrupted as Alexias Tia comes to claim her baby, who you hand back with a last pat on the stomach and raspberry to the cheek. You are trying to avoid the next 5 minutes you know will happen. Alexia is somewhat rude when her Tia offers her congratulations, eyes boreing into your head. You sweep your hair back as you face her, having had a moment to think you get your words out easier. “Alex, it’s okay. It was bound to happen one day. Don’t worry about it. Please. Go out with your friends. I will go to the meal as planned. I promise. Alba will drive me home later.” “No.” Alexia says desperately, clutching your hand in hers, “Let’s just go home, amor. Please.” “Ale I made a promise to your mami. I am going to eat. I will see you later.” you press a kiss to her cheek and wander off towards her family.  As she stands, watching you interact with her sister and her mami, her teammates call her over. She feels torn. She just wants to go home with you. She just wants to wrap you up in cotton wool and keep you in her arms. Safe. But you don’t want that right now, so she turns to do as instructed. Throwing one more glance your way, missing Albas worried face as she wipes a tear from your cheek.
Lonely and forgotten Never thought she'd look my way And she smiled at me and held me Just like she used to do Like she loved me When she loved me
You came home early. You asked if Alba could drop you off as soon as you had finished your meal. She was happy to oblige, worried about your silence the entire meal. You were looking down at your phone as you entered your apartment. Assuring Mapi again that you were fine and she should enjoy her drinks. You go to flick on the light in the living area when a stream of light below the door of your studio distracts you. You push the door open cautiously and see Alexia standing there, looking at your work in progress. It was different to your usual work. A close up sketch of a hand, wrapped around a flower, tenderly, it was in the early stages, you could see the lines of the palm and the blades of grass in the field behind. It was mounted onto canvas on your easel and the splashes of colour you had started to add contrasted against the paleness of the room. She hadn’t heard you enter, too lost in the image before her, but Pabs making a run for the door as it opened brought her attention to you. As you stand there, under her gaze, you struggle to remember the last time you saw Alexia in your studio. Yeah she would bob in to let you know dinner was ready, or that she was heading out, but she didn’t come in often enough to take in your work anymore. Now it wasn’t forced on her in the living space. It seemed Alexia had the same realisation as she broke her gaze with you and gestured towards your painting, and then further, to your desk overlooking the window, where more of your work lay. “You’re amazing. I didn’t… I.” a deep breath. “I hadn’t forgotten but I think I… Got lost? Somewhere along the way?” you tilt your head curiously. You don’t know what she’s talking about. “I have been a bad partner to you.” 
“Alex…” “No. I have. And I’m not interrupting you but I won’t let you lie to protect me.” her eyes go again to your easel. “You’re amazing. You are so talented. You are filled with so much kindness. You deserve so much more than this.” her eyes fill with tears and she looks at you. “I tried. You know? I promise I did. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought this,” she gestures towards you and around you “was what you deserved. And it is. But more than that you deserve everything.” She takes a step towards you and grasps your hands with hers, her hands are cold, you note. As you take her in you see dried tear tracks down her cheeks, and… damp hair. “Alexia, did you not go out with the team?” “How do you think that I could go out with the team after what I did?” she asks, aghast. The reminder of the way the evening went washes over you. Alexia panics when she sees your eyes fill with tears. And she pulls you into her chest. “I am so, so sorry mi amor. I am so sorry” she whispers into your hair. “I have broken something sacred between us. And I will never forgive myself.” she swears to you. Though that doesnt bring you any joy. “I forgive you Alex.” she shakes her head in despair, joining you in tears. “You said it was bound to happen someday,” she starts, “Do not think like that amor. It was not. This is not your fault. In any way. It is mine. Please don’t think that, you deserve to be heard. I am so so sorry. So sorry. I will never do it again, promesa.”  All you can do is nod into her chest.
She pulls you from the room and settles you both into the sofa, keeping the light off, only the skyline of the city illuminating your living room through the large, glassed wall. 
