#someone help moi

[stxrrynxghts]

Facts about Subhadra

Subhadra is one of my favorite characters of the Mahabharata. I have a somewhat different perception of her personality than most ppl do, but that is kind of fine. So, I am here to share some facts about our Yadava princess :D

According to Bhagavat Purana, Subhadra has 45 LIVING elder brothers. Vasudev apparently had more sons apart from Balarama and Krishna.

She is also said to have a full blooded elder sister, named Tara.

Subhadra is 19 years younger than Krishna is, according to Bhagvata Puran

So she is probably 20-21 years younger than Balarama, and 18 and a half year younger than Arjun

The Northern and Southern recension of the Mahabharata have somewhat different versions of her love story with Arjun. The northern version shows him abducting her, and in the southern one, their love story is very much elaborated.

However, in both, her consent is there, in the Northern one, she doesn't say anything while abducted, but is actually smiling when she returns, so she is most likely happy

And we all know, she and Draupadi had a lovely relationship together #sisgoals

Subhadra is directly related to Nakul's wife, Karenumati, as Karenumati's grandmother and Subhadra's father are siblings.

Speaking of grandmothers, Subhadra's grandma is Marisha, a descendant of Vasuki, through whom Subhadra's descendants have Naga blood.

Subhadra's marriage paves the way for the full blown Yadava-Pandava friendship imagine the Yadavas and their 50,000 relatives spending summer in Indraprastha

Since Subhadra is so young compared to her brothers, her sisters-in-law must have been very present in her childhood. why am I imagining baby Bhadra sitting in Balarama's lap during his wedding

Subhadra is mostly known for sleeping during the chakravyuha thing, but it is mostly folklore i.e. not present in any authentic versions (Correct me if I am wrong)

She is very heavily worshipped in Jagannnath Puri , and is perhaps the most widely worshipped female character from Mahabharata (Draupadi is worshipped in some parts of Tamil Nadu and Sri Lanka, Hidimbi is worshipped in parts of Himachal Pradesh and Uttara is worshipped in some parts of Rajasthan).

In authentic versions, she has only one kid, Abhimanyu, though certain folk tales show multiple children of hers.

Subhadra's mourning is very much highlighted in the aftermath of Abhimanyu's death (Which is a normal thing, Vyasa loves to delve into the mother/wife's pain after someone's death).

After the war, Yudhishthira handed over the kingdom to Yuyutsu, but also requested Subhadra to "take care" of Parikshit and Vajra oh god, she is probably the only one from the elder gen left apart from Yuyustu at that point

A folktale suggests that Arjun drowned Subhadra before leaving for the Himalayas, and I am sorry to say that I hate it a lot. Why you making my man commit uxoricide?

She most probably retired to the forest after sometime, and passed there only.

[nattousan]

when

whe you, when You were just trying to put i n some extra effort to try adn improve yoursel f and it got misinterpreted as malicious n u get yell ed at

[la-cocotte-de-paris]

I had a cute outfit on today but I cannot get enough of this nightgown, so I did a pre-nightime routine triptych

[nympippi]

Griffin Blake!! Is up next :D

Griffin in this au, is well…finally being seen. He has the friends he’s desperately wanted, the family that he’s dreamed of (sorta), and he gets a second chance at life.

Griffin also really likes books, specifically books about nature, and space but he’ll also read the occasional fantasy fiction book like the Magic Treehouse or Junie B. Jones. He just loves reading and learning new things, Griffin is also very perceptive, he can go unnoticed for a while and can watch people to see their patterns or even their secrets.

Out of all the boys, Griffin is the most happy with his situation. However he still does have trauma from his kidnapping,

He has reoccurring nightmares about him still being in the basement and still being dead. He has nightmares about Finney and the other boys abandoning him, and making him go back to being the kid nobody knew.

He refuses to go anywhere alone, if its not any of the boys or Finn walking beside him, he’s not going until they are. He’s a 10 year old kid, he’s clingy and anxious about dying again and losing everyone he loves and losing the life he has now.

Finney is almost always with him, never fully leaving unless Griffin isn’t trailing close behind because he knows that fear all too well.

Griffin also is a little self conscious about his big neck scar, so he asked Robin for a bandanna to cover it up and of course Robin obliged because he also tries to cover his up so he’s not going to deny Griffin that. Gwen made them all bracelets, for her, Finn, and Griffin. Each of their corresponding colors matching them.

[lavendersartistry]

hmmmm vampire hunter au-

[labyrynth]

it’s always “harassment is bad” and “wishing violence/death upon people is terrible” until it’s someone y’all don’t like or think is Bad. then it’s “they deserve it” and “they can’t take a joke”

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

I read that same fic earlier and I just straight up muted the person so their works don't show up for me anymore lmao

there was also another one like that posted yesterday because the person was mad at something qBad did a couple of days ago while not at all in his right mind and amnesiac, it was odd (not shitting on the person just confused and slightly concerned)

yeah there’s. a lot of misconceptions around qbad rn lmao. It’s one of the reasons Im so obnoxious about him, tbh, so that it’s not JUST the negativity that gets spread. He’s a really good target for the hate rn, because he has a smaller fanbase and his pvp playstyle + lore lead him to all that antagonizing during purgatory, and that gets vented out into fics.

