#people have RARELY spoken to her in english

[apollos-boyfriend]

came to the realization earlier that if my boyfriend and i take in my cat after we graduate she’s not gonna be able to fucking understand him bc her ass only knows portuguese 😭 not raising my cat bilingually is not something i ever considered would become an issue and yet

[livin4woso]

Never meet your hero (alexia putellas x teen!reader)

Summary - After transferring to Barcelona, the reader just wants to impress their idol, yet no matter how hard they try, it won't ever be enough. Alexia only realises their admiration when they accidentally push themselves too far.

Growing up womens football was rarely spoken about but if you dug for it you could find the media and thats when you in 2019 stumbled across alexia putellas a Barcelona midfielder with promising talent to be one of the greats.

You quickly found yourself trying to be like her and while she was claiming more accolades and fame to the name putellas; you were climbing the ranks of Chelsea academy football fast and not realsing you too were making a name for yourself.

Then it happened at 17 years old. You had somehow managed to gain the attention of Barcelona for a 4 year-long contract after making your professional debut for Chelsea just 8 months beforehand. Now, this raised some spectacle across the Barcelona team, and the fans, as you were young, couldn't speak spanish, which wasn't an issue but to compete with the stacked Barcelona midfield full of ballon d'or winners and major tournament winners was where people wondered how good you were.

Even you wondered how you were going to fit into the midfield, but playing with your football hero who made you change your playing style to the one that made you succeed was another type of pressure. You wanted to impress her and not seem like some scrawny teenager who had been given way too big of boots to fill.

You had arrived in Barcelona and the club hadn't wanted you to live on your own so the only other native english speaking member of the team keira was happy to let you crash at hers for your first year. "Im so sorry for crashing in your apartment for the next year, man. i swear I'll be clean around the place, and you know, help out," you told her as you were unpacking your belongings into her spare bedroom. "Honestly y/n its fine. Don't stress about it, it'll be nice to have some company in the place," she said with a warm smile.

You had spent the week before training at keiras just to settle into the area and get a grip on the basics of spanish and some catalan phrases which wasnt going the best for you or keira who was trying to teach you. It was finally time for you to start training with the team after far too many medical and fitness tests the team made you do. Keira was driving you there, and you had started to feel the nerves build in your chest as it finally hit you that you were meeting your idol and many other players who you deeply admired.

You had stood in the changing room waiting for the rest of the girls and as you stood you were using your hand to try to flatten out the creases on your training top and pushing back the fly aways from your hair to make yourself more presentable. Meeting the team wasn't as scary as you had thought it would have been. Everyone was friendly and kind to you, greeting you with smiles and shaking your hand until you were faced with alexia.

She was rather stoic in her features, and she was rather intimidating, but she was going to be your captain anyway so you just had to deal with it "hi im y/n erm sorry about not knowing spanish yet im trying too." You said as you tried not to stare at the floor as nerves dripped through your words "its fine im alexia, you're new captain" thats all she said back to you and ignored your hand that you held up for a handshake you thought maybe it was her lack of english but you let it slide.

As the weeks progressed, alexias attitude never changed towards you she would laugh and joke with vicky pina and patri, yet when you were around, it was like she could flick a switch of pretending you weren't there or would just blankly ignore you. It had started to get under your skin as you had took extra spanish lessons to fit in and would spend extra hours in the gym to be better to get better so she could appreciate you as a team member.

It had reached international break, and unfortunately, you hadn't been selected, which you had expected, and you had to practically beg keira. You would be fine on your own for the next 2 weeks. That was a lie in those 2 weeks you had worked yourself to the bone training and in the gym every moment of the day and while you thought this would be a positive you had been neglected your bodys health by not eating enough; by this point you were only eating dinner and a few random snacks just too make sure you weren't going to starve to death.

The change wasn't too noticeable, so it was nothing anyone was going to flag off as unhealthy behaviour, which led you to believe you were doing the right thing to be better for alexia, for her approval. You wanted to prove you could be like vicky or patri or anyone else in the team because to you she was your everything and yet she only saw a teenager but she didn't release she was treating you like an outsider.

Alexia putellas the la renia she had a reputation and she saw potential in you she did but she thought a tough love approach would make you a better player yet she had took it to another level that she didn't realise. She never noticed the way your shoulders dropped when she wouldn't compliment a good goal in training or the way tears welled in your eyes when she wouldn't joke on with you like the other girls. She was oblivious to it until it took a turn for the worst.

You were working yourself into the ground, and it was clear you weren't going to stop until someone told you to. These unhealthy habits had continued but not to the extreme when keira had returned from international break. They were so subtle that unless you were looking for it, it would be noticeable.

It was a Wednesday training session, and after an early gym session, it was time for field work, which was your favourite time of training. However, you should have noticed it your passes were sloppy. Your movements were slower than normal, and you just couldn't hit the target of the net. Then it happened it was during quick fire 5v5 games with the mini goal 6 minutes on, then 6 minutes off.

It was just your luck that you had been chosen to mark alexia, and it was round 3 of the games when something didn't feel right. You looked to receive the pass from esmee to turn and move forward when all of a sudden everything went so fast you couldn't comprehend it. Your body became heavy, and so did your eyelids, and that was it. You lost all control of your body, and it collapsed in on itself to a bonless pile on the pitch.

Meanwhile for alexia it was the opposite it was like slow motion she was stood opposite you waiting to defend your play when you missed the ball completely and your body went dropping to the ground with quite a loud thud which caused the game to be stopped immediately. She was hunched over you, trying to make you regain consciousness by lightly shaking your shoulder. The medics raced onto the pitch. However, alexia wouldn't budge from her spot next to you she needed to know if you were okay.

There was a ringing in your ear which had changed to a mix of voices and random spanish words which you could translate but not in the disoriented state you were in at the moment. You tried to open your eyes, but it was like looking directly into the sun, and the only thing you could understand coherently was alexias voice "y/n are you okay?" She asked you, her voice laced with concern "mmh what happened?" You asked back groggily to her."You don't remember you just passed out onto the floor, " she said to you, and it had set panic of within you shit. im done for.

You had managed to be hauled to your feet with your body weight being supported by alexia, and you couldn't tell if she was doing this because she cared or rather it was captains duties. You were now sat on the medical table after being forced to chug a bottle of water and an energy gel. However, alexia still hadn't left your side while it was strange to you it was rather comforting. The medical staff had ran quite a few tests on you to figure out the cause of why you passed out. However, you knew why your body was physically exhausted, but you were also mentally exhausted.

"So miss y/l/n it seems that the cause of your collapse was your body being overworked and a lack of the correct nutrition. We've noticed you have a slightly decrease in body weight however you have been adding up to 6 hours extra training a week we have on record." The medic stated and well it wasnt a suprise to you but too alexia she was shocked you could be doing this to yourself. "Y/n this isn't healthy why have you been training so much extra?" Alexia states to you but unfortunately you couldn't be professional on your response you told her the truth.

"Because im clearly not good enough for you or the team all i wanted was you to appreciate me on the team yet you hate me. I learnt spanish for you i tried so hard for you to notice me yet everytime you see me you blank me or frown at me and i want to know how can i be better" the words tumble out of your mouth as tears threaten to fall down your face. And in that moment alexia could feel her heart break she was the reason you had worked yourself to the bone for her and she had treat you like a piece of gum on her shoe. "Y/n im so sorry i thought that if i was tough on you, you would improve under pressure but it was really wrong of me im so sorry I'll try to be better for you because its not fair for you" she said to you.

"Well it doesn't matter anymore i dont care about you and your opinion and im done trying for you because its clear i dont matter to you" you shouted storming out of the medical office where keira was waiting in the car to take you home. The ride home was a tense one as keira had found out about your unhealthy behaviour, but you didn't need a lecture as she could tell you knew it was wrong.

Since then alexia was much nicer to you however it had never been the same you hadn't seeked out for the validation of alexia you had realised that praise is awarded and not always found when looking for. While you had never found the love to forgive alexia for your rocky start to your time in barca she had found solace in watching you progress and prove that she knew she was right to recommend you to transfer in the first place but she wouldn't ever tell you it was her because you needed to become your own player rather than tagging along to be the next alexia putellas.

[moviecritc]

after midnight ⋆ lestappen

pairing: lestappen x driver!reader

summary: charles doesn't want to accept that he has feelings for both of max and you

word count: 1.8K

warnings: making out, grope? (idk how to saying in english, but in spanish would be meter mano o manosear)

masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd

part 1 | part 2

Max and Y/N had once again achieved a 1-2, it was the third consecutive race they had achieved this result.

Everyone was cheering their names, and then there was Charles. He had managed to finish third because George DNF'd on the last lap and he took his place in the race.

Charles had always felt a mixture of envy and admiration for the Red Bull duo.

Envy for their driving style and tactics to win all the races and admiration for their personalities. Max stood out simply for being himself, calculating and fierce both on and off the track, his blue eyes sent shivers down Charles' spine. Even more so when he saw him without the fireproofs.

Y/N was slighty warmer than him, but still he feared her, with a somewhat rebellious driving style, Y/N had won the championship last year and was fighting for her second. She was much more open than Max and she was the one who humanized the team, separating her person from her race number very well. Most of the time she was Y/N L/N, when she got into the car she was simply the 1. It was impossible not to fall in love with her, from the moment she joined the competition she had become the girl of the paddock, the representative of all women in motorsport, and she wore it with pride. She has collaborated to form the F1 Academy, has financed dozens of girls to make a place for themselves in the sport and now she was forming her own F1 Academy team with Rare Beauty as a collaborator. She was an ambitious, determined, and also beautiful woman, Charles had found it impossible to resist her.

The most surprising thing was how well Max and Y/N got along off the track, they lived relatively close in Monaco and there had been several times when they had been seen having dinner together. Most of the people said they only had common friends, a few said there was something more than friendship.

The chemistry was undeniable, Y/N brought out the best side of Max in interviews and Max knew how to stop Y/N when she talked too much.

Charles knew the podium was going to be uncomfortable, Max and Y/N celebrating their victories and pouring champagne on each other, and Charles just being there, knowing that neither of them cared at all about his P3.

Surprisingly, Y/N approached him and patted him on the shoulder as she congratulated him, but immediately Max once again drew all of Y/N's attention by soaking her with champagne. Charles drank from his bottle as he watched Max half-kneeling and Y/N pouring champagne from her bottle into his mouth.

That scene caused Charles a strange sensation. Seeing Max like that, slightly kneeling with his hair and suit dampened by a mixture of alcohol and sweat. Y/N with the glow of victory in her eyes and her suit adapting to the curves of her body.

There was something so sexual about that scene that it overwhelmed Charles. His attraction to Y/N he had assimilated, with just a couple of words he knew she would be the woman of his dreams. The problem was that when he was with Max that feeling doubled. The idea of ​​not being a spectator anymore and being with both of them made his heart race.

After finishing all the interviews, Y/N approached Charles. "Hey, we're going to get a drink, wanna come?"

Charles blinked. "Me?"

He pointed to himself, surprised by the invitation and interaction. In all those years he had hardly ever spoken to Y/N, except for business matters, which made her even more ethereal.

Y/N laughed in a natural way and brushed her hair away from her face. "Sure. Max and I usually have a drink with whoever comes third, and today it was you." By the way she said it, it seemed like it was already a routine. "So? Do you feel like it?"

"Uh, yes, yes. I'd love to," he nodded, perhaps a bit too eagerly.

"Great!" she said with a smile. Charles was impressed by her constant naturalness. "We'll get dressed up and then see you at the club."

Y/N gave him a squeeze on the shoulder and left the paddock with Max, who had been present throughout the conversation from a prudent distance.

At the after-party - for lack of a better term - there were many people from Red Bull, too many, and Charles felt like an intruder. He locked eyes with Y/N, who gestured to him as soon as she saw him. She was at a table almost in the center of the place with Max, some friends, and Lando Norris. That guy was always everywhere.

"Charles! Come here, come on. What do you want to drink?" exclaimed Y/N.

Charles approached, somewhat impressed by all of this. Y/N made room for him next to her and instead of fist-bumping, she gave him two kisses. Max, on the other hand, stretched his arm over Y/N to greet him and then left his arm around her shoulders, bringing her closer to his chest. Y/N didn't mind.

"P3, huh? That was very good," commented Max.

Y/N groaned immediately. "We always talk about races, let's talk about something interesting."

"Isn't Formula interesting?" Max spoke, tilting his head.

"Not with you," said Y/N.

They all laughed and Max made a face.

Y/N once again focused all her attention on Charles, he noticed how Y/N's heel was circling around his calf.

"What about your love life, Charlie?" she asked, without hesitation.

The nickname caught Charles off guard, and even more so the question. If she was asking, it was because she cared.

Max clicked his tongue, telling him he didn't have to answer.

How was Charles going to explain that every time he had felt some sexual desire it had been because of her and her teammate? "Boring," he ended up saying, with a slight frown.

"Oh, come on!" she exclaimed, almost disappointed. "How can it be boring? You're too handsome for your love life to be boring."

Charles lowered his gaze with a silly smile, noticing that Max hadn't stopped looking at him, as if he too were expectant of the answer.

"Don't listen to her, Charles. She rambles when she's drunk," commented Max, rolling his eyes a bit.

"And you get a thousand times more boring when you drink," Y/N gave Max a pat on the thigh, too close to the crotch for some to think.

Y/N drank from Max's gin and tonic and relaxed against his chest because no one was starting a conversation. She quickly got bored and looked at Max with a pout. "Will you dance with me?"

"No," he replied immediately.

"You asshole," Y/N wasted no time. "Charles?"

Charles looked up from his drink. "Huh?"

"Let's dance," she didn't even ask, she got up and pulled Charles' arm while flipping Max off before heading to the dance floor.

Charles knew she had only pulled him to dance to mess with Max, but that moment was like living a fever dream. The music hardly had any lyrics, it was pure beats on instruments. Y/N pressed her body against his in time with the music, so much so that sometimes it seemed like she was rubbing against him.

"You have beautiful eyes, Charlie," Y/N said, getting close to his ear so much that he could almost hear her saliva. She put an arm over his shoulder and kept dancing.

"Thank you," he replied, not knowing what else to say.

Their faces were getting closer and closer, while both could feel Max's gaze on them. When their noses brushed, it was Y/N who stopped, looking at him for a few seconds. She removed her arm from Charles's shoulder and bit her lip, as if she were nervous.

"Hold on, I have to talk to Max," she declared, before leaving the dance floor, leaving Charles stranded and confused.

He returned to the table, not knowing what had happened, but Max and YN were no longer sitting there. Lando pointed in the direction they had gone. He found them leaning against the door of what seemed to be a private room in the club; for a moment, he thought they were arguing because of the tone of their voices, but as he listened to the conversation, he began to feel chills.

"You like him too," Y/N insisted. "Deny it. Deny that it doesn't turn you on when you see him in the fireproofs."

"Damn, yes. But it doesn't matter, I've already told you he won't want to," Max grumbled, with a distressed expression.

"You don't know that," Y/N clenched her jaw.

"He's very uptight, and insecure."

Those two words echoed in Charles's head. Insecure… he knew he was, but he hadn't realized until now that other people might notice it.

"Max, I really want him," Y/N complained. "Just imagining him watching us fuck already turns me on, imagine with us in bed." She pressed herself against Max's chest, with a grimace.

Charles felt an instant satisfaction knowing that they also fantasized about him, at least he wasn't the only weird one. He thought about the possibilities of joining the conversation, or just letting them know he was there.

"Are you Charles Leclerc? Can we take a photo?"

Before Charles could react, Y/N and Max peeked their faces around the door, her with a little smile and him slightly nervous. It was an awkward moment while the fan took the photo, but when he left, both Max and Y/N were looking at him with crossed arms and feline eyes.

"How long have you been there?" Max questioned, raising his eyebrows. He thought his friendship with Charles was going to become quite awkward after that.

Charles didn't waste time. "I… I want to,"

Max and Y/N looked at each other, with a devilish smile.

"Really?" confirmed Max.

"Yes,"

Max didn't need anything else to pull him into the room and close the door behind them. Surprisingly, Charles and he were the first to kiss while Y/N watched them. Then Y/N attacked Charles's lips at the same time as Max left marks on his girlfriend's neck. Being in the middle of the two was too much for her; having so many hands on her made her messy. Eager for more, she pulled Charles's hand towards her inner thigh. He stopped at that exact moment.