She lets you cry into her t-shirt, soaking it more than her damp hair, and through the darkness you pull away and take in her face, she looks youthful. Gone, the professional make up, the expensive jewellery, and hair darkened by the dampness from her shower. You take in a large choked breath. “We need to talk.” you let out. Fear takes over her features and she starts to shake her head. “No, Mi Conejito please no, don’t do this.” she wails. It is a heart wrenching sound. She thinks she's going to be sick. “Woah, woah, woah” you place your hands on her cheeks and pull her panicked eyes to yours; “Mi amor I am not breaking up with you.” you state, clearly. “I am not. Now breathe with me.” Her eyes steady from their darting around the room in fear, and you place your hand on her chest, making her breathe with you. “Okay, okay… okay. Yes, please. Talk to me.” she begs, trying to get oxygen back into her lungs.  “I feel alone. I feel… sa…sad. A lot of the time. And I know… you y…you aren’t doing it on pur…purpose.” Your girlfriend looks heartbroken. Like she had just found out her entire family had died. But refuses to interrupt you as you speak. But you have needed this conversation for so long, that the words start to tumble out of you. Getting lodged in your throat. Har large hand comes up to that familiar place, and massages the soft tissue behind your jaw. Trying to help you without interrupting. “You aren’t doing it on purpose.” you repeat. She pauses for a moment and doesn't ask what you thought she would. “Why am I making you anxious?” she asks, cutting through your thoughts. You move away from her and settle your elbows to your knees. Rubbing your face as you feel a large hand settle onto your back. You hated your stutter. You hated that it ruled your life, but most of all you hated how it exposed you. You were like a child who can’t hide a blush in front of their crush. “You aren’t, Alexia.” “Alex.” she corrects, “I am Alex to you” she insists, “your Alex. It’s just me, mi amor.” she looks at you desperately. “I feel alone, you are never here, and when you are here physically, you aren’t here in your head. Your head is in the clouds, it is with your agent, with your coach, it is not with me.” you’ve started now, so you won’t be able to stop yourself “it is me and Pabs and, even though you're dumb as bricks bebe, you're a better conversationalist than him” you try to joke, a half smile on your face. Which she matches, hand not stopping her ministrations on your back. 
“I cannot remember the last time we just sat together, the last time that we cooked together. Can you Alex?” you don’t receive a reply, 
“I haven’t had your eyes, look at me, really look at me for months. You give your time so easily to those around you, your team mates, people I see you out with at events. I can’t blame you, this is what you always dreamed of. But… I miss you.” Your speech is strong now; “and I love you. That will never change. But you need to know how I am feeling. So it's fair to you. I feel as though you are bigger than the world. And I am just the girl you saved in the art room.” She is openly crying now. “Don’t say that, you are everything” she mumbled, through tears. 
She knew that she had been busy. But she didn’t realise the damage that she had done. She had been to events, you had been at her side. But. When was the last time she asked about a wedding you’d worked? God, you used to sit for hours describing the beautiful scenes, and she’d store away ideas for your own wedding.  The last gallery you had shown at? When had she last visited your mami and papi, who had been there for her her entire life? She kept you off social media for your protection, but she didn’t mean to erase you. When had she become so god damn selfish. “Amor, I think that somewhere along the way, I had forgotten, and forgotten to remind you. There are more important things than football. Well. Football is second”.
You are thrown back to a memory, a school championship 15 years ago, sat on the bleachers watching your school get destroyed. The lanky football captain sat by your side. You can’t help it but tears fill your eyes. You missed her. That girl. The one you were and the one she was. “But.. you told me once, that I could have both.” she whispered, into your neck, “and you can, Alex. Of course you can. But you have to want both. And at the moment. It feels. It feels like you don’t want me.” “No! Mi Amor, Mi Vida, Mi Conejito. You are everything. Eres mi mundo. I am nothing without you.” she takes a breath, deep and shuddering. “I will fix this. Thank you for telling me how you feel. I have a chance to fix this. Si?” she asks, desperately. You nod, “Of course Alex, and it's for both of us to fix, I should have said something sooner.” She refuses your admittance of guilt and drags you into bed. She sticks to you like a second skin. Moves with you to brush your teeth. Standing waiting whilst you use the toilet. She places a fresh glass of water on your bedside table.You want to tell her to give you a bit of space, but the fear in her eyes prevents you from doing so. As soon as you crawl into your side of the bed she has pulled you into her embrace and the warmth that fills you goes beyond the shared body heat. For the first time in a long time, you wake up in the strong arms of Alexia. She hasn’t moved in the night an inch, and you take a moment to take her in. This is what you missed. Just breathing the same air as her. Just existing in the same space. As though she can feel you looking at her she begins to stir. Taking a moment to come to her senses, her arms grip you tighter around your waist. “Hola, Mi amor” she whispers into the air. Your response is a kiss to her lips, which she steals, hungrily. As you deepen the kiss you feel her begin to pull away. “Lo siento, mi amor, we cannot get carried away. Things to do.” your heart hurts again. You roll off the taller girl and reach for your phone as a distraction. 
You thought, maybe, just maybe, for today at least. You would spend the day together. “Things to do!” she repeats, jumping out of bed with glee. “Where’s your passport”. That grabs your attention. “Que?” you ask, confusingly. “Your passport amor, Vamos!” She had long ago left the bed, and had started moving around the room, picking up various bags which had definitely not been there when you went to bed and moving them into the hallway. She was like a ball of energy, she stripped off her oversized t-shirt she had worn to bed, leaving her standing in just her boxers. Your eyes widened at the sight. Well, you think, at least all the time not spent with you was doing something good. You find yourself in a trance, practically salivating at your view.
