#still more things coming tomorrow and also worse rain

[jedi-bird]

The irony of everything I've ordered over the last two weeks arriving on the days we're having torrential downpours and possible flooding isn't lost on me. I have impeccable timing apparently.

[wosofutbolfan]

When Somebody Loved Me (Everything Was Beautiful)

Alexia Putellas x Reader

A story of a lifetime spent growing together. To what end?

Songfic

WC: 17k. Check TW inside.

TW: Bullying based on disability. Death of a parent. Angst. Grief.

Hi Guys.

This has sat in my drafts for months and inside my head for even longer. There is no part 2 planned. This is angsty with fluffy moments. Be warned.

I think we can all agree the most heart wrenching media moment of all time is Toy Story 2 and the below song.

If you don't agree. Move along this is not for you.

Reader calls Alexia, Alex throughout this fic. That's based on this video. Cause I have never heard someone refer to that and I thought it was cute. Alexia refers to R as 'Conejito' as a literal translation of bunny - I have since realised there's a more vulgar translation of this which I'm ignoring. Ha.

Spoiler Alert - This story deals with the death of a parent. Which I went back and forth on writing. Something about it still feels ick to me because these are real people. I may delete. Everything within is based on my own experience of parental loss. And it comes from no place of malace or weirdness.

This also deals with a severe speech impediment - which again, I do not suffer from myself but have experience with and hope I have done the struggle justice for anyone who may suffer.

My spanish is google translate because I am an ignorant English speaker. Apologies.

When somebody loved me Everything was beautiful Every hour we spent together Lives within my heart

It was raining on the day that you met her.

That was strange. For Barcelona. The rain.

You found yourself where you usually could be found, to anyone who would take notice. Which wasn’t anyone to your knowledge except for a few observant teachers. In the art room, in the back corner, working relentlessly at an easel that your favourite teacher would set up for you.

You had transferred into the school part way through term, and for the first few days as with most schools you were the new and shiny thing. At 12 a lot of the kids in school had known each other since birth and you were new fresh blood to entertain them.

That didn’t last too long though when they realised you weren’t actually that interesting.

Shy and quiet as you always had been, you kept yourself to yourself. Its not that you didn’t want to make friends. You did. You so desperately did. But you just didn’t know how.

You had a stutter. That never helped. Kids could be cruel. And with the move from your hometown to Mollet for your mum's job it had only gotten worse. 

Words felt like lead in your mouth, your jaw felt tight and you struggled to get your words out. They stuck in your throat and refused to move from there. 

The teachers were kind. Your peers were not. Your speech therapist was helping. You spent more time than any 12 year old should thinking about sentence structure and breathing techniques.

You knew your parents worried about you. Waiting for you to get home from school every day with worried glances and eager smiles; “Did you make any friends today niña?” your dad would ask, pretending to be casual, flicking through some book or another. “Not today Papi.” You would reply, never wanting to lie to your family, before happily jumping the couch next to him and starting to scribble in your notebook.

“Maybe tomorrow niña. There is always tomorrow”.

Well. Turns out dads are clever.

Because there was always tomorrow. And on an unusually rainy day for Mollet tomorrow came.

“Putellas!! Get back here! Pute-...”

The door to the art room quickly opened and slammed closed. The noise jolts you out of your peaceful reverie. A tall brunette girl smashed her back against the door and a hand quickly flicked out to turn the lights off to the room.

She clearly hadn’t noticed you huddled in the corner as she slid down the door onto her butt. Closing her eyes she let out a deep sigh and rested her forehead on her knees.

You didn't know what to do.

You knew who she was. Of course you did. She was Alexia Putellas.

The Alexia Putellas. Futbol superstar. Well… the 12 year old playground version of that. The coolest girl in school. She oozes confidence. Was always surrounded by a gaggle of your peers. Never without a ball at her feet or in her hands. But she hadn’t noticed you. Arm still raised working on the canvas in front of you, vision now impeded by the dark she had forced onto the room by turning the light off. You froze. Mouth slightly agape and hand starting to sweat. You watched as she rocked her forehead side to side on her knees. Your arm became tired in its upright position and the noise of you plopping the brush back into the water jar seemed to jolt her out of her stupor. Her neck snapped up and you met her wide, hazel eyes that bore into you. “Oh! Lo siento, I didn’t… I didn’t know anyone else was in here.” She was met with silence. Your stutter affected you terribly on a good day. Nevermind your safehaven suddenly being invaded by the coolest girl in school. Who you had idolised from afar since arriving in Mollet. Her head tilted curiously as she took you in. You felt her eyes drift to the canvas behind you. “Did you paint that?” She stands to her full height, still keeping her distance from you. “Why are you painting in the dark…?” She asks curiously. Head still tilted. Faced with a direct question you couldn’t put it off any longer. You couldn’t delay the inevitable. “Y..y…you, tu…tu….switched off….” Changing the words you intended to use halfway through was a coping mechanism that your therapist had tried to get you to work out of your system. She called it masking. You called it getting by. You raise your hand and point to the lightswitch that she had flicked when she entered the room. She looks at you harder now. You feel her eyes boring into you and wait for the inevitable laughter. The pity. Maybe even the cruelty that you are used to when people hear you speak. You cast your eyes down, waiting for the blow. But you just hear a flick of a switch, and the darkness behind your eyelids lifting. “I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have switched it off if I had known. I was just trying to get away. I kicked a football at Senorita Lopez by accident in the gym. They won’t let me play outside in the rain. Idiotas” You lift your eyes at her gentle, lilting tone as a smile teases your lips. She's moved closer to you now. “You didn’t answer. Did you paint this?” Her hand comes out to hover over the lines of your still-wet painting. Carefully. Again, you’ve been asked a direct question. “Si.” you reply, quietly. You don’t struggle so much with single words. “By yourself?” she asked, aghast, wonder taking over her features. You nod in reply. “This is so cool! Show me!” A grin overtakes your features as you nod more enthusiastically. Glasses slipping down your nose. Pulling out a fresh canvas for your new friend. “Lo siento, I haven’t told you my name. My Papa says it's rude not to introduce myself…” she stands tall and thrusts out her hand. Very formally. Very practised. “I am Alexia Putellas Segura.” You pause for a moment, looking at her outstretched hand. You wipe your clammy hands on your jeans. And shake her hand. “A…A…” you grow frustrated with yourself, the words getting stuck in your throat. You pull your hand away but Alexia keeps her grip firm and nods at you encouragingly. “Al…Alex… Alex.” you give up. Eyes downcast. Maybe you can tell your papa you nearly made a friend today. “Alex! Cool! I’ve never had that nickname! Most people call me Ale. But it can be our thing. I know you, you are y/n I remember Senora Perez making you stand at the front of class. Show me how to paint! Please? ”  Alexia was not a good painter. She quickly got bored and distracted by the newspaper on the desk intended for a paper mache project which she screwed up together, fashioned into a football and then spent the rest of the wet lunchtime kicking around the art room aiming for various targets that she would shout out to you. 

You dutifully cheered at every successful hit of the target. That night as you climbed onto the couch next to your papa and he asked; “Did you make any friends today niña?”. You couldn’t wait to reply; “Si! Alex.” You missed the way his newspaper dropped ever so slightly, and he caught the eye of your mami who was in the kitchen. “Ah, Si? Alex should come for dinner! We would love to welcome him!” He replied, his delight even obvious to you. “No tonta… Alex is a girl!” you let out. In that hilariously moody way only 12 year olds can. You became inseparable. Alexia was your best friend. Complete and total opposites. She would spend wet lunches in the art room with you. She would drag you to the playing fields after school and on break and you would be a goalie for her. Which was really just you standing complaining about where you found yourself and you dived away from balls as she cackled out a laugh. She came round for dinner with your family most nights. You spent every weekend at the Putellas household, travelling to her football games, strapped up next to Alba in the back of the Putellas family car, scribbling away in a notebook as you drew landscapes that you passed. On the way home you would sketch and sketch, only slightly hindered by the weight of your gangly best friend as she slept on your shoulder.  Your art would sit on both family fridges. Alex’s football boots would litter both entrance ways. Your mami would pick Alba up from the junior school if Eli got stuck at work. Joint family dinners were the norm.

Your relationship evolved through the years. Easily. Blissfully. You grew together. You became taller, however still paling in height compared to your best friend. You got braces and had them removed, You wore contacts most days now instead of your thick rimmed glasses. Though you still could usually be found in the art rooms.

Alexia filled out, she became less gangly and more strong, after years dedicated to football and training. 

Your speech improved. Your stammer only comes out rarely and you know your triggers. You worked hard every week with your speech therapist but you always credited Alexia. She gave you confidence. 

No one at school would roll their eyes or laugh at you when Alexia was by your side. She didn’t rush you. She didn’t finish your sentences. Nothing was more formidable within your school walls than if Alexia had found out someone had made fun of you, or not been patient with you. She got in trouble countless times defending your honor. Even if the teachers hated punishing her for it. 

You maybe realised on some level that you were as important to Alexia as she was to you the day that caused her to miss the U15 School Championship final. 

One of the more idiotic older basketball boys had caught you in the hallway. Trying to impress his gaggle of followers he had tripped you up as you were on your way scurrying into the art rooms to finish the sign you had made for Jaume to wave at the upcoming championship final. You had fallen flat on your face, quickly moving onto your back and pressing yourself against the wall. It had been a while due to Alexia's influence but you had dealt with bullies your entire life and you knew you had to just make yourself small and wait it out. “Oh s-s-s-s-s–s-s-oooorry it w-w-w-as an a-a-a-a-accident!!” the boy taunted you, leaning over you and exaggerating your stutter. 

His spittle hitting your face and making you wince. He brought himself to his full height, which was impressive for a 16 year old and turned to his friends. “Honestly, how is she even in this school, she is so estupida!” His guffaw was matched by his followers however their faces quickly dropped as they looked behind their ringleader. “What did you just say to her?” a cold, terse voice entered the conversation. You didn’t see his face drop but you could imagine it. 

He quickly turned and looked at Alexia standing in the doorway. Sunshine behind her darkening your view. As she stepped into the halfway you took in the thunderous look on her face. You don’t think you’ve ever seen her as angry. 

You barely recognised her. “I-i-i sai…” This time he wasn’t impersonating you. 

He knew he was fucked. She moved quicker than you had ever seen her move on the football pitch. The tall boys friends quickly scattered as she grabbed him by his shoulders. He may have had at least two foot of height difference on her but that quickly diminished to nothing as she kneed him squarely between the legs. He doubled over in pain as she landed blow after blow to his stomach. “Alex… stop.” you instructed, gathering yourself to your feet. 

Your voice cut through her rage and she immediately stopped her punches. He scurried off as soon as he was able to, no serious damage done apart from to his ego… and maybe his balls. She turned to face you after shouting some choice expletives to his back, face immediately morphing into one of concern, eyebrows furrowed as her hands cupped your face. “¿Estás bien?” She asked, seriously. Hands moving to check you over. 