A feeling of guilt, almost shame, overwhelmed him. The other two noticed it and stopped as well. "Is something wrong?" Y/N placed her hand on Charles's thigh, but that only made him stand up as soon as he felt the contact.

"I can't…" Charles didn't finish the sentence. "I better go."

[baelabong]

CO1 (intertwined hearts)

Warnings: swearing?! Injury

Pairing: Yu Jimin x reader x Kim Minjeong

Masterlist next

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The sirens wailed as Jimin ran from the scene. Her hair and clothes soaking as she huffed out incoherent words, the adrenaline pumping through her. Getting in her car and driving off, the police caught up to her, making her swerve into a water tank. “Fuck,” she exhaled as the flashlight of the police shone on her face. “You again, Yu?” The police officer shook his head, exasperated.

———-

Walking through the bustling hallway, you head to your locker, books and bag in hand, glancing at the group of people hanging around.

“Hey Yu! That was sick last night,” a girl in a leather jacket adorned with high-end jewelry laughs out as she points at the girl entering the school. Turning your head in that direction, you catch sight of Yu Jimin... in crutches?!

“Fuck off, Yujin,” Jimin shakes her head, laughing with the girl, Yujin. Still staring at the group of friends being loud and obnoxious, Jimin turns her head, making direct eye contact with you that you quickly break. You don't like associating with people like that. They only cause trouble for everyone they interact with. With that, you stow away your bag, only grabbing the books you need.

Walking to English Literature, you feel a sigh of relief, finding Kim Minjeong, the class president, sitting right at her designated seat, which happens to be just next to yours. You've never spoken with her directly despite her status in the student council, but you've always admired her—from the way her blonde hair glistens to the way she’s always serious in her role. Minjeong has a reputation for being cold and distant, her demeanor icy and unapproachable, yet it only adds to her allure.

You, on the other hand, are known as the quiet, religious girl, the daughter of a pastor, who prefers to keep to herself. Your focus is on your studies and faith, rarely straying into the chaos that others seem to thrive on.

As you settle into your seat, the door swings open again. This time, it’s Jimin, limping in with her crutches, her dark hair falling messily over her face, yet somehow still looking effortlessly cool. Jimin’s known as the school’s notorious bad girl, a playgirl who doesn’t care about rules, always with a different guy or girl on her arm, and her friend group is just as infamous—loud, rebellious, and always stirring up trouble.

The teacher, clearly unamused, looks up from his notes. “Nice of you to join us, Ms. Yu. Should I expect another disruption, or is that enough for today?”

Jimin smirks, leaning heavily on her crutches as she maneuvers to her seat. “Only if you’re lucky, Mr. Choi.”

The class erupts into laughter, the tension broken. Even you find yourself chuckling at her audacity, despite your usual disapproval. But Minjeong doesn’t laugh. Instead, she glances at you, her expression unreadable, making you feel a twinge of something—guilt, maybe—for even momentarily finding Jimin’s antics amusing.

---

As the laughter dies down, Mr. Choi clears his throat, drawing the class’s attention back to him. “Alright, settle down. We’ve got a new assignment to discuss. I’ve decided we’ll be doing a pair project—a small debate on the novel we’ve been reading. Each pair will present their arguments, and you’ll be going against another pair to defend your point of view.”

The class groans collectively, but Mr. Choi continues undeterred. “I’ve taken the liberty of having your student council president, Minjeong, set up the pairs. So, if you have any complaints, take them up with her.” He shoots a wry smile in Minjeong’s direction, who nods stoically in response.

Mr. Choi reads out the pairings. “Kim Minjeong and Y/N, you’ll be working together. Yu Jimin and... Han Seulgi, you two are paired up.”

You blink in surprise, turning to glance at Minjeong. She doesn’t look back at you, but you can see a slight tightening of her jaw. You weren’t expecting to be paired with her, especially since you’ve never really interacted with her outside of classes. Still, you quickly stow away your surprise, reminding yourself that Minjeong is probably just doing her job.

“Exchange contact information now if you need to,” Mr. Choi adds as he wraps up the instructions.

You shyly turn to Minjeong, who’s already pulled out her phone. “Um, we should probably exchange numbers,” you say softly.

Minjeong nods, typing in your number without a word. “I’ll message you later about when we can meet to discuss the project,” she says in her usual composed tone.

“Sounds good,” you reply, feeling a bit relieved that she’s taking the lead.

As class ends and you’re gathering your things, you notice Jimin limping out with her crutches, flanked by her friends who are chattering loudly. As you step out into the hallway, you hear Jimin’s voice, low and mocking, from behind you.

“Hey, Minjeong,” Jimin calls out, catching up to the blonde who’s calmly walking toward her next class.

Minjeong pauses, turning to face Jimin with an expression that’s more irritated than curious. “What do you want, Jimin?”

Jimin smirks, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Why are you trying to get in her pants?”

Minjeong’s eyes narrow slightly. “I’m not,” she replies coolly, not rising to the bait.

“Really?” Jimin takes a step closer, leaning on her crutches for support. “Because last time I checked, you have a problem with getting along with other people.”

Minjeong’s gaze hardens. “And you have a problem with getting with too many people.”

Jimin chuckles darkly, clearly unfazed by the retort. “And I bet I can get this girl too.”

Minjeong’s expression shifts, a hint of warning in her eyes as she replies, “Careful, Jimin. That’s the pastor’s daughter.”

Jimin’s smirk only widens, as if the challenge excites her. “Even better,” she says, her tone dripping with arrogance.

Minjeong steps closer, her voice dropping to a cold whisper. “Don’t mess with her, Jimin. She’s not like the others.”

Jimin meets Minjeong’s icy gaze with her own defiant one. “We’ll see about that.”

Minjeong holds her stare for a moment longer before turning on her heel and walking away, leaving Jimin standing there with a lingering smirk. As Jimin watches her go, there’s a flicker of something—annoyance, perhaps, or maybe even anticipation.

Whatever it is, the tension between them is palpable, And at the center of it all, you remain unaware, yet to realize the growing storm that’s about to pull you in.

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Taglist: @multiliker @jeindall777 @yuyuy90 @idkwhatim-doinghere101 @minaripenguu @xinyusgf @gayforalll (open)

[deceitfuldevout]

A Woman Like You

Tommy Shelby x WOC!Reader

Word Count: +1,215

Warning(s): Angst, Sexist remarks, Societal pressure, Sterotypes.

Author's note(s): I've recently been using writing as a form of therapy. This goes to all the ladies that can relate.

You've fallen head over heels for Tommy Shelby, but now you're questioning if his intentions were sincere or not.

GIF by nofckingfighting

You made the mistake of falling in love. You should've seen the signs sooner. You started working at the Garrison as a bar maid with Grace, eventually moving up to being their sole entertainment. You were an exotic bird who had caught to wandering eyes of drunken Englishmen. Some folks would say you had these men in a trance, with your rare features and seductive mannerisms. Some even say you're a witch. But there was only one person who saw you for you. Tommy Shelby.

It was refreshing, being seen as a soft, delicate thing. His demeanor would shift when talking to you. He's much kinder to you that with any of his men. That was until another, prettier face had caught his eye. You of all people knew the truth: Tommy Shelby would never love you. Instead he'd fallen for your coworker Grace. She's everything you weren't. That may have been the reason why. Of course, you should've seen the signs. How he'd look at her with such tenderness.

Eventually his entire personality completely changed with you. Perhaps they were his true colors. After her death, things went south. Tommy returned to you, but only for physical intimacy. He was rough, unapologetic, and at time, downright cruel. He hadn't spoke to you like a lady, with basic respect. It almost hurt knowing men will never speak to you with kind remarks. As soon as you found a better option, you let him know right away. When you close the pub for the last time, Tommy was there. It was strange, having an Englishman waste his previous time on foreign blood.

You turn around to find Tommy sitting on a barstool, not paying him mind. Then something strange happened. He isn't usually this tender, not even in private. So why on earth was he telling you to stay? After every humiliating thing he'd put you through. How Tommy would shimmy you off his arm in front of his business associates. It only got worse when he'd flirt with women right in front of you, then ask for a fuck because it was convenient. Perhaps it was the liquid courage, maybe even the hormones that made you tear up with anger. But for some reason, you wanted to let him know he hurt you, "Enough, Tom, you need to stop doing this,"

He tilts his head up, genuinely surprised that you'd spoken up. His eyelids are hooded, "If you've got something to say..." he lights up a cigarette, "...say it now," how predictable. Tommy's cruelty had no limits. You were tired of being his little plaything, "I deserve better than this, better than you," letting him know how you truly felt, "You're fucking selfish, you know that?" tears already streaming down both cheeks, "You could've told me you were seeing other women, Tom," your vision blurs. Tommy objected, "You knew who I was when you met me--"

"Yeah, yeah I thought I did, until you decided to to make an acceptation with that blonde whore!" you knew what it would take to get his blood boiling. You wanted to hurt him the same way he hurt you, "I've wasted most of my life waiting for you to love me back, I wasted my good years on a man who wouldn't care if I bled out on the floor!" voice now shaking. You were filled with regret, pain, and anger.

He doesn't even know what the weight of his words did to you, "I know how you English men see women like us, we're always sexually desired but never loved, enough for a good fuck but not enough to make a wife," a chuckle escapes your tips at the thought of it. How could he marry someone like you? His name and status that he's worked so hard for would be tainted. Because who could ever love a woman like you? He had the audacity to roll his eyes, "You were entertainment, to bring customers in," someone pretty enough to keep company around.

"Everything, Tom, everything I've been doing, the act, because I am not allowed the luxury of being seen as innocent," after pouring your heart out, he still hadn't believed you, "Don't act like you haven't been seeing other men," he scoffs. You started to laugh at that remark. Had he really been that clueless? Tears stream down both cheeks. You wipe at them, smearing your mascara, "Now that's incredible," a deep grunt is trapped in the back of your throat, "You really think I'm a whore, don't you?" in an almost hushed tone, "Tommy, you were my first and only, do you really not believe me?" nothing felt worse than being betrayed by the one you trust the most, "All I ever wanted was for you to love me," since the beginning you were there. Even when he was mourning Grace you were there to keep him comfort. How foolish of you.

"Now you never told me--"

"I know who you pretend I am, who you want me to be," you roll your eyes, sniffling for a moment, "I'm not like you Tom, I can't pass, I can't change the color of my skin or features-- I will never be the white woman you've always wanted me to be, the kind of woman you'd keep on your arm without feeling embarrassed, why can't you just accept that?" a faint pause, "You told me...you told me she wasn't your type," barely a whisper, "Was everything a lie?" when he doesn't say anything, it was the only answer you needed. At that moment you snapped, "Please! Look at me!" you smack his arm, "Tommy!" when he does you're given only a cold stare.

Of course, it was never going to be someone like you. There are tears brimming your eyes again. It hurts, knowing that you will always be second best. Always an option but never the first, "At first I was confused, your infatuation with Grace didn't make sense, and now I see that it never mattered who she was," your breath hitches for a moment, "You were always going to choose someone like her..." now rambling about the obvious, "Prettier, blonder...whiter," you taunt.

Each word felt like venom on your tongue. You should've been used to the poison by now, "You don't know how long it took for me to trust a man again, after the pain I've been through--women like me, Tom, we don't have pretty blue eyes that get us what we want, not without a price," that remark made your skin crawl, "Always the seductress, never seen as pure," a dark chuckle erupts, taking up all sound from the bar. Tommy only stares back at you, with that same cold expression. You lean against the counter, looking down at the wood before returning to glance at him, "Did you ever love me?"

If there's one thing about Tommy, is that he would never lie to you, "No," a short, simple answer. You give him a soft, faint smile. Saddened by the loss but also relieved that you were free at last, "Thank you," with that you left, never returning to the Garrison again.

[wintfleur]

𓈒  ୭ৎ   ˖˙  ᰋ  ── ALRIGHTY APHRODITE

aka gwen's profile

au masterlist - everything for the AU is under #📷 ͡ ꒱ GwenCaufield

ᡣ𐭩 BASICS ! 

name: Gwendolyn Caufield 

nicknames:

gwen (everyone)

wendy (luke)

winnie (juraj)

winnie the pooh (cole) 

lyn (parents) 

dolly (jack, trevor and alex) 

birthday and zodiac: october 31st 2004, scorpio 

location:

mosinee, wisconsin (former)

montreal, quebec (currently) 

ᡣ𐭩 ABOUT ! 

personality: gwen is more on the quiet side in general, more reserved and calmer, especially around new people. But when she gets more comfortable, she's a lot like Cole, can be a little loud, playful, silly, teasing and sarcastic. She’s a really sweet girl but she's just not as expressive as others. She’s really good at keeping in her emotions, so it's rare to really see her angry. She has an infectious laugh and is honestly quite the nerd. She enjoys spending time with her friends and family but likes to be alone as well. She's an introvert. 

good traits: hard-working, passionate, trustful and reliable, a good listener, warm-hearted 

bad traits: her determination can turn into stubbornness, brutally honest, scared of commitment in relationships, 

quirks: lip biting, being fidgety, doodling on anything, getting lost in her thoughts, rambling when she's nervous 

likes: photography, horror movies, drawing, thunderstorms, reading, anything autumn, chapstick, jeans, halloween obviously, steve harrington, the canucks, music, the cinema, napping, sweaters, lockets, smiski’s, lollipops, her guitars 

dislikes: hot weather, driving, fireworks, the smell of grapefruit, wearing socks in bed, stand up comedy, doing the dishes, being compared to her brothers, rude fans, sad juraj, 

hobbies: drawing, pottery, journaling, scrapbooking, ballet, singing, playing the guitar and piano 

fears: heights, dying alone, being stuck in tight spaces, loud noises 

strengths: creative, attention to detail, determined, organized 

weaknesses: talking about her feelings, self critical, perfectionism, 

languages spoken: english (fluent) french (70%) slovak (20%) 

occupation/profession: photographer for the montreal canadiens nhl team  

ᡣ𐭩 RELATIONSHIPS ! 

parents:

paul caufield 

kelly caufield 

sibling(s): 

brock caufield 

cole caufield 

best friends: luke hughes, arber xhekaj, lily dao, mark estapa 

friends: kaiden guhle, the rest of the habs team, trevor zegras, jack hughes, quinn hughes, alex turcotte, tate mcrae + more 

love interest: juraj slafkovský

pet(s): none at the moment but she really wants a cat 

ᡣ𐭩 MORE ! 

outfits: gwen’s closet mostly has a lot of darker shades but she will wear any color really. She loves wearing jeans, fishnets/different patterned tights, short skirts, leather jackets, corset/vests, hoodies etc. She loves thrift shopping so she has a large range of different clothes, for shoes she mostly wears boots, sneakers etc. Link to her closet is right here. 

accessories: she mostly accessories with her large collection of sunglasses and bags, With her larger/medium bags she likes adding small addons to them, pins, sonny angel/smiski/ keychains, small plushie keychains, photocard holder keychains ect. With her small bags she likes tying ribbon boys to them and her sonny angel/smiski keychains. She will occasionally wear a fake pair of glasses, just to add something different to her outfit. For headwear she mostly wears earmuffs, headbands and beanies. Will sometimes wear scarfs, but really her accessories really just depend on the outfit she's wearing. 

jewelry: she's a big fan of necklaces and rings. For necklaces she loves lockets, she owns many. But the one she wears the most is the one Juraj got her. For rings she wears multiple at a time, mostly four and she's always changing them out. She’s always changing out her earrings and belly button and nose piercing, she likes having something new every once in a while, she gets bored with the same things. 

makeup: gwen doesn't really use a lot of makeup, mostly just her eyelashes, eyeliner, a little bit of eyeshadow and some blush and her lips. she will sometimes wear some highlighter on her nose, cheeks and in the corner of her eyes but not often. 

scars: has a few scars on her feet from the years of her doing ballet, but none othem are really that noticeable. 

sexuality: bisexual 

height: 5’5 

piercing(s): her bellybutton, two in each ear, nose 

tattoo(s): her chest, lower back (wants more) 

face claim: ugh_liza 

ᡣ𐭩 FAVORITES ! 

food(s): cereal, pasta, muffins, pomegranates, cherries, tomato soup, frozen yogurt, honey 

drink(s): hot chocolate, dr pepper, hot and cold tea, water 

color(s): black, reds, oranges, greens, browns 

animal(s): bears, bunnies, bats 

season(s): autumn, winter 

bands and artist: fleetwood mac, wallows, the smiths, florence + the machine, lana del rey, hozier, the strokes, paramore, avril lavigne 

show(s): supernatural, stranger things, survivor, gilmore girls, american horror story, 

movie(s): hocus pocus, halloweentown series, scream series, halloween series, the fear street series, the amazing spider man series 

person: her boyfriend juraj and her platonic soulmate luke hughes 

ᡣ𐭩 FUN FACTS ! 

