#please forgive my grammar

[fukcnoplease]

Things always go wrong Pt2 :0

Pt1 Pt3 Pt4 Pt5

Dani roused from her sleep to see forests rushing passed and the sun beginning to dip behind them. The world was bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun and she basked in its beauty. This was why she loved traveling. The beauty, the freedom, the fun.

She turned to Danny to see none of those things. He was gaunt and rigid. Eyes pinned to the road in tense silence as they drove way too many miles over the speed limit. 

“Did you die die?” Dani asked, poking his cheek. He felt clammy. That probably wasn't good. Dani didn't feel great either. Tired and saggy, like all her muscles had deflated.

Danny just grunted in response. That was VERY not good. No Danny banter meant Danny really HAD died.

“So is this a drive to heaven or to hell?” She asked. Danny snorted. That was a good sign.

“Gotham.” He grumbled. It sounded forced, like it hurt to say. Dani frowned.

“So hell it is. Why are we going there?” Danny remained silent and his face fell into a scowl. “You’re doing a pretty good Batman impression but that doesnt tell me why we are going to meet him.”

“We are not meeting batman. We are going to Jazz” Danny said.

“Ooh, better than batman!” Dani playfully punched her arms in the air and Danny winced. Dani noticed but didn’t comment as she went to grab his phone. It was cracked slightly and was full of messages and calls from Sam and Tucker. Notably, it didn't have any directions pulled up.

“Do you know where you’re going?” Danni asked. Danny moved for the first time, shifting uncomfortably.

“...No.” He muttered as he kept his eyes on the road. Dani rolled her eyes at him and started looking through his phone, she had learned his password ages ago and as much as he threatened to change it on her, he never did. Though that might have been more forgetfulness than endearment but Dani would interpret it as she wished.

“You are so bad at road trips.” She said as she connected his phone to the aux cord and pulled up directions to Gotham. They still had almost nine hours to drive and the sun was only getting lower. “There is a rest stop about an hour from here. We can rest there for the night.”

Danny didn't look too pleased at the idea but he knew they didn't have any money for a motel and he couldn't drive the entire night. He didn't want to stop driving so soon though. Moving helped dull the pain.

“Are there any further rest stops?”

“Hmm… Theres one about three hours from us?and then another at the six hour mark. We could stop there for lunch tomorrow.” Dani said. Danny grumbled but nodded. He didn't want to stop at all tomorrow. Stopping for the night felt like too much, let alone pausing midway through the drive tomorrow.

The rest of the drive was Dani playing music and chatting away. Chipping away at Danny’s panicked and suffering walls until he finally relaxed into their usual banter. She played eye-spy and when she got bored of that she played twenty questions. When Danny chose a water bear as his animal she gave up on that too. They devolved into silly arguments about how water bears shouldn't be allowed or how it wasn't fair that Dani kept picking things Danny couldn't see in eye-spy. 

As the sky darkened and the car’s headlights came on they fell into an easy silence. Danny still hurt but it was better and Dani’s core was humming comfort at him which helped.

Dani was half asleep when they pulled into the rest stop. The lights still on but the cafes and restaurants, closed or closing. She woke up fully when Danny moved to look through the back seat. Shuffling through whatever he had thrown back there and forgotten about. 

Gloves, a box of tissues, an empty tote bag and an old backpack he used before he bought a new one. It had a gum packet in it and a pen but nothing else. Groaning, he went and opened the trunk, a black scorch mark from where it had been hit earlier that day. He had camping gear for when he went stargazing. A tent, blankets, portable stove and a lighter, gas for the stove, a pocket knife, a mess kit. He was rummaging through when Dani popped up beside him.

“You got twenty dollars in your phone case.” She said and Danny jerked up hitting his head on the trunk door. He rubbed his head and whacked Dani’s shoulder while she laughed, he was smiling but he wouldn't admit it.

He grabbed his phone from the car and Dani closed the trunk, whistling at the damage.

“Who did that?” She asked, eyeing the marks on the car.

“Some fruitloops after a kidnapped ghost.” Danny said.

“Kidnapped? Me? How awful.” She said, putting her hand up and pretending to swoon.

“You’re right. The poor kidnappers.” Danny laughed and Dani rolled her eyes. She punched him in the side playfully and he hissed in pain. 

They both paused and Dani poked his side and he winced.

“Are you ok?” She asked. He hasn't seemed that injured when he was driving.

“Yeah, just a bit tender.” Danny joked. Dani stared at him, waiting for a better answer than that and Danny sighed. “Leaving Amity was harder than I thought it would be.” Dani still didn't really understand but Danny looked like he would rather be sick than answer her and she really didn't want him to be sick in front of her. 

“Do you want to get food?” she asked and Danny gave her a thankful smile before nodding. 

They grabbed a snack each, bbq chips and oreos,  and a bottle of water to share. Dani nicked a portable charger and some jerky while Danny was in the bathroom and then they headed back out to the door. When they were back in the car Dani pulled out the portable charger and plugged in Danny’s phone.

“Where did you get that?” He asked, eyeing it incredulously. It definitely didn't look under twelve dollars and thats all they had left after the snacks.

“Same place we got the rest of this stuff.” She said dropping the rest of the snacks and jerky between them. Danny noted the extra snack but just rolled his eyes. They ate but Danny kept the jerky for the next day and then he pulled out the blankets from his trunk. 

Snuggled up, with their cores harmonizing, they fell asleep. 

The car shook and a bang followed by the crunching and scraping of metal woke them up. Danny shot up, the sky just starting to lighten, face meeting with the barrel of an anti-ecto gun. He lunged to the side. The headrest of his seat was evaporated and Dani sent out her own ecto blast. The attacker was forced back into the white van that was ramming them and they could hear some colourful words through their panic. Danny jammed the key into the ignition and turned it, the engine roaring to life. Shrieking metal filled their ears as the forced the vehicles apart and booked it out of the parking lot. The road bumps sending pieces of glass flying as Danny realized his window had been smashed during the attack. The back seat window seemed cracked but still intact and the windscreen had a spider web fracture but was holding up. His core shuddered at the damage but the pain was overridden by the need to protect Dani. 

He glanced over and saw a very shellshocked young ghost shaking in the passenger seat. She probably used too much ectoplasm in that blast. Neither of them were recovered enough and even with harmonizing he wasn't sure they would be able to recover enough to take another attack. He shook his head and focused on driving.

It took some maneuvers and some, maybe a lot, of speeding to lose the GIW but they managed. Dani pulled up directions and turned on whatever music she could find.

They spent the next few hours staring out their respective windows. Dani didn't like it. She didn't like the silence or the stress or the way her body shook in fear and exhaustion. Road Trips were supposed to be fun.

Danny didn't speak. His core was barely humming, barely responding to her, as they drove. It wasn't until the low gas symbol popped up on the dash that he said anything and of course it was just another curse. Dani was getting fed up with Danny’s shrinking vocabulary. 

She didn't say anything as she added a new stop to the directions, the closest gas station. Maybe a part of her was hoping her grumpiness would get Danny to snap out of whatever grump he was experiencing. Probably not a reasonable or healthy way to handle the situation, if you asked someone like Jazz, but Dani didn't ask Jazz. 

Danny didn't seem to notice though. He pulled into the gas station and turned off the car. His core buzzing with panic as he set up the gas pump and slumped against the car with a groan of pain. Dani frowned and poked her head out of the car. He looked pale, too pale. They were in their human forms, he shouldn't be that pale. At least she didn't think so. Though maybe she wasn't an expert on normal human medicine.