“Si, Si, estoy bien.” you replied. “You shouldn’t have done that Alex.” you regarded her with sceptical eyes. 

Her brow furrowed further, “What should I have done then? He’s un maton, he hurt you. I taught him a lesson. I would do it again. I would. I am not sorry.” she said firmly as she moved your head beneath her chin and wrapped her strong arms around you. 

You tried to pretend that the butterflies in your stomach erupting at her protectiveness were a normal reaction to a friend. 

Right? She repeated the same platitudes the next day, but this time with Jaumes hand on her shoulder as she sat in the headmaster's office. The boy she had humiliated so happened to be the son of one of the school governors. The headmaster told the footballer and her father that if Alexia apologised to the boy then she would go unpunished, otherwise, he would be forced to stop any of her extra-curricular activities, including the interschool championship final. Which, as headmaster, he really didn't want to do when his school had their first chance of winning in over a decade. She refused. 

She was banned from playing.

The team lost. 

Badly. The guilt ate away at you as you both watched from the sidelines as the 5th goal against your team went in. 

She grasped your knee, and still watched the game. “Stop feeling guilty. I am still not sorry. There are more important things than football conejita.” 

You took a breath and placed your hand on top of hers. You turned to look at her incredulously. “I mean, very few. Football is still in the top 2. Food is 3.” she continued, deadpan. Forcing a laugh out of you. You asked her once, years after first meeting, one sleepover when you were both lying side by side on the Putellas trampoline looking up at the stars. Why was she so patient with you? When no one else was? She looked at you, dumbfounded, genuinely confused by the question. “You have a voice y/n. You deserve to be heard.” she replied. Moving into her favourite position which was pulling all of your weight completely on top of her. Your head rested over her heart. You could hear the thump thump thump against your ear. You hoped she couldn’t feel the fluttering of yours.  

It was that simple to her. “Plus you looked like a rabbit in the headlights when I barged in, you were too cute. Mi pequeña coneja”.

Your Alex. 

You transitioned from best friends into girlfriends at 16 with no fanfare. A shy kiss after a win at Alexia's latest championship sealed it. Her grin splitting her face. Yours matching when you realised your dreams could become a reality. Hands held tentatively in the backseat of Jaumes car as he smiled at the scene through his rear view mirror.  Days later, as you both stood in front of your mami and papi shyly holding hands you realised, squeezing the trembling hand in yours, that it was the first time you had seen Alex nervous. In all of your years of friendship.

Alexia still had her weirdly formal streak, the same as the day you met her, so you let her do what she felt she needed to.

“Senor y Senora y/l/n… “ she started, taking a breath. “Mi and y/f/n…”

Your parents caught your eye, dumbfounded. She never used their titles. They rarely heard her use your name. You were always conejito.

“Alexia… estimada…” your mami started, with kind eyes. You could tell she knew what was coming. You shook your head at her slightly, Alexia too caught up in her own moment to notice. Your mami let her speak.

“Mi and y/f/n…”

Your papi, however, was not as emotionally in tune as your mami, “Monito, what is going on? Why are you being muy loca? Have you got mi mija pregnant? I know you're an overachiever bu…” “Papi!” you screeched out, interrupting him. 

Alex stood mouth agape, face flushed as she looked to you for help. “Papi, Mami, Alex is tr…try…tryi… telling you that we’re together together.” you let out, raising your joined hands. Your mami let out a laugh behind her hands, your papi however stood and exclaimed, “Was that some sort of secret!? Dios Mio of course you are! We thought you had been for years!  You made me change your bedtime story from princesses to football-playing princesses on the day you met!  Why do you think your Mami makes you keep your door open when this one stays, Mija?” 

Now it's your turn to blush as your mouth drops open. As he passes Alexia he gently smacks her upside the head, ruffling her long brunette hair. “Now come on cabeza de bola, me and the guys from work are starting a 5 a side. I need your help on penalties…” You huff out a laugh as your girlfriend is dragged away, confused look stuck on her face - eyebrows adorably drawn and mouth furrowed and clinging to your hand until distance forces her to let go. 

Your mami settles her arm across your shoulders. “I’m happy for you Mija” she mutters, in her gentle tone as you fall into her embrace. “You’re going to marry that girl one day.” Even after everything that would happen and the hell you would feel, you thank God for the unseasonal rain in Barcelona that day in junior school.

And when she was sadI was there to dry her tearsAnd when she was happy, so was IWhen she loved me It wasn’t long after you made your relationship official that you had your first real test.

You knew something was wrong with your girlfriend probably before she did. You knew her like the back of your hand. Though it finally came to a head one early evening at the Putellas household.

You had both picked Alba up from school, and you had set out to making dinner in the Putellas kitchen whilst Alexia's parents were both stuck at work.

It was standard practice, occurring at least once a week. You moved through the kitchen with ease. The ease is what alerted you.

Usually, on nights like these, Alba would huff off to her room like any other pubescent teenager, head stuck in her phone and earphones firmly in place. Alexia however, would usually be found attached to your back, arms wrapped around you as you cooked, or sat at the breakfast bar, swiping chopped veggies til you hit her with a spoon to make her stop, rolling your eyes as she insisted she was a growing girl and she needed the extra.

No, this was too easy, you thought, as you moved around, you missed your big inconvenience in the kitchen and you made sure your pasta sauce was bubbling nicely and went to search for her. 

You find her in the living room, her large frame draped over the sofa, eyes mindlessly watching the TV. But you can tell she isn’t watching whatever is on. Ale isn’t a big TV-watcher. She's very rarely sitting still for long enough to concentrate. The exception being if you're in her lap, where she entertains herself by playing with your hair or tracing the lines on your palm. “Hey, amor, estás bien?” your voice brings her out of her thoughts, “Ey? Ah sí conejito, lo siento, is dinner ready?” she asks, making to stand, but being stopped by your hand on her shoulder.  “Ay, when did I become the hired help, ey?” you ask, trying to tease a smile out of your girlfriend. “Dinner will be ready soon. Tell me what's on your mind.” The thing about Alex is she’s an open book. People may think she is stern and serious but she wears her heart on her sleeve. You can always see her thoughts plainly on her face, so you know something troubling her. She knows she can’t hide it from you, so she doesn’t try. “I’ve been offered a professional contract.” She states, plainley. Your heart lifts for her. Your whole life Alexia has bled football. For many years she believed, and you did too though you would never admit it, that it wouldn't be possible to make a career from the sport. You don’t think you have ever seen Alexia as sad as when she aged out of the Barcelona FC teams. She was devastated. It was a harsh reminder that Spain wasn't the USA. The opportunities are not always available. But the thing you loved most about Alexia was her dogged determinedness. She would train in the morning, in the afternoon, between classes. You are overjoyed that all of that hard work has paid off. Something wasn’t adding up with her reaction, however. “Alex, that's amazing news!” you exclaimed, unable to hide the joy in your voice. “Why are you not more excited? Is it a bad deal?” “No, amor, it is a fair deal.” she sighs. You just look into her eyes, waiting for her to tell you what she wants to share. She takes a deep breath. “It’s Levante, I would have to move to Valencia.” Ah, you see. Your heart breaks at the sad frown painted on the usually stern face of your girlfriend. Your hand moves up to trace her eyebrow, forcing them to unfrown and moving down to cup her cheek. She leans heavily into the warmth of your hand, and damp eyes open, fixing to yours. “Oh Alex, it’s okay” you whisper. The truth is you had always known that with the career your girlfriend was destined to follow, that you would have to spend time away from each other. You already did. Alexia has often been away throughout your friendship and now your relationship for national camps. 

You had a very mature relationship for 17 year olds. Having been woven into each other's lives for so many years. You were part of each other's DNA. You knew how to manage the time without your girlfriend. You were both grade A communicators. You accepted that this would be different, and no doubt unimaginably hard for the footballer, her family was her life. But so was football. And you know you needed to encourage her to take this step. “It’s not okay!” she stated, firmly, sitting up straight on the couch. “It’s not fair! Finally I get what I have dreamed of but it comes at the expense of everything I love. Mi familia, Barcelona, you! Why can’t I have both? I don’t know what to do” “You go to Levante, Alexia.” you say, seriously, “This is a huge opportunity for you.” She looks at you incredulously and you’re not sure what you’ve done wrong. “Oh, so it is that easy for you? Si? You just let me go like it doesn’t even bother you!” You aren’t used to Alexia's stern frown being sent your way, usually it's aimed at someone in defence of you. Or at a goalkeeper.  You, however, know the brunette is feeling vulnerable, she has waves of insecurity at times, she puts so much pressure on herself it's inevitable, but you are always there to assure her of her worth, and your love. “You know that's not true, amor.” you say, tenderly, hand reaching into her brunette locks to sooth her. “I agree, it’s not fair that Barca don’t have a women's team but I have always known your talent would take you away from me, “ she opens her mouth to interject, “but I love you. And I know you love me. We are tethered. Forever. When, not if, you go to Valencia, we will make it work. You know we will amor, you can have both” “But I will miss you.” she whimpers, pathetically. “I will miss you every second. But it will get better, it’ll pass Alex.” Her head finds your neck as she settles in there. Her larger frame is quite comically draped over you. “Do you promise?” she lets out, weakly. And you don’t let a moment pass, “I promise.” and seal your promise with a kiss to the crown of her head. She moves her chin up and faces you, “Beso, por favour” she asks, who are you to refuse? You kiss softly, you don’t know how many minutes you are tasting her sweet lips pass before you are interrupted by a sulky 14 year old.  “Ewwww!”

Alba appeared, making the two of you split apart, her disgust at the scene she's found making you laugh as Alexia peels herself from you, rolling her eyes.

“I’m gonna tell Mami that you two were making out instead of feeding m…ahh!” Albas accusations getting lost as Alexia chases her around the living room, ready to fight in a way only sisters can.

A strange smelling odour fills your nose. Oh… Oh no. You rush into the kitchen to find your dinner smoking on the hob.

“Oi, Putellas diablos!” You stick your head into the living room where you find Alexia sat on her younger sister whilst she tries to battle off the huge weight she finds on herself. They both pause and look at you guiltily. “C’mon, shoes on, we’re going out to eat, on me, we’re celebrating!”

Both of them unite in cheers as they childishly jump up and run to the front door in glee, shoving each other out of the way to try to get their shoes on first as you watch, affectionately shaking your head.

It will be months later, after a summer filled with memories made with your girlfriend, days at the beach, trips to the market, lazy days at home and soft moments made in the streets of Barna, that you would find yourself alone in bed.

That was weird.

You had spent the day packing with Alexia, the sadness of moving away had started to be replaced with excitement from the tall girl. Her dreams were coming true, okay, it may not be perfect, she finally understands, but it's a step in the right direction.

She can’t believe that she's going to get paid to play football.