A change of clothes being thrown at your head brings you out of your stupor. “Dressed. Go.” Alexia teases you, definitely having caught you starting. This makes you finally start to move as you shrug on the jogging bottoms and hoodie she threw at you. Happily, you note, it's one of hers that you’ve already destroyed with paint marks on the cuffs. “Why do you need my passport Alex? What's with the bags?” “We’re going on vacation!” That stops you, half in, and half out of your hoodie. Getting yourself stuck. “Vacation?” you ask, voice muffled by the fabric. You hear Alexia make her way over to you, then feel her gently pull you free from your fabric prison. “Si…” she gently tells you. A look overcomes her face which you can’t distinguish, then she kisses your nose, softly. “Vacation. Just me and you amor.”
“But what about work?” you ask, still catching up. “You don’t have anything booked for 6 days, I checked your calendar. And where we are going, you can bring all your art things if you need them. I’ve packed the basics in my carry-on already.” “Not my work. Alex, your work. You have a busy week.” at this point you seem to have lost her attention as she turns to your question dismissively. “I cancelled it.” she replies, simply. “You cancelled it.” you repeat. “Si.” “Alexia! Have you lost your mind! You have training, you have that meeting with Oakley - you have the pre-euros media to do! You have a game in 3 days”  you reel off her calendar, watching as she continues to dress and pack her toiletries. She heaves out a sigh and turns back to you.
“Conejito, I know what I had, you don’t need to tell me I have just spent all night cancelling all of them. I spoke to Jona and he’s happy for me to miss the game. The rest of it doesn’t matter.” she moves closer to you again, “So no, I have not lost my mind. But, I did almost lose you, so please. Please tell me where your passport is so we can get on the plane I booked. Mapi will be here in a moment to take Pabs for the week.”  You find yourself standing there, stunned. She seemingly had thought of everything. You look into the hall at the bags packed there ready to go. Pabs sniffed them curiously. She’s looking at you with wide, expecting eyes. There's nothing else for you to do you suppose. As you turn from her and open your bedside table,  a smile can’t be kept off your face, you turn triumphantly with your passport held high. “Voila!” you present it to her; “What are you waiting for then Alex! We've got a plane to catch!” as you scurry out of the room and you hear the front door knock. Alexias cackle behind you. Alexia was always full of surprises when she wanted to be and she remained tight lipped all the way to the airport, refusing to tell you your destination. 
You assumed it would be one of the islands somewhere, with the size of her luggage maybe somewhere farther afield, sun, sea and a pool somewhere promised. But she shocked you. When you got to the check in desk and realised you were flying to Switzerland you could have been knocked down with a feather. Your Alex, who was upset when she even had to wear a bikini top in the month of August, has booked for you to go to Switzerland? 
She ignored your curious stare and just continued to sweet talk the check in lady, upgrading you to business class. As you descended hours later, between the snow peaked mountains against a stunning orange sun you couldn't believe what you were seeing. Your hands itched to claim the sketch book from Alexias carry on. Soon, after collecting your luggage and Alexia picking up a hire car that has also been pre booked (seriously did this girl sleep at all the night before?), you found yourself being driven through a mountain forest, as a lodge that seemed to cling to the mountainside came into view, isolated and beautiful. You stood on the wooden balcony, hands gripping a warm drink as you took in the view of the sun setting behind the mountains. “Look at that, Amor.” you felt, more than heard, whispered against your ear. Lips planting a kiss at your jaw as strong hands settle over your stomach. 
You fell back into her embrace. “It’s so beautiful.” you replied, eyes focused on the scene before you. “I saw this advert. Months ago.” she continued. “Just in the back of a catalogue at work. They will have the Euros near here, you know, 2025?” That made you snort with laughter. “Ah, I see Putellas, now it makes sense how you’ve been dragged from the beach, scoping out the environment are we? Anything for that competitive edge.” your teasing is clear in your voice. 
You feel a pinch on your stomach, “No, idiota,” though the laugh is clear in her voice. “I saw that advert and I couldn’t get it out of my head. It is so beautiful here.” you hum in agreement, “But what I could not get out of my head was that I wanted you to see it. I love seeing the world through your eyes.” 
She turns you in her embrace and she places a gentle kiss to your forehead as you feel her breathe you in. “You see things so beautifully, Amor, and then you paint them for the world to see. You are so special.” Your heart melts at the blonde, and you feel some of the despair that had settled into your stomach over the last months shrink. Here Alexia was, at work, flicking through some promotional material between interviews and training, and her thoughts are with you. “And I will not let you forget how special you are, ever. Never again”. You spent those days in pure bliss. You spend the days hiking - her pretending to be as tired as you at the peak of a mountain, she was a terrible actress but you appreciate the sentiment non the less - having picnics, exploring the mountain villages, and on one particularly spicy day, skinny dipping in an isolated mountain lake that a swiss teammate had told Alexia about. Evenings were spent looking up at the stars together, you firmly in alexias lap on the balcony, sharing a glass of wine which you held. She pointed out stars that her Papa had shown her and given silly names to, and you were there to catch her tears. She would complain only minimally that she was cold, and you would offer to warm her up and she would lead you gently into the bedroom. Nights spent in each other's embrace, sighs shared and no alarms to wake you. You would dance around the kitchen, play cards at the table, share wine and stories and just catch up. 