It’s genuinely really interesting, the dichotomy that seems to exist between tumblr and twitter regarding him. Ive heard nothing but slander about bbh from twitter (again, he is not faking his illness, that is a lie), but he’s got a solid enough foothold on tumblr that ive seen more hate towards the fans that the cc, here. which makes sense, given how we take over the tag almost ever day when he logs on. genuine o7 to people who find that obnoxious but thats one of the reasons i overtag so much, for blocking purposes.

anyway i think all the bbh mischaracterization means that we just need to write about him more >:D please this is a call for more bbh centric fics from people who do not hate him/know a little bit about his lore. blease he’s such a fun pov to write i promise

[slimetutorialfan]

just had the pleasure of explaining the concept of BeReal to someone's grandpa sitting near me in the park because he saw me take one a few minutes ago and apparently he couldn't get it out of his head and felt the need to ask me if taking pictures of myself is a hobby to me

[hagfishviperfish]

eieudururururuffggh… it’s definitely along the lines of limerence. u think its fine when ur sitting together, it’s actualized that this is someone you could never be together with, and really he’s not all that glittering attractive in terms of someone you would want to be in a relationship with anyway. but then there’s the twofold dream of living with him, then wandering around a city aimless with the thought resounding “i love you so much please text me back”

i think it’s a sign of needing to reconcile something in myself but i don’t know what. i am left with these feelings that i do not know how to deal with. i desire him so much but he is not present. he never will be. it’s just how he is. i don’t know why he’s worth it in terms of my brain/heart. as i said, there are so many things about him that are extremely unattractive in terms of a relationship. This is a consequence of coming back into his life, but really this was happening anyway, in the past two years. it was so nice to just sit with him and not want for more, except i feel bad drawing him to speak to me but that’s fine

i don’t trust him with anything in the world, i feel that i don’t really know who he is, if he’s even a real person — but also that it’s so simple and he’s much more simple than i think. except it’s just that i don’t know. i can only assume and assume and theorize because he’s never around. i don’t know why i wish to know him specifically. Maybe it’s an ego thing. Maybe it’s an issue.

I had a dream that i think was a sequel to an existing dream but i dont know. It was like. I was adopted by the queen and king of england, they looked over me and raised me for a bit. And eventually i had to go back home to my mother. This dream was the sequel where I come back to see them again and see how every influence I had on their castle and lives and everything was stripped away and muttered about as ill-fashion— “oh, that old thing.” whereas i looked up to them so much, i was devoted and dedicated so much to them. they taught me how to dance, i taught the king jokes, things like so.

upon seeing all the ways i meant nothing to them I proceeded to have a breakdown in the dream, taking it out on them, everyone around me, tearing things down, playing into the ill worth they regarded me with by giving them something to be actually disgusted by.

My ex was there— he was there because he heard it was me, on the news, in the rumors, and came to witness. he was talking to people about me, telling them who i was and who he was, *defending* me. Which was crazy. So fond. but when i really think about it I think he was there because ultimately being the child of the queen of england and then coming back to see i meant nothing felt like what it was like to be in a relationship with him.

Why i am drawn to people i mean nothing to. I dont know. why their validation in my worth means so much. i dont know. why i see my worth through others. i dont know. this is what i need to reconcile in myself but. i don’t know. How. I even feel like its fine most of the time, but then i look up to someone and it all comes back.

I just wish he cared about me enough to come by. But he doesnt and i need to find someone who does. Thats the path i’m trying to take. It’s just sorrowful. What also overtakes me sometimes is that when he’s not there, he claims to be thinking of me. Stalking my twitter. Watching what i’m doing wherever. Songs that make him think about me. Which kind of makes it worse. All of that and it’s still not enough to draw him near. He was right in saying I am someone that needs someone to be there for me and it was hardly a kindness that he let go of me when saying that, especially considering the circumstances, but at least he could admit he was not that person. it’s this wish i have that i need to reconcile. the fact that it exists at all. I wish it could go away, I’ve been trying to make it go away, forcing it to by looking at all the facts and realities, but yet its still here, I don’t know how to change, I need to be strong

[miam0re]

The anxiety of figuring out what to do after you graduate fufuufuf Im not ready for the next chapter of my life

[belial-ex-tenebrae]

"I'm not gonna play, not gonna play,

Oh, no, I ain't like that!

Fuck it I'm a wildcat!

Baby, break my heart. Give all you got!

Don't ask why, why, why.

Don't be shy, shy, shy!

Is it Love or Lust? I can't get enough!

.

I'm not gonna change. Not gonna change.

Fuck it I'm a wildcat!

Baby, break my heart. Give all you got!

Don't ask why, why, why.

Don't be shy, shy, shy!

Is it Love or Lust? I couldn't care less!"

[kaiserin-erzsebet]

I would LOVE to hear more gripes about accuracy of portrayal of historical monarchies!!!

I have been wanting to do this for a while, because there is a lot that irks me. And this ranges across board from big budget period dramas to how people write royalty AUs, which means this isn't one specific thing I'm pointing at. And if it is helpful on a writing tips level, I'll be happy with that.

Long post under the cut:

Disclaimers:

I research 19th century European history, which has a lot of questions about what a monarchy is and why they continue to exist. That's the perspective I am bringing to this.

I probably shouldn't have to say this, but: this is not about modern monarchism. This is about history. I don't want to debate whether you think certain countries should continue to have their monarchs be public figures who are only nominally head of state.

The short version:

Monarchies are institutions. They are part of how the government functions and that should have implications for how someone writes them. A monarch is a person with a built in job that they were born into.

Monarchies are not all absolute. They can exist in a multiple forms with very different structures, and often discontent within a monarchy wants to reform the system not replace it.

My biggest advice would be this: figure out how your fictional or historical monarchy is structured. You don't have to exposit about it, but you do need to know it.

The long version:

The King has a job and there is a right and wrong way to do it.

Fantasy monarchies that draw upon history seem to have Versailles in mind in terms of an aesthetic space and royalty with a lot of power over the people around them. This also includes a lot of lounging around and looking pretty and doing lavish things. However, the issue is that this is a mental image of the dysfunction in the French monarchy close to the revolutions. You can't "Après moi, le déluge" through several centuries of government.