Paid. The evening after a long day of packing was spent having a family meal at the Putellas household. Your family is also in attendance. It was a loud and joyous affair and it helped to keep the sadness out of your girlfriend's eyes. After a long evening of sombremesa Alexia had insisted on coming back with you to your parents to your house.

She didn’t want to spend her last evening in Barcelona in her empty bedroom, instead finding solace in yours. You had both talked into the early hours, in the arms of each other, trading soft touches and exchanging breaths until sleep took you. You pretended for her sake that you couldn’t hear her rattling breaths or feel the dampness of her cheeks on your fingers.

Now, however, you were alone, and unsure at what woke you up. Until a tapping comes to your attention. You sit up in bed and hear it again. What is that? You get out of bed and go towards your window, yep, there it is again, coming from outside. You throw open the curtains and peer out into the moonlit garden.

It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness but you can’t take that moment because you suddenly are hit squarely in the face by a pebble. 

“Ouch.. what the he…” you stand suddenly and bang your head on the window frame “Ow, Fuck!” “Ay Dios Mío, lo siento amor! I didn’t see you had opened the window!” Alexia's panicked voice reached your ears, why was she in the garden? What the hell was going on? “Are you okay conejito?” You take a moment to steady yourself and your mind into your new and abrupt situation. “Conejito?” “Yes, Alex, I am fine. What are you doing out there?” You’re met with silence. “Al?” The tall brunette is scuffing her foot against the pebbles of the garden that she had previously been launching at the window. “I don’t want to say. I feel stupid now.” You arch your eyebrow in her direction. You don't think that she can even see it but she knows what's aimed in her direction. “I couldn’t sleep. I was too excited. And also sad. And muddled. And I will miss you so much so I was just imagining how good it will feel when you visit, or I visit. Or when I score a goal and you’re watching. Which I know you’ve seen but now it's my job.” she rambles, pausing momentarily to take a breath. 

“Anyway, I thought about how cool it would be if I came to visit and woke you up by throwing stones at your window like in a film! You’d love that! Then I just couldn’t wait to do it. So here’s me, doing it. I’m being romantic.” She throws a crooked grin up at the window and your heart literally melts. “I..I….” and you promptly burst into tears. “Oh no mi amor no! Don’t cry. I didn’t mean to throw a pebble at your face! I’m sorry!” she gestures towards you with her hands frantically. “It’s not that Alex, you’re just such an idiot. And I love you so much. I am going to miss you so much. Get up here.” needing her arms wrapped around you. She nods vigorously and makes to climb the trellis that goes to your window. “No you idiot! Use the door! You have a key!” “Oh yeah.” you hear her mutter to herself before she scurried back inside. As you’re settled back into her warm arms, her huge hands palming through your hair. “That was very romantic Alex.” you mumble and you practically hear her purr with pride at herself. “Next time though bebe, use your key, I would much rather you be here in bed with me.” “Noted.” she mumbles into your skin, wiping away the tears that you can’t stop from rolling down your cheeks. Alexia got settled into her professional team quickly and efficiently, she was one of the youngest but easily the most talented on the pitch. You would travel up with Jaume religiously at the weekends wherever you could, your time in the week spent busy with the Art College you had enrolled in. Alba sometimes tagging along when you bribed her with snacks.

As promised you were there when she scored her first professional goal, her beaming smile sent directly to you and Jaume in the stands, stood cheering for her. You witnessed her wide eyes, after the game, as you stood waiting for your celebratory hug and maybe a cheeky kiss, when she was stopped by a little hand. “Hola.” the small girl had to crane her neck to look up at your girlfriend. She was shaking with excitement. “Hola?” she replied, confused. “Can I have your autograph por favour?” she asked, sweetly. Alexia just stood there, like a sim. 

You stepped forward with your notepad and drawing pencil that you carry everywhere, you had more drawings of inside a football stadium than anyone would need. You ripped out a page and handed Ale the pencil. “Of…of course?” She scribbled down her autograph for the young girl who beamed and ran away holding it above her head to show her mami who picked her up in glee. Alexia's wide eyes stared at you. “Did you see that?” “I saw that bebe, I handed you the pencil. I also saw your goal, superstar!” You couldn’t control your grin, which was mirrored by your girlfriend. “You played so well! Alex!” You're interrupted as she drags you over the fencing and pulls you into a bear hug. Her face nuzzled into your neck, her body vibrating with excitement. “I scored for you conejito!” she says “Well, hija, I won’t be offended, I have only been to every game you’ve played for 10 years” Jaume appears above you both still in the stands, smiling teasing his lips. “And you papa!” she releases you and pulls her papa into a hug. Dragging you back in after a moment before declaring that her first goal means that she deserves pizza and ice cream courtesy of her papa. 

Through the summer and the fall We had each other, that was all Just she and I together Like it was meant to be

You finished your college course and your love for art had never died. You made the trip to Valencia wherever possible to see Alex and she came back to Barna at least once a month to see her family and you on an off weekend. You would spend those weekends living at Alexias house, soaking up every moment together as much as possible. 

She would bring her clothes home for Eli to wash as she was useless at anything practical. You would make sure that you would always snag a sweater of hers before it was washed and keep hold of it, soaking in her scent before you could swap it out again. Alexia, used to pretend she hated it, they would always be returned with paint stains around the cuffs which would harden and she said irritated her skin.  You tried to be more careful but you didn’t stop stealing them.

You saw the same amount of her family as before she moved away, your lives had been so intrinsically linked that you had become an honorary Putellas, and she was a part of your family. You hung around with Alba and you helped Eli with her shopping when her car broke down. You were family.

Weirdly enough, it was you that met Alexia's future best friend first. After college, you started to make money from your art by being a live artist at weddings.

You knew your parents were worried about what you would do with your art. Teaching was the obvious choice but with your speech issues, it was your idea of hell.

This was perfect.

It was a niche business but you got paid well and you loved it. You got to go to weddings for a job. You got to capture people's joy on the most important day of their lives.  You would sit in the corner with an easel set up, sketching and painting guests, the dance floor, the top table. And you could immediately give your paintings to the couple and their guests, the validation was enormous, you were good at what you did. Discreet and professional.

You soon get a client list for miles and the money starts to pour in.

It was at one of these weddings that you met Mapi. She caught your eye during the speeches and you started to draw her outline. She was clearly very very gay at a very straight wedding. But it wasn’t just that that caught your eye, her tattoos intrigued you. And you loved sketching them and adding hints of colour here and there.

She looked up at you and caught you sketching, as guests often would, you were able to not let it distract you, ever the professional you offered a gentle smile.

“You like football?” a heavily accented voice reached your ears as you were adding the finishing touches to the dancefloor scene that was set out before you.

“Que?” It wasn’t often that guests interacted with you, but sometimes it happened.

“Your bag, FC Barcelona? That's not usual for a pretty girl like you, to like football.”

“Ah, Si.” You reply, your eyes not moving from your painting. “It’s my girlfriends.” you reply, emphasising your relationship status, not wanting a moment of confusion.

“Ah, boo, you have ruined my fun.” She replies, “Maria Leon '' She introduces herself, hand out for you to shake, you don’t take her hand, handing your paint-y hands up. She holds her hands up in surrender. “I see, I see. FC Barcelona though. Good team. No women's team though.”

“No, but there will be, and my girlfriend will be their top scorer when it happens”  you reply confidently. “You seem so sure?” “I am.” She lets out a laugh. “I can’t argue with that, then I will be their best defender” she offers a huge smile. Mapis smile is magic and makes you smile.

You and Mapi become firm friends. She talks. And talks and talks and talks. You don’t know how she has so much to say. But she is fun and she is kind. Your stutter makes an appearance as it sometimes does but it is perfectly offset by her inability to stop yapping. You don’t feel a pressure to fill the silence because you know she will. 

Years later, at a supercup final, you will both laugh about your first conversation. About how both of your statements came true. Turns out, people paid well for authentic paintings of their favourite moments. And as a young adult you found yourself with enough money to get yourself a small apartment in Mollet. You loved it. And you loved the independence it brought you. You think that was the happiest time of your life. You would spend days on your sun drenched terracotta tiled balcony. Painting watercolour and sketching the scenes both in your mind and your view over the square that your apartment was on. You had quite the online following and would get some commissions for your art which brought you a sense of purpose and joy. The absolute best time was when Alexia had a free weekend, or a break, she would stay with you and you would live in domestic bliss. It was an unspoken agreement. No question that she would make her base for her time back at your apartment. Even when she wasn’t there you wouldn’t sleep on her side of the bed. More of her clothes made their way into your closet. More of her sweaters would get paint marks on them. You would cook together, sing together, dance together in your small kitchenette. Feeling happy and in love as only young people can. Nothing gets between you. Training had been kind to your girlfriend, and you struggled to keep your eyes off her as she would do basic tasks. She was thick. For want of a better word. Her gangly limbs had become pure muscle, her back would ripple when putting on a t-shirt, you would find yourself staring at her forearms as she would cut vegetables. She knew what she did to you and she loved it. Often sending a wink your was and sending you into more of a stuttering mess then usual, heat climbing to your face. You felt your heart grow as you would go shopping for groceries together. Take strolls in the square, you sitting on a bench and sketching as she inevitably got herself involved in a football game with the local kids. Her favourite time of day would be Friday nights. Often, if she was lucky, she would be scheduled an early kick off on fridays. You would travel back from the game together with her papi. You took the backseat as you knew you would monopolise her time back all weekend. Giving her a chance to catch up with her family. You would get home, she would shower whilst you made a light dinner, both taking it in on the balcony before moving inside and settling on the couch. She would put on some illegally screened recordings of the game she had played in. But she would mute it as she pulled you into her chest. You would have a sketchbook in hand and continue working on your art, or a piece from a wedding that needed finishing up. You always told her the commentary wouldn’t distract you. But she insisted. Once finally saying, “I like the sound of your pencil, it soothes me, and sometimes you trace the sketch on my leg with your free hand. It gives me goosebumps. I like it.” you never asked again. You argued, of course, like any couple did. But it never lasted long. Alex would get angry when she would find paint in the sink, and you would struggle to share your space at first. But you never went to bed in a fight. Even if you tried to be stubborn your body would fail you and you would gravitate towards her in the moments before sleep, muttering your apologies or forgiveness. In those early days of young adulthood it would be the only time in your relationship where you had more money than Alex. 

Football did not pay well. It did not pay a living wage. 

You didn’t care. 

You felt privileged every time you scanned your card for the groceries, or paid for dinner on a date. You knew she hated it though. “One day conejito, I will give you everything life can offer, I promise” she would whisper into your skin whilst she tried to make it up to you in other ways. You would always tell her you had everything you needed right there with you. It was perfect. Life was perfect. You had friends, a stable job, the love of your life. Yes, distance was hard, yes, each time she left you would cry and hold her tighter to you, but you knew it wasn’t forever, and you never felt that distance in your relationship. You grew together, like a plant, your love was carefully cultivated in experiences and shared memories.