The gas pump beeped and Danny dragged himself up to remove the pump and go into the gas station. Dani suddenly worried about how they would pay, they had filled the tank up to full and that couldn't be cheap. 

Danny stumbled and fell into someone by the gas station entrance, a big guy with tattoos in a tank top, jeans and were those cowboy boots? Danny apologized and the guy shoved him, making him stumble again. Dani almost flew out of the car at him before she noticed a flash of dark leather in Danny’s hand.

No way.

The big tough guy waved him off and went back to smoking as Danny went inside and paid with a wallet he had most definitely not had five minutes ago. Danni stared at her basically brother, slacked jawed, as he casually dropped the wallet back into the guys pocket with some intangibility and then hurriedly slipped back into the car. His face was hard and he glared forward as he started the car.

“Did you just-?” Dani started, her excitement at her brother's newfound skills making her bounce in her seat. 

“No. Dont. Talk about it.” He cut her off, jaw set. She stilled in her seat and went back to pouting. When she vibrated her core at him he didn't even respond. She felt her core freeze at the lack of reaction and she tried again. There was a thump of something and Danny grunted but that was it. That was all that she got. Dread curled in her stomach as she stared at the road in front of her. 

They drove on and Dani didn't even mention the second rest stop they were supposed to stop at and Danny didn't either. There wasn't even music and the silence was only occasionally broken by a pained breath from Danny or an attempted hum from Dani’s core. It was a painful drive and Dani tried to sleep to help time passed. It worked partially, she slept fitfully for about twenty minutes each rest but it helped her heal. By the time they had found themselves in the midmorning traffic into Gotham she was feeling much more herself.

Danny looked worse and his arm trembled from being kept in a tense position for so long. A thin sheen of sweat covered him and Dani opened to her mouth to say something only to slam it shut at the waves of panic suddenly rolling off Danny. 

The car had rolled to a stop as the traffic came to a standstill. Thankfully they were in the slowest lane and there was a hard shoulder on their right but it did little to comfort Danny’s mounting panic. He didn't want to stay still, he couldn't, they were in danger and needed to keep moving. 

“Hey, are you-” Dani was interrupted by an explosion. They both spun to see billows of smoke about twenty cars back and a familiar white van barreling down the hard shoulder. Danny sucked in a breath of air and hit the gas as he swerved into the hard shoulder himself. He pressed on the gas as they went, coming up on a motorcycle attempting to skip traffic. Dani reached over Danny’s shaking arms and slammed on the horn as they gained on the man in red. He glanced back and barely managed to crash out of the way before they ran him down. As they zoomed passed the poor guy Dani looked out her window to give him an apologetic wave. His helmet was weirder when she saw it close up, less like a motorcycle helmet and more like a mask but for his whole head. She gave him a wave and he stared after them. The white van careening after them and obstructing her view. 

Danny followed the hard shoulder until it turned to grass and he kept going. The grass turned into a ditch and he grit his teeth as he maneuvered his beloved car to keep going. Thankfully the car, even turned at an almost forty five degree angle still kept going, if only slower than he would have liked. The white van on the other hand, hit the ditch and flipped, crashing to a halt behind them. Dani watched people crawl out of the van and try to chase after them but even going slowly their car was still faster. Though a lucky shot shattered the back window.

They pulled the car back into traffic, receiving honks and rude gestures before they went deeper into the murky city. It was only another few minutes of driving before Danny found an empty, unkempt parking lot to stop in. He shot out of the car and ripped the back seat door off its hinges trying to get the backpack he had back there. Dani grabbed his phone, the leftover cash, portable charger, and jerky before joining him behind the car as he stuffed his knife, lighter and a blanket into his bag. She offered her stuff and he opened the bag for her. As soon as everything was in he zipped it shut and went to pick Dani up.

“Woah! No! You’re not carrying me. I can walk just fine.” She said, glaring at Danny as he looked back at her. His eyes didn't seem totally focused and she grabbed his hand instead. “If you need to hold on to me so bad you can hold this. Now lets go.” And she was off, dragging a clearly not ok Danny behind her. 

Did she know where she was going? No, but she would figure it out. Unlike Danny, she was used to finding places to sleep in unfriendly and unfamiliar cities. She could recognize safe places to stay. At least she was pretty sure she could.

~~

Gonna try and figure out how to do the Pt1 Pt2 links I actually have like four chapters(?) written cause i got sucked in last night

[chiropteracupola]

c. 1540 CE: a young man from Chalco, and his dragon.

[thesunisatangerine]

playing for keeps – chapter three

alexia putellas x barçakeeper!childhoodfriend!reader

warnings: coarse language, light angst

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

word count: 8.8k

[1]

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

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

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

In Gelsenkirchen, Germany, you found your destiny. 

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

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

[2]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She looked adorable. 

You bit your tongue before you could say it.

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

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

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

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

Alexia opened her mouth, “I—”

Your mother’s shout cut through the air. 

“Honey? Guille is here for you!” 

You sent Alexia one last apologetic glance. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you okay?”

He let out a strained, “Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Here.”

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

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

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

A new pair of keeper gloves.

“Guille, you didn’t have to!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is this alright?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really. You didn’t see me? Besides—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your gaze lanced away as you bit your lip.

Maybe you should’ve told her after all… 

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

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

“Have you told Alejandro about this?”

“Yes.” 

“Oh.” A pause. “What did he say?”

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

An uncomfortable silence settled over you three. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, no. What was it now?

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

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

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

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

“You don’t know that!”

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

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

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

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

[3]

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

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

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

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

Okay. That was fair.

“Ale,” you said softly. 

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

“Alexia, come on.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh. So that was what this was about.

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

“Then why did you tell him that?”

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

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

You blinked at her. 

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

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

“Why are you laughing? I’m serious!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

[4]

“—you okay?”

You blinked and turned to Alexia. “Hmm?”

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

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

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

You sighed, blinking the memory away.

“Guille asked me out.”

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

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

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

“Are you okay, girls?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know.”

“Do you want him?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

[5]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She nodded back.

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

Julia only shrugged carelessly, a gesture of nonchalance.

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

A collective nodding occurred.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At last, your team finally made a breakthrough.

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

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

You slammed to the ground. 

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

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

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

“Tell me where it hurts.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I promise.” 

This time, you believed her.

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

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

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

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

You liked Alexia.

And, even more importantly, you want her.

[6]

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

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

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

Well, almost.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lies!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey! I’m not—”

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

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

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

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

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

[7]

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

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

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

 And your chest ached a little.

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

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

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

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

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

“No, it’s just me here.”

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

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

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

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

“She still doesn’t know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like what?”

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

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

“Give me one good reason why I should.”

“She loves you.”

A pause.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You choked on your words. 

After all this time, it was still too painful.

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

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

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

Guille kept quiet, too.

The both of you knew just the reason why.

[8]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jona blinked at you.

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

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

Jona gave you another questioning look before speaking again. 

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

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

“Use me.”

[fixyourwritinghabits]

Today's Editing Woe

No grammar checker, I am not going to change "vain attempt" to "vein attempt" are you out of your mind

[sungjinhos]

BF! WONWOO hanging out on lazy days 18+ mdi

lazy sundays were you completely favorite. everybody hated sundays, the dreaded week lurking the feeling of the rest day just ending.

but you learned to love sundays. sundays meant late and lazy breakfast in bed, it meant snuggle in hoodies all day, it meant not getting out of the house, it meant laying in the sofa all day reading with your boyfriend between your legs.

you started reading a book that your boyfriend and also bookworm gifted to you; "I just thought you would enjoy it" he said while giving it to you as he arrived from his last leg of his tour "I brought in a pretty bookshop in New York, it has a nice coffee in it, you would love it, we should go together in your next vacation" and your heart sweell nicely thinking about your boyfriend just going around New York thinking about you.

wonwoo rubbed himself against your stomach, claiming for your attettion. "this book is boring" he said, leaving the book on the floor. "I mean it's not boring but I already know who is the killer" he continued, putting his hand inside your hoodie and on your skin, making your heart buzz a little and making you shrink a little.