Gwen’s Nickname from Cole is WInne the Pooh, she absolutely loves anything honey and bears!

She can play the piano and guitar

She was six when she received her first camera, it was a digital one that she got for her birthday and she never let it out of her sight.

Over the years, her parents noticed that her love for photography only got stronger, and the fact that she was really good helped with them deciding on buying her a canon.

Gwen was part of the newspaper for her school, taking pictures and helping write articles.

Gwen did ballet since she was a little girl, only stopping when she was 17 so she could focus more on photography.

Gwen was always the teachers favorite, something her brothers loved to tease her about

She was going to join luke at umich, but decided against it when she got a job offer in montreal

Her best friend is Luke Hughes, they are inseparable.

Her favorite holiday is Halloween, and it's only right since it's also her birthday!

She's very serious about Halloween, loving to dress up, watching horror movies, eating tons of candy, and pumpkin carving.

She loves watching old horror movies, she's a big nerd about it !!

When she gets overwhelmed she becomes very quiet and a little clingy.

She doesn't go anywhere without her headphones, music is her escape.

Quinn bought her a skateboard for her 16th birthday and she almost cried, she loves it so much!

She has a great relationship with the habs team, they all think of her as a little sister . . . besides Juraj of course.

Cole is her safeplace, she knows that no matter what, her big brother has her back!

Gwen's bisexual awakening was thorn from the hex girls! And taylor momsen

She has such a loud and contagious laugh that you can't help but join in.

She's very popular amongst the fans, and she has no clue why, she likes to keep to herself.

She has 3 million followers on TikTok, and Jack and Trevor like to tease her about her being a content creator, she refuses to call herself that.

Poor girl gets teased by Trevor and Jack a lot, but they do love her! She's their little sister they never asked for.

Out of all of Cole's teammates, she would say she's the closest to arber (besides juraj) they have a great friendship! If she's not sitting next to juraj on the plaine she's sitting next to him.

The love of her life is Steve Harrington . . .

Will forever be upset that she couldn't have her teenage years in the 2000’s

She has a wonderful voice but she's only comfortable singing in front of a few people!

She writes her own songs, but they are hidden in one of her journals.

She wants to get more tattoos but she's scared to give cole and brock another heart attack

a big resident evil girly

Has an internal debate everyday in her head if she should dye her hair, she's never done it!

As the youngest sibling, she's overly protected, by like everyone . . .

She's very soft tempered

She lives with Cole, and her room is her favorite place to be!

She loves going on walks

Gwen has trouble making friends, that's why she's so grateful to have luke in her life, he's really helped her get out of her shell and introduce her to his friends.

She loves art, she's excellent at drawing and painting, mostly with watercolors.

Her favorite flowers are tulips.

Juraj is her first boyfriend, she's only dated one other person besides him and that was her first girlfriend luna.

They dated for 2 years, but Gwen broke up with her in Their senior year when she found out that luna was cheating on her,

Poor Gwen was heartbroken after that, and became very distant from the thought of loving another.

Her baby is her record player, and every year Luke and Cole buy her a new record for her birthday.

Her favorite band is Paramore and she's been to 6 concerts!

She has a collection of a ton of different cameras she's gotten over the years!

She can be very sarcastic when she wants to, mostly when she's really tired or when Jack talks too much . . . so always.

Had the biggest and i mean biggest crush on quinn hughes, the only one who knows about it is luke and he loves to tease her about it.

She's the passenger princess . . . she cried during her drivers test, she hates driving.

Always has a book in her bag.

When she gets shy, her face and ears get all red

she’s secretly such a romantic

She’s a big cuddler

Secretly such a yapper omg

Gwen has two instagrams, her public one is @/Gwendolyn_Caudield and her private one is @/winnethepoohbear

Gwen is a sweet girl who's just more on the quiet side, she's fiercely loyal to the people she loves, and is just a great person to be around!

ᡣ𐭩 HER ROOM AESTHETIC ! 

ᡣ𐭩 HER CLOTHES AESTHETIC ! 

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( Gwen my love 🫶🏻 I’m actually in love with her , and I really hope you guys grow to love her as well !! Please feel free to send in as many asks as you want , and please let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist )

°. — taglist ( @lovings4turn @toasttt11 @cixrosie )

©️WINTFLEUR

[rainybubbles]

Silent- Gaz x plus size reader

Summary : Finding a way to relieve the stress of work in a DnD discord, Gaz meets Silent. A player whose microphone is always turned off, using chat only. Maybe he'll find a way to break the silence with them and finds why their mic is off…

(Sorry in advance, English is not my first language, so sorry if it's bad or OOC.)

-TW social anxiety.

-"What a quiet kid you've got there. I wish mine was as calm at home."

-"Oh, you know, they're pretty mature for their age."

-The laughter faded into distant murmurs as I glanced over at the other kids.

-Yelling, chasing, breaking a vase or two—my eyes couldn't look away from them.

-They seemed to inhabit a world entirely different from mine.

-A world where scraping by at month's end, nightly dinners, locking up the house, solo bus rides, laundry routines, and helping siblings with homework simply didn't exist.

-Because, after all, they were just eight years old.

- But so was I…

-So why didn't I have the right to have fun, yell, chat, ask for sweets, act immature, or doodle on walls?

- My hand reached out briefly, hoping for a connection, but my mom's glance quickly reminded me to stay put…

-Being silent seemed to be the key to earning praise and keeping peace.

-So, I stifled that urge, withdrawing into myself, standing alone behind her legs, engulfed in a heavy silence.

____________

"Silent, huh?"

-My gaze drifted slowly to the chat.

-"Yeah, dude, they're usually a regular on Thursdays. Never says a word, their mic's busted, can't afford to fix it," one of the guys responded.

-The tone carried a hint of disdain.

-I felt out of place.

-Yet, I stayed put, unable to leave the server.

-It was the only place where I felt I could express myself.

-Through words, carefully chosen, controlled, retyped, erased, and sculpted to bring a story to life—a space where my imagination, so often overlooked, could finally roam free.

-By chance, I'd become enamored with Dungeons and Dragons.

- The only snag, of course, was the void in my social life.

-So, like figuring out how long it takes to cook broccoli, I scoured the internet.

- Discord groups organized sessions. I panicked at the sound of mics, voices.

- What would they think of me? What should I say? What could I do? And then someone asked if my mic was broken.

- Ever since, I'd stayed that way, and the nickname Silent stuck.

"Hi Silent, then :) I'm Kyle aka Gaz."

-Usually, I ignored introductions.

- People interested me little, their characters were the interesting ones.

-However, Gaz hadn't spoken those words aloud.

- He had written them. It was stupid honestly, but few people wrote back to me, few people responded to me in writing.

-Everything was done orally.

-Suddenly, someone was on my turf, reaching out.

-The campaign proceeded as usual.

-My thoughts were focused on my actions, the dice rolls, and the resulting outcomes.

- Yet occasionally, I let my eyes wander over Gaz's profile.

________________

-"Hello guys, I don't know if I've played with some of you before or not. "

-"Don't worry, we accept everyone. The days are rarely fixed."

-Gaz was back. It was Friday. It was my favorite group, the game master Ylias really managed to transport you.

-"Well, I'll start then-"

-Ylias started rambling, I followed the story when I noticed a notification in the discord. My finger brushed it, and then ignored it.

-What would he think if I clicked now? that I'm a friendless attention-seeker? But if I wait, they'll think I don't care about the campaign?

-So I waited 5 minutes, trying to find the right balance between the two.

-"Hey, Silent. I missed a campaign without you, the others keep on rambling about their athletics, last time I even had a guy mimicking a goblin with his mic, I'm glad to see you back in text :) !!!"

-Pressure flooded over me. What should I reply? A heart? Thanks? Ignore it? Tell him he's nice too?

-"Thanks."

-Too cold, too short. I thought it wrong, I should delete it, rephrase it, add a smiley, make it warmer, he must think I'm a monster.

-"I think we should try opening the door, are you coming with me? I don’t feel like going into the forest with the rest of the team."

-Oh. Usually in campaigns, I go with the flow, I heal and stay in the background. I never-

-"You need a score of 13 for that, folks". Ylias said.

-"Come on, Silent, roll the dice." Gaz replied

-Nervously, my mouse hovered over the virtual dice. With a score of 15 showing, I heard Gaz's laughter.

-"I knew we had to do it! Let’s go, plus with your stealth, impossible to get spotted. "

-"We'll see about that." Ylias replied, laughing.

-And just like that, Gaz made me smile. It was probably one of the worst campaigns, but it was the first where I could finally choose my actions.

__________________________

-"Back again :) ?"

-" Yes."

-Dry, too dry.

-"I was waiting for you. "Gaz replied.

-" Why? "

-"I don’t want to play a campaign without you, you bring me luck."

-" I'm not sure about that. "

-"Yes. I tried a campaign with colleagues, we died blowing up. "

-"Probably because of your colleagues. "

-"Okay, maybe my colleague set fire to a mystery barrel. But it was their first campaign. "

-"You're recruiting? "

-"Introducing them. He's trying to quit smoking, and I thought DnD could occupy his free time."

-I stopped myself.

-Curiosity, imagination, everything overwhelmed me.

-What was it like to be close to colleagues like this, to freely discuss your passions, to laugh…

-"And then?"

-" It's not his thing, he's more into action. "

-"I see. "

-"It's not for everyone. "

-"Is it your thing? "

-"What? "

-"To let off steam? If your colleague needs it, so do you, right?"

-Stupid. Too personal a question. Invasive.

-"Yes. It allows me not to think, to be someone else."

-" Me too."

-" Plus, being an elf is great."

-" You say that because I am one."

-" Maybe. "

-"Thank you. "

-"For? "

-"Talking in chat. People usually ignore me outside of campaigns, they don't respond by text."

-" They ignore the sexiest elf?"

-" There's no image, you don't know what I look like"

-". Hm, exactly! I imagine your elf tall, muscular like the Rock, hair like Gordon Ramsay's, and maybe makeup like Ru Paul's."

-" I'm not sure about the result. "

-"Sexy."

-I snorted at my screen.

-"Ok."

-" How do you imagine me? "

-"Your wizard? "

-"Yes. "

-"With long hair, maybe dreadlocks, white eyes, and a smile. "

-"A smile?"

-" Your voice sounds soothing. "

-"Really? "

-"Yes, sorry, it's weird to say that, I shouldn't have."

-" No. No. I've never been told that, I was just surprised, that's all."

-" I see. "

-"So, a sexy elf and a smiling mage.

-"Sounds like the beginning of a weird porno."

-He responded with a meme.

_________________________

-"So, what do we decide, Silent? Honestly, I don't want to raid the goblin but the vampire to face, I'm sure the score will be high." Gaz asked through his mic

-"It's your choice, not mine."

-"they're right, Gaz, this one's all on you," Ylias said.

-"Can't I even ask for help?"

-"Score of 15 in insight to spot an ally." Ylias announced.

-Gaz scored a 10. No one addressed me throughout the campaign.

________________________

-"Back, Gaz?" someone said.

-Three weeks of radio silence.

-My mind had been looping, wondering if my refusal to break the rules had driven him to find a more interesting group, a more exciting duo.

-But there he stood, his username glowing green.

-"Yeah, I finally got some days off."

-"Good for you, man."

-"So spill, I see some new names and all!"

-Strangely, his voice had become grating to me. I didn't understand why, so before he could reach me, I disconnected.

- Alone in my apartment, I held my knees to my chest.

-Why am I reacting like this? He's entitled to a life, damn it.

-I fet like he...gave me up.

-Shit it's stupid.

-I didn't understand. I tried to calm myself, but the deafening silence of my apartment seemed to slowly engulf me, and before I knew it, I found myself in a new spiral of anxiety.

____________________________

-There were no campaigns. I just liked reading. Reading what had happened. Living vicariously, imagining their voices, their reactions.

-"hey :)"

-The off-campaign tab was blinking.

-He was addressing me, I knew it, I was the only one online with him.

-My thumb grazed the notification, but I ended up entering the chat.

-"hey."

The period was too harsh, too dry.

-"It's been a while! Something happened?"

-"Work." I answered.

-That's a lie.

- But lying is like oxygen, it's easy to come up with excuses to avoid others.

-But harder to let go of it to face the potential risks of social suffocation.

-"I know quite a bit, just got back from mine."

-"At 1 am?"

-"Yep."

-"Cook?"

"Soldier."

-A shiver ran through me. Uniforms had never been positive in my life.

- As the long seconds passed, I hesitated.

-"Not a fan?" Gaz asked.

-"You could say that."

-"Military family?"he asked.

-"yes."

-"I see."

-"Sorry, that's stupid."

-"No, I understand, I mean, we all have red flags." He said.

-"It's not a red flag."

-"You'd been quiet for 5 minutes."

-"With everyone." I answered.

-"Everyone?"

-"I'm not the best at socializing."

-"Really? Yet when you blew up a castle instead of talking to the princess in a campaign, it seemed normal to me." He joked.

-A laugh escaped.

-"And you?" he asked.

-"Me?"

-"Your job?"

-"Proofreader."

-"For books?"

-"Yes, I read, annotate, and correct."

-"No humans."

-"Exactly."

-"Would you like to add me? I'm not super comfortable with everyone seeing this."

-"Why?"

-Stupid. I should have accepted without questioning.

-"To prevent everyone from knowing the secrets of the sexiest elf on the discord."

-Always there to catch my blunders.

-I accepted it even though suddenly there was added pressure, what to say when there's a pause?

_____________

-"A dragon arrives and—"

-My eyes glanced at my notifications. Kyle was in the campaign but—

-"The narration is terrible, isn't it? The guy has been stuck on the dragon for thirty minutes while Théis killed it."

-He was writing to me. Like someone whispering in your ear during class.

-"Yes, Roxanne is a beginner, but she'll get there."

-"So kind."

-"Not really, one day I insulted a game master."

-"Oooh, a gangster among us?"

-"Never, besides, you'd arrest me, wouldn't you?"

-The ellipses seemed to linger.

-"I wouldn't mind."

-Oh.

-"I don't want to end up in a secret government cave."

-"Caves are old school, we have containers now."

-"I don't know if you're joking."

-"Classified."

-"Gaz…"

-"I'll keep the secret, I think you won't have a choice but to be arrested by me someday."

-"… it won't happen."

-"Why?"

-"I haven't committed any crimes."

-"Not even indecent exposure? I thought you were 45 years old and hiding in bushes naked."

-"For that, I'd have to leave my house."

-"Quite the homebody?"

-"You could say."

-"I'm the same, I don't like going out much."

-It's different. I didn't know what to add, so I let him continue the conversation.

-----------------------------

-"Still into your nerd stuff?"

-Gaz looked up at Soap.

-"It's not nerd stuff." Gaz said.

-"Dragon, princess, elf, discord all mixed together. It's nerd stuff. "Ghost replied

-"Dressing up as a skeleton at Hot Topic too, L.t."

-"Ooh, I wouldn't have liked that. "Soap laughed. "But seriously, don't you think about doing it for real? I mean, gathering around a table."

-"They think about it, but we all live in different parts of the world."

-But it would be amazing. Maybe he could even hear Silent's voice, see them…

-"Hm." Johnny said with a smirk

-"What?"

-"It sounds like you have someone in mind."

-"I don't have anyone in mind."

-"Not even an elf you get along with, Garrick?" Ghost retorted

-"I- we're a duo, it

-"It's different."

-"I mean it, we just get along."

-"So if you check discord in a military bar at 11 p.m., it's not to reply to him second by second?"

-"Shut up," Gaz said as the two laughed.

__________________________

-"You're not participating anymore?"

-I ignored his message.

-Three months.

-Three long months of descent, of confinement, of discomfort, of crises.

-Everything was too much.

-Crowds, outside, errands, people.

-My lungs constricted at the thought of meeting someone's gaze. My eyes avoided every contact. My lips were dry from lack of words.

-"I admit that campaigns suck without you," he had written.

-That was two weeks ago.

-"I refused to play with Théo, he wanted to take your place," he had sent.

-That was three months ago.