And when she was lonely I was there to comfort her And I knew that she loved me

You had never felt sadness like it. It was all encompassing. You couldn’t get away from it. You were sad for your chosen family. You were sad for your own family. You were sad for yourself. But you were devastated for your girlfriend. You didn’t know what to do with so much sadness. You couldn’t hold it in, but you couldn’t let it out. You needed to be strong for your girlfriend. Who was walking around as a shell of the person that you knew her to be. Well, that was when she was walking, she would throw herself into her childhood bedroom and stay there silently for hours. You would be okay with it if she was sleeping, but she just stared at the wall aimlessly. Her Papa was her inspiration. The reason she got into football. She would look up to him even as she towered over him. And it was so so cruel that he had been taken away from her in such a manner. A week after Jamues passing you found yourself next to Alexia at his funeral. It was a beautiful affair, a celebration of the life of a man who loved hard and was loved hard. The morning had been difficult, you had ironed Alexia's dress and set it out for her. She took your instruction like a small child, you brushed her hair straight and pulled it out from her face. You struggled to speak. Such immense grief you felt the words became garbled in your mouth, rendering you mute. But you didn’t want any pressure on Alexia. 

You knew when your stutter made an appearance she would drop everything, concentrate on doing your exercises with you, hand automatically cupping your jaw and massaging the soft area beneath your ear because she knew that relaxed your facial muscles. So you both moved around silently. That morning. As you guided her around what needed to be done. As you packed her bag with tissues you hoped that you needed to use them. You hadn’t seen her cry since she rushed home from Valencia to the news. So no, you didn’t know what to do with your grief. You loved him too. He was the first person you had loved and lost. You had your own special relationship built from long car journeys and shared snacks. He would put your art on his fridge like you were one of his own. He was kind and he was half of the person who you loved to your core. God. If you felt like this. You don’t know how Alexia was still breathing. You had been spending all week as the Putellas household. Not leaving Alex's side. But also not leaving Alba, who would lean heavily into you of an evening, seemingly crying all of the tears that her sister couldn’t. It felt healthy though, through the tears you could share memories and make her laugh. You would go to bed with Alex and the silence would continue. When you were sure she was asleep you would sneak out of bed and grab your sketch pad, settle into the corner of the room and just let it out. Her dad told you once at a game how his father worked as a coal miner. He said it proudly, he adored hard work. That's where Alexia got her devotion from. It was a passing moment, a memory that you didn't even know you had. But it stuck with you as you went into the Putellas garden and took a lump of coal from the barbeque and settled yourself into the dewey grass. Hand not stopping over your sketchpad and tears rolling down your cheeks.

The night after the funeral you stayed at your own parents house. You couldn’t handle the loneliness of your own apartment. You didn’t want to intrude at the Putellas residence, and you hoped that maybe some time with her family would be what Alexia needed to open up. You were right, but not in the way you imagined. A soft clink, clink, clink, woke you up, This time you were not frightened. You had heard this noise before. You immediately jumped out of bed and ran to your window, showing it open and shoving your head out. “Alex! What are you doing here, why didn’t you use your key?” The brunette looked up at you with sad eyes, you saw she was in her pyjamas, eyes sideways showing no car, she had walked here. “I forgot it.” she let out, morosely. “Oh mi amor, no p..p..problem, hold on I will come down and let you in.” before you had a chance to bring your body back into the house you heard her again, “You left me.” your heart cracked into two. You didn’t reply but instead hurried downstairs into the moonlit garden. She stood there, with all her muscle and height, looking everything like a toddler who was lost in a supermarket. You took her hand in yours and used your other to cup her cheek. “Oh, mi amor I didn’t leave you, I thought you wanted some space.” Maybe you expected her to agree, maybe you expected her to disagree and shout at you for getting it so wrong. You didnt realise that you were to her, like an umbrella in the rain, protecting her from the downpour. With you gone she drowned in the grief. You didn’t expect her lip to tremble and her to burst into tears. “I want my papa.”  Those 4 words broke your heart as you huddled her into your arms, rocking lightly to bring her confort. There was nothing you could say, you just brought her into your bed and held her as she cried, painting her skin with whispers of your love “I know, bebe, I know, I promise it’ll pass, I promise, and I will be here. The pain will go. It will pass Alex and I will be here.” It became a mantra that you whispered into her skin.

As she calmed down you took a moment to think. As you got out of bed and she groaned in annoyance you hushed her with your lips to her skin. “Un momento, mi amor, I have something for you.”

You presented it nervously, unsure of the reaction you would get.

It was a framed picture that you had created. Not like your usual artwork as it was made from coal. Coal from the Putellas barbecue to be exact. It was a sketch of a man in the stands of a football stadium, somehow, eyes beaming with pride, laugh lines visible on his face. A footballer with a long ponytail and similar features jumping into his arms.

It was a scene you had witnessed hundreds of times throughout the years. You didn’t need to see it again to create it. The coal added a haunting and beautiful dimension to it. When you explained your reasoning Alexia looked deeply into your eyes. Holding onto the frame with white knuckles like her life depended on it.

“I love you.” 

And when Alexia scored and helped her team to win the U19 Championship for her country not 3 weeks later. Celebrating with eyes to the sky, fingers pointed. You knew that, eventually, she would be okay. 

So the years went by I stayed the same But she began to drift away I was left alone Still, I waited for the day When she'd say, "I will always love you"

It was as though it had been destined for years but finally finally the news came that Barcelona FC would have a women's team. Mapi had texted you with glee when the news broke out, she knew that she was stuck in her own contract but the fact it existed made it a possibility for her dreams to come true. Your girlfriend, on the other hand, was a free agent. You thought, privately, that even if she wasn't a free agent that she would break every law on planet earth to play for her childhood club. She was offered a contract and signed without any hesitation. A mist in her eyes at the missing presence in her signing photos. You drove with Alba to collect her and all her things from a year in Valencia directly to your apartment. As you unpacked her stuff, Alba on a food run with money you had shoved into her hand, your small flat suddenly felt full. “Alex,” You called, from the living room, you heard her shuffle around and pop her head into the bedroom where you stood, surrounded by boxes. “Si, conejito?” she asked, breathlessly. You took in her smile, that you had missed over the months, the light in her eyes, the ease of her movements. “I am just asking, I don’t actually remember asking you to move in?” You say, teasingly, gesturing to her boxes surrounding you. It was true, you hadn’t, it had just been assumed by both of you, as well as both of your families. A blush rose up her neck, “I mean… I-i-..”. You burst out laughing. “I am just teasing you”. A glint in her eyes took over and you had half a second to brace yourself before you were tackled by an almost 6ft wall of muscle. You landed gently on the bed with a thump. “Well, light of my life. I think it’s too late for that. Maybe I can make up for my rudeness.” Her voice takes on a sultry tone, attacking your neck with kisses, making you groan. “No, No, No, No, stop it you two! Why is this my life!” Well. Alba was back, You groaned as Alexias full body weight fell onto you as she heard her sister. You had a feeling you both had plenty of time to make up for it. Living with Alexia full time was natural. You had obviously had practice from the year she spent in Valencia but you didn’t realise how easy it would be. You knew where to step to not fall over her boots in the hallway without looking. 

You amended your grocery show to include all her weird protein-packed foods. She would help you get ready for work in your evening gowns that you had to wear to fit in at the weddings, and she would stay up to make sure you got home safe and listened as you babbled on about your favourite parts, all the while taking it in for ideas for your own wedding. You continued to make money at weddings, Alexia rose through the ranks at the new Barcelona Femini team. Quickly establishing herself as a calm and serious captain. 

She took her role seriously,  she would study games religiously at home as you would paint or sketch. Your easel set up in the living room or on the balcony. She would rub your shoulders as you painted, eyes set on the TV at the game. The shared time doing your own activities matched you both perfectly. And just like that, years passed. Years in domestic bliss. Spent together and with your families. Vacations in Ibiza and even a pet cat called Pablo Petcatso, or Pabs for short, entered your little family unit. He was a ginger cat who loved a cuddle and loved getting into Alexia's kit bag, he even made it to the training once or twice, and you had to drive over there to pick him back up. Dragging him away from 22 cooing footballers. 

Women's football grew, as did Alexia's paycheck. And with that, you think, looking back, as did the cracks in your relationship.

“We're here!” Alexias excited voice explained, you had pulled up outside a tall apartment building in the centre of Barcelona. She hadn’t shared with you where you were going. Insisting it needed to be a surprise.

“And where is here?” you looked up at the towering glass building above you, you didn’t come into the city much, you preferred the quiet of your suburb.

“You’ll see, you’ll see!” Her excitement was catching, and you found yourself giddy as the elevator took you further into the skies of the city.

“Ta-da!” She presents a huge open plan space before you, the glass fronted living room has views over the city to the sea. You could count at least 3 bedrooms from where you stood in the hallway. The kitchen was sleek, straight lines and clean granite. 

“What is this place?” you ask, confused, taking in your surroundings. “It's our new apartment!” What? “What?” you breathe out. “Don’t you love it?!” Alexia remains giddy, her excitement not fading and she fails to notice your unenthused reaction. Your mind whirred. “Come look, come look!” she grabbed your hand, and pulled you further into the apartment. Proudly presenting each room to you. “And this room. I thought you could have it as your art studio!” “Art studio?” you whisper. “Yeah! Isn’t it so cool, and so much space. Now I wont get cross at you for getting paint all over the kitchen! Pabs will have so much room to explore!” She turns around and pulls you into her embrace, you are still shellshocked at everything presented to you. “I promised you, didn’t I? I would give you the world conejito.” Her eyes are so bright with joy, the smile so wide on her face, you couldn’t help but smile. Yes, the sleek lines, the large space, and the modern kitchen were beautiful. You didn’t see it for yourself, you preferred your terracotta tiled balcony and your plants overtaking your kitchenette. You loved painting in your living room when Alexia would watch a match. Pabs crawling over your shoulders, your little bubble with your family. But you could see how proud Alex was of herself, of what she had achieved. You must have taken a moment too long, as her eyebrows furrow. “You don’t like it.” you said, plainly, “No… No Alex, I do! I was just so surprised. I love it, and I love you.” “Yeah?” her eyes brighten again. You kiss her lips softly, “Yeah.” “Good! And think conejito, maybe one day there would be room for a bigger family?” she asks, shyly. Your heart melted as you nodded frantically and threw yourself into her embrace. As Alexia's career grew, so did the pressure on her. She was often away, it was something your whole relationship had survived, but now, being away with both club and country, as well as in an apartment that had never truly felt like home. You felt lonely. You would come home from weddings with only Pabs to greet you, you would create art in your studio without the background noise of Alexia watching a game, or preparing a smoothie. She would do that in the living area. Nights together were rarer. Your love never dimmed. Alexia showed you in her every movement that she adored you. Date nights, whilst few and far between, were the highlight of your week. Though that soon became the highlight of your month. The one saving grace during this time was that Mapi had finally joined Barcelona Femini and you took it on yourself to be her personal Barcelona guide. As Alexia's fame grew, you shied more into the background. You weren't an extrovert. You would never hide your relationship and you never asked Alexia to but the only social media that you had was that to promote your artwork. Meanwhile, Alexia's followers grew and grew. A few crazed fans had deep dived into her archives and knew of you but that was only a portion of the fanbase. She hated the delving into her private life, and that caused her to stop posting anything of you onto her public accounts. Any trace of you, gone. Before being a footballer, in Alex’ mind, she was your protector, that hadn’t changed from 15 years ago. With 2021 came great change. All of the years of dreams and hard work had paid off and Barca had reached the champions league final. You travelled to Gothenburg with Eli and Alba, a nervousness in your stomach more than usual. For both your girlfriend and your best friend. You celebrated the win with a euphoria you had rarely felt. Everything felt worth it. The lonely nights, the travel around the country, the sacrifices you had to make as the partner of La Reina.