"mine is pretty fine, you made a good choice" you said ignoring your boyfriend lifting his hand to your rib cage and depositing a brief kiss against the line of your sweatpants.

"yeah? did you liked you present baby?" he said while his hand travelled through your body, his fingertips touching the valley between your bobs and resting against your neck. "i always think of you when i see pretty things."

"you know i liked wonu, i almost cried when you showed me the whole bag you brought back full of presents." you saying running your fingers thought his short hair, he almost never used liked that and you dont know why but made you more attatched to it. wonwoo laughed, that almost scoffing sound full of air.

"that's what my baby deserves" he kissed your stomach and retreated his hand just so he could grab you by the hips with both hands. "I'm such a nice boyfriend, and yet you leave me bored out of my mind because of a book." he said playing with the hem of your pants.

"you are acting like I ignored you for an hour." you finally bookmark the page of your book knowing that it is a lost fight. You are not reading a sentence anymore.

"not a hour" your boyfriend finally gets off the sofa just so he can take off your pants, he lays between your legs again and he presses a kiss against you clothed pussy making you catch your breath. "a few minutes at least"

"not even five minutes baby" you complain while opening more your legs so your boyfriend gets comfortable, he just squirm a little and plant his big hands in your thighs.

"more than twenty for sure." he says while he travel his fingers against your clothed pussy, putting more pressure at your clitoris making you whimper pathetically.

"not that much." somehow even to yourself your voice sound pitiful, wonwoo barely did anything to you and somehow you are almost begging already.

"did so." he says without leaving his fingers against your pussy, and you can almost feel his fingertip through the cloth, the way your wetness is spreading somehow makes you feel that the cloth is getting thinner, almost disappearing but still not enough. "I love watching you." he pauses and presses a kiss in your pussy, and you feel his wet tongue against you. "you are so pretty all over, I just can't take my eyes off you" he says as he presses his fingers against your entrance.

"not fair." you protest while your fingers find solace in the pillow by your head.

"what baby?" he tuts. "cant i find my girlfriend pretty?" he says while he finally pushes your panty to the side. he pinches your pussy. "so fucking pretty and so fucking messy."

"wonu" you protest again feelling a little faint, a little dumb like you always gets when wonwoo talks to you like that, with his voice low like he is telling you a secret making your insides coil.

"fucking love your pussy" he says before finally putting his mouth against you, hot breath fanning over your pussy until you feel his tongue between your folds. and its like being submersed in a way, searching for air but not getting enough. wonwoo pushes your legs up and you come back to reality a little bit, the way his fingers presses against your flesh anchors you.

"god" wonwoo murmurs. "i could live like that" he says while his fingers left your thigh and comes to grope at your pussy, pressing his palm against your puffy lips. "could live eating you out" he says against your thights while you feel his fingers at your entrance, and he push just a little, making you go a tad bit crazy, putting your arms above your head and arching your back, trying to make his finger go in just a little bit more. "don't worry baby I will give It to you."

And you just feel a little bit more out of your mind, a little more hot, a little more denraged, the way his speaks to you just make you squirm because his voice is so full of adoration, like every word is just full of lust that make you clench and you just give up feeling his hot mouth against you, his tongue going against your folds. He keeps lapping at your pussy like he is getting so fucking drunk, you lock eyes with him and he just suck your clit while you feel his second finger aagainst you.

"baby please-" you finally beg and you dont even need to finish because wonwoo just knows what you need and his just put his second finger in you, and in a way it feels so much but not enough, you feel so tight, like every muscle of your body is working. You give up, you just need a little bit more, so you trail your hands against yourself, searching, you put your hand inside your hoodie, finding your boobs and squeezing.

wonwoo mouth leaves your pussy and you whine, his free hands lifting up your hoodie so he can watch you playing with yourself. His eyes travel between your hands and pussy like he can't make a choice. "fuck" he laughs a little "you are just so hot." and he just bite the skin at your hips. "so wet and taking my fingers so well" he changes his position and presses his hand against your tigh so you open your legs for him. "look at you" he coos "you have such a pretty cunt." He says while he keeps fucking your with his fingers. You whine again, feeling desperated, hasty, but you are just at the end of the cliff almost falling and wonwoo just know, he takes his other hand and just pinch at your clit making your moan. "come on baby, you can do it, just a little one and i give you my cock hun? just know you gonna take it so well gonna split you open in a little bit."

and you just fall apart thinking about the way his dick would feel.

[yurki-posts]

collection of Flippys ^^

[flameunquenched]

nearly 1700 words into burn like stars and they are still standing on the balcony. this fic is gonna be like 8-10k words of nothing but smut. i'm so excited.

here's a little snippet of some i'm written today.

[hellogoodbyeitsme]

Damian, still fresh to the family, but actually starting to warm up to the idea of them actually being his family, looks up online 'how to be a good little brother.'

He finds all sorts of things like, "using cuteness to get what you want from your elder siblings" (lame, no way that works) "fake extra tears when they punch you so your parents buy you icecream and whatever else you want" (why on EARTH would he want anyone think he could be so weak?) etc, but he also sees stuff about Pranks, sibling fights (in the sense of "you know they're real siblings because they'll throw hands one minute, then 5 minutes later be laughing watching tv together like nothing happened"), and concepts like Sibling Code (like, absolute secrecy between siblings toward their parents, threatening potential heartbreakers, etc).

Cue him pulling pranks, like leaving lego everywhere and waiting for his shoeless family to step on them, hiding things that the others need (like, right now), sneaking things into the batcave that shouldn't be in the batcave, throwing himself at his siblings to brawl without any reason and then promptly stopping also with no reason (and wondering why they won't spend time with him to bond afterward), planning out how to threaten a literal magic space princess (Kori, who would probably find it very cute if he actually made it that far), hiding Literally Very Important information about his siblings from Bruce and Alfred because he's not a snitch, and he is a great little brother. (he's going to get an A in Little Brother which is something totally normal to want and achieve)

He eventually gets BIG scolded for his constant misbehaviour, though. Bruce and Dick are asking why he's going off the rails so much when he doesn't even seem particularly angry anymore - in fact, sometimes he even seems fairly content! Is there an issue they're unaware of? Something he's not expressing to the family? They're not mad if there's a problem, they just want to help!

So, of course, he then has to embarrassingly explain that he was just following little brother protocol, according to.. the internet. He gets bullied about it for weeks by his elders (to different degrees), since the internet is not going to help anyone be a better sibling, but they also each try to explain (in their own ways) (their own waynes) why he was so, so very wrong about the way he approached being a good sibling, so he can hopefully improve at it (and stop terrorising the household).

(I saw a meme post about Damian putting legos all over the floor + hiding Tim's shoes to harm him and it made me think of the concept)

(Also once he learns that acting extra cute really can get him what he wants, he tries to use it now and then to his advantage, but is hilariously bad at doing it, since he doesn't really have a grasp on what makes a younger sibling cute (which is.... literally just existing,, according to me, a middle child). Lucky for him the others eat up every attempt because it's so obvious what he's doing that it becomes cute to them, so he doesn't need to get real practice with it until he tries to use it on a non-bat who laughs at him for far too long about it and thusly brews fire in him to go back to the pranks he tried at the start of the little brother training montage and show them real sibling pain for making a fool of him.)