The pit in your stomach mended with each kiss, each peel of laughter and each stroke of the skin. 
One evening, after the skinny dipping adventure in which the footballer insisted that she must have hypothermia and had taken herself off over an hour ago telling you she wasn’t coming out of the warm shower until she had become a prune. You had started to add the finishing touches to a sketch of the scene beyond your lodges window when you felt the blonde return into the room, You eyed her quickly, flannel tartan pyjamas covering her tall frame, hanging over her wrists, matching shorts which are despicably short. Fuzzy socks on her feet. She looked absolutely adorable. 
You didn’t know why she was staring at you though, She moved towards you and you made space for her on the couch.  “You have your glasses on, Conejita.” she mumbled, and you reached up, as though to confirm they were on your face, “I didn’t know you still wore them.” You didn’t, too be honest, but with the long day of fresh air and a strong sun on the mountainside your eyes had grown tired. You shrugged at her, as she placed a soft kiss on your lips. Lovesick look in her eyes. “You’re so hot.” She mumbled, more to herself. You hear though, and the blush runs up your neck. 
You moved to get your work off your lap but she stopped you, pulling you back into her embrace and you automatically moved your knees up to rest your sketchbook there. “Carry on, please.” her chin rested on your shoulder. You hesitated, you didn’t come all this way to not spend time with the blonde, you wanted to soak in every minute. You wouldn’t be happy if she started to kick a ball around in the kitchen. She could sense your hesitation, “please. Remember, I like the sound of your pencil.” she moves your free hand to her bare thigh, “and it gives me goosebumps.” You fell in love again over those 6 days. You never fell out of it. But maybe you both just needed reminding. You felt whole, your communication about how you were feeling had worked, Alexia had listened. You just had one worry though, as the plane landed back in Barna you couldn’t hold it in. “Alex.” you said, before the seatbelt sign came on, gripping her arm lightly. “This was the best trip of my life. Thank you.” Her smile cracked her face, and she looked immensely proud of herself. “Mine too, Amor.” she agreed, easily, her face was peaceful . “But. I can’t go back to how things were again, si? I don’t think I could survive it, not after this week.” she's already shaking her head. “It won’t, I promise. I will not let that happen. Me and you, Si? That is all that is important” you take a moment, “And Pabs.” you amend for her, breaking the tension. “Si, of course” she rolls her eyes, “and Pablo Petcatso.” 
When somebody loved me Everything was beautiful Every hour we spent together Lives within my heart When she loved me
“Hey, Al?” you shout, into the living room as you enter your flat. It's been a few weeks since you returned from your impromptu get away. A busy few weeks. You have been booked up and Alex had to make up for the time she had lost, Barca were still in 4 competitions so the match load was heavy. You could see she was trying though, so that made the darkness that had started to creep back in more bearable. She wasn’t home from training yet. Which disappointed you more than usual. You were giddy. 
You had just found out that your art had been selected to be shown at a huge gallery opening in the centre of the city. An established and high-end gallery. It was a big deal, and it was potentially your big break. You got flutters in your stomach even thinking about the commissions it could make you. Pabs popped his head around the door and you picked him up giddily and span him around, his meow in response you took as a congratulations as you danced and laughed. You didn’t hear the door behind you open but you heard your favourite voice in the world, “And what have I walked into here, hey, a party with my favourite two? Without me?” Alexia laughed.  “Alex, we're celebrating!” you let Pabs free from your grip as he scurried away from his crazy mama. Her arms loop around you as you move into a slow dance, grinning up at her; “Ah, Si? And what are we celebrating?” “I got chosen! For the gallery!” Your feet leave the floor as the taller girl fully brings you into her arms, lifting you and spinning you around in glee, the squeal she lets out is full of childlike joy. “Of course you did! You are amazing!” she plops you back down and attacks your face with kisses. “I’m so proud of you Mi Amor and I am so excited to see your gallery. Oh I can get all dressed up and be your arm piece!” The thought brings you pure joy, the image of Alexia standing by your side, proudly, champagne in hand. Your Mami and Papi and Eli and Alba all present. Pabs in a little bow tie. “Si?” you ask, shyly, much more used to being by her side, “You’ll come? It is in 4 weeks. The 16th. You should be just starting on break.” A shadow of sadness passes her face at your insecurity, “Amor even if I was not on break I would not miss this for the world. If I had the world cup final I would call in sick. I will be there.  I will be the girl with the biggest bouquet of flowers in all of Barna with the lovesick look on her face.” It had been a whirlwind of a month, you had to put the finishing touches on your pieces. 
You have chosen to showcase your best landscapes. 