A King (or Queen) has a job, a really important one. They are the head of state, the highest authority in the country, and the highest judge on legal matters. At least in the platonic ideal of absolute monarchy, those jobs being concentrated into one person means their responsibility and good judgement will give the state stability and consistently.

Enlightened absolutism was exactly that: monarchs staunchly holding onto the ideals of the Enlightenment and making reforms from the top down. People who read texts about ideal government and natural rights and put it into practice.

A lot of fiction takes that and goes: Oh, so they have unlimited power and can do whatever they want. Being king means you can do what you want without oversight? That's why someone would want to be king?

And yeah, sure, in theory. But the problem with having a job is that you can do it poorly and people will object to you doing it poorly. If someone is not fulfilling obligations, it is noticeable because the state functions poorly. The premise of Robin Hood is that the king is doing his job poorly. He's overtaxing, the officials are corrupt, there's disorder. The solution? Bring back the true king who is good and fair, and thus functional.

Ludwig II of Bavaria gets ousted from his throne for being more interested in opera and extravagant building projects than ruling. Again, it is a problem and people notice.

Historically, if you want to protect from someone being bad at the job you can support the idea that there should be more oversight and safeguards: Other bodies that control parts of the government alongside the king's ability to approve or disapprove. This tactic takes away the ability to be arbitrary since laws and such are not just coming from the crowned head of state. That would be a constitutional monarchy.

Not everyone needs to be Franz Joseph, waking up at the crack of dawn and working on governmental papers and meetings until bedtime. However, if a monarch is shown in fiction lounging around or talking to courtiers all day but never doing any actual governing, I'm going to assume they are very bad at their job.

2. You're probably understanding Courts and Ministers wrong.

I run into the issue quite a bit that courts are flattened to random servants, ladies-in-waiting, and people trying to be the king's sole advisor (for malicious power grabbing reasons).

The first problem: Being at court isn't an easily accessible thing. You're probably nobility or a scion of an important family. Your presence is built on family prestige and your own skill. Yes, even people in service to the monarch. There are no random people here, because proximity heightens the likelihood of greater promotion.

For example, I'm currently doing my research on a prince from an important dynasty in the 19th century. His secretary is a Baron.

It's not impossible for someone not of noble birth to get to be at court. They could have risen up the ranks of the army or be an exceptionally skilled civil servant promoted to the rank of minister. Though depending on the time period, expect these "new men" to get pushback from nobility by blood.

Ministers also matter.

Unless your fictional monarch is one of the few people who decides (to mixed results) to do all of the thinking about government on their own, there is a cabinet and ministers.

These are skilled people whose job is to think about aspects of government and be knowledgeable about them. A monarch might have many of them that argue and balance each other.

Or, you can write a particularly skilled statesman in a leading role that makes them just as prominent as the monarch if not more so. There are many historical examples of ministers who define their period:

If your monarch character isn't a strong person politically, but is intelligent, having them find a minister to take over most of the governing is a good idea. This person is promoted based on merit, even if the monarchy is hereditary.

I have rarely if ever seen fiction do a good job with a prominent minister as a character (except A Royal Affair, which everyone should watch).

Think of monarchies as whole institutions of government. They have people within them who do all the jobs of governing. But the structure of the government and the personality of the monarch can determine whether it is one person (Joseph II, Peter the Great, etc.), a prominent minister (like a Metternich or Bismarck) or a counsel or congress.

The structure can support a person not doing a lot as monarch, but you as a writer need to think what structures are around them allowing that.

3. Revolutions are scary.

There is a common trend in fiction to make your good guys pro-republic. They're revolutionaries who want to get rid of the king, so they must be good.

But here's the thing: Revolutions are a step into the unknown and have historically happened rather rarely and with very mixed results. That's because the system has to be really broken for something totally new to sound better than what you already have.

A monarchy can create a sense of stability: A fixed head of state who will be there until they die. Historically, people aren't seeking to change that. More often, the call is for a change within the existing structure. The Magna Carta or a written Constitution. Firing of Bad Ministers or the abdication of a bad king in favor of their heir. Creating elected bodies under the sovereign. These are all shifting the monarchical paradigm but keeping the monarchy intact.

And historically even the most liberal of people wanted to place restrictions of some sort on voting, especially property and gender restrictions.

There is a myriad of ways to change the system, the person at the top, or both while maintaining a monarchy. You can have a monarchy be elected as the best person among the nobility (though it didn't go that well for the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth).

Completely throwing the whole thing out means risking all stability vanishing. That could be anarchy. That could mean a charismatic strongman who is also bad at governing in power. You could end up with a guillotine and rivers of blood in the streets. You could end up with a restoration eventually because Cromwell or Robespierre doesn't actually produce something people want to live under and they want the old certainty back.

People have a sense of inertia about changing government. What you have is better than what you don't know, especially if there can be internal reform. Making your character a Republican (in the Jacobin sense, not the US politics sense) means that they are a radical in most times and places and will likely be in the minority.

If there is one thing I would say is the point here is that monarchies are government systems, and thinking through how someone exists in that system in fiction is important. Being king isn't actually much of a fun job unless you're very good at delegating or very irresponsible. Unless you want to be celebrity, president, congress, and moral center of the state all in one, being king isn't a great deal.

[little-mari-on-a-roof]

Frenglish differences in Miraculous - Episode 1

Stormy Weather/Climatika

Alya to Marinette

En: You're just a pushover, Marinette.

Fr: Tu te fais mener par le bout du nez, Marinette

This one is hard to translate. Literally, it would be "you're getting led by the tip of the nose", but it basically means that Manon has her twisted around her little finger. To me "pushover" sounds a bit harsher from Alya.