[moonlightblueandicegrey]

Date for... Three

Summary: Jaya is going on a date but all the ninja have "something important to do" and young Lloyd can't stay alone in the Bounty. Jay and Nya decide to take him with them.

............................................................................

Jay was so angry. He finally managed to ask Nya for another date but obviously something had to go wrong again! He didn't watch after Lloyd the last week because he was kinda sick, that was true. Zane took care of Lloyd for two days to cover Jay's place. This week, he could babysit Lloyd every other day except Saturday! He had a date on Saturday! Jay asked everyone if they could exchange day with him so he would be free for Nya. But no! Everyone had something else to do. Well... Kai didn't really have something important... He just hoped that the date would get cancelled. Thanks Kai...

Now Jay had to tell Lloyd and Nya the news. He decided to tell Nya first. She was in her room so he went there a little anxious, took a deep breath and knocked the door. He tried to look as calm as possible when Nya told him to come in.

Jay: H-hey Nya...

Nya: Oh hey Jay. What's happening? Are you alright?

Jay: Yes, yes! I'm good... I just...

Nya: You don't look good. Sit down.

Jay: No, I'm fine... I just have something important to tell you.

Nya: Oh... It's about our date again, isn't it?

Jay: Well... Yes.

Nya: Agh! Can we just have a normal date? We don't ask for much!

Jay: Well... It seems that someone has to take care of Lloyd today... And that someone has to be me. We are unlucky...

Nya: No one else could replace you?

Jay: No. Zane did last week. And this is our first day off after a long time. They all have things to do.

Nya: So now we can either cancel our date or take Lloyd with us?

Jay: That's how it seems. Umm... What do you prefer? Don't get me wrong, I don't want to cancel our date! I just don't know if taking Lloyd with us is a very good idea...

Nya: Well... We are going to the cinema and then in the park... I think Lloyd can come. Right?

Jay: Don't ask me! I'm awful with children!

Nya: Oh, come on! You're not that bad.

Jay: Whatever... You know what? Don't change your plans for today. We are going on a this date no matter what. We will eventually have company but we can manage. Agreed?

Nya: Since our last date was destroyed, and we don't know when we'll have another day off... Yes, i agree.

Jay: But you are the one who's going to tell Lloyd the news.

Nya: Why me?!

Jay: Because last time i argued with him, he tried to bite me! And he succeeded! I still have the mark!

Nya: Then try to not argue with him this time.

Jay: Easy for you to say. He likes you but he seems to dislike me.

Nya: That's because you are panicking with everything no matter how small it actually is. You end up being overprotective Jay. Let him breathe.

Jay: ...Good point. But come on Nya! Please tell him. I can't do it by myself. Never trust me with a child, that's a law!

Nya: Fine. But I'll do it just because I don't want anything to ruin this date, including Lloyd's complaining.

Jay: Oh, thank you Nya! You are amazing!

Nya: I know, right? What would you do without me?

Jay left Nya's room after a while and went straight to his bed. He wasn't sleepy. He just wanted to think. He was so anxious about this date. He was worried that something would go wrong again... Like last time... And since Lloyd was coming too? More chances of ending up in trouble. But he needed this date so bad... He wanted to make it up to Nya for transforming into a snake and wasting his first chance. He hoped for something better this time. How bad could it possibly go? Okay... This question doesn't help at all. But still. He just needed calmness, patience and luck. Something he didn't have.

Afternoon came faster than he thought. He took a quick shower, got dressed and this time he chose casual clothes. Much better and much more comfortable than the suit he wore to Megamonster. And no perfume anymore. When he was ready, he found Lloyd. The kid was playing video games, completely focused on his "epic win".

Jay: Lloyd? Are ya ready yet?

Lloyd: (Deep sigh) Why do i have to come with you? Why can't i stay here? I almost beat your record!

Jay: What?!

Lloyd: Relax. Not in your favourite game.

Jay: Ah. Okay... Well, Lloyd, apparently you are too young to stay here alone and since it's my turn to take care of you, you must come.

Lloyd: Oh, now I'm too young! Yesterday i was too old, today I'm too young... Choose one already!

Jay: Sorry bud. But please don't make it harder... I wanted so much to have this second chance to impress Nya... Please help me out!

Lloyd: She told me we are going to the cinema and then... The park?

Jay: Yes. Please Lloyd, I'm literally begging you! I don't want any trouble today...

Lloyd: Let me see... Buy me a pack of strawberry caramels and a lollipop and I'll be an angel.

Jay: Deal.

Lloyd: Deal. But tomorrow I'm gonna complain about how boring your date was.

Jay: Tomorrow break my nerves, i don't care. Just not today.

Lloyd followed Jay to Nya's room. She was ready, waiting for them. Jay couldn't help but stare at her. She looked so good in casual clothes (much more like her style than any other fancy dress or something) and wow- blue looked amazing on her... Jay was used to watching Nya in red and he loved it as well, but blue? Blue was something else! It was Lloyd's voice that brought Jay back to reality.

Lloyd: Hey Nya! You look beautiful!

Nya: Hey guys! Thank you Lloyd!

Jay: Hi, Nya... Wow...

Nya: You like it? I needed a change. And i thought blue would look just right.

Jay: It looks perfect...

Lloyd: It's the colour of your eyes. It suits you.

Nya: Thanks! Now let's go! There's no need to waste more time in here.

Lloyd was calm and quiet in the beginning of the date. Nya and Jay were walking holding each of Lloyd's hands like if he was their child. Lloyd was just looking in the city's lights and skyscrapers admiring them. The colourful lights were reflecting in his green eyes. Jay and Nya seemed to have a normal conversation like the usual ones they have which Lloyd though as incredibly boring. He would have started complaining already if it wasn't about the candy deal. Kai banned him from sugar and sweets for a whole month! He needed those candies! Being patient for the rest of the day was his only chance of getting them.

They all finally arrived at the cinema. It was a little crowded due to the new Starfarer movie. Jay and Nya wanted to watch a romantic movie but now that Lloyd was with them... They had to change plans. And of course when Lloyd saw the huge posters of his favourite comics he decided what movie they would watch, immediately. Could they go against that little guy? No. He was too adorable and polite. How could they ignore his request? Answer: they couldn't. And since they couldn't watch the romantic movie they wanted anyway, nothing better than sci-fi.

They bought pop corn because there's no way Jay was watching a movie without pop corn (and jellies for Lloyd but shhh! 🤫). The movie started and ended peacefully. Lloyd liked it a little too much and didn't took his eyes off of the screen, not even for a second. Maybe this date wasn't that bad after all. Jay and Lloyd liked the comics and Nya liked watching both of them happy. She knew the characters and plot after so many hours they were both talking to her about their favourite sci-fi comics so there was no need for the boys to explain anything.

The movie was long enough though and the place was too crowded, so after the credits they needed fresh air. The couple took Lloyd by the hands and they went to the park laughing and listening to the child talking enthusiastically about the film. Lloyd had too much energy after staying still for a three hour movie so he used their walk as a chance to play in the park and the fountain.

Jay and Nya could have some alone time now... They did. They left Lloyd run around the fountain for a while. Not for too long, but it was enough for them to admire the night sky and the bright, full moon. At least that's what Nya was admiring because Jay got lost in her shiny, blue eyes. He was so pleased, watching his crush being happy and relaxed instead of having one thousand things in her mind, troubling her thoughts and breaking her nerves. That wasn't a usual view: Nya being so calm. She usually was either stressed or she was wearing the tough warrior mask for long periods of time. Jay loved giving her a break every now and then. She totally deserved it.