Scenes from the road to Valencia, The Square in Mollett, Beach Scenes in Barca, Snow capped mountains of Switzerland.
It was the story of your love for Alexia. Told through scenes only the two of you could understand the significance of. 
In the week leading up to the opening, you would spend late nights at the gallery, setting up lighting with Mapi and your Papi. Eli would walk around straightening frames on the walls. As you settled into bed each night, Alexia would open her arms and bring you into her warn embrace. 
You couldn’t wait to share your love story with the world. Alexia was having a bad day. It started bad. And continued to be bad. First, she woke up alone, which she hated. 
She recalled a kiss to the forehead and a whispered ‘I'll see you later’ before she'd dozed back off.  Then she realised that she had forgotten to charge her phone and was therefore late to training. Well. Not late for normal people. But late for Alexia. Then she forgot her socks and had to steal some of Irenes. She had a bad training session and Patri beat her in all their 1v1’s. And then the icing on the cake. She was dragged out from her gym session to do media which she hated. By the time she had finished the changing rooms were mostly empty, with only Pina and Patri left, scheming together in a corner.
“Ah now, Capi! Turn that frown upside down!” Pina teased her, “Ay, come out for a drink with me and Patri, the girls are all coming later, a bonding session before the break!”
And Alexia would usually say no, she wasn’t one for massive social events. But a drink sounded good. And it was the last day of training before the break.
Which is how she found herself 4 drinks in, deep in a booth in Patris favourite bar downtown. Most of the girls had joined them and laughter and chatter filled the roped off space. Something was missing and it took Alexia a moment to realise that there wasn’t a yapping in her ear.
“Ay, Pina, where are Mapi and Ingrid?” 
“They text the group, they had something on but they’re going to join us after. Ah… here they are!” Pina turned as Patri dragged her to the dance floor. Alexia turned to where Pina had pointed and saw Ingrid and Mapi walking towards her. She smiled and raised her hand in a wave, as they got closer she took in their state of dress; “Ay, sexy mamas, it’s only a night out with the team. Why are you dressed so nice? Have you just come from your wedding?” Mapi looked at Alexia. But really, really looked at her. “What?” nothing. “Maria, what? Why are you looking at me like that? Ingrid?” she faced the usually kind woman but she wasn’t met with her usual smile, “What’s happening? Wh-ohmygod.” It hit Alexia like a freight train. Like 10 freight trains. She physically had to hold onto the chair to her side to remain standing.  “No, no, no, I didn’t, I couldn’t have done.” She starts to pat herself down and pulls her phone out, dead, still uncharged from the night before. She holds it up to Mapi, as evidence, evidence of what she doesn’t know. As though it gives her a lifeline. She knows it doesn’t. “Ingrid? Ingrid please tell me I didn’t miss it.” she asks, desperately. The tall girl looks away, as though she can’t even face what the captain had done. “Alexia.” The rage is barely contained in Mapis' voice. “I can’t even look at you.” Mapi turns to leave, but it's as though her anger wont let her; she turns again and spits out; “Do you think she needed a reminder on her phone to know when the Champions League final was? Do you think… I can’t… I have just come from her gallery opening. Her life's work. A life shared with you. And here you are. At a bar. Celebrating, what?  A game of football? A half season well done? Fuck off. Seriously. Fuck. Off” Ingrid grips her hand and tries to pull her away. All Alexia can do is stand there and take it, it's not a hundredth of what she deserves. “No Ingrid.” She pulls her hand free and pushes her finger into Alexia's chest. “You are a selfish monster. She thought you must be hurt. That's what she thought. She thought you were in a ditch somewhere. She almost cancelled the whole thing to run around hospitals to find you. But then Alba saw you on Patris instagram. And here you are. La Reina.” Mapi looks her up and down, pure disgust on her face. “Your Mamis held her as she sobbed. Alba redid her makeup. I would steer clear of her Papi for months if I were you. She is strong, and she gave a speech.” Alexia couldn’t breathe. You gave a speech? She wasn’t there. She wasn’t there.  “Please, Maria, stop. I can’t listen.” Alexia couldn’t take it. She moved Mapis' hand off her chest and ran to the door of the club. One thought in her mind. Get to you. Get to you. “It's too late Alexia.” Mapi shouts to her back. She ignores her. It can’t be. No It can't be. She jumps out of the uber onto the unfamiliar street. The lights to the gallery are off but she desperately tries the door regardless. Banging on it with her fist in frustration. She lets out a scream into the empty street. Peering through the windows she sees wall after wall of your work. Scenes she recognises from her life. Football pitches. Beaches, Mountains. The scene from your balcony in Mollet. It was all so beautiful. So carefully curated. And she wasn’t there. She takes off at a run. It’s not too late. Mapi is wrong. It’s not too late. She will die if it is too late. “Y/N!” she barged into the apartment. She must have ran 10 miles. “Y/N are you here?” She runs from room to room. But there is no one there. When that's established she plugs her phone into the charger on the breakfast bar and makes her way back through the apartment. She goes into the bedroom. No, please no. The wardrobe is open, your side is empty. She looks around. Your things are gone.