-"The office GIF."

-Three weeks.

-He… Gaz had never stopped.

-No matter the views, the winds, his boldness didn't stop.

-I was confused.

-Usually, people quit after a month.

-They had better things to do, and I understood. The burden of my social anxiety was mine and shouldn't inconvenience them.

-So why was Gaz standing there carrying this burden unknowingly? Coming back every day, bearing a heavier load…

-"hey."

-Three letters.

-Too short.

-Too dry.

-"Sorry." I continued.

-For what?

-I didn't deserve his forgiveness, I knew it.

-"Glad to see you're back :)" he replied.

-A tear rolled down my cheek.

-"thank you." I replied by text.

-For staying.

-For not asking questions.

-For welcoming me.

______________

-"Sorry, I was at the hospital, do you think I can join the campaign or not?" he had sent.

-My eyebrows raised.

-"No. Wait, you're just out of the hospital and your concern is DnD?"

-"I should really stay by my favorite elf's side."

-"Gaz, seriously, are you okay?"

-"Fractured ribs."

-"Ouch."

-"Broken arm."

-"Wait, what—"

-"And a bullet in the thigh."

-"Wtf."

-"But I'm fine."

-"No."

-"I assure you, I've had worse."

-"And???? You need to rest, not focus on rolling dice to defeat Mindflyers."

-"…but I have no distractions."

-"I'm here."

-"You're in the campaign."

-"No."

-"Wait, what—"

-"I- I saw you were absent so I didn't…join that one."

-"But you only play on that day."

-"I know. But it's not the same without you."

-I didn't know he was currently smiling like an idiot.

-"Thanks, Silent."

-"No worries. Besides, I was also coming out of the hospital."

-"WHAT?! Why didn't you start with that?!"

-"It's ridiculous."

-"No, are you okay?"

-"It's awkward."

-"Oh, serious awkward or-?"

-"No, I'm used to it. I- I took the tram and I couldn't handle it, the crowd was too big, I passed out inconveniencing a hundred people, embarrassing."

-"That's not embarrassing."

-"Yes, I made people late, Gaz."

-"And??? It was for your health."

-"No, I should've known I couldn't handle taking the tram. It's been two years since I couldn't do it, I shouldn't have tried again."

-"Two years?"

-Shit. I said too much.

-"Forget that."

-"Wait, no. You help distract me when I'm on base, I can listen to you in return :)! "

-"There's nothing to say, I don't handle social stuff, that's all."

-"So, your mic, that's it?"

-"Yes."

-"My sister has it too."

-"Has what?"

-"Social anxiety."

-"I see."

-"I know it's different for everyone, but don't give up. Honestly, it's a huge step, right? Taking the tram after two years. Surely you wouldn't succeed all at once, I mean it's like rolling a 20-sided die hoping for a 35."

-I snorted.

-"Nerd."

-"You're a nerd too, Silent."

-"yes, I- I just thought I could succeed, tell myself I could do it."

-"You did it."

-"I passed out."

-"So what? next time can't be worse."

-"Yes, if I have another one."

-"Then you'll have another one, I'm sure you'll manage. Look, I can even show you a tutorial."

-I furrowed my brows and saw a video. A man in an apartment, a cast on one arm, his face cut off from the frame.

-"Quick tutorial for falling on a tram. So lesson 1, stand next to a tall person. We want a good pillow when we fall, so tall people are perfect. Then manage the fall. Fall on the person, not forward. We want to avoid a bloody nose. Especially if there are vampires on the horizon." Gaz said in the video.

-He lay on the ground pretending to fall.

-"Step three, play dead to see sexy firefighters and avoid stares, and step 4 get taken home while flexing in the truck."

-I snorted.

-"Wow, thanks for the tutorial."

-"I know, I know. Passing out pro here."

-"Do you often fall on fridges?"

-"Hm, considering the build of my colleagues, you could say that."

-"Are they as tall and wide as a fridge?"

-"My L.T. yes. With Soap, we even thought he was an android, I mean it's not human to be that built."

-"You look fit too."

-"Oh, a compliment?"

-"Gaz, I-"

-"But yes, honestly, I try to do his routine but I think his genetics play a big part."

-"Shame, no Fridge Gaz then."

-"No, you'll have to settle for Normal Gaz."

-A smile slowly spread across my face.

-"Thanks for the video, it was funny."

-"You're welcome. Plus, if I can flex with my favorite elf."

-"I'm not an elf."

-"Nothing proves me wrong."

-"Gaaaaaazzzz"

____________________________

-"Who are you posing for? "

-"No one."

-" So shirtless, sunlight, flexed arms for no one? Damn, don't tell me it's for your mom. "

-"SOAP!"

-" I'm just asking, man."

-" It's for Silent. "

-"Oh, your magical voiceless elf."

-" It's not— "

-"Yes, yes, not a magical elf, I know, no need to give me another DnD lecture."

-Gaz sighed.

-His selfie was good.

-Shirtless, in the sand, sun rising.

-He looked good.

-But he was nervous.

-What if it was too much?

-After all, this little game of sending each other sunrises or sunsets had started by chance.

-Silent had told him the view was beautiful and sent him a sunset from their window.

-Gaz replied with one from Las Almas, and eventually whenever he went to a new country, he would send a photo.

-But now… maybe it was too much?

-Sending his face.

-Price would kill him.

-But he wanted to progress the relationship.

-Maybe his face could appeal to Silent, they would send him a voice note or even a selfie back?

-"Is this too much? "

-"Hm? "Soap asked confused.

-"This photo, is it too much? "

-"For a thirst trap?"

-" To say hello."

-" It depends on the hello. "

-"Hello as in "I'm showing you my face for the first time." "

-"Oh, maybe. I thought it was a "hello, did you sleep well because look what I could bring to your bed" kind of thing. …But if I received this photo, I'd be happy. "

-"Soap. "

-"I mean, man, you're handsome."

-" Soap. "

-"Plus, who would say no to your abs? "

-"No need to- you know what, I'll send it. "

-"Also, you—"

-Gaz ignored him and sent it.

-Damn, he hoped everything would be fine.

________________________

-Beautiful.

-Too beautiful.

-My eyes scanned that smile not knowing what to do.

- How could someone like that end up playing DnD?

-I closed the conversation.

-I am…. Out of his league.

-So much.

-I could barely bring myself to look at my mirror.

-I knew what I would see there.

- My rolls, my thighs, my stretch marks, my horrible hair, this disproportionate face.

-I'm not ugly.

- But I'm not…I'm not like him

-. I'm the second choice, I'm aware of that.

-I don't get free compliments.

- Nobody turns back to look at me. I'm just…there.

-And him.

- He seemed so radiant, so kind. Damn, I wasted his time.

__________________________

-"So? " Soap asked

-"It's been two weeks with no response."

-" Ouch. "

-"It's not— Sometimes it happens, I think they are doubting."

-" Doubting what? "

-"Themselves. They…before every message, they take 5 minutes to rewrite it, every syllable is thought out and then I send this out of nowhere, I didn't handle it well."

-" You couldn't have known, Kyle. "

-"Yes. YES, I could and I messed up. They told me about their anxiety and then I send them a half-naked photo when I've never even heard their voice. "

-"Try to talk to them then. hmph."

_____________________

-"hey."

-My eyes hesitated.

-"hey." I finally replied

-" For the selfie, I can explain. "

-"No, I- it's not your fault."

-" Yes, honestly, I screwed up" he texted back

-". No, I've been looping again. "

-"You- "

-"seeing you, it was…good, really, but too good." I answered.

-" Too good?"

-"I feel- Illegitimate to talk to you. "

-"what- "

-"You're so- beautiful, and smiling and nice, and the only thing I do is disappear for days and turn up out of the blue. I-"

-" And it's okay, we talked about it." he said.

-" But you deserve better as friends."

-" I decide what I deserve, Silent. And no one beats you. "

-"…I- I don't know what to say. "

-"Send me your sunset :) I haven't had mine."

-Damn. A tear rolled down and I took my phone and sent my sunset. How can someone be so adorable?

-"Perfect." he replied

_________________

-He had continued to send his face on the sunsets. It was stupid, but I waited every time he could and I rewatched them.

-However, it had been three months of silence. I wasn't worried, he was probably on a mission somewhere.

-By a stroke of courage, I had put my phone down to take a photo with the sunset.

-He wouldn't see it. I would delete it.

-But for a moment, I felt beautiful. The sunlight on me warmed me, my outfit was cute, my curves were beautiful.

-I sent it. I would delete it tomorrow. After all, Kyle had said it could last four months.

___________

-"Hey, everything alright, mate?"

-"They're amazing."

-"Lasswell or tony ? For Lasswell of course, why do you think her wife is—"

-"Look."

-Soap raised an eyebrow and glanced at Kyle's phone.

-"Oh, oh."

-Kyle couldn't tear his eyes away from his screen

-. During the mission return, he had picked up his phone and seen a notification. Clicking out of habit, he saw it.

-their smile, their hair, their body. My god.

-"Lucky bastard." Soap said.

-They were perfect. And their belly, their hips, everything was beautiful. Kyle had always preferred curvy people, it was a fact.

-Sure, he had imagined that silently they could be one, but the fact that it was true… It filled his heart with joy.

-"They… damn. "he murmured, zooming in on every detail.

-Mole or freckle, he observed every pixel.

_____________________

-"So the elf wasn't the only one sexy." he texted.

-I raised an eyebrow at the notification as I woke up.

-"Hm?"

-"The photo. "he replied.

-Oh fuck.

-"You saw it?"

-"Yes, I shouldn't have?"

-"I thought of deleting it before, I—"

-"Oh."

-"But did you like it?"

-"Yes. you— I— honestly, I can't stop looking at it. you look radiant."

-He was lying. -No?

-"And that outfit is amazing on you, really."

-It hugs everything, why… why is he complimenting that?

-Usually, people say "those jeans make you look thinner than you are" "you look better in loose clothes" "hide your rolls".

-"Thank you."

-" I have to admit I'm so relieved. I mean if you ended up being a 40-year-old, I wouldn't have been so confident I think."

-"Oh really, wrinkles and gray hair aren't your thing?"

-"No, I'm more into curves and people my age."

-"Damn, I was about to confess that I was 70 years old". I joked.

-"I can make exceptions, but only for elves."

-"I'm lucky then."

-"Very. I— I hope to have more, or occasionally."

-"Of?"

-"Photos of you, it's more beautiful than a sunset."

"-oh."

-A warmth spread to my cheeks, a smile settling in.

-"ok."

-"ok?"

-"Okay."

___________________

-"Do you think I'll hear your voice someday?"

-It was late, or early for him and late for me.

-"I don't know."

-showing my face in a photo…

-I could control that, take back the photo, delete it, edit it. But talking…

-Talking is taking up space.

-"I imagine it smooth."

-"My voice?"

-"Hm, like a stream, it rocks slowly."

-"I might have a smoker's voice."

-"That would suit you too."

-"Maybe one day then."

-"I'm looking forward to that."

_____________________

-Those were the last words sent from him.

-No more contact.

-His absence wasn't due to missions, he had confessed to me that he was off the day before.

-So he had decided to stop.

-I tried to find excuses, before accepting the reality of it.

-Days passed and I hoped he would come back.

-Maybe he was like me, needing time to recover.

-Maybe he was hurt.

-Everything was silent.

-When four months had finally passed, I understood.

-He had grown tired of the silence. I held back a sob and closed the discussion.

-A stab wound would have been better I think.

-To ease the constant pain and intense questions in my mind.

-What had I done wrong? Was I too much? Did I ask the wrong question? Should I have kept quiet?

-Everything was spinning and I finally closed the app. damn.

_____________________________

-My feet led me to the publishing house.

-Today I had to make the final corrections for Madame Lasswell before her vacation with her wife Kate.

-Hesitant, I knocked on her door.

-An "enter" was heard and I entered the already crowded room.

- A mustached man in a beanie, a masked man, a mullet, Kate, and Gaz were watching me.

-My eyes betrayed my surprise at his presence. What was he doing here? Why now? How should I react?

-"Y/n, sorry for the crowd. I guess you have it."

-"Yes ma'am."

-My voice barely above a whisper was usual for Jocelyn. I handed her the manuscripts.

-"We're going to drink at the bar downstairs, do you want to come?"

-Come? To a crowded place, surrounded by drunk people, constant noise, blinding lights with the icing on the cake being a guy who blew me off for the year?

-"No, I'm busy tonight, sorry."

-"No problem."

-Slowly my heels turned, I took the elevator but I heard footsteps. Kyle was with me.

-"I was on a mission."

-"hm."

-"I know I told you no, but he… there were quite a few problems and I had to leave, I didn't have time to warn you, it dragged on, Ghost broke my phone by sitting on it with his stupid hard ass, and we just got back from the airport actually. Lasswell, Kate finally— she works with us so that's why I'm here"

-A silence stretched, he took a breath.

-"you didn't have to explain… I mean after the word mission, I understood I was wrong."

-"I wanted to be clear."

-"I should have asked and sent you messages."

-"No, it's okay, it must have seemed suspicious. I ask for your voice, you say no, and I disappear. The conclusion was logical."

-"but it wasn't the right one."

-"It's okay, we're here, aren't we?"

-"yes."

-The elevator rang, the door opened. Hesitant, I watched him.

-"I love it." -"hm?"

-"your voice."

-"Oh."

-"I… you're really busy tonight or…"

-"No, I just don't like…"

-"The crowd."he guessed

-"Hm."

-"I— I can invite you for dinner? At my place, we'll grab takeout, no crowds, no one to see us."

-"That sounds like the pitch of a serial killer."

-He widened his eyes. I snorted.

-"Okay, you got me." he chuckled.

-" At your place sounds good. Better than a restaurant." I admitted.

-"Cool, so…"

-"Shall we go then, yes". I murmured as he finally released the elevator button and we stepped out of the elevator.

_________________

-At his place, everything was calm.

-Not me.

-How should I stand? Too close? Too far? What to talk about? And what if I'm boring in the end? What to order? Does he like seafood or is he allergic? My eyes focused on every detail and…

-Everything's fine.

-His hand on mine, he took the initiative for the restaurant to order, asking me my preferences, and we waited for the delivery guy.

-Slowly, he asked questions about my work. I mastered it.

-And slowly everything unfolded naturally.

-Sitting on his couch, his hand not letting go of mine, he drew circles with his thumb while talking.

-I liked that. In groups, I liked… listening.

-People like to talk about themselves and I like listening to that, not participating, and Gaz understood that in such an impressive way.

-Occasionally, he asked questions in return, gauging my desire to speak, I answered and this back and forth held until the food arrived.

-Maybe everything would turn out for the best.

-Standing in front of his door, I didn't know what to add to this evening.

-A not-so-stranger, three years of virtual chat and now I was unable to figure out the right goodbye on his doorstep.

-Hesitant, we observed each other.

-"I hope we'll do this again."

-"Yes. "I replied.

-He stepped forward.

-I remained still, his face close to mine. -Kiss? Cheek? Goodbye? Whisper? -Which action would he choose? -I wished for a dice to decide, a title, or a "Gaz approves".

-"May I?"

-Oh. -I nodded. -His hands on my hips, he placed a brief kiss on my lips. -"I'm glad we managed to break the silence." -"me too."

-Perhaps, after all, I wouldn't return to my solitary silence tonight. His hands guiding me back to his apartment and the door closing behind us.

-I could easily guess that a die had just been thrown for a long evening and we both seemed to have the right score.