And as she pulled you into her arms after the final whistle, and pulled you over the barricade the same way she did when she scored her first professional goal your heart couldn’t swell more with pride. You don’t want to say that Alexia changed after the Ballon D’or. Because she didn’t. Well, maybe she did, she suddenly sported bright blonde locks which, you admit was sexy, but you missed the softness her natural hair gave her face. By the second Ballon D’or you thought maybe it was you that changed. Maybe it was you that put up a barrier. One that couldn’t be identified easily. But with study it could be noticed. The problem was that Alex wasn’t there to notice. Yeah, you were together, you did things together, you made love and you made memories. You went back to Mollet regularly and ate with your families and you went to games with Alba.  But Alexia was busy. She had brand deals, she had interviews, she had achieved her dream of being the best footballer in the world. You knew she was since you were 12. But now the world knew too. And the world wanted her attention. 

Oftentimes she was exhausted when she got home. She didn’t want to cuddle on the couch. She didn't want to walk around the plaza. She didn’t want to hear about your day. She would ask, but you could tell her mind was elsewhere, in some contract somewhere, so you started to lie. To give answers which would satisfy her without arousing suspicion. Always trying to put her ease first. 

You would decline for nights out with her teammates, you even lied once or twice and said you had a wedding to paint, just to avoid suspicion. Alexia would take your answer as the truth, and kiss your cheek lightly as she left the apartment which quickly felt like it had become your prison. Mapi could see through you. She would try to get you to talk, but she was Alexia's team mate. Alex was her captain. It didn’t feel right to discuss your relationship issues with her. Not when you wouldn’t even talk to the woman in question about it. You found yourself in the familiar seats of the Johan Cryuff stadium taking in the first home game of the new season. Alba and Eli by your side. The first game was always a family affair. With the Putellas cousins in attendance, a restaurant booked for this evening for you all. It was an easy win for the Champions of Europe. And as you stood with Mapi and her new girlfriend Ingrid at the end of the match chatting, Patri bounded over, sweat on her brow and joy in her eyes. “Hola Senora La Reina” she teased you, kissing your cheek, you had been around the team so much that they all knew you well. “Ay, Idiota, hands off” and large, familiar hands wrapped around your middle, a kiss planted to your other cheek as you melted into her embrace. “Congrats bebe” you muttered, craning you neck you see her looking down at you with a smile. “Senora Reina, you’ll come out for drinks with us to celebrate the win, won’t you?” Parti asked, full of joy. 

The attention of the 4 footballers on you suddenly unsettled you. Maybe it was the busy environment. Maybe it was being with Ingrid who you’d only met a few times. Maybe it was Alexias hands around you for the first time in what felt like months. But you struggled to get your words out. “Ah, gra…grac…gracias  for the invite diablo, but m…m…me…” “She’s coming out with mi familia Patri, it’s tradition! You know that! Vamos, I will come out quickly for a drink then join you all, conejito” Alexia interrupted you, planted a final kiss on your cheek and headed to the changing rooms. She didn’t feel you freeze in her embrace. She didn’t see Patri and Mapis expressions change. She didn’t see Ingrid's look of confusion. You felt sick. You felt like you were about to burst into tears. Your throat burned and you struggled to swallow. 

You felt small. You shuffled your feet on the ground and looked up to see Mapis' face had grown furious, her girlfriend's arm had come to rest over her shoulders, trying to settle her but unsure why. You went straight into damage control. Alexia has protected you your entire life. She had never interrupted you, she knew you couldn’t stand when people would finish your sentences. It was the worst thing you could do to someone with a stutter. She knew that. You don’t know why Alexia's endless patience ran out that day. But you knew you wanted to protect her from your best friend's rage. You knew it would happen one day, you just wish it had happened without any witnesses. For both of your sakes. “Mapi, it's fine.” “It is not fine!” Patri backs away from the situation with a kiss to your cheek and an apologetic look. “I don’t know what's wrong with her lately. I am going to kill her…” she moves towards the changing rooms but you pause her with a soft hand. “Maps, please don’t. It’s f…f…okay. I am okay. Ju…just go get changed and go on your night out. I will t..text you tomorrow. Please.” You look to Ingrid for help, you don’t know her well but she has the power over Mapi seemingly, and as she guides her to the changing rooms the small Spaniard seems to settle down. 

Not enough though, apparently, because as soon as she sees her captain again, a flicker of that rage comes back to her. “What the fuck is wrong with you!” Mapi hisses to her captain, “Maria, stop” Ingrid tugged her by the elbow, trying to take her away. Alexia looked up from her phone with a look of indignation, yes she was Mapis friend but she was still her captain, and they were in front of the whole team. Her defensive wall immediately came up. “Discuple?” Her eyes cast across the changing room, their team mates continued to get changed and pretended they weren’t eaves dropping into the mini argument that had developed.

“I said, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Mapi spat out. “Why did you interrupt her?” Something in Alexia's stomach dropped. Her hands become clammy, her body reacting to the accusation before her mind could. “What? I didn’t. I would never.” she whispers in reply, but more to herself. “No, No I didn't.” she said more surely, somewhat desperately. 

Mapi takes in her best friend's demeanour, the usually stoic and strong captain looked devastated, maybe even petrified? Mapi knew what she had done, but could see that Alexia would punish herself more than Mapi ever could. She stepped away, guided by Ingrid. Leaving Alexia to replay the last 10 minutes, desperately. Mapi saw the moment that realisation came to the Catalan Captain, as she bolted out of the changing room, hair damp, throwing her shirt on as she sprinted back into the stadium. Which is where she found you, moments later. You were sitting in the friends and family section, Alexias new baby cousin settled onto your knee, playing with your hands and babbling to himself. You made cooing noises and spoke softly to him and all her Tias and Tios got rounded up for your meal out. You felt her presence behind you, you could practically feel her anxiety coming off her in waves. You looked back quickly and confirmed your suspicions, her blonde hair damp and wetting her shoulders, her foot twisting against the concrete floor, hands knotted together and bottom lip drawn into her lip, chewing anxiously. “It’s fine Alex.” you said, as you turned, attention back on the baby in your lap. She must have seen this acknowledgement as her body surged towards you, she loudly collapsed into the seat next to you, the anxiety coming off her in waves. “Conej…” she started. “No Alex, I pr…pr… I swear. It’s okay. But I’m currently holding the ba…bab…ba… child.” you take a sigh. “I am holding the child and I don’t want to cry so p…please. It’s okay.” If it's possible. She looked even more devastated. Her whole face collapsed. She hated when you would revert to old techniques to speak, by changing up your words mid sentence. Alexia was your protector. It was her proudest badge. Before she was a footballer, in her mind, she was your partner. And she had let you down. She had done the worst thing she could have done. To an outsider Alexia's moment of impatience may have been a minor indiscretion at most. But to you? To Alex? It was the basis of your whole relationship. You felt safe with her. You had a voice, she said, all those years ago when you fell in love, and you deserved to be heard. And now she has brought that into question. “Can I touch you?” she asked, gently. This brought tears to your eyes and you nodded, whilst still entertaining the baby in your lap with coo’s and a false smile. She touched your knee, the heat of her hand bleeding into your skin. “You don’t need to mask in front of me y/f/n.” Alexia never used your name. “Please. Use the words you want to use. I am here to listen. Always.” You are interrupted as Alexias Tia comes to claim her baby, who you hand back with a last pat on the stomach and raspberry to the cheek. You are trying to avoid the next 5 minutes you know will happen. Alexia is somewhat rude when her Tia offers her congratulations, eyes boreing into your head. You sweep your hair back as you face her, having had a moment to think you get your words out easier. “Alex, it’s okay. It was bound to happen one day. Don’t worry about it. Please. Go out with your friends. I will go to the meal as planned. I promise. Alba will drive me home later.” “No.” Alexia says desperately, clutching your hand in hers, “Let’s just go home, amor. Please.” “Ale I made a promise to your mami. I am going to eat. I will see you later.” you press a kiss to her cheek and wander off towards her family.  As she stands, watching you interact with her sister and her mami, her teammates call her over. She feels torn. She just wants to go home with you. She just wants to wrap you up in cotton wool and keep you in her arms. Safe. But you don’t want that right now, so she turns to do as instructed. Throwing one more glance your way, missing Albas worried face as she wipes a tear from your cheek.

Lonely and forgotten Never thought she'd look my way And she smiled at me and held me Just like she used to do Like she loved me When she loved me

You came home early. You asked if Alba could drop you off as soon as you had finished your meal. She was happy to oblige, worried about your silence the entire meal. You were looking down at your phone as you entered your apartment. Assuring Mapi again that you were fine and she should enjoy her drinks. You go to flick on the light in the living area when a stream of light below the door of your studio distracts you. You push the door open cautiously and see Alexia standing there, looking at your work in progress. It was different to your usual work. A close up sketch of a hand, wrapped around a flower, tenderly, it was in the early stages, you could see the lines of the palm and the blades of grass in the field behind. It was mounted onto canvas on your easel and the splashes of colour you had started to add contrasted against the paleness of the room. She hadn’t heard you enter, too lost in the image before her, but Pabs making a run for the door as it opened brought her attention to you. As you stand there, under her gaze, you struggle to remember the last time you saw Alexia in your studio. Yeah she would bob in to let you know dinner was ready, or that she was heading out, but she didn’t come in often enough to take in your work anymore. Now it wasn’t forced on her in the living space. It seemed Alexia had the same realisation as she broke her gaze with you and gestured towards your painting, and then further, to your desk overlooking the window, where more of your work lay. “You’re amazing. I didn’t… I.” a deep breath. “I hadn’t forgotten but I think I… Got lost? Somewhere along the way?” you tilt your head curiously. You don’t know what she’s talking about. “I have been a bad partner to you.” 