In French, Alya calls Manon "asticot", which means worm or maggot. It's an affectionate nickname (I swear) used for little kids who move and twist around a lot. (She says “small fry” in English.)

Vincent (the photographer) to Adrien

En: Come on now, I want to see hunger in your eyes.

Fr: Je veux sentir le soleil se coucher dans tes yeux.

I want to feel the sun set in your eyes.

Vincent to Adrien

En: And now, you have to eat the spaghetti off of the floor.

Fr: Tu es surpris, oui, la surprise.

You're surprised, yes, [play] the surprise.

Who translated that to English I just wanna have a talk.

This one is just a language thing but in French, baby doll eyes are referred to as "yeux de petit chat", which means kitty eyes.

Chat Noir to Stormy/Climatika

En: What's with all the terrorising? Why don't you pick up on someone your own temperature?

Fr: Ton arrivée a jeté un froid. À cause de toi y'a plus un chat dans le quartier.

Your arrival cast a chill. There's not a soul (lit. not a cat) in the neighbourhood because of you.

In french, "there's not a cat out there" is a saying meaning the place is empty, and a pun coming from Chat Noir.

Chat Noir, after Ladybug helps him get up

En: Why thanks, m'ladybug, but I had it covered.

Fr: C'était voulu, ma lady, pour le plaisir de te retrouver.

It was on purpose, my lady, for the pleasure to see you again.

This is probably one of the prime examples of the reason a lot of people prefer the french dub over the English one: Chat Noir’s sweet and charming line in French got turned into a more dismissive one in English.

And her reply

En: No time for your childish charm, Cat Noir. But you're welcome.

Fr: Dis donc, c'est pas le moment de jouer les charmeurs, Chat Noir. Un merci aurait suffit.

Hey, now's not the time to be a charmer, Chat Noir. A "thank you" would've been enough.

Chat Noir

En: A little Cat Noir will take the wind out of her sails.

Fr: La miss météo elle commence à me hérisser le poil.

This weather girl is starting to rub me the wrong way. (lit. "ruffle my hair" as in cat hair, but it doesn't make much sense in English and translating it to "ruffle my feathers" would defeat the point of the pun.)

Here they changed the cat pun into a weather pun.

Ladybug about Stormy weather/Climatika

En: Maybe she's got some unresolved anger issues.

Fr: C'est moi ou elle a un caractère un peu orageux?

Is it me or does she have a stormy character?

A weather pun that got lost in translation.

[alotofpockets]

A change of plans | Lotte Wubben-Moy x Reader

5k celebration prompt: "I should've called."

Warnings: foster care, past parental death, mention of drug abuse

Woso masterlist | Words: 3k

-----

Today was your two month anniversary with Lotte. While it was only two months, you wanted to do something special. Usually when the two of you would get together, it was a restaurant or activity. On the rare occasion that you decided to hang out at someone’s place, it had been at Lotte’s. 

That is why you had invited her over for dinner at your place tonight. It was only fair that she got to check out where you lived as well. Your plans were nothing fancy, just cooking a nice meal for her and maybe watching a movie after. Yet, you were buzzing with excitement as you entered the store.

You were walking down the first aisle of the store when your phone rang. “Hi Michelle, it’s been a while.” You say while answering the phone and stepping to the side. “Hey, yeah the only type of call where that is a positive thing.” She jokes.

Michelle was the caseworker at Child Protective Service you had been working with for a few years now. You were a foster parent, and were mainly helping out with emergency placements. 

“I’ve got two kids who need a place to stay. A six month old boy and an eight year old girl. They are siblings, and despite the age difference, I don’t want to split them up. Is there any way you can take them in for a few days?” 

There wasn’t a moment of doubt in your mind, you would never turn down a child in need. “Yeah, of course.” You knew not to ask too many questions about their past, because Michelle would let you know when she would bring over the kids. “I’m at the grocery store right now, so I will pick up some things. Should be back home in about an hour.” 

“Great, thank you. I will grab the kids and pack some of their stuff. We’ll see you in a bit then.” Michelle hung up the phone and you quickly changed your grocery run for dinner into a quick shopping spree for children’s necessities.

You had a few basics at your place like toothbrushes, toiletries, and some toys, but you hadn’t had a baby in a long time. So, you grabbed the necessities for both their ages, knowing that once they were there, you could always get more if needed. 

Once you’ve got everything you thought you needed, you rush back home to get your place ready. Making sure the bedroom is fully set up, getting the toiletries out from the cupboards, and getting the boxes with stuff out for their ages.

Over the years you’ve learned what kids of certain ages like, which was always a huge help in preparing when a new child would arrive. Just as you were making your final touches, the doorbell rang.

You quickly made your way over to the door, but completely froze once you saw Lotte stand on the other side of it. Shit, in your haste you had completely forgotten to call her. Her bright smile faded slowly into confusion when she saw your expression. “You look like you weren’t expecting me. Did I get the time wrong?”

“No no, you’re right on time.” You say after looking at your watch. “I- eh, something came up and I should've called, but I completely forgot.” 

Lotte put her hand on your arm. “It’s alright, take a breath.” She stepped into your home and closed the door behind her. “What’s going on? Is everything alright?” Lotte asked as she pulled you down onto the couch.

“Yes, everything is alright. Just, well. Okay there is something I haven’t told you before.” You started getting nervous now. “I’m a foster parent. Mostly kids who need an emergency placement, so always very last minute. Like today, I got a call that two kids needed a placement, so I was getting everything ready, but I forgot to call you. And I was going to tell you about me being a foster parent. I just haven’t had a placement for a while, so yeah I hadn’t gotten to it yet. I promise I wasn’t trying to hide this from you.”