If you want more my COD Masterlist

[updownlately]

make me yours my love (cause you’re nobody to me, yet somebody to me)

| alessia russo x reader | fluff (tooth-rotting fluff) | 4.5k | a/n: heard a song from another language, got obsessed with it, translated it to english, and wrote a fic. ended up losing the plot half way through and bs-ed the rest over the course of a week. anyways, i hate it, here you go.

~~~

You had never thought you’d leave North America. It was where you grew up. Where you’d had your best and worst times. It was home.

And when you had moved to Seattle from Vancouver to join the OL Reign, you thought that playing in the NWSL would be your greatest achievement, never expecting anything outrageous to occur, never daring to entertain the idea that you would ever venture any farther away from home. Thus, you clearly didn’t account for your hard work to actually pay off and for you to attract the attention of European clubs with the likes of Manchester City, Aston Villa, or Manchester United.

Even with your hesitance on leaving the continent, you had accepted United's offer almost as soon as it had come through, only waiting to double check with Sue and Megan on what their thoughts were. Of course the two women you saw as parental figures had freaked out on your behalf. They didn’t need to say it verbally but with the way they supported you as you virtually signed the contract and got ready to move showed you how incredibly proud they were of you for not only continuing to rise to a higher level in your career, but for pushing yourself out of your comfort zone.

But when the offer to extend your single year contract into a three year came, however, it wasn’t Sue, Megan, or anyone else back home who played a role in your decision. Surprisingly, or unsurprisingly as some of the training staff would say, it was your United teammates that unknowingly convinced you to stay.

In the single year you had spent with them, they had welcomed you with open arms, taking you in as one of their own. 

Zelem and Mary had become your unofficial team moms, making sure you never got into too much trouble whilst Tooney, Millie, Leah, and the other girls had practically become your sisters. And of course, you had Alessia. Sweet, clumsy, back heel queen Alessia had become one of your closest friends in the new city, her being one of the only few people your introverted self had felt fully comfortable around.

You never understood why or how you were able to so quickly feel so relaxed around the tall girl, you typically being quite shy and reserved with new people, but you definitely weren’t complaining.

Moving countries, much less continents, was never easy, but with Alessia beside you since day one, it had never been too difficult.

Since the day that you had awkwardly waved hi to the United girls and attended your first official WSL practice, Alessia hadn’t left your side once. In fact, within the first few weeks of you being in England, the rest of the girls had established that wherever Alessia was, you were and vice versa, one rarely being found without the other.

Through the homesickness, loneliness, anxiety, and at one point, even depression, she had been there next to you. Be it picking you up and dropping you off from practice, bringing over home cooked meals, or tours around the city, she’d been your rock as you struggled but finally adjusted to being alone again. 

And when city tours turned into trying new restaurants together and her dropping off home cooked meals led to bi-weekly movie nights with Alessia’s heavenly dinners or take out, you both never acknowledged how much you cared for each other. Really though, you didn’t have to. A blind person could feel the love that you both radiated for each other.

It was spoken through the way Alessia had become less clumsy over the months, with you now there to catch her. To pull her aside before she could crash into a defensive training dummy. To ensure that her laces were tied and she was aware every time the ground was raised or there was a kerb to watch out for.

Alessia told you she cared when she’d hold you tightly against her chest, after every hard game, practice, or just day. The height difference between your 5’3'' and her 5’9'' was near comical but neither of you minded. If anything, in your opinion, it just made the hugs better since you could bury your face in her neck and block out the world for a few minutes. If Alessia minded, she surely didn’t say a word to you. You didn’t know it but if Alessia was completely honest to herself, she truly loved when you’d hug her. She absolutely adored the way you’d hide your face as you’d hug her, you standing on your tiptoes to comfortably rest your head in the crook of her neck, letting only her see you break, trusting her so easily, warming her heart each time.

You’d whisper the depths of your care when you’d let her lean on you during your movie nights, carding your fingers through her hair when you knew she was on the brink of sleep. In the way you’d slowly manoeuvre both yourself and her into a more comfortable position, her often ending up curled up on top of you, not that you minded at all, welcoming her warmth. How you’d ignore the inevitable stiff neck you would always wake up with since you’d always watch movies in the living room. In your eyes, the pain was always going to be worth seeing the blonde hugging you tightly whilst she slept on your chest.

The star striker would whisper her care ever so softly, staying on call with you during the nights where you missed Seattle a bit too much. When she’d bring you your favourite coffee the next morning, knowing that you’d be tired from your mind running the night before. When she’d drive you to practise, putting on your favourite playlists for the fatigue ridden ride, without you so much as having to ask, her knowing you almost as well as she knew herself.

You both had eventually become so close that even Tooney joked that she should move out and retire from being Alessia's best friend now that you were here for the title. You had simply laughed in response, knowing that at the end of the day, at the end of the month, at the end of the season, even though she was just your teammate at United, she was also simply your favourite person in Manchester (and possibly England, and maybe, just maybe, even in the whole world).

You weren’t someone to really believe in love, having had to witness almost every romantic relationship around you crash and burn, save for Binoe (bless them). So when Alessia clumsily toppled into your life, you didn’t expect that she’d make a home in the cracks of your broken heart. You didn’t expect for her to line the streets of your heart with cosy buildings of every delightful colour known to mankind. You didn’t expect for your heart to flutter like a butterfly each time she was near, the euphoria of having her close nearly causing your feet to grow wings, placing you on cloud nine.

She had your heart and you had no idea when she had taken or how she had taken it, but she had. The way her eyes would crinkle as she laughed had wrapped its threads around your soul. The way she’d have to lean down to hug most of her teammates, you included, and she’d never complain, doing so without being asked, restored your faith in the world. The way her smile would rival the warmth and brightness of the morning sun on your worst days had you smiling softly by yourself as you couldn’t help but stare at her, the only star that you would gladly let damage your eyesight.

While to everyone else she was just your teammate and friend, to you she was so much more. She wasn’t yours but she was something to you, somebody to you, and you hoped to god that you’d never lose her.

It’s funny looking back at when you first realised you were in love with the blonde. It had taken you almost half a year to register that you wanted more than a friendly relationship with her. You remember the exact moment so vividly, having replayed it over and over again in your mind as you lay on your bed, gently begging whatever higher deity existed to make your dreams a reality.

You both, as well as the rest of the team, had just finished a gruelling late training session and Alessia had somehow managed to convince you to let her come around so both of you could make pasta from scratch. You were unbearably tired, not having slept well the night before and the request to postpone the plan was on the tip of your tongue. However, you had made the mistake of looking up from your training bag and right into the bright blue eyes of the taller girl just as you were about to say no, and instead, you (embarrassingly easily, might you add) were persuaded to do nothing but hum in agreement to Alessia’s request.

So once she had picked up the necessary ingredients whilst you waited, trying and failing to nap in the car, and you both had made it to your flat, she had begun flitting around your kitchen, already at home in your house.

You were sitting on the counter, banned from helping due to your tiredness, contentedly watching the partially-Italian woman as she stirred the pasta sauce she had made, that the thought of this scene being ever-present for the rest of your life had briefly crossed your mind. However, you had waved it off at that time, blaming the exhaustion in your bones for your delusional feelings. It had worked and you had forgotten about your yearning for a few seconds, until Alessia had switched the stove off, turned to you, and had taken in your drowsy appearance.

Wordlessly, she had bridged the gap of a few feet between you and gently pulled you towards the edge of the island, pushing apart your legs and bringing her arms to gently wrap around your midsection. It was as she slotted herself perfectly in the space she had created, nudging your head to rest comfortably in the crook of her neck, that you inhaled a deep sigh and let yourself relax, sinking into the hug. As your mind finally began to slow down, the circles Alessia was rubbing on your back calming you quickly, the whole situation hit you.

Here you were, in the arms of your best friend, after she had just finished cooking you dinner, and was holding you so gently, reading you like a book, providing you with the comfort you needed to finally rest. If you didn’t know any better, you would say that Alessia was currently peak girlfriend material - hell even possibly wifey material. Tired and relaxed, this time when the thought of being the only one who Alessia would treat so perfectly like this for the rest of her life came across your heart, you let it warm you, indulging in the loveliness of being cared for.

You had known then, that the blonde irrevocably had your heart, and you were helpless to do anything about it. You were nothing but putty in her hands, your fate lying in hers.

From that point on, you had made it your goal to love Alessia the best you could, regardless of whether she loved you back or not.

As days and months went on, you two got even closer, if that was even possible. If you had thought that both of you were close before, the present put the past to incredulous shame. Your morning routine now definitively consisted of picking up Alessia before morning training and other team events and driving the proud ‘passenger princess’, as you liked to call her, to grab breakfast and head to practice, Tooney joining you two once in a blue moon. Bi-weekly movie nights had become weekly occurrences, and her dropping off home cooked meals turned into you both cooking together in your tiny kitchen most nights.

Telling Alessia you had extended your contract had been one of your favourite moments of the postseason. With her due to play for United another two years too (totally not a deciding factor in your renewal at all), the idea of her getting to spend the remainder of her contract playing not only with Tooney, Mary, and many of the other close friends she’d made, but with you as well excited her unfathomably. The blonde hadn’t stopped smiling for a week straight, and you had a feeling that if she had gone even a single day longer than she had, her face would’ve frozen with her blinding smile stuck permanently.

You knew then, you were a goner for her, for that smile, for the comfort she gave you, her hugs that healed you. You knew you’d give her all of you without taking anything in return, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to care either. You’d give her the world if she asked, all it would take for you to do so is her saying the words, no qualms on your end. You knew that be it as a friend or a lover, you wanted to be the cause of her smiles, her laughs at everything stupid, and the reason her eyes would sparkle with joy. You knew that you wanted her, you just didn’t know she wanted you too.

So caught up in your own head, in your own yearning for the taller girl, you never noticed the longing stares or the blush that would coat her cheeks each time you were near. You never questioned why she’d hug you significantly longer than anyone else, even Tooney or her own mother. You completely, almost idiotically obliviously missed the way she’d go out of her way to make you comfortable, how she had made it her priority as much as you had made it to ensure that her smile would stay.

The two of you danced around each other for months without knowing, two threads dangling from the sky, tangling so effortlessly, yet making no move to separate. You two were bound together unknowingly, without a title, without it being something, without a label. You both were each other's nobody’s, the “no-one special”, yet both of you were silently craving to be each other’s somebody. All you needed really was for the other to make you theirs, the pair of you too scared to accidentally overstep and risk losing the other completely.

At the end, it only took the two of you just over a year and a half before the two of you made any move towards dating. 

It was a chilly mid February day. You had gotten injured that morning, hurting your ankle quite severely and Alessia had so graciously offered to crash with you for a few nights to help you out. You had once again, familiarly, found yourself situated by your island, slumped on the counter, painkillers from the hospital coursing you through your veins, as Alessia cooked for you.

While the sight had become more common to you over the past handful of months, it never got old. The way she’d (for once) gracefully move around, opening your cabinets and rummaging through your pantry and fridge with familiarity and ease, in her element, swaying gently to yours and hers shared playlist you had playing on your speaker. The way her hair was tied back yet a few strands always seemed to spill through, framing her face perfectly. How the heat from the stoves had her cheeks tinted, ever so slightly strawberry red. How absolutely breathtakingly gorgeous she looked bathed in the soft golden lighting of your house, a house that turned into a home whenever she was there.

This time, instead of shying away from watching her as you usually would, you let yourself indulge, eyes tracing the way her arms would flex as she chopped the necessary ingredients, as she used the bench scraper to toss everything into the sizzling pan. You admired the way your old oversized hoodie fit her absolutely perfectly, your last name sitting prettily on her back, as if that sweatshirt was meant to be hers.

You’d been so caught up in your unabashed staring that you didn’t realise Alessia had turned to face you, ladle in hand, the other on her hip, a single eyebrow raised in amusement.

“You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?” she teased.

“Definitely did. Something about dinner and it being ready?” You jested, hoping that your obvious guess was at least somewhat close.

“You’re lucky you’re attractive, and half a decent defender…otherwise I wouldn’t be cooking for you y’know.” The way Alessia smirked as your cheeks heated up told you that the striker knew exactly what she was doing, winking at you before laughing and turning around. “Anyways, like I was saying, the doc said you’re probably going to feel really drowsy once the meds wear off, though the pain should definitely be gone. I’m thinking once dinner’s done, we can just go crash in your room, put on a movie or something so I don’t have to carry you around when you knock out? I’m clumsy enough on my own, I don’t need to be holding another person to test it,” she continued.

“Good with me. Plus, at least you’re self-aware enough to know that you are a walking Bambi. It’s honestly a miracle that you aren’t constantly wrapped in bubble wrap at this point.”

“Okay just for that comment, I’m picking the movie and I’m not giving you my hoodie.”

“That’s not fair, I’m drugged up right now. If anything, that’s abuse. You’re torturing a helpless individual,” you mumble as you lay your head on the cool surface of the island.

“Definitely torturing you by cooking you supper and not giving you my hoodie… and as I let you rest since you’re injured and doped up, right?” You could only groan in response to her logic, pouting at not being able to come up with a response.

As Alessia continued to move around your kitchen, finishing up on dinner and plating the food, you went back to observing her. You studied the way she tried the stir fry, taking a bite before scrunching her face adorably and adding more ingredients to fix whatever she thought was lacking. You watched her as she finally decided everything was ready, as she sweetly plated food for you first, handing it to you, before doing so for herself. You smiled, fascinated with the way her body moved as grabbed waters for the both of you, entranced by the ease in her movement. 

You were distracted throughout the whole dinner, mumbling responses, missing questions. You blamed it on the medications and fatigue when the forward beside you asked if you were okay, but in actuality your mind couldn’t help but constantly wander to imagining what it would be like if this was your life. If dinners with Alessia could be your future. If movie nights in your bed, you in her hoodie could be a regular occurrence. You knew you’d thought it before, the ideas were nothing new to you, but you had never craved it this bad before, never wanted it more than right now. 

You’d been so lost in your thoughts you hadn’t noticed Alessia grabbing your dishes or her own, nor her loading the dishwasher. It was only when she had stepped in front of you that you snapped out of your reverie. 

“You sure you’re okay? You seem really out of it…you know I’ve got you right?”

When you fail to meet her eyes immediately, she cradles your face in her hands, one on either side of your jaw, gently tilting your head back to meet her eyes. Her worried eyes scan your face and then the rest of your body, trying to pinpoint something, anything that could have been the cause of your dip in mood.

“Seriously, what’s going on? You were fine just a little while ago. Is it your ankle? Is the pain back? The doctor said the medication would wear off around midnight but if it’s wearing off right now we can call the hospi-”

Shaking your head amusedly at her worried rambling, you cut her off before she forgot how to breathe. “Less I’m fine.”

“Bull. You haven’t said more than 5 words ever since I asked about watching a movie. Oh my gosh, is this about how I said I’m picking the movie? ‘Cause if so, you can totally pick, I swear. I was just teasing. And… and of course you can have my hoodie too. I promise I was just joking. I didn’t mean t-”