The kitchen remains largely unaffected. Though the picture of you and your parents no longer sits on the shelf. Your trainers are gone from the hall. Your favourite blanket from the couch. She looks at the walls. Anything you had painted. Gone. Alexia always insisted that your art be on the walls, in each home you shared together. “Why would I want strangers work on the walls, Mi Amor? When I have the best artist in the world here?” she would say, making you blush. She was addicted to that blush. She walks back into the hallway. One picture remains in pride of place. The picture you presented to her in her darkest moment. You would never take that away from her. It was a gift of pure adoration. All it does is make the stabbing pain in Alexia's heart worsen. She pushes open the door to your art studio. All that remains are paints and blank canvases. Except. In the middle of the room. The easel. A picture she had seen before, in its early stages. A hand. A hand holding a beautiful flower. But it had changed somehow. Pressure lines had appeared. The flower beginning to wilt under the force. It wasn’t your usual work. Alexia stood closer. Entranced. As she inspected the image she saw the light tease off still wet paint. You had touched this up recently. Her eyes search, frantically for anything of your last moments in the apartment when she catches it. Too light for anyone not searching for it. 11. Blended into skin at the wrist of the image. A tattoo. So lightly painted but it etched itself fiercely into Alexia's soul. This was her hand. This hand that was silently destructive, was hers.  She saw a post it note stuck to the leg of the easel and in your looping handwriting: ‘Love is giving someone the power to destroy you and trusting that they won't use it.’
She brought her hand up to her mouth and let out an audible gasp. She runs into the kitchen and dry heaves over the sink. There, she watches as her tears splash into the marble. And as she watches. She takes note of a single paint droplet. Her tears joined it, creating the most heart crushing piece of work she had ever seen.
God. She used to get so angry at that paint in the sink.
It's been years, she thought, years since she found paint in the sink. How much did you have to lessen yourself in order to be with her?
She collapsed into a seated position. Back against the kitchen cabinet. And brought her knees to her chest. She sobbed. And sobbed. She was joined at one point by Pabs. She thought you’d taken him with you. But no, in a typical act of kindness you wouldn’t leave her alone in her despair.
His little bow tie still sat around his neck, skew-whiff, as he looked at his mama curiously. He licked her nose and she sobbed harder.
Weeks passed.
She doesn’t know how she got through those weeks. Thousands of missed calls. Hundreds of messages. Went unanswered.
Alexia didn’t hear from you. Her Mami and Alba had forgiven her after Alba had found her in a state and unable to look after herself but they made it clear they were on your side. Mapi wouldnt look at her. They wouldn't tell her where you were, they wouldn’t pass on any message.
She was too frightened to go to your Mami and Papa.
She hadn’t trained well for weeks, She arrived at training exhausted. Sleep would never find her. She was barely clinging on. Jona still insisted she play. She was La Reina.
And then she broke. And that's where Irene found her, after another match of lacklustre performance. In a back corridor of the stadium. Broken and staring at the wall in front of her.
A ghost of the woman she was. 
Her phone lay next to her. A message from you. A response to her apologies, her thoughts, the pain she had told you she felt for your failed relationship. 
Finally, Word you were alive. 
3 words in fact. “It’ll pass Alexia.”
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tiamathh · 1 month
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Compliments from the Universe
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Note: From the universe and me to you, you're all doing so well keep it up and take care of yourselves! My Paid Readings have been reopened if you want to check them out there's only 17 slots <3
Masterlist | Paid Readings | Paid Feedback
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Hi Pile 1! The universe is here to complement you on your ability to stay truthful and vulnerable even in situations that make you want to lie and avoid and run away. You embrace change and don't run from it which makes life a tad bit easier for you than others who keep trying to claw their way out of inevitable situations. You are courageous and beautiful and people want to court you or ask you out because of how fun and flirty you seem.
Fast paced those are the words that can be used for you, but in a good way of course you want something and you go for it, you don't wait for life to happen and life rewards you by keeping things interesting whether for good or for bad, usually for the good though. You're free spirited and have the ability to be alone and stay with yourself and your thoughts which is very tough for some people (me) to do, this ability of yours does not only make you very self aware but also puts you on a path to self actualisation and being the best version of yourself.
You're sensual and I heard the song "All I do is win win win no matter what" so you have that going for you, even if it seems like things are not going your way, you somehow still keep control of yourself and ground yourself till you end up making things happen for you. You do not go down without a fight and have a natural affinity towards healing. Your presence itself is like a bandage on a cut, warm and safe and protective.