“Alex…” “No. I have. And I’m not interrupting you but I won’t let you lie to protect me.” her eyes go again to your easel. “You’re amazing. You are so talented. You are filled with so much kindness. You deserve so much more than this.” her eyes fill with tears and she looks at you. “I tried. You know? I promise I did. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought this,” she gestures towards you and around you “was what you deserved. And it is. But more than that you deserve everything.” She takes a step towards you and grasps your hands with hers, her hands are cold, you note. As you take her in you see dried tear tracks down her cheeks, and… damp hair. “Alexia, did you not go out with the team?” “How do you think that I could go out with the team after what I did?” she asks, aghast. The reminder of the way the evening went washes over you. Alexia panics when she sees your eyes fill with tears. And she pulls you into her chest. “I am so, so sorry mi amor. I am so sorry” she whispers into your hair. “I have broken something sacred between us. And I will never forgive myself.” she swears to you. Though that doesnt bring you any joy. “I forgive you Alex.” she shakes her head in despair, joining you in tears. “You said it was bound to happen someday,” she starts, “Do not think like that amor. It was not. This is not your fault. In any way. It is mine. Please don’t think that, you deserve to be heard. I am so so sorry. So sorry. I will never do it again, promesa.”  All you can do is nod into her chest.

She pulls you from the room and settles you both into the sofa, keeping the light off, only the skyline of the city illuminating your living room through the large, glassed wall. 

She lets you cry into her t-shirt, soaking it more than her damp hair, and through the darkness you pull away and take in her face, she looks youthful. Gone, the professional make up, the expensive jewellery, and hair darkened by the dampness from her shower. You take in a large choked breath. “We need to talk.” you let out. Fear takes over her features and she starts to shake her head. “No, Mi Conejito please no, don’t do this.” she wails. It is a heart wrenching sound. She thinks she's going to be sick. “Woah, woah, woah” you place your hands on her cheeks and pull her panicked eyes to yours; “Mi amor I am not breaking up with you.” you state, clearly. “I am not. Now breathe with me.” Her eyes steady from their darting around the room in fear, and you place your hand on her chest, making her breathe with you. “Okay, okay… okay. Yes, please. Talk to me.” she begs, trying to get oxygen back into her lungs.  “I feel alone. I feel… sa…sad. A lot of the time. And I know… you y…you aren’t doing it on pur…purpose.” Your girlfriend looks heartbroken. Like she had just found out her entire family had died. But refuses to interrupt you as you speak. But you have needed this conversation for so long, that the words start to tumble out of you. Getting lodged in your throat. Har large hand comes up to that familiar place, and massages the soft tissue behind your jaw. Trying to help you without interrupting. “You aren’t doing it on purpose.” you repeat. She pauses for a moment and doesn't ask what you thought she would. “Why am I making you anxious?” she asks, cutting through your thoughts. You move away from her and settle your elbows to your knees. Rubbing your face as you feel a large hand settle onto your back. You hated your stutter. You hated that it ruled your life, but most of all you hated how it exposed you. You were like a child who can’t hide a blush in front of their crush. “You aren’t, Alexia.” “Alex.” she corrects, “I am Alex to you” she insists, “your Alex. It’s just me, mi amor.” she looks at you desperately. “I feel alone, you are never here, and when you are here physically, you aren’t here in your head. Your head is in the clouds, it is with your agent, with your coach, it is not with me.” you’ve started now, so you won’t be able to stop yourself “it is me and Pabs and, even though you're dumb as bricks bebe, you're a better conversationalist than him” you try to joke, a half smile on your face. Which she matches, hand not stopping her ministrations on your back. 

“I cannot remember the last time we just sat together, the last time that we cooked together. Can you Alex?” you don’t receive a reply, 

“I haven’t had your eyes, look at me, really look at me for months. You give your time so easily to those around you, your team mates, people I see you out with at events. I can’t blame you, this is what you always dreamed of. But… I miss you.” Your speech is strong now; “and I love you. That will never change. But you need to know how I am feeling. So it's fair to you. I feel as though you are bigger than the world. And I am just the girl you saved in the art room.” She is openly crying now. “Don’t say that, you are everything” she mumbled, through tears. 

She knew that she had been busy. But she didn’t realise the damage that she had done. She had been to events, you had been at her side. But. When was the last time she asked about a wedding you’d worked? God, you used to sit for hours describing the beautiful scenes, and she’d store away ideas for your own wedding.  The last gallery you had shown at? When had she last visited your mami and papi, who had been there for her her entire life? She kept you off social media for your protection, but she didn’t mean to erase you. When had she become so god damn selfish. “Amor, I think that somewhere along the way, I had forgotten, and forgotten to remind you. There are more important things than football. Well. Football is second”.

You are thrown back to a memory, a school championship 15 years ago, sat on the bleachers watching your school get destroyed. The lanky football captain sat by your side. You can’t help it but tears fill your eyes. You missed her. That girl. The one you were and the one she was. “But.. you told me once, that I could have both.” she whispered, into your neck, “and you can, Alex. Of course you can. But you have to want both. And at the moment. It feels. It feels like you don’t want me.” “No! Mi Amor, Mi Vida, Mi Conejito. You are everything. Eres mi mundo. I am nothing without you.” she takes a breath, deep and shuddering. “I will fix this. Thank you for telling me how you feel. I have a chance to fix this. Si?” she asks, desperately. You nod, “Of course Alex, and it's for both of us to fix, I should have said something sooner.” She refuses your admittance of guilt and drags you into bed. She sticks to you like a second skin. Moves with you to brush your teeth. Standing waiting whilst you use the toilet. She places a fresh glass of water on your bedside table.You want to tell her to give you a bit of space, but the fear in her eyes prevents you from doing so. As soon as you crawl into your side of the bed she has pulled you into her embrace and the warmth that fills you goes beyond the shared body heat. For the first time in a long time, you wake up in the strong arms of Alexia. She hasn’t moved in the night an inch, and you take a moment to take her in. This is what you missed. Just breathing the same air as her. Just existing in the same space. As though she can feel you looking at her she begins to stir. Taking a moment to come to her senses, her arms grip you tighter around your waist. “Hola, Mi amor” she whispers into the air. Your response is a kiss to her lips, which she steals, hungrily. As you deepen the kiss you feel her begin to pull away. “Lo siento, mi amor, we cannot get carried away. Things to do.” your heart hurts again. You roll off the taller girl and reach for your phone as a distraction. 

You thought, maybe, just maybe, for today at least. You would spend the day together. “Things to do!” she repeats, jumping out of bed with glee. “Where’s your passport”. That grabs your attention. “Que?” you ask, confusingly. “Your passport amor, Vamos!” She had long ago left the bed, and had started moving around the room, picking up various bags which had definitely not been there when you went to bed and moving them into the hallway. She was like a ball of energy, she stripped off her oversized t-shirt she had worn to bed, leaving her standing in just her boxers. Your eyes widened at the sight. Well, you think, at least all the time not spent with you was doing something good. You find yourself in a trance, practically salivating at your view.

A change of clothes being thrown at your head brings you out of your stupor. “Dressed. Go.” Alexia teases you, definitely having caught you starting. This makes you finally start to move as you shrug on the jogging bottoms and hoodie she threw at you. Happily, you note, it's one of hers that you’ve already destroyed with paint marks on the cuffs. “Why do you need my passport Alex? What's with the bags?” “We’re going on vacation!” That stops you, half in, and half out of your hoodie. Getting yourself stuck. “Vacation?” you ask, voice muffled by the fabric. You hear Alexia make her way over to you, then feel her gently pull you free from your fabric prison. “Si…” she gently tells you. A look overcomes her face which you can’t distinguish, then she kisses your nose, softly. “Vacation. Just me and you amor.”

“But what about work?” you ask, still catching up. “You don’t have anything booked for 6 days, I checked your calendar. And where we are going, you can bring all your art things if you need them. I’ve packed the basics in my carry-on already.” “Not my work. Alex, your work. You have a busy week.” at this point you seem to have lost her attention as she turns to your question dismissively. “I cancelled it.” she replies, simply. “You cancelled it.” you repeat. “Si.” “Alexia! Have you lost your mind! You have training, you have that meeting with Oakley - you have the pre-euros media to do! You have a game in 3 days”  you reel off her calendar, watching as she continues to dress and pack her toiletries. She heaves out a sigh and turns back to you.

“Conejito, I know what I had, you don’t need to tell me I have just spent all night cancelling all of them. I spoke to Jona and he’s happy for me to miss the game. The rest of it doesn’t matter.” she moves closer to you again, “So no, I have not lost my mind. But, I did almost lose you, so please. Please tell me where your passport is so we can get on the plane I booked. Mapi will be here in a moment to take Pabs for the week.”  You find yourself standing there, stunned. She seemingly had thought of everything. You look into the hall at the bags packed there ready to go. Pabs sniffed them curiously. She’s looking at you with wide, expecting eyes. There's nothing else for you to do you suppose. As you turn from her and open your bedside table,  a smile can’t be kept off your face, you turn triumphantly with your passport held high. “Voila!” you present it to her; “What are you waiting for then Alex! We've got a plane to catch!” as you scurry out of the room and you hear the front door knock. Alexias cackle behind you. Alexia was always full of surprises when she wanted to be and she remained tight lipped all the way to the airport, refusing to tell you your destination. 

You assumed it would be one of the islands somewhere, with the size of her luggage maybe somewhere farther afield, sun, sea and a pool somewhere promised. But she shocked you. When you got to the check in desk and realised you were flying to Switzerland you could have been knocked down with a feather. Your Alex, who was upset when she even had to wear a bikini top in the month of August, has booked for you to go to Switzerland? 

She ignored your curious stare and just continued to sweet talk the check in lady, upgrading you to business class. As you descended hours later, between the snow peaked mountains against a stunning orange sun you couldn't believe what you were seeing. Your hands itched to claim the sketch book from Alexias carry on. Soon, after collecting your luggage and Alexia picking up a hire car that has also been pre booked (seriously did this girl sleep at all the night before?), you found yourself being driven through a mountain forest, as a lodge that seemed to cling to the mountainside came into view, isolated and beautiful. You stood on the wooden balcony, hands gripping a warm drink as you took in the view of the sun setting behind the mountains. “Look at that, Amor.” you felt, more than heard, whispered against your ear. Lips planting a kiss at your jaw as strong hands settle over your stomach. 

You fell back into her embrace. “It’s so beautiful.” you replied, eyes focused on the scene before you. “I saw this advert. Months ago.” she continued. “Just in the back of a catalogue at work. They will have the Euros near here, you know, 2025?” That made you snort with laughter. “Ah, I see Putellas, now it makes sense how you’ve been dragged from the beach, scoping out the environment are we? Anything for that competitive edge.” your teasing is clear in your voice. 