Finally you allow yourself to look at Lotte, who just looked at you in awe. “Wow, that is such an amazing thing. I fully understand that the rush of getting everything ready for their arrival came with forgetting to call. When are they getting here?”

Before you answer her question, the doorbell rang again. “That must be them.” You say as you make your way to the door again. This time when you open the door it is Michelle. She was holding a baby carrier in one hand and the girl's hand in the other. She was hiding behind Michelle’s legs, trying to observe her surroundings from a safe distance. 

You crouched down to her level. “Hi, my name is y/n and this is Lotte.” You point to where Lotte was sitting on the couch. “I’ve known Michelle for a long time, did she tell you that?” The girl responded with a shake of her head. “When I was about your age, she was my caseworker too. She took really good care of me and helped me find a nice place to live.” The girl slowly stepped away from behind Michelle’s legs. 

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” You asked when she seemed to get more comfortable. “Lauren.” You smiled, “That’s a beautiful name. I have a bedroom for you and your brother, can I show you?” She nodded. “Alright, let me grab your bag, and then we can go upstairs to check it out.”

You take the bag that Michelle is holding out for you. “Thanks Michelle. Oh and this is my girlfriend.” Lotte reached out her hand, “I’m Lotte, nice to meet you.” Michelle shakes it and sets the baby carrier down on the table. “I’m gonna show Lauren her room, but please make yourselves at home.”

After showing Lauren where everything is and placing her things to the side, so she can decide what she wants to do with it, you ask if she wanted to come back downstairs or if she would like to stay in her room. She picks the latter, which was of course fine by you. “Alright, I’ll be downstairs if you need anything, okay?” Lauren nodded, and you took that as your sign to give the girl some space. 

When you came back downstairs, Lotte was gently rocking the baby, and Michelle was sitting on the couch sipping on a cup of coffee. 

As you walked back into the living room, you found Lotte gently rocking the baby. The sight warmed your heart. A calm moment in the not so calm hour or so you’ve had. Lotte looked up and smiled, her soft expression confirming that she was on board with you being a foster parent.

“His name is Levi,” Michelle said, setting her coffee down on the table to grab the kids their file. “Their mom was admitted to the hospital yesterday after an overdose. She’s had a hard time since Lauren’s dad passed a few years ago. Levi’s dad isn’t in the picture, no one on file either. Luckily the kids weren’t home when it happened, but we did tell Lauren that her mom wasn’t doing well.”

You nodded along, it was alway tough to hear what kids had been through, but knowing their background was necessary to take care of them well. “Do you know much about Lauren? What she likes or what might help her feel comfortable?”

“She didn’t speak much on the way over, but I did notice her face light up when we drove past the football stadium.” Michelle answers. “Emirates Stadium?” Lotte questioned. “Yeah, that’s the one!”

You and Lotte share a look. “She’s a football fan,” you say, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “I think we can work with that.”

Content with that knowledge, Michelle stands. “I should get going. I’ll check in tomorrow to see how everything’s going.” She looks at you with a grateful smile. “Thank you again for doing this. And Lotte, it was nice to meet you.” 

You get up and walk her to the door. After discussing a couple more small details, you wave her off and close the door behind her. Just as you were about to turn back into the living room, you heard Lauren creep down the stairs. 

“Hi sweetheart, do you want to come join us?” The girl timidly nods her head. “Awesome, come on. Levi is right in there with Lotte. I will be right there.” You head into the kitchen to grab something to drink for her and yourself before you join them.

You walk back into the living room, drinks in hand, and find Lauren sitting next to Lotte, who is still gently rocking Levi. The sight makes you smile.

“I heard from Michelle that you got excited when you passed Emirates Stadium,” you say, handing Lauren her drink. Her eyes light up slightly, though she remains quiet. “Do you like football?” She nods her head.

“Do you like Arsenal?” She starts smiling wide. Seemingly happy that someone knew about the team. “Yeah.” You smile back at her, glad that you found something that might help her feel more comfortable. “Did you know that Lotte plays for Arsenal?”

The girl's mouth falls open and she moves her eyes towards Lotte. “Really?” Lotte nods, “Yeah, I’m a defender. You recognized the stadium, does that mean you’ve been there before?” 

Lauren nods again, “Yeah, with my daddy. He liked football too. Mommy doesn’t, but sometimes I can watch a game on the tv at my friends house.” It was the most she had spoken so far, but you didn’t want to linger on that too much, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.

“Lotte has a game there tomorrow. Would you like to go and see it at the stadium?” The girl froze with widened eyes, as if she was not expecting to ever go back to the stadium. “Can I?” 

You nodded, “Yeah. We can do whatever you want to do while you’re here with me.” The girl started nodding slowly. “Can I see Arsenal then?” This time Lotte chimed in. “I’ll do you one better. We can head in early, you can meet the whole team.”

With that plan set, Lotte asked if Lauren wanted to kick the ball around in the backyard. Hoping that staying on the topic of football would keep her comfortable. Lauren said yes immediately. Playing with a player from your favourite club, who would say no to that?

Lotte handed Levi to you, and went to her car to grab a ball from the trunk. You had learned by now that Lotte didn’t go anywhere without a football, which you thought was really cute. When she returns and Lauren is excitedly waiting by the backdoor, you mouthed a thank you her way.

While they were out in the backyard, you started making a simple meal in the kitchen. According to Michelle, there weren’t any allergies that they were aware of, so you went with an easy pasta recipe, that most kids you’d had so far, had enjoyed.

After dinner, you brought Levi to bed. Lauren didn’t want to leave him alone in the room, so she asked if she could stay there and continue reading the book she had been reading earlier. One of the books you had laid down on her bedside table earlier. 