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Hello Pile 2 <3 The universe is here to give you your flowers for being someone who knows how to protect your peace, you have the ability to save up and aren't a big spender which also provides you with stability and a good eye for investments. You may be someone who starts a lot of projects and even though you may not see them through, you still use whatever you've learnt from the previous project into new ones, whatever you learn you never let go to waste and always carry it with you. You have the kind of speech which can pull people in, the way you talk makes people want to listen to you, not only because of your words but also your voice helps calm others down.
You're blessed with the ability to see through people's bs and save yourself and the people close to you from such individuals as well. You carry yourself with a lot of grace and poise and may be very lucky when it comes to finances but this is not all luck it's also based on how you work hard for whatever you have. You don't shy away from controversy or conflict either, you know how to fight and you'll do it if you need to.
You refuse to trap yourself within the conventionality of society and let yourself do what you want and live how you want, you don't fear judgement, the only thing you fear is not being able to experience life the way you want which is very commendable. You entirely understand the concept of living for yourself and not for anyone else which makes the universe give you what you want if you ask nicely.
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Hi Pile 3! The universe wants to tell you that they're proud of how you are extremely firm when it comes to any decision you make and how you have the ability to balance rationality and emotionality and do them both justice whenever you make your decisions. You're someone who has grown into this role which is even more commendable because you were able to overcome your inability to make decisions and may have been wishy washy.
You have this feeling of restlessness and freshness to you, like the wind at the top of a mountain, filled with energy and gusto but just so refreshing. However, you know when to stop and stand still, you know when it is right for you to take a step back and self evaluate. You're someone who's very sociable and loveable, a lot of people are naturally drawn to you and you may be someone who steps into the spotlight with ease, you do not have troubles when it comes to mingling with people from any walk of life and could also have a lot of wanderlust within you which encourages you to experience new things and everything the world has to offer.
You're generous and willing to help anyone out especially when they're just starting out, I heard start ups so that could be important for someone. You have this ability within you where you are very good at laying foundations for anything, your foundation with your life and what you want to do itself is very strong and almost unshakeable and you may not experience a lot of tower moments in your life because as soon as you clock that something is not working for you or meant for you, you get rid of it yourself and don't force the universe to intervene.
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DO NOT PLAGIARISE, REWORD, REPHRASE, REPOST OR COPY MY CONTENT all rights reserved @tiamathh
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r--kt · 6 months
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Do you like Kakashi's dogs? Let's talk about why there are eight of them.
another example of naruto's ✨cultural code✨
contents | the eight dog warriors chronicles · legacy · eight confucian virtues. also look at the cuties love them sm
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Naruto Vol. 10 CH 90
[ one dog is wonderful, I'm saying as the owner of a sweet little york terrier. two dogs are good, they won't be bored together. three dogs? yeah, cool! how are you going to walk them though? four? yes... look, maybe we have to draw the line h- wha- EIGHT? Excuse Me!? ]
surely, it's worth starting with the fact that eight is a lucky number in Japanese culture — everybody watched Hachi. of course, this is not the only cultural detail where the eight is mentioned. I want to pay special attention to a thing that I didn't know about until I googled it, and this is clearly what Kishimoto was doing homage to with Kakashi's eight ninken.
The Eight Dog Warriors Chronicles
Better known as Nansō Satomi Hakkenden. and it's not just some kind of book, it's a novel, consisting of 106 booklets written by Kyokutei Bakin in XIX century. Hakkenden is considered the largest novel in the history of Japanese Literature. this is one of the main representatives of the gesaku genre, which includes works of a frivolous, joking, silly nature. further I will emphasize a few more times how damn popular this work is and how often it is reflected in culture.
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here are some illustrations for these books
now let's talk about the plot. It's weird, but it's weird at samurai-dogs-story level so stay here.
In brief, the story tells about the commander Satomi Yoshizane, whose native lands were attacked by the army of a man, whose forces surpassed those of Satomi, and the samurai in despair swore to a dog named Yatsufusa that the dog would get his beloved daughter Fuse as a wife if he chewed that man's throat. surprisingly, the dog not only understood the owner, but also fulfilled his wish! after that the commander refused to keep the promise. however, Fuse, true to her word of honor, went with Yatsufusa to the mountains and became his wife. upon learning that his daughter was pregnant, Satomi, in a rage, sent a samurai to kill Yatsufusa and bring Fuse home. she stood up for the dog anyways and died with him. at that moment, eight pearls with hieroglyphs that denoted the foundations of Confucian virtue burst out of her womb. (...cheers for mythology, I guess)
Soon, eight dog warriors who were Fuse's spiritual children were born in different parts of Awa province. after going through hardships, they got together and became vassals of the Satomi clan, then won the battle, and soon reached peace.
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some more illustrations made by Utagawa Kuniyoshi. from left to right: Inukawa Sōsuke (the dog warrior), Inumura Daikaku (the dog warrior), Princess Fuse (their mother).
the novel mainly tells about each individual warrior dog and his shenanigans in a funny adventurous way. huge fame has led to excerpts from Hakkenden being staged at the Kabuki Theater and mentioned in the anime and manga, such as Inuyasha, Dragon Ball, as it turned out, Naruto and so on. there's also a lot of films and video games.