Don't think this date was going to end with that typical kiss everyone shares at similar situations though. Of course there was a kiss as well but it was interrupted by noises of disgust.

Lloyd: That's disgusting, both of you! Ewww!!!

The couple couldn't help but laugh with Lloyd's reaction to their kiss. And they had to tease him about it! They made the perfect plan just by looking in each others eyes, no need for words. They run to Lloyd, hugged him and kissed his forehead causing him to laugh more than he complained. They were so happy running around, playing, and making jokes! Someone might call them childish or silly but Jay and Nya couldn't care less because they loved every single second of it! So did Lloyd!

Maybe bringing the kid with them wasn't a bad idea after all. Instead, of "ruining" things, this little guy helped them relax, be themselves and get rid of awkwardness and anxiety. Lloyd himself didn't get bored as he thought, neither he became a "burden". He had fun too. And he felt safe for once. Safe and comfortable with the people he considered to be his family. They looked so much like a family and felt like being one.

............................................................................

Credits to @finnsomersaults Thanks for giving me this request! 😉 And i should have posted this earlier so i apologize for being late.

Also, please forgive any possible mistakes.

[mitsuki91]

Please let's talk about the infamous quote about Tigris. Enjoy ALL the quote, first of all (thanks to @burntblueberrywaffles for the screen):

Now. You can ignore the second half and take the phrase at its face value, as antis love to do, and think "omg what a horrible man, who thinks this things?! Monster!" and feel proud that you can read in the sense you can recognize the letters, put them together and see that you know how all the words and the word's meaning and applaude yourself. Congrats, you can read!

No, that's not how you read.

Welcome to "basic reading comprehension 1.0".

First of all, this phrase doesn't exist alone, it's not floating in a blank page. You have to read the several sentences before that to actually understand why this phrase was written in the first place. And this phrase is right at the start of the book so I promise it won't take long.

So, let's start. I don't have the english book so please bare with me when I explain you things without the actual quote, I promise it is what actuall happens in the book.

We first see Coriolanus Snow who force himself to eat cabbage soup. That he despises it but he knows he need it to prevent the rumble in his stomach. So, you see, right here in the first sentence you have one important details: Coriolanus is not worried about hunger per se, is worried about let other people know he is hungry. Just with this you can already understand one of his core value: the appearences.

And he tells us so in the next senteces. He has an important name and live in a fancy house (from outside) but he has nothing. He has so nothing that he is now worried about a shirt, because he has important stuff to do (later we discover that the Reaping is tied with the Plinth Prize he needs so desperately). The only hope for the shirt is his cousin, Tigris, who can sew and already save him more than once, but... Well, this time she has not a great start. The only shirt he owns is stained and burned and has only half of the buttons. It needs a miracle, he needs a miracle, and even the black market was no use...

They already tried, he tells us so. But no one wants to buy or exchange the shirt. Only... This morning, the morning of the Reaping, he can not find nor Tigris nor the shirt.

So he starts to worried. And he leads us to why he was thinking about a price for Tigris in the first place. Context, people. I will post the actual quote of the book (thanks to @xalonelydreamerx for the screen):

They already try to sell/exchange something for a better shirt, and they have nothing. What is left? Tigris herself. WHAT IS LEFT? TIGRIS HERSELF, PLEASE READ THIS AGAIN.

So, we have an actual reason, a valid reason, he has to think about Tigris selling herself and people putting price on her.

Now after this come the quote, I paste again for you:

And now we can read the FULL quote.

The first half: he uses this to describe to us his cousin, and he tries to mantain a "fair" and "external pov" for it, because he puts himself in the shoes of a man who can be interested in buying her. The "vulnerability that invited abuse" is a mere objective though and also serve the purpose to tell us reader that Tigris is sweet and innocent and maybe a little bit naive, or can be perceived like that from the world. And we know this is true. Tigris is sweet and caring, she takes care of Coryo, she always did. We will know better later, this is a mere introduction.

But the second half. The second half of the quote, you all. He feels disgusted with himself for the though and this is already a good start to understand that HE DIDN'T MEAN TO PUT A PRICE ON HER AND SELL HER, NEVER, but the actual most important word here is "helpless". HELPLESS. BECAUSE HE IS THE PROVIDER OF THE FAMILY.

He is the hope. We will learn about the Plinth Prize and what it means for the family. We will learn that everyone rely on him to win the prize and save them. We will learn that he was told, since the start, that he as 'the man of the house' has the duty of provide for his family.

He is happy in that role, mind you. Worried sick, of course, because it is difficult and he can count only on the Plinth Prize to achieve something, so he has to win and the pressure is huge. There are also complex feelings around the Snow names: the fact that he feels that it is his duty to protect the family image, masking the thruth... etc etc etc.

But the first information we have, the most important piece we have from the start to put together who is Coriolanus Snow at the core, is right here. In the first page. In a part of that sentence antis like to quote and simply forget to do it in full.

Coriolanus Snow has to face the realistic possibility, the realistic concern that his cousin might consider the idea to sell herself to help him provide for their family and he fells horrified and helpless.

Helpless.

Because 1) a Snow could never think such a thing, how humiliating, how a failure for their name; and most important 2) if Tigris will do it it means that he failed in the worst possible way and he is not longer able to provide for his family and so were is his own worth? When everything he learned since he was born was to take care of his family and his family's name, that it is his duty, because he is the heir (also little ps: we learn later that since he will graduate the little pension they have now for his father death will stop because he will be a man, so also Panem itself is telling him he has to be able to provide for his family because he will be 'grown up' and 'in the real world' now).

We learn that Coriolanus Snow never wants to sell Tigris, that he is sick at the mere though, and we learn just right here just in the first page what are the core value of him. What moves him and what he thinks of himself and his family.

We learn who Coriolanus Snow is, as if we never knew his name and he was just a boy at the start of his own story.

And antis always forget about this and take one sentence out of context and judge him with "president Snow tinted glasses" and just because this quote is at the start of the book they like to scream to everyone "See? This is it, he was always bad, from the start!". And they actually just tell us that they can not understand what they are reading instead.

Okay, I hope that this lesson was worth it. Reading comprehension 1.0. I hope some antis will come accross this post and take time to read it. It's not too late to learn how to understand what you read, after all.

And now I will go to sleep that I have a terrible headache 😂 bye!

[plasticfangtastic]

Can we be lonely Together?

A Homelander x Stalker!Reader fan fiction

This is my first fic for this fandom (and in a decade lol) this is a bit of a slow burner and will have about 8 to 9 chapters.

This is a Gender Neutral reader (but honestly is just me shipping Homelander with Joe Goldberg... so feel free to see it as a crossover, just not going to make it clear at all in the fic.)

Summary: We were two mouses pretending to be cats, weren't we?

We didn't expect to find ourselves in this situation, but John... Homelander... you were perfect... none of this was a lie, these feelings I got are genuine! So I don't know why you're using such words like: Stalker, Psychotic bitch, Insane, liar! To describe me... after all I've done? To help you!?

You were wrong.

I just yearned to get closer to you. So what if I did my homework? After all it was you who played along.

I knew you knew... you were so loud.

R18+ (there will be smut, drug abuse and gore in later chapters) gore, stalking, killing.

Chapter One

Apologies

It pains me to say this… I'm genuinely ashamed, embarrassed more like it! To admit that I genuinely wasn’t impressed by you. 

        Your face had been painted on every surface to death... It has grown boring.