“Alessia,” you stated firmly, a slight frown returning to your face when it was her who now couldn’t look at you.

Sensing her anxiety, you reach out for the blonde, hands finding home on her hips, squeezing gently, just enough to get her to finally stop scanning your body for injuries and instead look at you.

“I’m fine, I promise. Just been thinking, that’s all.”

“About? What’s got you so distracted? If it’s the injury, we both know you’ll be back in no time. I don’t mind sticking around to help around while you’re recovering. I’d be happy to help you know? I don’t mind. Plus-”

“Less, it’s not the injury. I don’t care about the recovery. I’ve already accepted that I won’t be playing for a few weeks. Stop worrying, okay? It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal, yeah right…” she scoffs, her hands moving to your shoulders. “Are you actually not going to tell me what’s going on? What’s bothering you? Was it something I did? Is that why you’re not telling me? If I messed up I’ll fix it okay? I'd rather fix it than lose you. Please. Please tell me what’s going on so I can fix it.”

It was in the next few moments that you contemplated whether it would be worth it. Whether potentially destroying your friendship with the blonde that you’ve been in love with since you met her over a year and half ago would be worth the risk of telling her and outing yourself. You considered pretending everything was fine, to make up some excuse using your newly acquired injury or something about the fans and the pressure, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t lie to her. You couldn’t be dishonest. Not when you looked up and saw the care and concern etched in her face, wrinkles scattered across, creases from distress that you had caused.

You figured that if anything, if, no when, when she told you she didn’t feel the same, you could take the next few weeks you had off for healing and rehab to get over her. It wouldn’t be so bad right? You could take those three weeks to heal your ankle and your heart, and then you could go back to being Alessia’s best friend again.

“Hey, I promise I won’t judge alright? Whatever it is, it’s safe with me, I swear on football,” came the gentle voice from the girl towering above you.

You waited a second before looking up, taking a deep sigh in, revelling in the peace before the chaos that you knew was going to come after. Looking in her eyes, you audibly swallowed, before closing your own.

“I’m in love with you. Have been for ages now, and it’s killing me. It’s killing me to see you in my kitchen, at my house, making it a home. It’s killing me to have you cuddle into me when I know I can’t pull you closer at every chance. It’s physically breaking me when I can’t walk up to you in my kitchen and kiss you to thank you for cooking for me, for taking care of me. It’s hurting me when I know that there’s probably going to come a day where you find someone else and I’m left here with your ghost. It terrifies me that I’m nobody to you but you’re somebody to me.” Your voice cracks in the last sentence and you pray to whatever God existed that she couldn’t hear your heart quietly cracking too.

When a minute passes in complete silence, and then another, you dare to open your eyes. Taking a shaky breath in, you don’t know what to make of the sight in front of you. There, Alessia stands, in all her glory, your hands still on her hips, her head tilted back, eyes glazed over, on the verge of tears.

Your heart’s breaking further with each second that passes and you mentally prepare yourself for the rejection that’s incoming.

“Please say something. Please…”

A beat passes. Then two, before Alessia finally looks back down at you, a lone tear falling from her eyes, one that she quickly wipes away, a smile on her face. “Took you long enough to catch up.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. The possibility of your dreams becoming a reality never seemed plausible to you. “Less, don't play. Please,” you beg.

“You were never nobody to me idiot. You weren’t ever nothing to me. You’ve been somebody to me since I met you y’know? You’ve had my heart since you walked onto the training pitch, looking like a lost kid.” 

“Honest?” You asked, just to make sure you weren’t hearing things, that she actually liked you back, that you weren’t dreaming. When Alessia nodded in return, you couldn’t help but smile, your grin stretching from ear to ear.

Wiping the few tears that had made their way down your face, you moved your hands to wrap around the other girl, pulling her close to you, hugging her tightly. You tucked your head into the chest, her arms wrapping around your neck, your beaming smile hidden in the cloth of her sweatshirt. 

“Let me make you mine? Go on a date with me?” The blonde quietly asked, kissing the top of your head.

This time, it was your turn to nod. You did so energetically, practically vibrating with happiness, twin grins adorning both yours and Alessia’s face. 

You couldn’t ever fathom the idea of leaving Canada as a child, yet now, all grown up, on your own, you’d never been more glad you had left. That you had allowed yourself the opportunity to find a new home, one that you found here, in the arms of Alessia Russo.

You’d spent months thinking you weren’t anybody to her, and now? Now you knew you were somebody to her. That you weren’t alone this whole time. That she wanted to make you hers all along.

[cloudofbutterflies92]

OC Speech Mannerisms

Tagged by @lilywatt @socially-awkward-skeleton @inafieldofdaisies and @g0dspeeed , thank you 💋💚

NO. OF SPOKEN LANGUAGES:1/2/3+ (English, Italian, Russian, Ukrainian, German, Spanish, Arab, French, Japanese and sign language)

TONE OF VOICE: high / average / deep (I suggest you listen to Angell's voice from Path of Nowhere to get an idea of Eden's voice)

ACCENT: yes/no (South London accent)

DEMEANOR: confident/shy / approachable / hostile / other (my girl must be above all confident otherwise the enemies can use her weak points)

POSTURE: slumped / straight / stiff / relaxed

HABITS: head tilting / swaying/fidgeting / stuttering/ gesturing / arm crossing / strokes chin / er, um, or other interjections / plays with hair or clothing / hands at hips / inconsistent eye contact / maintains eye contact / frequent pausing / stands close / stands at a distance

COMPLEXITY

VOCABULARY:⚫⚫⚫⚫⚫

EMOTION:⚫⚫⚫⚫

SENTENCE STRUCTURE:⚫⚫⚫⚪⚪

PROFANITY

FREQUENCY:⚫⚫⚫⚪⚪

CREATIVITY (in regards to profanity):⚫⚫⚫⚫⚪

BOLD ALL THAT APPLY: arse. ass. asshole. bastard. bitch. bloody.bugger. bollocks. chicken shit. crap. cunt. dick. frick. fuck. horseshit. motherfucker. piss. prick. screw. shit. shitass. son of a bitch. twat. wanker. pussy

THIS OR THAT

straightforward or cryptic? (if she has to say something to your face she won't hold it back) / finding the right word or using the first word that comes to mind? / masculinity / neutrality / or femininity? (Elegant femininity is the right word?)/ formalities or with abrasiveness?(Both, depending on the situation)/ praise or equivocation? / frankness or lies? (Depends on the situation but the majority of time the first one)/ excessive or minimal hand gestures?/ name-calling (affectionate) or magnanimity? / friendly or blunt?

IMPORTANT QUESTIONS

DO PEOPLE HAVE A HARD TIME HEARING OR UNDERSTANDING YOUR CHARACTER? - almost always / frequently / rarely / never(Never, she makes herself clear)

DOES YOUR CHARACTER'S POINT COME ACROSS EASILY WHEN THEY SPEAK?- almost always / frequently/ sometimes / rarely / never

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER INITIATE CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER BE THE ONE TO END CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER USE 'WHOM' IN A SENTENCE? - yes / no / only ironically

YOUR CHARACTER WANTS TO MAKE A COUNTERPOINT. WHAT WORD DO THEY USE? - but / though/ although/ however/ perhaps/mayhaps.

HOW DOES YOUR CHARACTER END CONVERSATIONS? - walk away / ask if that's everything / say that's everything / give a proper goodbye / tell their company they're done here / remain quiet / they don't.

WHAT SOCIAL CLASS WOULD OTHERS ASSUME YOUR CHARACTER BELONGS TO, HEARING THEM SPEAK? - upper / middle/lower.

IN WHAT WAYS DOES THE WAY YOUR CHARACTER SPEAK STAND OUT TO OTHERS? - accent/vocabulary / tone / level / politeness / brusaueness / it doesn't

Tagging: @graveyard-party666 @ghostgirlvii @alypink @chloekistune

@thedeadthree @elligatorrex @himurasama @strangefable @captastra @aceghosts @kikiharinezumi

@katsigian @dickytwister @theelderhazelnut @elderglocks @sweet-samnang @chewbokachoi @yourluckyoswald @moosch @priceseyes

@la-grosse-patate @killerspinal @dani-the-goblin @josephseedismyfather @redacted-scp-antics @milkywayhou @voidika

@valyrra @kaitaiga @chadillacboseman @raresvtm @raresvtm @pricescigar @violetflavia @direwombat @nik-barinova @themotherofhorses @marieke-price

[inafieldofdaisies]

OCs Speech Mannerisms | Tagged by @lilywatt

Sabrina Donovan:

NO. OF SPOKEN LANGUAGES: 1 / 2 / 3 (English, French and Latin - latter thanks to Candy)+

TONE OF VOICE: high / average / deep

ACCENT: yes / no

DEMEANOR: confident / shy / approachable / hostile / other

POSTURE: slumped / straight / stiff / relaxed

HABITS: head tilting / swaying / fidgeting / stuttering / gesturing / worrying her lip / arm crossing / strokes chin / er, um, or other interjections / plays with hair or clothing, earrings / hands at hips / inconsistent eye contact / maintains eye contact / frequent pausing / stands close / stands at a distance

— COMPLEXITY

VOCABULARY: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️

EMOTION: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️

SENTENCE STRUCTURE: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️

— PROFANITY

FREQUENCY: ⚫️⚫️⚪️⚪️⚪️

CREATIVITY (in regards to profanity): ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️

BOLD ALL THAT APPLY: arse. ass. asshole. bastard. bitch. bloody. bugger. bollocks. chicken shit. crap. cunt. dick. frick. fuck. horseshit. motherfucker. piss. prick. screw. shit. shitass. son of a bitch. twat. wanker. pussy.

— THIS OR THAT

straightforward or cryptic? / finding the right word or using the first word that comes to mind? / masculinity / neutrality / or femininity? / formalities or with abrasiveness? / praise or equivocation? / frankness or lies? / excessive or minimal hand gestures? / name-calling (affectionate) or magnanimity? / friendly or blunt?

— IMPORTANT QUESTIONS

DO PEOPLE HAVE A HARD TIME HEARING OR UNDERSTANDING YOUR CHARACTER? - almost always / frequently / rarely / never

DOES YOUR CHARACTER’S POINT COME ACROSS EASILY WHEN THEY SPEAK? - almost always / frequently/ sometimes / rarely / never

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER INITIATE CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / never

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER BE THE ONE TO END CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER USE ‘WHOM’ IN A SENTENCE? - yes / no / only ironically

YOUR CHARACTER WANTS TO MAKE A COUNTERPOINT. WHAT WORD DO THEY USE? - but / though / although / however / perhaps / mayhaps.

HOW DOES YOUR CHARACTER END CONVERSATIONS? - walk away / ask if that’s everything / say that’s everything / give a proper goodbye / tell their company they’re done here / remain quiet / they don’t.

WHAT SOCIAL CLASS WOULD OTHERS ASSUME YOUR CHARACTER BELONGS TO, HEARING THEM SPEAK? - upper (if she's around Candy, that need to fit in with her crowd raises) / middle / lower.

IN WHAT WAYS DOES THE WAY YOUR CHARACTER SPEAK STAND OUT TO OTHERS? - accent / vocabulary / tone / level / politeness / brusqueness / it doesn’t.

Eloise "Lou" Morello:

NO. OF SPOKEN LANGUAGES: 1 / 2 (English and Italian) / 3+

TONE OF VOICE: high / average (tends to get a tad higher when she's upset, which she hates bcs she refuses to appear weak) / deep

ACCENT: yes / no

DEMEANOR: confident / shy / approachable / hostile (i mean, it's a given) / other

POSTURE: slumped / straight / stiff / relaxed

HABITS: head tilting / swaying / fidgeting / stuttering / gesturing (when she's holding a weapon) / arm crossing / strokes chin / er, um, or other interjections / plays with hair or clothing / hands at hips / inconsistent eye contact / maintains eye contact / frequent pausing / stands close / stands at a distance / looms over you like a shadow

— COMPLEXITY

VOCABULARY: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️

EMOTION: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️⚪️

SENTENCE STRUCTURE: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️

— PROFANITY

FREQUENCY: ⚫️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️

CREATIVITY (in regards to profanity): ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️

BOLD ALL THAT APPLY: arse. ass. asshole. bastard. bitch. bloody. bugger. bollocks. chicken shit. crap. cunt. dick. frick. fuck. horseshit. motherfucker. piss. prick. screw. shit. shitass. son of a bitch. twat. wanker. pussy.

— THIS OR THAT

straightforward or cryptic? / finding the right word or using the first word that comes to mind? / masculinity / neutrality / or femininity? / formalities or with abrasiveness? / praise or equivocation? / frankness or lies? / excessive or minimal hand gestures? / name-calling (affectionate) or magnanimity? / friendly or blunt?

— IMPORTANT QUESTIONS

DO PEOPLE HAVE A HARD TIME HEARING OR UNDERSTANDING YOUR CHARACTER? - almost always / frequently / rarely / never

DOES YOUR CHARACTER’S POINT COME ACROSS EASILY WHEN THEY SPEAK?- almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER INITIATE CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER BE THE ONE TO END CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER USE ‘WHOM’ IN A SENTENCE? - yes / no / only ironically

YOUR CHARACTER WANTS TO MAKE A COUNTERPOINT. WHAT WORD DO THEY USE? - but / though / although / however / perhaps / mayhaps.

HOW DOES YOUR CHARACTER END CONVERSATIONS? - walk away (if they're so lucky) -> scares them away from the conversation / ask if that’s everything / say that’s everything / give a proper goodbye / tell their company they’re done here / remain quiet / they don’t.

WHAT SOCIAL CLASS WOULD OTHERS ASSUME YOUR CHARACTER BELONGS TO, HEARING THEM SPEAK? - upper / middle / lower.

IN WHAT WAYS DOES THE WAY YOUR CHARACTER SPEAK STAND OUT TO OTHERS? - accent / vocabulary / tone / level / politeness / brusqueness / it doesn’t.

Calahan Hartley:

NO. OF SPOKEN LANGUAGES: 1 / 2 (English and French) / 3+

TONE OF VOICE: high / average / deep

ACCENT: yes / no

DEMEANOR: confident / shy / approachable / hostile / other

POSTURE: slumped / straight / stiff / relaxed

HABITS: head tilting / swaying / fidgeting (with his lighter) / stuttering / gesturing / arm crossing / strokes chin / er, um, or other interjections / plays with hair or clothing / rubs neck / hands at hips / inconsistent eye contact / maintains eye contact / frequent pausing / stands close / stands at a distance

— COMPLEXITY

VOCABULARY: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️

EMOTION: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️

SENTENCE STRUCTURE: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️

— PROFANITY

FREQUENCY: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️

CREATIVITY (in regards to profanity): ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️

BOLD ALL THAT APPLY: arse. ass. asshole. bastard. bitch. bloody. bugger. bollocks. chicken shit. crap. cunt. dick. frick. fuck. horseshit. motherfucker. piss. prick. screw. shit. shitass. son of a bitch. twat. wanker. pussy.

— THIS OR THAT

straightforward or cryptic? / finding the right word or using the first word that comes to mind? / masculinity / neutrality / or femininity? / formalities or with abrasiveness? / praise or equivocation? / frankness or lies? / excessive or minimal hand gestures? / name-calling (affectionate) or magnanimity? / friendly or blunt?

— IMPORTANT QUESTIONS

DO PEOPLE HAVE A HARD TIME HEARING OR UNDERSTANDING YOUR CHARACTER? - almost always / frequently / rarely / never

DOES YOUR CHARACTER’S POINT COME ACROSS EASILY WHEN THEY SPEAK?- almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER INITIATE CONVERSATIONS? - almost always (social butterfly Cal) / frequently / sometimes / never

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER BE THE ONE TO END CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER USE ‘WHOM’ IN A SENTENCE? - yes / no / only ironically

YOUR CHARACTER WANTS TO MAKE A COUNTERPOINT. WHAT WORD DO THEY USE? - but / though / although / however / perhaps / mayhaps.

HOW DOES YOUR CHARACTER END CONVERSATIONS? - walk away (if he's pissed off) / ask if that’s everything / say that’s everything (if he barely tolerates the person) / give a proper goodbye / tell their company they’re done here / remain quiet / they don’t.

WHAT SOCIAL CLASS WOULD OTHERS ASSUME YOUR CHARACTER BELONGS TO, HEARING THEM SPEAK? - upper / middle / lower.

IN WHAT WAYS DOES THE WAY YOUR CHARACTER SPEAK STAND OUT TO OTHERS? - accent / vocabulary / tone / sweet-talk / level / politeness / brusqueness / it doesn’t.

Tagging, @socially-awkward-skeleton @strafethesesinners @strangefable @direwombat @aceghosts

@voidika @theelderhazelnut @raresvtm @dumbassdep @la-grosse-patate

@elligatorrex @simplegenius042 @imogenkol @purplehairsecretlair @cassietrn

@josephslittledeputy @josephseedismyfather @trench-rot @killyourrdarlingss @katsigian

@simonxriley @carlosoliveiraa @neonshrike @captastra @shellibisshe

@cloudofbutterflies92 @wrathfulrook @g0dspeeed @finding-comfort-in-rain

@derelictheretic @justasmolbard and anyone that would like to do the tag <3

[theelderhazelnut]

OC Speech Mannerisms

Tagged by @inafieldofdaisies @imogenkol and @cloudofbutterflies92 <3

NO. OF SPOKEN LANGUAGES: 1 / 2 / 3+ (Persian, English, Turkish, Metalrealmer)

TONE OF VOICE: high / average / deep

ACCENT: yes / no

DEMEANOR: confident / shy / approachable / hostile / other

POSTURE: slumped / straight / stiff / relaxed (something between stiff and relaxed)

HABITS: head tilting / swaying / fidgeting / stuttering / gesturing / arm crossing / strokes chin (or tapping on her metal jaw) / er, um, or other interjections / plays with hair or clothing / hands at hips / inconsistent eye contact / maintains eye contact / frequent pausing / stands close / stands at a distance

-COMPLEXITY

VOCABULARY: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️

EMOTION: ⚫️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️

SENTENCE STRUCTURE: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️

-PROFANITY

FREQUENCY: ⚫️⚫️⚪️⚪️⚪️

CREATIVITY (in regards to profanity): ⚫️⚫️⚪️⚪️⚪️

BOLD ALL THAT APPLY: arse. ass. asshole. bastard. bitch. bloody. bugger. bollocks. chicken shit. crap. cunt. dick. frick. fuck. horseshit. motherfucker. piss. prick. screw. shit. shitass. son of a bitch. twat. wanker. pussy.

-THIS OR THAT

straightforward or cryptic? / finding the right word or using the first word that comes to mind? / masculinity / neutrality / or femininity? / formalities or with abrasiveness? / praise or equivocation? / frankness or lies (it depends on the situation)? / excessive or minimal hand gestures? / name-calling or magnanimity? / friendly or blunt?

-IMPORTANT QUESTIONS

DO PEOPLE HAVE A HARD TIME HEARING OR UNDERSTANDING YOUR CHARACTER? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never. (sometimes her monotonous tone results in unclear pronunciation)