The eight virtues
these are loyalty, filial piety, benevolence, love, honesty, justice, harmony, and peace.
they relate more to Chinese culture, but basically Hakkenden was inspired by it too. since I did not read the whole novel, I would still like to mention at least the values on which it is based, and which were embedded in the symbolism of this story. It's quite interesting to apply this to Kakashi's dogs. gives them more weight and depth.
It is also interesting to note that the reason why Fuse gave birth to dogs was also that her father was cursed earlier in the story in a way that his descendants would become depraved like dogs. in Japanese culture, dogs embody the duality of character: the same mentioned filth and depravity, and devotion and bravery. so as samurai. but this is a different conversation, more related to Kakashi and his dog poetry.
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Did you get here? Here's an additional discovery for you✨
Pakkun's name (パックン) is derived from the Japanese onomatopoeia “pakupaku” (パクパク) which reflects the sound of munching.
Kakashi, that's very sweet of you.
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thank you for reading this to the end ♡
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makingqueerhistory · 2 months
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Communists in Closets: Queering the History 1930s-1990s
Bettina Aptheker
Communists in Closets: Queering the History 1930s-1990s explores the history of gay, lesbian, and non-heterosexual people in the Communist Party in the United States.
The Communist Party banned lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender (LGBT) people from membership beginning in 1938 when it cast them off as "degenerates." It persisted in this policy until 1991. During this 60-year ban, gays and lesbians who did join the Communist Party were deeply closeted within it, as well as in their public lives as both queer and Communist. By the late 1930s, the Communist Party had a membership approaching 100,000 and tens of thousands more people moved in its orbit through the Popular Front against fascism, anti-racist organizing, especially in the south, and its widely read cultural magazine, The New Masses. Based on a decade of archival research, correspondence, and interviews, Bettina Aptheker explores this history, also pulling from her own experience as a closeted lesbian in the Communist Party in the 1960s and '70s. Ironically, and in spite of this homophobia, individual Communists laid some of the political and theoretical foundations for lesbian and gay liberation and women's liberation, and contributed significantly to peace, social justice, civil rights, and Black and Latinx liberation movements.
This book will be of interest to students, scholars, and general readers in political history, gender studies, and the history of sexuality.
(Affiliate link above)
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fanaroff · 4 months
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DP X DC Watchtower Blurbo
*feel free to add on to it or use it
It's pretty well understood now that Danny can be a little shit and cause trouble just by existing. There's no way he wouldn't eventually fuck with the Justice League over time if they existed in the same universe. He probably came across the Watchtower accidentally at first and stayed invisible the whole time, scared out of his mind that they'd somehow detect him. They don't, so he gets braver about visiting over time. Danny would probably start haunting them in his off time and slowly ramp up what he does over time. A glimpse here and there, the room being colder than it should be. The only reason Batman may not have called in Constantine or Zatanna immediately upon noticing is probably because he doesn't think it's caused by something supernatural. In a building full of heroes with multiple powers and a proclivity to pranking, why wouldn't you think it was one of them rather than a ghost (that you may not believe in) that may have found your super-secret hero base?
One of the heroes may get the main brunt of Danny's haunting, whoever it is can be you choice. They'd be the first to point anything out, the first to ask "hey anyone feel that?' or otherwise. Batman may think they're the prank instigator.
This goes on and off for a few weeks before Danny makes himself fully visible in different places all over the Watchtower and suddenly every hero is aware that there is a child haunting the place. They don't know who he's attached to, but they are immensely sad that there is a child that couldn't be save and is now tethered to this world by their failures. This isn't the actual case, obviously, but I love the trope. He doesn't show up all the time, they can go weeks without seeing him.
Things change when Danny is immensely exhausted from whatever daily going ons are going on for him. Anywhere from lack of sleep, to multiple days of battle, Ghost Zone business, escaping the GIW, one or multiple of them. Point is, he's tired, exhausted, and most likely injured. So, rather than keep up with the haunting, he spies a nice comfy couch in an office of one of the heroes and naps.
Now he's fully visible, vulnerable, and in one spot for a long amount of time. A hero is going to see him inevitably. This could also be about the time Batman actually brings in Constantine or Zatanna to come take a look at the wayward soul haunting the place and see if they can't give the kid (and the others in the Watchtower) peace of mind. The three come in only to find a small crowd (or similar) of heroes standing around a couch. This is perplexing enough as it is until they see what's on the couch. To Batman, it's the kid that's been haunting the place. To Zatanna and Constantine, this is a demon of the Infinite Realms that is extremely dangerous, extremely powerful, and why the fuck hasn't this creature destroyed the Watchtower yet??! Edit because @thestarsofpines made a great point of Danny being a BABY demon of the Infinite Realms that I wanted it on the main post too.
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