       Nothing but an overbearing presence to the common man, but the average citizen didn’t loathe you, fear you, hate you or even found you pastiche! They simply adored you. 

        Your face was plastered on everything one could imagine and then some– I’m not just talking mugs by the Target checkout area or birthday cards, and keychains, but sausage packages in the supermarket! Your face wasn’t all that special to me… I used to think of you as nothing more than an aged jock from a John Hughes movie, the tights didn’t fool me, you wore the varsity jacket underneath the foam-- I had bets that you were going to be the worst the world could’ve manufactured if I ever met you.

Now… Now I see… I was wrong… contrite is the word that describes this social faux-paux of mine. 

Now I see… just how… unique you were-- the whole world didn’t have the faintest idea of just the sheer amount of bullcrap you had to endure everyday. Gosh I couldn’t even fathom being in your shoes, the fantasy alone proved heavy, and you had to do it all while looking more well adjusted and prim than Princess Diana during her divorce.

I’m sure you’ll be so divine in that revenge dress too.

I mean… you sort of knew you looked good in women's clothes, Is okay I like adventurous men… I’ll admit  I might've dressed you a couple times in my head… but don’t worry! It was all flattering.

Which in terms of flattering things… it's a shame that this is how you catch me, how we end this farce, this game of pretends... today you could be the cat… I wish at least I had the time to wrap up the plastic sheets, or wash all this off me.

I feel the weight hit my foot directly, I barely wince, but I’m not taking my eyes off of you, feeling wet bubbles and gurgles tickling my bare toes– all I want is to give you decades worth of misplaced attention to those red eyes of yours… I seen your face in a million different ways, but never had I seen it in such vivid technicolor-- There’s no red that can quite match your eyes… as they watch me from this eighteen story window, inside an apartment smaller than your closet (that’s New York city for you kids). I can admit to having fantasized being on the receiving end, it would be fitting for me, us.

This building is so loud, it overwhelms us both, but unlike you right now I don’t have to listen to the upstairs neighbors petty grievances, the next door lady wondering where her kid is at these ungodly hours, the stoner in the elevator, or the homeless man wondering if his dollar store hooch was tainted with something because right now there was the freaking Homelander hovering above him! So I listen to her… right at my feet… gargling… hacking… I didn’t cut deep enough, and we both can hear it… knife still in my hand, her mind is nothing but the flashing lights of a faraway train, it’s ever so silent as the train drives off, all she can think off is a trip to europe when she was a child, and the snow devoured the sun and the music, it was just her, the train, the snow and us now.

“‘Is not what it looks like?’ Is that what you want to say?”

yeah. I mean… Can I? I licked the knife clean as if it was residuals from an apple, trying not to roll my eyes at you.

“Evening… John… Homelander.” My hand is on the window latch letting the cold breeze in, your eyes suffocating me just like the bitch behind us…  I almost whimpered as they lost their candor giving me back blue moons– What brings you here?”

You points behind me, unable to believe I just said that, I give way for you.

Always staring at me– I want to hear your thoughts… for the first time in all my years of life I am yearning to listen, feeling every particle of my being falling apart as they're begging me to listen to your thoughts once more… but I can’t… Right now I’m in Finland, is winter, is cold-- everything you aren’t… because I am sorry… I pry so much.

The way you watch me isn’t undressing me further, I am mostly bare, just underwear and sweat and my soul too tainted for you to want to seek, I can’t make sense of that smirk on your lips that has only now begun to reach your eyes… this somehow has amused The Homelander, your laugh scares me far more than your ray-guns– are you mocking me!? No you…you wouldn't be, you’re gentleman after all, if you wanted to mock me… you would treat me like Miss Barrett, or Kevin.

I mean… I don’t want you to hate me. We are perfect for each other. We would be perfect… so just… let me… explain.

“Where do you like me to start?”

Your foot crushed the skull leaving it nothing but a gummy, clumpy pancake under your booth, sick of hearing it mope and cry for any longer it seems, you immediately threw your cracked phone at my feet.

“The beginning.” The Homelander growled.

[sukunasdirtylaugh]

love for Satoru is when you wash his favorite blanket. he’s fresh out the shower, it’s rainy and as he’s laying in bed you tuck him in his favorite blanket, warm, soft, and to him it doesn’t smell of flowers or lavender, but your love and warm smile he can feel ignite his being into something he now knows is love

[korshrimpski]

Since F1 suck at doing their job I might as well do it for them

May I present: F1 STORYLINES THAT THE PEOPLE (me) ACTUALLY CARE ABOUT

Ferrari: Leclerc vs Sainz

It is no secret that Carlos Sainz is out of a seat for 2025, and this will be his last year with the Scuderia many people are wondering how this 2024 season will pan out. Before the season starts many fans are already questioning what will happen. Will there be inner-team rivalry? Will Sainz ignore team orders? Will Leclerc be favoured (more than he usually is) and will Carlos be left on the waste side? We will have to wait to find out.

Mercedes: Hamilton vs Russell

Now we have the reason Sainz does not have a seat for 2025. In a shocking turn of events Lewis Hamilton is moving from Mercedes to Ferrari at the end of the 2024 season. This has left many fans excited but also questioning what will happen on track between the 2 teammates that have already come to blows last season. The main question on everyone’s mind is, “who will be favourited?” The man that won 6 championships with the German outfit or the man who is touted as the future of Mercedes.

Will the other teams catch up?

It is no secret that Red Bull dominated the 2023 season. And all the teams especially Ferrari, McLaren and Mercedes are now playing catch up. But will they even catch up? All the teams reference is the RB19 and not the RB20 that Red Bull spent last year developing. So will the RB20 be better than the RB19 and if so will teams catch up for the 2024 season (I hope the other teams catch up)

McLaren: Norris vs Piastri

Piastri had a rockstar rookie season getting two podiums and a sprint win. That has undoubtedly put pressure on Norris to perform. And of course Norris will be favoured but Piastri will only improve from the 2023 season. So McLaren will need to monitor both drivers and make sure they don’t come to blows on track.

The Back of the grid

Toro Rosso (RB), Sauder (Kick), Williams and HAAS made up the back of the grid last year. And many people are curious if any of them will improve. People expect Toro Rosso to improve as they are taking heavy inspiration from their sister team, Red Bull. But many people want to see where all these teams will finish at the end of the year.

The Red Bull Dilemma

Everybody knows Red Bull like revolving through driver. And this year will be no different. With Perez’ arse on the line and having to perform, at any moment Red Bull can take away his seat and give it to someone else. But who is in contention for that second Red Bull seat? Both Toro Rosso drivers are in contention, with both drivers also racing to stay in Formula 1, as Liam Lawson came in for 5 races (replacing an injured Ricciardo) and lit up the grid, and was promised a seat for 2025. But there are also outsiders who have been rumoured for that second Red Bull seat, with Alex Albon, Fernando Alonso and Lando Norris all rumoured.

Who’s going to get that second Mercedes seat?

There are a lot of people available for that second Mercedes seat in 2025; some of the people in contention are:

Alex Albon

Fernando Alonso

Carlos Sainz

Esteban Ocon

How is Fredrick Vesti not in this conversation?

Kimi Antonelli

It would not surprise me at all if Toto Wolff throws Mick Schumacher in the car

Doriane Pin (in another universe aka my ideal universe)

Will Lance Stroll have a seat in 2025?