Levi was already nodding off, so you said that she could. With her teeth brushed and pajamas on, she laid down into bed, ready for when she was tired. You clicked on the nightlight. “If you need anything, I am going to be right downstairs, okay?” She nodded. “And if I’m asleep, you can also come knocking on my bedroom door. Second door on the left.” When she nodded again, you smiled. “Alright, goodnight sweetheart.” She smiled back, “Goodnight.”

When you get back downstairs, you plop down on the couch next to Lotte. “I am so sorry about the change of plans today. Please let me make it up to you with a redo-date?” Lotte takes your hand in hers. “We can have a redo-date, but only because I want to go on more dates with you, not because we did something different today. While it wasn’t at all what I was expecting when I rang your doorbell, I had a great time.”

“That means a lot honestly. Also, thank you for sticking around. Not just for me, but I think it did Lauren really good. Plus you were so good with Levi, I can’t believe you got him to stop crying instantly.” 

Lotte smiles, “Being a footballer and auntie has its perks. Speaking of Lauren, I texted the girls, some of them are able to come in early and meet with her before the game. I also wanted to ask if it would be okay if I got her a jersey to wear to the match?” 

“Yeah, I think she would love that. Just tell me how much it is, and I’ll pay you back for it.” She quickly shook her head, “No need, I want to get it for her.” It took some convincing, but eventually she got you on the same boat.

Then Lotte got a serious look on her face. “I know we haven’t been together for long, so if you don’t want to talk about this, please let me know. But, you told Lauren that Michelle was your caseworker as well, is that the reason you became a foster parent?”

You sat up straighter before you answered. “Yeah, as a kid I was moved around quite a bit. I had a different caseworker before, but after a couple bad houses, they put Michelle on my case. I know what a bad house is like, and I wanted to do my part in bettering the homes available. Got my license as soon as I was allowed and have been fostering kids ever since.”

Back then you hated talking about foster care. There were homes that ruined your childhood, but eventually Michelle had found you a great home, the home that became your forever home. Now the topic came easier for you, and you didn’t mind talking about it. Not even with Lotte, although you had been nervous about when you were going to have to tell her you were a foster parent, but after how today went, you realised that those nerves weren’t necessary. 

The two of you continued talking until Lotte had to head home. With her match tomorrow, it meant an early night. So, you said your goodbye’s, and would see each other the following day at the Emirates.

The next day when you’re driving up to the Emirates, you see the exact look on Lauren’s face that Michelle had mentioned. You smiled at the moment too, happy to see that despite going through a hard time, she was happy being here.

When you got inside, Lotte greeted you with a gift bag in hand. “I’ve got something for you.” She said to Lauren once she had walked the three of you inside. Lauren looked into the bag and her face lit up again. An Arsenal jersey and a jacket. She asked if she could wear it right away, and Lotte showed her to the bathroom where she could change, while you laid out a blanket for Levi to lay on in the room. 

When Lotte came back with a beaming Lauren, you knew that her day had been made before the match had even begun.

“I was gonna do some doodling before the girls got here, want to join me?” She said, holding out a big piece of paper and some markers. Lauren hesitated at first, but when Lotte sat down on the floor and laid the paper out, she gave in and sat down with her. 

Lauren’s shyness faded away, the more that they were chatting and colouring together. Such a simple activity, yet what it did for the girl was major. 

You watched as one by one the Arsenal players began arriving. Greeting Lotte and then crouching down to meet Lauren. They all gave her a moment of time before they headed to the locker room. Asking her about her favourite players, and telling her where they played on the field. You could see Lauren’s confidence grow with every interaction, her eyes sparkling as she was talking to them.

When it was time for the match, you sat down in the front row seats that Lotte had gotten you. The excitement that Lauren had while watching the game was contagious and soon you found yourself cheering and yelling along.

After the match, Lauren got to take pictures with all of the players, including Lotte, who had promised her a picture. Before you headed home, Lotte said she had one more surprise. 

When she came back from the locker room, she was holding the jersey she was wearing before. It was filled with signatures and messages from the girls on the team. Lauren couldn’t believe her eyes. “Thank you so much.” She said while hugging your girlfriend tight. 

That evening, Lauren wouldn’t stop talking about the match, and you knew you had done something right. Well, Lotte had. When you were putting Lauren to bed, she gave you a hug. “Today was the best day ever.” Your heart melted. “I’m glad you had fun.” You said hugging her back.

Back downstairs you wanted to message Lotte about what Lauren had just said, but she had texted you first.

Lotte: Thank you for letting me be a part of today. You’re amazing. Not just for opening your home and your heart for these kids, but for the way you care for those around you. Goodnight ❤️

You: You’re too kind. Thank you for making today so special for Lauren. She just told me that today was the best day ever. You’ve given her an experience she will never forget. And I won’t either, thank you. Goodnight ❤️

-----

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[wosoloml]

red string theory || lotte wubben-moy x reader

summary: the first time you see lotte wubben moy, you didnt actually see her.

your life was always connected because you are meant to be.

warnings: none, just fluffy fluff with my lotte girl

from this request

a/n: i hope its okay what i wrote it about lotte because i thought this request is so lotte coded

wc: 1,739 words

"Are you nervous about tomorrow?" my work colleague, who is also my best friend, Jules, looks at me with a focused expression.

A few years ago, I attended college in the USA, where I ran my own sports blog for the university newspaper. I especially enjoyed writing about the women’s football team because I witnessed the sport gaining more popularity there.

It felt so empowering to see how all the girls were following their dreams, and I always wanted to share their stories so everyone could see their passion.

I was packing all my work stuff into my bag when Jules called out my name.

"Y/N, can you please help me real quick?"

I sighed but stopped what I was doing and walked into the salesroom.