DOES YOUR CHARACTER'S POINT COME ACROSS EASILY WHEN THEY SPEAK? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER INITIATE CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER BE THE ONE TO END CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER USE 'WHOM' IN A SENTENCE? - yes / no / only ironically

YOUR CHARACTER WANTS TO MAKE A COUNTERPOINT. WHAT WORD DO THEY USE? - but / though / although / however / perhaps / mayhaps.

HOW DOES YOUR CHARACTER END CONVERSATIONS? - walk away / ask if that's everything / say that's everything / give a proper goodbye / tell their company they're done here / remain quiet / they don't.

WHAT SOCIAL CLASS WOULD OTHERS ASSUME YOUR CHARACTER BELONGS TO, HEARING THEM SPEAK? - upper / middle / lower.

IN WHAT WAYS DOES THE WAY YOUR CHARACTER SPEAK STAND OUT TO OTHERS? - accent / vocabulary / tone (monotonous with damaged vocal cords) / level / politeness / brusqueness / it doesn't.

No pressure tags: @afraidofrabbits @malicedragoness @valyrra @loverofthewindgod @ninibear3000 @raresvtm @ash-shark @ashrahswings @mediocreshake08 @orbitinytheworld @himurasama @sweet-samnang @chadillacboseman @apepthehero @dirtfullofwork @la-grosse-patate @thedeadthree @carlosoliveiraa @cassietrn @strangefable @aceghosts @voidika @euryalex @captastra @krysta-cross @elderglocks @licoricelump @ghastlyrider @mintspider and you!

[welldonekhushi]

Call of Duty OC: Katya Kovalevskaya 🌹

An updated bio sheet of Katya! The last one felt like it was straight Wiki format style, but doesn't really explain her character properly, I also added some changes to her character as well so, here you go! <3

GENERAL:

Name: Katya

Full name: Yekaterina Viktornovna Kovalevskaya

Codename: "Katyusha"

Alias(es): Lady of Death (by the Red Army), Mama Katya (by her soldiers), Der Russische Leutnant (by the Germans)

Age: 32 years old (Call of Duty: World at War), 58 years old (Call of Duty: Black Ops), 70 years old (Black Ops: Cold War)

Gender: Female

Nationality: Russian

Languages spoken: Russian, German (for intelligence purposes), English

Date of birth: June 15, 1916

Place of Birth: Ural Mountains, Imperial Russia

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Martial Status: Single

Occupation: Senior Lieutenant and Sniper of the Red Army (retires after the events of the first Black Ops)

Status: Active

Rank: Senior Lieutenant (1942), Lieutenant Colonel (1945)

Affiliation: Red Army, CIA (briefly)

Universe: Call of Duty: World at War, Call of Duty: Black Ops, Black Ops: Cold War (alternative AU)

Faceclaim: Anna Chipovskaya

Song: "Katyusha" by Boris Alexandrov

Biography: Yekaterina, commonly known as Katya joins the Red Army for the service of the Soviet Union to avenge her parents death under the hands of German forces. While defending her country amidst the raging Second World War, she faces tremendous amounts of obstacles and barriers in her life which often try to make them as her weakness, but the woman was sworn to take her last breath in achieving one goal with her comrades — and that was liberating Berlin.

AFFILIATIONS:

3rd Shock Army (Red Army)

Sergeant Viktor Reznov [K.I.A]

Private Dimitri Petrenko [K.I.A]

Private Chernov [K.I.A]

Commissar Markhov [fate unknown]

Major General Nikita Dragovich [K.I.A]

Colonel Lev Kravchenko [fate unknown]

CIA (Call of Duty: Black Ops)

Alex Mason

Frank Woods

Jason Hudson

Grigori Weaver

SKILLS AND ABILITIES:

Weapon induced: Scoped Mosin-Nagant, Tokarev (TT-33), PPSh-41, Molotov Cocktail, RGD-33

Fighting style: Hand-to-hand combat, but rarely, since she's more used to being a sniper giving covering fire

Special skills: Is a very experienced sniper, that gave her the infamous name of "Lady of Death", but Katya didn't want to coin such a name for herself when she was only serving her people as a soldier of the frontlines.

Talents: Knows natural remedies, holds a lot of empathy for others, can speak fluent German even if she knows a little bit of it

Shortcomings: Due to the incident, she lost her face partially along with the half-vision of her eye throughout the accident, faces survivors guilt, is a bit mentally depressed but she's able to push those negative thoughts down

PERSONALITY:

Myers-Briggs Type: ISFJ (The Defender)

Is very protective towards her comrades: Ever since she lost her parents, Katya had always been searching for a way to cope up with her loss by taking care of the people she loves and believes in the most. Even if she never married, or birthed a child, she automatically unlocked her motherly instincts by calling her comrades as her "sons and daughters", considering them as her one, found family.

Ruthless, but at times merciful: Katya has shown immense strength and courage in the battlefield as a sniper and a squad leader, haunting the Germans in their own sleep thinking Katya wouldn't kill them and make the mattress they're sleeping on as their deathbed. But also, when Katya wants to show mercy, she'll show it. She thinks there's no use to wasting her own bullets on someone who already decided to surrender to the Red Army.

Emotional: Let it be a soldier dying, or a civilian, she'll ask forgiveness from God that she wasn't able to save an innocent despite having the duty to protect her own people. The incident that killed all of her soldiers left her deeply scarred, and believed she committed a bigger sin for being too naive and careless, and she deserved the impact on her face. It was even worse when Nikita Dragovich killed her teammates again by putting them as test subjects for the Nova 6 experiment that made her grow deranged and bloodthirsty to hunt Dragovich and his lapdog, Kravchenko in a fit of vengeance, until the CIA caught her presence.

Intelligent and observant: Katya is more aware of her surroundings ever since the incident impacted her, which caused her to be very vigilant, and grew her intelligence in the battlefield which made her useful for the Red Army as a sniper and as a squad leader in the infantry.

BACKGROUND STORY

Katya was born around 1916 with her mother Elizaveta Kovalevskaya (neé Petrova) and father, Viktor Kovalevsky. Spending her childhood in the Ural Mountains, she learnt how to snipe at a young age from her father, who was a hunter, the reason why she took her father's skill in the field of sniping.

In 1939, she recruited herself in the Red Army as a sniper, in which her talent gave a huge role and reputation among the soldiers as a source of bravery, courage and inspiration, that gave her the name "Lady of Death". But, Katya on the other hand didn't want to coin such a name for herself when she believes she's only doing it for the protection of her own people.

But, in 1941, when Germany attacked Soviet Russia under "Operation Barbarossa", her village became a victim of the attacks, which ended up killing her family in the process. Broken and enraged, Katya wanted to avenge her parents death by going through missions and eliminating every single enemy who tried to cross the Soviet borders. Her life completely changed when one day she encountered General Heinrich Amsel, who was responsible for the death of her family along with many others, wanted to kill him by her own hands but never succeeded because he evaded before she could get to him.

Furious, the General wanted to eliminate Katya in her path, by luring her into a trap that he was staying at a hotel and could grab her an opportunity to end his life there. But little to her knowledge, it was all a set up, when he used that entire building as a decoy with the explosives attached. His soldiers locked away his teammates, including Katya but she was able to break through it. In a desperate attempt to find her comrades who were still locked inside, it was too late before the explosion could take effect, and blew her out of the building, leaving her drastically injured.

The explosion was the turning point of her life, where it emotionally scarred her and made her regret being a soldier, when she couldn't even protect her own soldiers, who basked into the flames of Amsel's planned explosion. She was taken for medical assistance, which took her a month to recover physically, and mentally. But, that didn't stop Katya from retiring, as her mind still revolved around that one goal — to eliminate General Amsel, and push all the German forces back from invading Russia.

Somewhere around 1942, she was promoted to Senior Lieutenant, and became the squad leader for the 3rd Shock Army, and participated in the Battle of Stalingrad alongside Pvt. Dimitri Petrenko and Sgt. Viktor Reznov. As the General's whereabouts were found, she led her team throughout the warzone and successfully countered Amsel, which led to his untimely death under the hands of Dimitri's sniper rifle. Katya, who held immense pride for the Private for doing something she couldn't, made him along with Reznov and Chernov as her closest comrades.

After the entire battle, in 1945, they finally achieved victory by liberating Berlin by hoisting the Soviet flag on the Reichstag, Katya was now at peace, hoping for a better future after the war's end.

But, somehow.. her life was going to go into a bigger turmoil, when she gets sent to the mission around the Arctic Circle, leading the events of the first Black Ops.

[xstarsmvxz]

𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐌𝐁 ❀

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 .𝟎𝟎𝟎 - 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

𝐞𝟒𝟐 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭! 𝐨𝐜

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ➬ Miles morales, a star student at Brooklyn Visions Academy finds himself infatuated with a certain red headed girl he’s never even spoken to (yet), causing him to have a mental battle whether he should talk to the schools best guitarist and registered ‘cool girl’ and risk embarrassing himself or just absolutely keep to himself and live a regret filled life. Unfortunately for him- the universe decided not to be on his side.

Athena Blake, the schools so called ‘cool girl’ and best guitarist notices a boy she recognises from her calculus and advanced English class staring at her a lot. At first the red headed beauty finds it cute and mostly jokingly makes fun of him for it, rarely sending small smirks and head tilts his way, sometimes having brief conversations. However, when she notices him beginning to always loom around her and seemingly follow her around, she decides to ask him about it.

𝐜𝐰 ➬ one way pining (for now..), Athena being a flirt, light swearing, Miles is lowkey a dork, ooc, he and uncle Aaron are still the prowler!!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ➬ 2.1k

The walls and hardwood floors of the dimly lit theatre room are basically vibrating as the strumming of guitars and booming sound of drums being played can be heard, playing along to the song ‘I hate myself for loving you’ by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts.

People passing the doors of the large theatre stop in their tracks to take a peek or turn their heads towards the noise, some bobbing their heads to the music as others roll their eyes and continue walking to whatever class they have next.

Inside of the theatre room is a small band, two guitarists and one drummer. The three friends are on the stage, a red light illuminating their figures as they play through the loud speakers, grateful that they all have free period.

The lead guitarist, a girl with cherry dyed red hair and popping green eyes finishes the song off, her fingers aching as she throws her head back and strums the final cords.

The girl turns around to face her two friends Ivory and Thomas with a beaming smile on her face, her cherry flavoured lipgloss shining from the light on the stage. Her red hair messily frames her face as she goes to speak but is interrupted by the schools choir teacher followed by a few students walking into the theatre as the door clicks.

The band silently pack up their things, leaving the schools drums on stage as the girl puts her red and black guitar back in its case, placing it in the back rooms before smiling at the choir teacher as the trio walk out of the door.

The door closes with a loud click as the three friends strut down the hallway, squinting their eyes as they try to stop the burning sensation from the schools extremely bright lights.

Ivory turns to her friends, talking about how the choir kids are always interrupting them and cutting their playing time short. Ivory had jet black hair and deep brown eyes, she had dark skin which Athena thought went extremely well with her gold jewellery. She was the bass guitarist of their band.

Thomas immediately agrees with his friend, rolling his eyes as he exaggerates how annoying they are and how bad their singing actually is. Thomas was your basic white boy, except he was very very gay. He had light brown fluffy hair and pretty hazel eyes. He was the bands drummer.

“Speaking of singers, we seriously need one guys, I mean think of how much better our band would be!” Athena speaks up, turning around to face her friends as she walks backwards, her beat up red converse tapping as she walks along the tiled floor.

“She has a point. How many bands don’t have at least four people?” Ivory agrees, tilting her head to face Thomas as she takes her grape flavoured lollipop out of her mouth.

Thomas just stared at her blankly as he thought about his friends thoughts. “Exactly.” Ivory says, putting her lollipop back into her mouth as she tucks her free hand into the pocket of her black zip up hoodie.

Athena let’s out a stifled laugh as she turns back around to walk properly- only to bump into somebody. “Oh! I’m sorry!” She apologises, her face flushed with embarrassment, “I wasn’t really focusing on where I was walking..” she trails off as she picks up the papers that she had caused the boy to drop.

The red headed girl passes the paper back to the boy with an awkward smile, watching as the boy just stares at her with surprise. “You alright there?” She questions, her brows furrowed as she tucks some of her messied hair behind her ear.

“Oh I- um.. yeah, I’m alright” The boy replies, snatching the paper out of the girls hand and muttering a small thank you before he hurries off, nearly tripping over his own feet.

Athena and her two friends watch as the boy speeds off, Ivory and Thomas giggle a bit as they watch the boy however, Athena just stares with furrowed brows, whispering something to herself “weird…”

The trio shrug it off and continue to walk towards their next class, hoping to get there early instead of late like usual. Thomas has social studies so he departs from his friends first, giving the girls a small smile and wave before walking into the already student filled classroom.

“Hey Athena! Hi Ivory!” Comes a voice from beside them, her voice sweet and chirpy. The two friends turn to face the girl, already knowing who it was just from the sound of her voice. “Hey Valentina.” Athena says with a soft smile as Ivory just waves.

Valentina was a kind and lovely girl, she was also well known around the school so she got invited to many social gatherings and parties, that’s kind of how Athena and her friends met the schools sweetheart.

Athena and Ivory continue their walk, walking down some stairs before Athena reaches her calculus class. The girl rolls her eyes at a small joke that ivory made before pushing the doors to her classroom open.

Heads turn as they watch the girl walk through the door, some people giving her smiles and waves as others continue to mind their business. Athena sits at her assigned desk, next to one of Valentina’s friends.

Her name was Isla and her and Athena had become good friends since meeting each other in class. “Hi Athena..” The blonde girl says, smiling at the red headed girl as she does small sketches in her book.

“Hey girl, do you know why literally nobody is here today?” Athena asks as she scans the classroom, placing her books down on the table. Isla shrugs, flipping her book to a fresh page as the teacher walks in before whispering to Athena, “I heard that nobody was going to come today because of the prowler’s attack last night..”

The red haired girl turns to face her friend with a puzzled face. “Why? It’s not like the prowler is going to attack the school, especially in broad daylight.” Athena states, opening her book and grabbing a pen to copy off of the board.

Isla just lets out a small “hm” as she begins to copy the work down, listening to the teachers lecture. The teachers monotone voice in soon silenced as the door opens with a squeak, the hinges practically begging to be replaced.

The boy from earlier walks in, his books in hand as he walks towards a table at the back, awkwardly sitting down with a quiet sigh. Athena stares at the boy as she can hear the teacher let out a groan at the boys tardiness before continuing his lecture. “Hey Isla..” the red haired girl whispers, “what’s that guy’s name?”

Isla turns to face the boy who is now also rushing to copy what’s written on the board. “Him? That’s Miles Morales, he’s super smart.” The blonde girl mumbles before gurning back around to face the board.

“Miles Morales..” Athena mutters to herself, tilting her head before she zones back into what the teacher is saying, her pen gliding along her paper as she continues to write.

❀

Miles Morales. That name has been running through the red haired girls head all day. I mean- he’s cute, shy, but very odd, not at all somebody Athena could see herself with.

The red haired girl now sat in AP English, unbothered to listen to the teachers lecture as she zones out on the boy siting in front of her, staring at his two neat braids at the back of his head. The boy must’ve felt her green eyes burning through him as he slowly turns around, looking at her over his shoulder.

They make eye contact for a solid three seconds before Athena realises that she’s been staring. The girl quickly picks her pencil back up and continues to write, her face flushed red with embarrassment.

Miles does the exact same, flustered and surprised that the girl was even staring at him in the first place. He had been watching her for weeks, well not watching watching her, just noticing her. Noticing that she dyes to roots of her hair red again every few weeks, noticing that she reapplies her cherry flavoured lipgloss on every hour or so, noticing that she wears the same necklace everyday- the silver one with the pretty red star in the middle.

Miles thought she was beautiful, from her looks to her personality. Everybody knew her and spoke of her, his friends would tell him how fun and nice she really is once you get to know her, they would tell him to just shoot his shot and talk to her because it’s not like she would laugh at him for it, or tell everyone.. would she?

Miles had many questions in his mind as he thought about the girl, not even realising that the bell had rung minutes ago until the teacher repeated his name for the third time, telling him that the lesson had ended as she wonders how the dazed boy hadn’t heard her.

The boy carry’s his belongings as he rushes out of the door, his brows furrowed as he hurriedly walks down the hall, wanting to get home as soon as possible to prevent anymore embarrassment for himself.

His wishes are soon cut short as well as his walking as his shoulder bumps into the back of somebody. Athena Blake. The boy lets out a quiet groan, just how unlucky was he today?