Lance Stroll did not have a spectacular 2024 season with many people wanting him out of that Aston Martin seat and Felipe Drugovich to get the seat. But Lawrence Stroll owns Aston Martin so Lance can’t loose his seat. But wait theirs more to the story (😱) Aramco (Saudi Oiler Company) now own a stake in Aston Martin and if Lance Stroll doesn’t improve Aramco might have to force Lawance Strolls hand and kick Lance out.

[writereleaserepeat]

So, I finally dove back into some great writing by @peachy-panic after some chapter updates to their stories Do No Harm and Fifty-Eight Days. I really adore the setting and characters in Fifty-Eight days, and anonamously received the blessing to write some fanfiction, so I did! Spoilers for Fifty-Eight Days below the cut - please go read their work if you haven't already!

There's a nameless woman mentioned in the flashback that starts "Reconvergence," and I thought it would be interesting to see the rescue scene from a different point of view (and perhaps from the point of view of someone who is mostly lucid at the time). It's obviously a fan work, so there are some canon divergences and creative liberties just to make it flow, but I really love the characters and hope I did them a bit of justice.

Spoilers for Fifty-Eight Days by peachy-panic

TW: implied non-con, aftermath of non-con, nudity mention, strong language, kidnapping, blood mention, gore mention, violence mention

---

“You should be prepared for anything,” the Lieutenant Colonel had said. As any dutiful officer would, Eleanor Martin took those words to heart, and prepared as well as one could. Naievely, she thought she had prepared for anything. But that pre-mission briefing felt like a lifetime ago now that she was staring at the gore-soaked aftermath of the compound raid. 

Voss’s men had put up a fight, just as they had expected. The winding halls were lined with bodies of the nameless henchmen, grey brain matter collecting in puddles alongside skull fragments, crimson splattered up against the walls. Ivory paint was pock-marked with countless bullet holes, and the smell of gunpowder lingered alongside the pungent odor of copper. Death permeated every pore of her body. 

It hadn’t been hard to find Voss’s room, an elegant suite tucked away at the heart of the sprawling compound. He had thought himself a king, and the bedroom had clearly been built to reflect this sentiment. 

The only crown Voss wore now was a ring of liquid red. His eyes were already glossed over with the pallor of death, and he was gazing up at the ceiling with a permanent grimace etched in his leathery skin. For a man who had been hunted by authorities for years, a man turned into a monstrous specter that rivaled the devil himself, he seemed so small as he slumped lifeless against the bedroom wall with a bullet hole between his brows. 

But it wasn’t Voss that had seared an image in Eleanor’s mind when she entered the room. It was the two young men, the very ones they had also hoped to find in this place, caught amidst the gunfire and the chaos. Naked, soaked in blood, the whites of their eyes showing like frightened dogs. They hardly resembled the two photos that authorities had received six long weeks ago, but it was unmistakably the two missing missionaries. And amidst the flurry of uniformed men entering the room, it was clear that no one knew what to do with the surviving victims. Perhaps this was because they were never expected to be found alive. 

“Gordon, call the medics in,” Eleanor barked at her colleague. He nodded, shoving his pistol back in its holster before running out of the room. Eleanor tried to ignore the fact the other soldier looked as though he were about to be sick.

Movement caught her eye, and Eleanor turned her attention back to the victims. The boy she recognized as Grayson Dawning scrambled off the bed, his face stained with tears and blood, an expression of hopeless despair frozen in place. Alive. He was alive, unmistakably, honest-to-god alive. 

While finding both victims alive was better than any of the authorities involved had expected, Eleanor could already tell that survival was not a kindness to either of these young men. The near-catatonic one—Elijah—was still facedown on the bed and gagged. Even among the armed men reorganizing themselves to sweep the rest of the compound, his cloth-stifled soft sobs still filled the room with heart-wrenching pain. 

“You- you gotta help him,” Grayson mumbled as he staggered to his feet beside the bed, hands pulling at the cloth gag that was stuffed in Elijah’s mouth. Grayson didn’t seem to care that he was still exposed, burdened by the stench of sweat and sex across every inch of his skin. Eleanor’s stomach turned. 

Be prepared for anything.

“Easy, Mr. Dawning,” she murmured, unsure of what else to say. After all, what could she say? It didn’t take an expert or a medic to understand what they had stormed in on. 

Blood streaked down Elijah’s legs, across his face, all over the sheets of the bed. From the mass of wounds on his back and his thighs, it was hard to tell which injuries were fresh and which were just gnarled scars. But rather than attempt to stymie the bleeding, she took to pulling Grayson away, trying to get a handle on the situation until the medics arrived. 

“I’ll get that,” she promised as she nudged Grayson’s trembling hands away from Elijah’s head. The young man didn’t offer her any resistance as she carefully undid the knot buried within the unruly curls. She couldn’t help but wince as her own fingers shook, but soon the knot loosened, and the crude gag finally came undone. With as much caution as she could muster she eased it out of his mouth. 

“Elijah, please,” Grayson cried softly, his hands touching Elijah’s shoulder, trying to break through the fog that had overcome the younger of the pair. But as Eleanor could clearly see, Elijah’s eyes were unfocused, welling with tears, vacant but for the slightest spark of life. She wondered if he could even hear his companion at all. 

“Well, shit,” Adam muttered as he looked at the two boys on the bed, the medic suddenly having appeared at Eleanor’s side. He dropped the medical bag to the floor and began his usual procedures, pulling the zippers open to reveal his instruments and supplies. There was no mistaking the urgency with which the man had gotten down to business.

“Adam, this is Grayson and Elijah,” she said, gesturing to them each in turn. She wasn’t trained to interact with patients like Adam was, but the least she could do was give them a name to attach to a face. Maybe she hoped it would give them some comfort, ground them amidst the chaos that had just rained down. It just seemed like the right thing to do. 

She wasn’t even sure there was a right thing to do in a situation like this. 

“Hey, Elijah,” Adam said as he settled down by the bedside. “My name’s Adam, and I’m here to help you out.” Elijah didn’t respond, eyes still staring off into empty space, tears leaking freely in streams through the blood and grime. 

“Please, you have to help him,” Grayson said, pleading. “Please, Elijah, I’m so sorry. I’m- it’s going to be okay. I'm sorry.” It was impossible to miss how Grayson’s hand wrapped around Elijah’s, squeezing tight. Whatever they had gone through, they were the only ones that could understand each other now. 

“I’m checking your vitals now,” Adam continued, narrating his actions to Elijah softly beneath Grayson’s panicked chatter. “We’re going to start with your blood pressure and your heart. Eleanor, can you finish untying him?” 

Shit. Eleanor hadn’t even thought to undo the restraints binding the boy’s wrists. She made quick work of those so Adam could slide the blood pressure cuff around Elijah’s recently-released arm. Moments later the rest of the medical team arrived, two gurneys and more medical supplies in tow. 

“Yeah, we’ve got to load them up and get them out of here as soon as we can,” Adam said as he stood up to look at Eleanor, face taut with a newfound urgency. Whatever numbers the paramedic had pulled from his devices, they hadn't been good. “Our team will take Elijah here, and Joe’s team can take Grayson. We’ll take them both to the predetermined hospital, but it’s up to your folks to get the American authorities down there.” 

“Fuck, right, I’ll let the Lieutenant Colonel know,” Eleanor answered, reaching for her walkie-talkie on her belt. The fact that these boys were alive was going to spare something of an international incident. She was supposed to let the Lieutenant Colonel know as soon as there was any definitive contact with the boys, dead or alive. Somehow, that had slipped her mind upon seeing their condition, that scene she had walked in on. If word of what truly happened got to the press, she wasn’t sure it would be much better than if they had been found dead. 