You feel a pinch on your stomach, “No, idiota,” though the laugh is clear in her voice. “I saw that advert and I couldn’t get it out of my head. It is so beautiful here.” you hum in agreement, “But what I could not get out of my head was that I wanted you to see it. I love seeing the world through your eyes.” 

She turns you in her embrace and she places a gentle kiss to your forehead as you feel her breathe you in. “You see things so beautifully, Amor, and then you paint them for the world to see. You are so special.” Your heart melts at the blonde, and you feel some of the despair that had settled into your stomach over the last months shrink. Here Alexia was, at work, flicking through some promotional material between interviews and training, and her thoughts are with you. “And I will not let you forget how special you are, ever. Never again”. You spent those days in pure bliss. You spend the days hiking - her pretending to be as tired as you at the peak of a mountain, she was a terrible actress but you appreciate the sentiment non the less - having picnics, exploring the mountain villages, and on one particularly spicy day, skinny dipping in an isolated mountain lake that a swiss teammate had told Alexia about. Evenings were spent looking up at the stars together, you firmly in alexias lap on the balcony, sharing a glass of wine which you held. She pointed out stars that her Papa had shown her and given silly names to, and you were there to catch her tears. She would complain only minimally that she was cold, and you would offer to warm her up and she would lead you gently into the bedroom. Nights spent in each other's embrace, sighs shared and no alarms to wake you. You would dance around the kitchen, play cards at the table, share wine and stories and just catch up. 

The pit in your stomach mended with each kiss, each peel of laughter and each stroke of the skin. 

One evening, after the skinny dipping adventure in which the footballer insisted that she must have hypothermia and had taken herself off over an hour ago telling you she wasn’t coming out of the warm shower until she had become a prune. You had started to add the finishing touches to a sketch of the scene beyond your lodges window when you felt the blonde return into the room, You eyed her quickly, flannel tartan pyjamas covering her tall frame, hanging over her wrists, matching shorts which are despicably short. Fuzzy socks on her feet. She looked absolutely adorable. 

You didn’t know why she was staring at you though, She moved towards you and you made space for her on the couch.  “You have your glasses on, Conejita.” she mumbled, and you reached up, as though to confirm they were on your face, “I didn’t know you still wore them.” You didn’t, too be honest, but with the long day of fresh air and a strong sun on the mountainside your eyes had grown tired. You shrugged at her, as she placed a soft kiss on your lips. Lovesick look in her eyes. “You’re so hot.” She mumbled, more to herself. You hear though, and the blush runs up your neck. 

You moved to get your work off your lap but she stopped you, pulling you back into her embrace and you automatically moved your knees up to rest your sketchbook there. “Carry on, please.” her chin rested on your shoulder. You hesitated, you didn’t come all this way to not spend time with the blonde, you wanted to soak in every minute. You wouldn’t be happy if she started to kick a ball around in the kitchen. She could sense your hesitation, “please. Remember, I like the sound of your pencil.” she moves your free hand to her bare thigh, “and it gives me goosebumps.” You fell in love again over those 6 days. You never fell out of it. But maybe you both just needed reminding. You felt whole, your communication about how you were feeling had worked, Alexia had listened. You just had one worry though, as the plane landed back in Barna you couldn’t hold it in. “Alex.” you said, before the seatbelt sign came on, gripping her arm lightly. “This was the best trip of my life. Thank you.” Her smile cracked her face, and she looked immensely proud of herself. “Mine too, Amor.” she agreed, easily, her face was peaceful . “But. I can’t go back to how things were again, si? I don’t think I could survive it, not after this week.” she's already shaking her head. “It won’t, I promise. I will not let that happen. Me and you, Si? That is all that is important” you take a moment, “And Pabs.” you amend for her, breaking the tension. “Si, of course” she rolls her eyes, “and Pablo Petcatso.” 

When somebody loved me Everything was beautiful Every hour we spent together Lives within my heart When she loved me

“Hey, Al?” you shout, into the living room as you enter your flat. It's been a few weeks since you returned from your impromptu get away. A busy few weeks. You have been booked up and Alex had to make up for the time she had lost, Barca were still in 4 competitions so the match load was heavy. You could see she was trying though, so that made the darkness that had started to creep back in more bearable. She wasn’t home from training yet. Which disappointed you more than usual. You were giddy. 

You had just found out that your art had been selected to be shown at a huge gallery opening in the centre of the city. An established and high-end gallery. It was a big deal, and it was potentially your big break. You got flutters in your stomach even thinking about the commissions it could make you. Pabs popped his head around the door and you picked him up giddily and span him around, his meow in response you took as a congratulations as you danced and laughed. You didn’t hear the door behind you open but you heard your favourite voice in the world, “And what have I walked into here, hey, a party with my favourite two? Without me?” Alexia laughed.  “Alex, we're celebrating!” you let Pabs free from your grip as he scurried away from his crazy mama. Her arms loop around you as you move into a slow dance, grinning up at her; “Ah, Si? And what are we celebrating?” “I got chosen! For the gallery!” Your feet leave the floor as the taller girl fully brings you into her arms, lifting you and spinning you around in glee, the squeal she lets out is full of childlike joy. “Of course you did! You are amazing!” she plops you back down and attacks your face with kisses. “I’m so proud of you Mi Amor and I am so excited to see your gallery. Oh I can get all dressed up and be your arm piece!” The thought brings you pure joy, the image of Alexia standing by your side, proudly, champagne in hand. Your Mami and Papi and Eli and Alba all present. Pabs in a little bow tie. “Si?” you ask, shyly, much more used to being by her side, “You’ll come? It is in 4 weeks. The 16th. You should be just starting on break.” A shadow of sadness passes her face at your insecurity, “Amor even if I was not on break I would not miss this for the world. If I had the world cup final I would call in sick. I will be there.  I will be the girl with the biggest bouquet of flowers in all of Barna with the lovesick look on her face.” It had been a whirlwind of a month, you had to put the finishing touches on your pieces. 

You have chosen to showcase your best landscapes. 

Scenes from the road to Valencia, The Square in Mollett, Beach Scenes in Barca, Snow capped mountains of Switzerland.

It was the story of your love for Alexia. Told through scenes only the two of you could understand the significance of. 

In the week leading up to the opening, you would spend late nights at the gallery, setting up lighting with Mapi and your Papi. Eli would walk around straightening frames on the walls. As you settled into bed each night, Alexia would open her arms and bring you into her warn embrace. 

You couldn’t wait to share your love story with the world. Alexia was having a bad day. It started bad. And continued to be bad. First, she woke up alone, which she hated. 

She recalled a kiss to the forehead and a whispered ‘I'll see you later’ before she'd dozed back off.  Then she realised that she had forgotten to charge her phone and was therefore late to training. Well. Not late for normal people. But late for Alexia. Then she forgot her socks and had to steal some of Irenes. She had a bad training session and Patri beat her in all their 1v1’s. And then the icing on the cake. She was dragged out from her gym session to do media which she hated. By the time she had finished the changing rooms were mostly empty, with only Pina and Patri left, scheming together in a corner.

“Ah now, Capi! Turn that frown upside down!” Pina teased her, “Ay, come out for a drink with me and Patri, the girls are all coming later, a bonding session before the break!”

And Alexia would usually say no, she wasn’t one for massive social events. But a drink sounded good. And it was the last day of training before the break.

Which is how she found herself 4 drinks in, deep in a booth in Patris favourite bar downtown. Most of the girls had joined them and laughter and chatter filled the roped off space. Something was missing and it took Alexia a moment to realise that there wasn’t a yapping in her ear.

“Ay, Pina, where are Mapi and Ingrid?” 

“They text the group, they had something on but they’re going to join us after. Ah… here they are!” Pina turned as Patri dragged her to the dance floor. Alexia turned to where Pina had pointed and saw Ingrid and Mapi walking towards her. She smiled and raised her hand in a wave, as they got closer she took in their state of dress; “Ay, sexy mamas, it’s only a night out with the team. Why are you dressed so nice? Have you just come from your wedding?” Mapi looked at Alexia. But really, really looked at her. “What?” nothing. “Maria, what? Why are you looking at me like that? Ingrid?” she faced the usually kind woman but she wasn’t met with her usual smile, “What’s happening? Wh-ohmygod.” It hit Alexia like a freight train. Like 10 freight trains. She physically had to hold onto the chair to her side to remain standing.  “No, no, no, I didn’t, I couldn’t have done.” She starts to pat herself down and pulls her phone out, dead, still uncharged from the night before. She holds it up to Mapi, as evidence, evidence of what she doesn’t know. As though it gives her a lifeline. She knows it doesn’t. “Ingrid? Ingrid please tell me I didn’t miss it.” she asks, desperately. The tall girl looks away, as though she can’t even face what the captain had done. “Alexia.” The rage is barely contained in Mapis' voice. “I can’t even look at you.” Mapi turns to leave, but it's as though her anger wont let her; she turns again and spits out; “Do you think she needed a reminder on her phone to know when the Champions League final was? Do you think… I can’t… I have just come from her gallery opening. Her life's work. A life shared with you. And here you are. At a bar. Celebrating, what?  A game of football? A half season well done? Fuck off. Seriously. Fuck. Off” Ingrid grips her hand and tries to pull her away. All Alexia can do is stand there and take it, it's not a hundredth of what she deserves. “No Ingrid.” She pulls her hand free and pushes her finger into Alexia's chest. “You are a selfish monster. She thought you must be hurt. That's what she thought. She thought you were in a ditch somewhere. She almost cancelled the whole thing to run around hospitals to find you. But then Alba saw you on Patris instagram. And here you are. La Reina.” Mapi looks her up and down, pure disgust on her face. “Your Mamis held her as she sobbed. Alba redid her makeup. I would steer clear of her Papi for months if I were you. She is strong, and she gave a speech.” Alexia couldn’t breathe. You gave a speech? She wasn’t there. She wasn’t there.  “Please, Maria, stop. I can’t listen.” Alexia couldn’t take it. She moved Mapis' hand off her chest and ran to the door of the club. One thought in her mind. Get to you. Get to you. “It's too late Alexia.” Mapi shouts to her back. She ignores her. It can’t be. No It can't be. She jumps out of the uber onto the unfamiliar street. The lights to the gallery are off but she desperately tries the door regardless. Banging on it with her fist in frustration. She lets out a scream into the empty street. Peering through the windows she sees wall after wall of your work. Scenes she recognises from her life. Football pitches. Beaches, Mountains. The scene from your balcony in Mollet. It was all so beautiful. So carefully curated. And she wasn’t there. She takes off at a run. It’s not too late. Mapi is wrong. It’s not too late. She will die if it is too late. “Y/N!” she barged into the apartment. She must have ran 10 miles. “Y/N are you here?” She runs from room to room. But there is no one there. When that's established she plugs her phone into the charger on the breakfast bar and makes her way back through the apartment. She goes into the bedroom. No, please no. The wardrobe is open, your side is empty. She looks around. Your things are gone.