The red haired girl turns to face him with furrowed brows until she catches sight of his pretty braids, realising who had just bumped into her. “You sure you’re not doing it on purpose?” She chuckles as she turns to fully face the boy, forgetting about the conversation that she was having with Ivory and Valentina.

“W- what?” Miles’ nervous voice comes out as he awkwardly and apologetically smiles. “Bumping into me, are you sure you’re not doing it on purpose?” The girl repeats, her guitar slung over her back as her hands are occupied with a small knitted handbag and her phone.

“No, no! I didn’t mean to- I didn’t mean to bump into you earlier either.. I.. I just wasn’t-“ The flustered boys speaking was cut short as Athena lets out a loud, obnoxious laugh, causing the few people in the near empty hallway to stare.

“I’m just fucking with you, we’re cool.” The girl says, widely smiling at miles, putting her pretty little tooth gem on display. “Oh.. we’ll still I’m sorry, my bad.” Miles awkwardly apologises with a small smile on his face.

Why was he so nervous around her? He was never nervous. Not even around other girls, not even when talking with strangers and definitely not when he was getting chased by the police as the prowler.

Valentina taps the red haired girls shoulder with a smile on her face as Athena turns around to face her brunette friend. Valentina and Ivory inform Athena that they’re all about to leave to hangout at her house, laughing at her interaction with the boy that they had most definitely been listening to.

Athena puts her phone in the pocket if her hoodie, grasping her knitted bag tighter as she follows her friends out, not before turning her head to face the boy with a smile on her face, “see ya around, Miles..”

The boy just stares at her as she walks, watching the was her hips sway and her plump thighs rub against each other as she lightly jogs to catch up with her friends. He was shocked that she knew his name, knowing damn well that he had never told her.

For the rest of the day Athena’s sweet voice echoed through Miles’ head, even as he showered, even as he ate dinner with his uncle and mom, even as he blared music through his ears, music that reminded him of her. The same sentence would never leave his head,“see ya round, Miles..”

He was done for, completely infatuated with the girl and he knew it, as much as he would deny it to this friends, he knew deep down that they all knew as well. Cute scenarios played in his head from the second he fell asleep to the second he woke up, when those scenarios were replaced by her sweet voice once again.

❀

𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐌.𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

[tsintotwo]

Happy Tom at the Osaka Comic-Con.

Quick recap of the panel: He got there from NY the previous night, dove headfirst into Japanese food first thing (had taco wasabi- literally raw octpus- and chicken neck). His fav ice cream flavor is vanilla ('keep it pure')- without any topping on a cone. One of his fav Sandman dialogues is 'I am hope', his fav Dream-Hob era is Elizabethan (we knew this). To build the Sandman figure, 'you eat nothing and work out like you're about to play Thor'. He would never choose between theatre and TV, and if he were a DJ like Carl was in The Boat That Rocked, he would leave the music to people who understood it better than him and air conversations with people he cares about on why they make the things they make. His birthday is Dec 5, 1985. Why is it different on different websites? No clue, no one ever asked him.

I want to say something. This was a 25 minute panel. On the stage, there were three men on his right, one woman on his left. The men read out fan questions in Japanese, the woman translated them to English. Tom answered. The woman translated it back. The men would then exchange a few words among themselves, and/or have something to say to Tom based on his answer which the woman again translated for Tom.

In all this, Tom was extraordinarily attentive and engaged. Of course he gave fun and/or thoughtful answeres to the questions like he always does. But beyond that- whenever Japanese was being spoken, he looked at the speaker and listened, even though he didn't understand a single word. Tom's most common listening expression is the pinched-lipped pout, and in lots other interviews/cons you can see him listening but not loooking at the person speaking. Here, he made a point of looking at them. He nodded and smiled based on their gestures and expressions. He rarely took his eyes off them or lost focus. I posted a clip of him looking confused earlier- that was one of the one/two times that happened. And once he got the idea of how it was working, if his answers were long, he started pausing in the middle to give the translator a chance to take it by pieces. He made sure she understood what he was saying. He didn't stare into space or look impatient when other people on the stage were having a small convo within themselves.

I actually never spent time looking at celeb things like comic-cons before. So maybe this is the norm, and most of the men and women we see on screen are amazing at these events and just great people in general. I have no context. But I just know as someone who frequently gets lost into her own head even in engaging environments, being this dedicated to a space and situation that can't be made completely inclusive probably wouldn't be possible. My attention would get loose, and/or I would decide it's less awkward if I don't engage when they aren't speaking a language I know. But Tom made it seem easy and smooth for himself.

I love Tom, yeah, we all do, but this sort of stuff just gives me so much respect and appreciation for him as an individual. I know fans like to yassify him based on things like his smol-bean/cinnamon roll energy, and while that's cute, it sometimes has the risk of making a person's image into that of a man-child. He isn't that, though. Shy and (sometimes) awkward as he is, this is a very intelligent man, emotionally and intellectually, and I love to see it come through.

[brooklynbadboys]

A History of Girlsies

After a rise popularity of the 'girlsies' after Newises UK introduced Brooklyn as an all-female group of Newises, I decided to look deeper into the history of newsgirls at the time.

This is only for fun and a way for me to acknowledge the women at the time who until Newsies UK, were rarely given a spotlight in Newsies media.

Late 1800s

In 1868, there were roughly 300 newgirls and 2000 newsboys living in New York, but exact numbers were hard to state as newsies were 'at all hours in all public places’

Prior to mid 1800s, many newsgirls had to dress as boys in order to bypass social prohibitions

There were newsgirls of different backgrounds, education, class and age, but most were age 8-20

Many newsgirls were expert sellers, making names for themselves, having their own territories and gaining devoted customers

Multiple sources state the intelligence of the newsgirls being higher than that of the newsboys, likely having to work more than the newsboys to make the same wage

The media at the time presented newsgirls as pretty, witty and resourceful, whilst the newsgirls described themselves as real people in unfortunate situations

People within society had opposing reports on newsgirls, as some stated them to be stylish, respectable and intelligent, whilst others stated their crudeness, and raggedness and coarseness

There are many more mixed accounts, as others report newsgirls as heroic, behaving far better than the newsboys, respecting the city more and going out of their way to help civilians

The newsgirls were widely disliked as the idea of girls working on the streets was seen as evil and it was believed that the girls would put the newsboys out of business

It was also believed that the girls would be corrupted and lose their innocence and therefore should leave the work to the boys

This led many newgirls to work in less seen areas of the city, as the newsboys ran the city, making their presence known

What was most loved about the newsboys, such as their camaraderie and hardwork, was hated about the newsgirls

The girls often faced injustices and dangers far greater than the boys. Newsgirls as young as eleven were often harassed, robbed by male street workers, abducted and assaulted. This was used in the defence of banning all newsgirls under sixteen

The New York Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children

In the late 1880s, the community disliked the newsgirls so deeply that they wanted to get the girls off the street for good. It was passed that girls under 16 were no longer allowed to sell papers

They disguised this cruelty as an act of kindness to protect the girls and guide them to a life of motherhood and domesticity

The girls listened before one day fighting back, all swarming to the streets

A few years later, another attack on the newsgirls occured due to complaints from newsboys, publishers and patrons

Newsgirls were given warnings, and if they were to return to selling papers, then and their parents would be arrested and punished severely

By the end of the 19th century as few as 12 newsgirls under 16 were left in New York City

This ban extended to the newsboys in 1899, but little consequence was given and enforcement was low, unlike the ban on newsgirls

Newsgirls in New York:

Notable New York Newsgirls

Winnie and Sadie Horn (‘the soubrette newsgirls’)

In the late 1800s, they were two of the most famous newsgirls, working from 3pm to 3am everyday

Winnie was blind in one eye and dressed eccentrically, reporting to have spoken in Shakespearean English. She would scribble quotes from literature, such as the bible and Shakespeare, on her newspapers

Winnies loyal customers ranged from the New York City mayor to Theodore Roosevelt

Winnie was known as ‘winsome Winnie’ and ‘queen of the newsies’

They stated that them and their sisters were ‘born newsgirls’

Winnie was notable and had many mentions in the papers up until her death:

Mary Welter

Marywent to school until she was 13 and wanted to continue, but she had to support her family

She sold papers at twenty-third street ferry and upwards of 10 dollars a week ($328)

She would stay focused on business when and the competing newsboys inevitably began to act up throughout the day, she would take their customers

Newsies the musical

Before Newsies UK, there were no newsgirl characters. Despite claims of characters such as Smalls being women, they were dressed as newsboys and the Smalls Broadway actress, Laurie Veldheer, stated that Smalls is a boy.

Smalls in Newsies OBC:

With characters as old as 17 (Jack Kelly), and newsgirls of over 16 being allowed to work at this time, along with evidence of newsgirls taking part in the strike, there is no reason for newsgirls to have been left out of the story. There are arguments that may be made about Brooklyn being all women and the inaccuracies of this, but I pose to that how accurate is it for the newsies to be singing, dancing, and flying.

Brooklyn in Newsies UK:

A final note: This may seem redundant after titling this post ‘the history of girlsies’, but I feel the need to point it out: ‘Newsies’ isn’t a gendered term. Newsgirls throughout history have referred to themselves as ‘newsies’. There is no need to other newsgirls and separate them from the term. They are newsies and their gender doesn’t change that.

I hope this can shed some light on newsgirls and their history, and why their stories should be heard alongside the retellings of the newsboys.

Sources:

Extra: The history of America’s girl newsies

Backstage at “newsies” with Ben fankhauser and Tommy bracco

“The newsgirl question”: competing frames of progressive era girl newsies

Newsies vs. The World

[jakecockley]

- el niño que creció sin amor -

✧ pairing: namor/k’uk’ulkan x gn!poc!reader

✧ summary: namor visits his mother's grave. in search of comfort, something he did not expect, he heads to you. only in your arms, does he let himself truly breathe.

✧ genre: fluff/soft comfort/bit of angst/sfw

✧ fyi: reader is of ambiguous race (can be defined however you want, but they are a person of color) and they're an artist! they also know yucatec mayan, a little fluent in it, thanks to namor

✧ warnings: a lil sad, other than that ur good

✧ author’s note: it’s kinda weird how I always do fluff, but I just love bringing out the soft side of characters like namor. I haven’t seen much fluff/comfort topic fics abt him. I don’t think I’ll be able to get over him soon ☠️ this obsession will last for monthsss. alsooo english isn't my first language so sorry if u see a few mistakes!

Who was he? 

Was he a man? A god? they wondered, for the first time when they laid eyes on him. 

No man looked the way he did. No ordinary man had those sharp ears that pointed up to the clouds nor those white wings on his ankles that made him fly to the skies themselves.

His visits to their pueblo were a rare occurrence. He never entirely spoke whenever he emerged from the waves in the night and shook the water from his wings. He kept to himself, making his way to his mother’s burial, pushing the large leaves from the trees out of his way. He’d stand there for a while, contemplate the past or murmur a few words in his native tongue. He’d come to let himself think, away from the waves, noise, and duty. He liked to remember all of what he liked to do with his mother: whenever they’d race or play with the sea life, amongst others. He’d remember when his mother would rise to the surface, only to look at the past life she left behind. Her land. Her home. It meant everything to her. So did it to Namor.

He was constantly worrying about his people, how the time they had was running out by the day, and what would happen once the surface world got its hands on what they wanted below. Namor could not allow his kingdom and its people to be discovered. Yet all those thoughts and worriments faded whenever he thought about you, a surface dweller. To his surprise, you were someone he’d come to care for. Maybe if he went to you, he'd feel peace.

With a simple brush to the dirt as a farewell, Namor took off, heading to your home.

- Your home was a simple one. It was a small house just near the coast, away from the city and its bustling noise. You liked the peace here, you didn’t have to worry about the big things anymore, and finally let yourself breathe. 

You loved it, even more, when your lover would arrive at your doorstep, just as he did right now.

Those wings of his always give it away, you thought with a chuckle. His wings sounded like a rattlesnake’s rattle, buzzing, when they flapped. It added to the intimidation he had and you found it fitting, as he was the feathered serpent god to his people. Setting your paintbrush aside, you sauntered over to the door, opening it and finding Namor looking not quite like himself. Before you could speak a word to him, he abruptly wrapped his arms around you, and buried his face between the juncture of your neck and shoulder, unwilling to meet your eyes. Without hesitation, you returned the affection, rubbing a hand on his back soothingly for comfort. 

The two of you walked to your bedroom, no words spoken, not until a minute passed with Namor in your arms, limbs entangled with one another.

Only then did you ask him.

“What’s wrong?” you murmured to him, playing with his dark hair as he laid his head against your chest. He felt warm against your body, surprising for a man always submerged in water. 

He’s silent for a moment. 

You looked at him, staring into those keen, dark eyes you've admired for so long. Your hand caressed the side of his face lovingly, the thumb brushing his cheek. 

You hummed, a small, sweet smile forming on your lips when you noticed Namor careening into your touch. Taking advantage of the comfort he was in, you slowly leaned down and planted a kiss on his forehead. 

Namor's breath softly hitched, eyes cast down, lashes barely grazing his skin. He felt your forehead touch his own when you scooched downward.

He hoped to the gods that you couldn't hear the way his heart thundered against his chest.

You weren’t the best comforter, but for him, you’d try. You whispered softly to him.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, in yakunaj.” 

His breathing stilled, like he was alarmed of something, but in a second it passed. His eyes looked up to your own.

He smelled like the ocean and its salt, a muskiness to him that you grew fond of whenever he came. Your man of the sea.

“I visited my mother’s burial place. I thought going to her would help me think,” he told you, gaze casting down, “ba'ale' ma' bin beya'.” 

The moonlight peeked through the slits of your curtain’s blinds, casting a soft white glow on the outline of his brown skin. 

He traced the curves of your body with his hand, going over the dip and rise of your waist and hip. You figured it was to distract himself a bit. 

You didn’t mind that at all. 

It was rare to see Namor like this. Quiet. It wasn’t like him, but you understood why.

Usually, he always had a snarky reply up his sleeve or a comment on whatever he could tease you on.

But tonight, this was different. Not the first time, but different.

“I worried more for my people. I don’t…” His words faded, but you finished them, knowing what he’d say.

“…want them harmed.”

Namor gave a small nod.

The ends of your lips stretched to express a sad smile.

He did not think he was enough to protect them.

You knew of his past.

How his mother died, outliving her, and he was the one his people were dependent on. He led them and grew their civilization over the many years.

His people were precious to him, everything to him. It was that trait of love that you adored, the fierce protectiveness and his willing to go beyond whatever means necessary to keep his people safe and out of harm’s way.

Knowing that the surface world could discover them ate at him.

You ran a finger across one of his pearl necklaces.

“Worrying is a normal thing, Namor. You are their king; they look up to you and they know you will protect them. You are K’uk’ulkan. A god to your people.”

There’s a long pause of silence afterwards, and you watched the tiny flicks of changes of expression on your lover’s face. You wait for him to say something or look at you, but nothing.

His tense body relaxes against yours.

“I know you will keep them safe; unharmed,” you added, grabbing his still hand that was at your waist. You planted a soft kiss on the back of it, then looked at him as you intertwined your fingers together.

“Níib óolal in yakunaj,” he murmured softly to you, but he knew you heard him.

You pressed your forehead against his once more.

“I love you,” you gently smiled.

-

They said he was a boy who grew without love.

But you were the person willing to give him the love he deserved.

✧ taglist: @slenderclaw @marc-spectorr @96jnie @taestrwbrry @caroldxnvxrs @namorsirens @smut4lifee @sunfairyy @layazul @duchcess @salimothmanlover @vampiredoll6-6-6 @aniia-x3 @eerievixen @deliciousfestsalad @astrospunutt @heart-an0n (didn’t let me tag all of u for some reason 😔)

✧ translations:

"in yakunaj" = "my love"

"ba'ale' ma' bin beya'" = "but it didn't"

"níib óolal in yakunaj" = "thank you, my love"

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