After she made the call to her boss—yes, they were alive, and they were about to get brought out to the awaiting ambulances—she helped pull Grayson away from Elijah. This gave the other paramedics enough time to get to work on Grayson, running a rapid assessment of his vitals and responsiveness. As soon as he had lost contact with Elijah’s skin, Grayson seemed to disappear in much the same dissociative state. 

This older one of the pair, supposedly a group leader that had pursued Elijah after he went missing, was barely more lucid than his catatonic companion. And as Elijah was rolled out of the room on a stretcher, bodies cleared out of the way as they went, Grayson seemed lost in a fog. Eleanor kept her grip on his upper arm as he looked around like a lost child. 

“Where is he?” Grayson asked, panic renewed as he came back to himself, if only just. “Where did you take him?” He pulled himself from Eleanor’s grasp and stumbled towards the hallway, past the broken door, feet passing over the puddles of blood without hesitation. 

“Where is Elijah?” He called out into the nothingness as Eleanor and the other paramedics followed after him, prepared to intercept and bring him to a gurney of his own. 

“Mr. Dawning,” a shorter paramedic pleaded, “You need to sit down and let the medics look at you. We need to get you to the hospital.” 

It was obvious by the full-body tremors that Grayson wasn’t particularly amiable to that suggestion. Eleanor, not versed in the art of comforting, and without a maternal instinct in her body, again attempted to soothe. 

“It’s over now,” she said as she prepared to guide Grayson out of the winding compound. “It’s over, you’re safe.” He seemed to flinch when she reached for his shoulder again, so she drew her hand back. It would have to be enough to walk by his side. So she did, walking close by his shoulders, the paramedics rolling the gurney and their supplies a few paces behind. But she may as well have not even been there as they navigated the winding halls, Grayson still calling out Elijah’s name, eyes darting to every face they passed. 

Once they were outside in the driveway, washed in the bright white of industrial grade lights and the flashing of emergency vehicles preparing to depart, Grayson seemed to snap back into focus. Of course; it seemed that Elijah was about to be loaded into one of the waiting ambulances, his body atop a stretcher and draped in blankets. 

“Elijah!” Grayson cried out, voice cutting above the fray of uniformed officials trying to make some sense of the carnage that was unraveling inside the compound. From the chatter on Eleanor’s radio, it seemed that these wayward missionaries were not the only victims to be found in the recesses of Voss’s personal playground. More ambulances - and coroners - would likely be on their way in a matter of minutes. 

Grayson nearly tumbled to the ground as his foot caught on the edge of the gurney, but somehow the emaciated boy caught himself and continued to propel forwards towards Elijah. That spark of desperation pulled again at Eleanor’s heartstrings. She watched the paramedics try to ward Grayson off, refuse his entry into the ambulance, their faces stern. Even Adam seemed prepared to put his foot down and protect the patient in his stead.

For a moment, Eleanor was lost. She likely would never see these boys again, not in person. Perhaps on the news or in her nightmares. But even if she would never see them again, she would remember these moments for the rest of her life. Perhaps they would too. What kindness could she afford them now? 

“Let him,” she said, walking a few paces towards the waiting ambulance. “Let them go together.” 

One of the paramedics looked like he was prepared to argue, but Eleanor knew that her rank was visible on her chest patch. A short tilt of her chin and squint of her eyes was all it took to make them fold. 

As soon as wordless permission was granted, Grayson grabbed onto Elijah’s hand, both of their knuckles white. Fear still danced around them, but in the last few moments that Eleanor saw them before the doors closed, she knew she had made the right decision. Whatever awaited those boys in the future, and whenever they had to reckon with what she had glimpsed upon breaching that door, that would be saved for another day. For now, for these few short minutes before they were subjected to a thousand questions and countless doctors prodding at them, they would have each other. Maybe that would be enough.

[sugarsagecat]

What did he think when he first met her? Maybe surprised at how underwhelming she seemed. She was quiet and gentle, a woman with no depth or substance. Or so he thought at first.

As the days past, he noticed how much time and love she had to give. She wanted to know everything, about everyone. She wanted to know their areas of study and expertise as much as she wanted to know the name of their childhood pet. Everyone was fascinating to her, and worthy to be listened too and adored. She was cuddly and affectionate and generous in all her actions.

When she fought... He saw a glimpse of the shadows inside of her. A gnawing, hungry darkness that made her eyes glitter with a savagery so out of place on her normally kind face. There was little artistry in her fighting style, no grace or elegance. He began to understand why Cid sometimes referred to her as 'The Butcher'. Somewhere deep inside her soul and tracing faint lines across her muscles and skin, he could see a repressed joy at the violence. A celebration of her strength and power. It was rather exhilarating to witness.

But when the world was ending, how stoic and gentle and kind she remained. When his mind swirled with thoughts and memories not his own... He would suddenly realise she had quietly come to join him. Through the tumbling confusion she would sit beside him. Maybe she would be repairing armour, or reading through scrolls. She would always bring him something to eat. Make him drink hot black tea. She would sit so close he could count her eyelashes. As he did, he would find himself calming down. Refocusing on the problems at hand.

When he knew he had to leave, turn his back and hand the future to her, he had been surprised at her expression. Maybe, he thought, she would be angry, or throw an understanding smile his way. No. Her face had been a mask of pure fear.

When they met again on the First, it was clear that time had not been kind. Her face was hard and gaunt. One eye had been closed by an ugly scar that was healing poorly. She was taller and thinner than he remembered. She seemed to loom. A figure of shadow and danger.

When they reached the bottom of the Tower she had grown animated. 'Had there been someone in the Tower? A young man by the name of G'raha Tia?' 'Has anyone seen or heard of him?' 'I've been so worried about him. He went into the Tower alone back where I come from. He must have been so lonely. What if something had gone wrong and he was in pain?' Her face and voice were filled with panic.

No, he was not aware of anyone by that name being seen in the Tower.

Her whole body seemed to crumble. She looked up at the Tower, back across the Plaza and drew a shaky breath in. She squeezed her one good eye tightly shut. He saw now that the fear for his safety had never left her. Not fear for her own strange predicament. Not fear at what trials lay ahead for her. But fear for an old friend who might be suffering alone.

When she turned back to face him, she was cold and indifferent once more.

As time passed, he saw the Light begin to infect her. Saw it seep into her bones and stain her skin with white welts and blisters. He often strayed past her rooms at night and stood outside her door listening. Listened to her horrific sobs and gasps as she gagged and vomited up the burning white aether that had once been her organs. And always he would slip away. Shame causing his chest to twist up painfully till he could barely breath.

While the Light poisoned her something he had not expected happened. He had been wrong. Time had been cruel but it had not changed her. It had only stunned her. Soon she was talking to the city dwellers; listening to their stories. She would help out at the infirmary. Join Lyra on patrols. He even caught her mucking out the Amaro stables on more than one occasion.

And sometimes... Sometimes that warmth and kindness would be cast his way. He would bask in its glow, greedy for her attention. She would forget to be guarded and hostile and chat away. She would stand so close he could count her eyelashes.

He could not be distracted from his course of action. But in those moments, the pain would ease and new wells of resolve and strength would be found.

He would break her heart in the end. Prove her fear for G'raha Tia's safety had been correct.

That he would be doomed to suffer alone.

[burningtimetraveler]

Apparently this is a thing so here’s an introduction to my blog for the people who are interested.

I’m dawn and i currently reside in the middle of nowhere Canada

Uhhhhhh….. I don’t know what else (god I hope this is temporary)

Pronouns: guess lmao

Enjoy this hellhole of blog. Have a good day

And now I bid you adieu

I need sleep