"Can you make a latte macchiato real quick? Table 7 has a big order, and I’m swamped. Sorry for interrupting you," she said.

I smiled softly at her before glancing at the girl who had ordered the latte. I barely registered her, only noticing how graceful her movements were.

It felt kind of ironic that my last customer of the day would be such a mysterious woman.

But life moved on, as it always does, and that moment faded into the countless fleeting, insignificant encounters you never expect to think about again. Until much later.

----

"Oh my girl, Jules, you made it!" I pulled her into a tight hug.

"Of course! It's your graduation today! I'm so proud of you, my little nerd."

After three years of hard work, endless studying, and way too much crying, I’m finally done. I’m now a certified sports journalist with a focus on women’s football. I couldn’t be happier.

"Now it’s time for you to introduce me to your girlfriend! I can’t wait to meet the mysterious Alessia in person."

Her smile grew even wider as I mentioned her girlfriend. "Come on, she’s right over there, chatting with an old friend from university she randomly ran into here."

----

I’ve checked my phone. 8:00. I arrived at the training ground of THE Arsenal Women’s Football Club.

When I sent my application to a few football clubs as a media coordinator, I never thought my childhood club would hire me. I spent the last few days looking for an outfit and stayed awake the whole night out of nervousness.

It’s already my second week, and I’m still not used to being around all these inspiring and energizing women. You weren’t exactly starstruck, but there was something about being around people you’d admired from afar that left you feeling slightly unsteady.

But it’s different with Lotte. From day one, she helped me with everything. Lotte, however, had a way of disarming you with her easy demeanor. When she introduced herself, it was as if you hadn’t spent the last three days binge-watching match highlights featuring her perfect tackles and precise passes.

Over the weeks, you got used to seeing her around the training ground. She always made an effort to say hi, even if it was just a quick wave or a casual “How’s it going?” Each interaction was brief, professional, and—you told yourself—entirely inconsequential. Except that, somehow, you found yourself looking forward to them.

She had this smile and the way she cared about everyone around her that sticks in my mind, and I can’t stop thinking about her even after work. It’s like we’ve known each other for years.

---

Today was Media Day, and even though I love the girls, I was relieved to have a moment for myself in the cafeteria. Suddenly, someone asked, 'May I join?' At first, I didn’t realize they were talking to me, but when my eyes met my favorite defender's, I knew Lotte was the one addressing me.

'Not at all,' I replied, gesturing to the empty seat.

I don’t want to admit it, but knowing I wasn’t paired up with Lotte for today’s interviews made me a bit sad. That’s why I’m even happier to spot her here during my little break.

She set down her tray, which held a steaming bowl of soup and a sandwich that looked far too healthy for my taste. 'So, how’s life in the media world? Still surviving?'

I chuckled at her words. 'It’s going well. After today, I have a lot of videos to edit, and I still write a blog for a college newspaper, with the deadline coming up, so I’m a bit stressed. The time difference with the USA makes it even harder. But who am I complaining to? I’m sure your schedule is even more packed.' I babbled, feeling a bit embarrassed that I hadn’t stopped talking. It was just a simple question—no need to turn it into a whole essay.

She listened closely the entire time, trying to keep up with me. "Really? You’re very ambitious about your job. I like that. You mentioned the USA. Are you writing for an American college?"

I felt seen, and it made me feel special. I adore her so much. I gathered my thoughts again to answer her.

"Yes! I went to the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill and have always had a passion for writing. They had a women’s football team that was still in its early stages. They inspired me so much that I decided to write about them in the weekly college newspaper. Sorry for beating around the bush, yes, I write for an American college." My cheeks turned red because, once again, I rambled on.

I noticed the sudden change in her behavior. "Wait, really?" She looked at me, kind of stunned and questioning. "I’ve been to UNC too, before signing professionally for Arsenal. Do you mean the North Carolina Tar Heels? I played for them while you were writing for them."

I widened my eyes in disbelief. "That caught me off guard—wow. We’ve been so close and never talked to each other."

“It’s like we were orbiting each other,” she said one day, her voice thoughtful. “Like we were always meant to meet, but the timing just wasn’t right.”

Her words stuck with me, replaying in my mind long after she’d said them.

---------

Over the next few weeks, sometimes Lotte would bring me a coffee. A few days later, I noticed something as she handed me the cup. "Since when do you get your coffee from that shop near Covent Garden? The one with the green awning?" She looked confused and stuttered, "Since forever. It's my favorite coffee shop. Do you know it?"

"Are you joking? I worked there a few years ago."

“I can’t believe this. It’s like we’ve been circling each other our whole lives.”

This connection with Lotte feels so magical, I can’t even process how life always seemed to bring us together.

“Maybe it’s fate,” you said softly, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

She smiled, a slow, knowing smile that made your heart skip a beat. “Maybe it is.”

-------

As the weeks turned into months, your relationship with Lotte continued to grow stronger. The bond you shared deepened, built on a foundation of shared history and the undeniable pull you felt toward each other.

One evening, as you sat on her couch with a cup of tea in hand, she reached over and intertwined her fingers with yours.

“You know,” she said softly, her voice quiet, “I’ve always believed in timing. That everything happens when it’s meant to.”

You looked at her, your heart full. “And what about us? What does this timing mean?”

She smiled, her eyes warm and steady. “It means we’re exactly where we’re supposed to be.”

And for the first time, you believed her.

[authorsofghosts]

Jazz 'n Beignets | Gambit x Reader

Summery: Remy decided there's no better place to bring his love on Valentine's Day than his ol' stomping grounds. The jazz, the food, everything about it speaks that good old fashioned love to him.

Themes: Already Established Relationship, Fluff, light Angst (sorry not sorry), Food, Kissing, Lovey Dovey Gambit, New Orleans written by a Louisianian, Remy written by a Louisianian.

Word Count: 1.1k

"Non, non cher, come on." He murmurs against your skin, pulling you from the bathroom as you stared at yourself in the mirror. "Y're already magnifique, mon amour. No need ta spruce yaself up no mo'."

"But, Rem," You start, but are cut off by his lips pressing against yours. The man can't keep his mouth off of his lover. He turns you around, holding you close.

"Don't care, cher. Y're perfect just da way ya are." He murmurs against your lips, "Now let's get goin before they run out of beignets."

"Are they gonna be as good as yours?"

"Better, if you lemme find da right place." He smirks, pulling you out the motel room, placing a kiss on your knuckles. Or two, or four, as you walk down the metal stairs to his car.

You can't help but be absolutely infatuated with how much he loves you, never taking his eyes off you, always having his lips pressed against any part of you they can reach. It's not just out of love, but pure dedication. He doesn't understand what he did to have you love him, just a rough around the edges Cajun Rogue that didn't get up to no good before he joined the X-Men.

He opens your door, pressing a kiss to your temple before making sure you're buckling up and closing the door. He makes it around to the driver side in no more than five steps, quick to hop in and start the car.

The radio blasts with some local classic rock station, and Remy smiles wide as he looks over at you. You groan slightly as you realize what song is playing.

"I wanna know what love is-" is all that Rem out before you punch his arm, "Ow, ow, alright, no need for violence, cher."

You laugh shaking your head and rubbing your hand slightly, his muscles are solid and hard, shooting a slight pain up your arm. "Whatever, let's go before you decide to become a start a cover band."

"Naw, ya don't like my singin'? Not what you said a few nights ago, mon amour." He purrs, pulling out of the parking lot. Your cheeks heat up at the memory of you both drunkenly singing karaoke on the drive down to Louisiana.

"You know you can't trust the opinions of someone under he influence, Remy."

"Non, but dey say 'Drunk words are sober thoughts, yah?"

You grumble, knowing he's right. You do like his singing, but not when your stomach was eating itself alive. Leaning against the car window, you stare out at the sidewalks of New Orleans. Finally, Gambit pulls over and cuts the engine, getting out and opening your door. "Cafe Beignet, mon amour." He says, pulling you as close as humanly possible.

"Cheesy." You murmur against his lips.

"Ya, almost like giving a handsome devil like moi da last name dat means handsome... oh wait." He smirks. chuckling softly before chauffeuring you inside.

You enter, the sound of live jazz fills the room around you, making you grin from ear to ear. You get a basket of beignets and sit across from Gambit as he sips on his black coffee. "We can get mo' if you like em too much, cher."

You look at him, eyes wide as he stares at you shoving the last bite into your mouth, other hand already reaching out for another. You swallow, a tint of blush on your cheeks that spills to the tips of your ears. "Well, uh... maybe..." Your mumble before taking a bite of your next beignet.

He chuckles, shaking his head as he sips his coffee. You both sit, taking in the atmosphere of jazz and the electric tension between you both, staring into each other's eyes. You're still not used to just how much you love him, and have. Especially not how much he loves you.

You didn't do anything to deserve a caring, handsome man like him. He's almost too caring, almost worshiping your every step. It's nice, but some days it's a little too much.

You're ripped from your thoughts as you feel his fingers interlock with yours, thumb rubbing the side of your palm. "Cher?"

"Mhm?" You prompt, looking back at him, not even realizing your head had slowly turned down as you got lost in thought.

"Ya good, sugar?" He asks, voice dripping with concern and admiration. "You seemed a lil in ya head. Whatcha t'inkin', mon amour?"

"Ah, nothing. Just... you." You laugh softly, bringing his hand up to your lips and pressing a kiss to it, mirroring his earlier action. You feel him slightly tense as your lips press against his rough, scarred and calloused hands. He quickly relaxes, letting out a breath that he didn't even know he was holding.

He pushes the basket of beignets to the side as well as both of your cups and looks at you head on. "You thinking bout how much ya love me, cher?" He smirks knowingly, "Or the other way 'round?"

You blush again, shaking your head. "Shut up." You mumble, pressing another kiss to his knuckles before pulling your hand away to grab your drink. You take a long sip, looking at him as you do. His never wavering smirk stays plastered on his face, watching you with the same admiration and love as always.

Your attention is drawn to the Jazz band as the music stops and they start packing up. You clear your throat, looking down at the basket of beignets and your drinks. Remy notices, too, and sighs. "T'ink dat's our queue to get going, chouchou."

"Mhm." You say, taking another beignet to your lips before getting up. You eat the small pastry and chug the rest of your drink. Remy throws a twenty on the table before wrapping his arms around you and swaying you slightly, placing his head on top of yours.

"Ya know..." He murmurs to starts, trailing off before anymore words leave his mouth. He shakes his head, pulling you out the cafe and onto the street.

"You can't just do that, you know?" You say, brows knitted together in annoyance.

"What? Oh, uh... I was gonna say I love you." He laughs, opening your door.

"I love you too, asshole." You say, pressing a kiss to his cheek and getting into the car.

You don't even realize it before you're already there, but he brings you to the french quarter, and walks you around, stopping in front of some of the musicians and letting you listen.

"You like da jazz, cher?" He whispers, "I got us a reservation to a nice little restaurant tonight, right next to the band."

"What?!" You ask, eyes widening as you look at him.

"Ya, it's the least I could do for mon amour, cher."

You kiss him, for what feels like the millionth time today. The both of your lips are smiling as he deepens the kiss, holding you close enough that you can feel each other's heart beats. They beat in time with each other, like your were made for each other.