The kitchen remains largely unaffected. Though the picture of you and your parents no longer sits on the shelf. Your trainers are gone from the hall. Your favourite blanket from the couch. She looks at the walls. Anything you had painted. Gone. Alexia always insisted that your art be on the walls, in each home you shared together. “Why would I want strangers work on the walls, Mi Amor? When I have the best artist in the world here?” she would say, making you blush. She was addicted to that blush. She walks back into the hallway. One picture remains in pride of place. The picture you presented to her in her darkest moment. You would never take that away from her. It was a gift of pure adoration. All it does is make the stabbing pain in Alexia's heart worsen. She pushes open the door to your art studio. All that remains are paints and blank canvases. Except. In the middle of the room. The easel. A picture she had seen before, in its early stages. A hand. A hand holding a beautiful flower. But it had changed somehow. Pressure lines had appeared. The flower beginning to wilt under the force. It wasn’t your usual work. Alexia stood closer. Entranced. As she inspected the image she saw the light tease off still wet paint. You had touched this up recently. Her eyes search, frantically for anything of your last moments in the apartment when she catches it. Too light for anyone not searching for it. 11. Blended into skin at the wrist of the image. A tattoo. So lightly painted but it etched itself fiercely into Alexia's soul. This was her hand. This hand that was silently destructive, was hers.  She saw a post it note stuck to the leg of the easel and in your looping handwriting: ‘Love is giving someone the power to destroy you and trusting that they won't use it.’

She brought her hand up to her mouth and let out an audible gasp. She runs into the kitchen and dry heaves over the sink. There, she watches as her tears splash into the marble. And as she watches. She takes note of a single paint droplet. Her tears joined it, creating the most heart crushing piece of work she had ever seen.

God. She used to get so angry at that paint in the sink.

It's been years, she thought, years since she found paint in the sink. How much did you have to lessen yourself in order to be with her?

She collapsed into a seated position. Back against the kitchen cabinet. And brought her knees to her chest. She sobbed. And sobbed. She was joined at one point by Pabs. She thought you’d taken him with you. But no, in a typical act of kindness you wouldn’t leave her alone in her despair.

His little bow tie still sat around his neck, skew-whiff, as he looked at his mama curiously. He licked her nose and she sobbed harder.

Weeks passed.

She doesn’t know how she got through those weeks. Thousands of missed calls. Hundreds of messages. Went unanswered.

Alexia didn’t hear from you. Her Mami and Alba had forgiven her after Alba had found her in a state and unable to look after herself but they made it clear they were on your side. Mapi wouldnt look at her. They wouldn't tell her where you were, they wouldn’t pass on any message.

She was too frightened to go to your Mami and Papa.

She hadn’t trained well for weeks, She arrived at training exhausted. Sleep would never find her. She was barely clinging on. Jona still insisted she play. She was La Reina.

And then she broke. And that's where Irene found her, after another match of lacklustre performance. In a back corridor of the stadium. Broken and staring at the wall in front of her.

A ghost of the woman she was. 

Her phone lay next to her. A message from you. A response to her apologies, her thoughts, the pain she had told you she felt for your failed relationship. 

Finally, Word you were alive. 

3 words in fact. “It’ll pass Alexia.”

[whumblr]

Tumbling down

Crossed out - Continued from ch.6 - Prologue

-

Forced back on his feet, thrown out of Nero’s office, the door slammed shut behind him. The noise vibrated right through him and it felt like his head was about to split open.

Lucas caught himself as he nearly sank to his haunches. He gripped his head tight, groaned as he lightly leaned forward. Please, please, don’t be a concussion. But well, if it was, what was he gonna do about it?

Left to fend for himself, he stumbled along the hallway, gripping and pawing his way along the wall for support. Though short, that beating was nothing but severe. A severe warning. Meaning things could only get worse…

Taking a deep breath and checking himself before he entered the common space back to his cell, he clenched his jaw. With some effort he stood straight and walked in, desperately trying to make it seem like nothing had happened to him.

Though a little slower than usual, with his body wanting nothing more than to slump over and each step requiring enormous strength, he dragged himself up the stairs, ignored all eyes on him, and shuffled towards his cell.

One of his neighbours leaned against the bars of cell from the inside, arms resting on the horizontal bar, dangling out. His cellmate, outside, leaning back against the railing of the pathway, stopped mid-conversation and pressed himself back to let Lucas pass.

“Whoa man, you alright?”

Lucas stopped.

It was a simple question. Yet it pierced his guard and shook him right to his core. It forced him to acknowledge what happened, and worse, forced his mind to catch up with the state of his body.

His throat tightened and he swallowed hard. Forced a smile, forced himself to take another shaky step towards his cell, and he heard himself squeak, voice a little higher than usual: “Yeah... Yeah, I’ll be fine, thanks.”

Not yet. He swallowed again, forcing the lump down.

He made it to his cell, shed himself from the concerned gazes on his back as he disappeared from sight, and collapsed onto his cot.

The question still rang through his mind. Was it the genuine concern that got to him? Or did the question hit something deeper? Because, no, he was not alright. But if he admitted to that… then – Nero’s voice echoed in the back of his mind – he’d know what to do tomorrow.

And he wasn’t going to do that. Meaning he’d have to go through this again. Tomorrow. The day after. And Nero wouldn’t stop after three blows…

He stifled a sniffle. Not yet! Squeezed his eyes shut. They might come see if you’re alright. Stay quiet, pretend you’re asleep.

So he waited. Laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, just… existing. He didn’t acknowledge the pain rumbling through his body, didn’t engage with the worries screaming in his mind, because if he did—

He waited. Waited until the buzzer announced lights out in five minutes. Waited until everyone was in their cell, until no one would pass by his anymore, until no one would have the opportunity to check in on him, see if he was alright, or mock his weakness.

And when the lights went out with a plastic ting and the chorus of metal scraping the cell doors shut had ceased with a loud clang—

The first tear tickled down his cheek.

And it burst out.

He pressed his pillow over his face, desperately trying to keep his sharp heaves from slipping free. He couldn’t stop it; all emotions finally broke free from the cage where he’d stowed them all. He wanted to scream, but even muffled screams carried well through the silence of night. And he didn’t want to be the hot topic discussed over breakfast tomorrow.

Everything, not just the beating from tonight, everything that had happened these last couple of days, everything he’d had to bury, came crashing over him.

When your world comes tumbling down, it’s not just one thing.

When it rains, it pours. The water steadily rising right up to your neck, sure. But it also corrodes everything around you. It slowly tears down the wall of the world you’ve build around you, the world that you trusted. And that trust suddenly collapsed in on itself, large chunks breaking off, splashing into the water around you, and you’re surrounded by the remnants.

It wasn’t just his freedom that they’d taken. The life he had. It was his faith in the system. The system he worked for. The system that now worked against him and was exploited with loopholes and carelessness to keep him here.

He’d had clients of course who had treated him with outright contempt, convinced he wasn’t there to help them but make things worse. He’d always tried to prove otherwise. Tried to prove the system not only worked, but worked for them.

But now… now he started to see where that contempt came from. It’s a tough system to fight. Once you’re in, it’s hard to get out. Especially if you’ve got no one in your corner.

Luckily he had. Thank god he had put his trust in Ava, shared the story when he could. And now, he had all hopes pinned on her. He just had to hold on. Had to.

He flipped his pillow so he wouldn’t feel the cold tear stains press against his cheek. A final soft sniffle and he closed his eyes. Better out now than bursting into tears in Nero’s office. At least it calmed him down. Or well, more likely he was just empty; hollowed out, having finally given in to all emotions. Only the dull pain throbbing with every heartbeat kept circling through him.

Scare tactics, he tried to tell himself, resting an arm over his eyes. This was all just scare tactics. Only it would leave him with more bruises and maybe even broken bones every day, every night. Until he was so scared that he’d cave.

He turned over, exhaustion washing over him. He was glad he was alone, didn’t have a cellmate. Now at least he could break down in peace and in silence with everyone stuck in their own cells. Alone with no one to distu—

His eyes snapped open.

Footsteps sounded through the silent hall, metal echoing under heavy boots.

No… no, no, no. He recognised that slow footfall, those deliberate steps. Fear gripped him tight, despite his protests, froze his limbs. What was this? Going for just desserts?! Because he wasn’t hurting enough yet and he couldn’t wait until tomorrow?

The footsteps got closer and closer, and Lucas could feel his heart pounding against his ribs. But then they stopped. Farther away than he’d expected.

He opened his eyes. There was no dark silhouette in front of his door. The shrill creak of a cell door opening pierced through the air and thank god it wasn’t his.

Despite all warning bells, he slipped out of bed and tiptoed to the door, peeking through the bars.

It was indeed Nero standing outside one of the cells.

Graff, the man who had tried to protect his cellmate the other day stepped out. Deflated, defeated, but without prompting and without a word, a certain determination – maybe even relief – in his posture, as if he’d been waiting for this. Nero stepped back to let him walk ahead.

The two silhouettes walked off. A door fell shut. And silence draped over the cell area once again, as if nothing had happened.

Lucas retreated back to bed, but kept listening intently for that silence to be broken again, for shuffling footsteps not unlike his own that signalled Graff returning. But nothing happened. And he couldn’t fight sleep off any longer.

The next morning he quickly got dressed – fast as he could – and stood outside his cell before his door had even fully opened.

Yawning and stretching, the other prisoners followed suit, falling into rank. Except for one cell, where the door was open, but no one stepped outside.

An ominous feeling swirled around his stomach, though some relief mixed in when he saw Nero wasn’t making the morning rounds today. One of the regular guards did rollcall and didn’t even glance in his direction nor reminded him of his impending doom for that evening. Guess Nero didn’t do both night and morning shifts.

During breakfast, Lucas glanced around the cafeteria, but didn’t see Graff anywhere. Nor his cellmate.

He did spot Marcus, but decided against sitting with him. He didn’t want to follow the first guy that had been somewhat kind to him around like a duckling. Also, he couldn’t bear to have Marcus’ eyes roam the fresh bruises on his face, see the disappointment in his eyes that he hadn’t listened to his warning.

Instead, he sat with some of the guys he worked with. Could feel their stares poking at the bruise across his face, but they didn’t say a word. Overall, they didn’t seem surprised.

“Have you guys seen Graff?”

“Karl? Saw Nero march off with him last night so, infirmary, probably.”

That was what Lucas suspected too, but to hear it confirmed so casually… “But he didn’t do anything wrong?”

A short silence. Then one of the men spoke quietly, a hint of remorse in his voice.

“We don’t decide on that.”

-

Continued here

Tag list: @gala1981 @chaotic-orphan @lolrpop

@andithewhumper @tippytappytyping @suspicious-whumping-egg

@cherrychupachup @alexmundaythrufriday

[basichextechml]

Wet Braids and Ribbon Ties

Wednesday Addams/Fem!Reader

Rating: Teen // 2.4K Words // No pronouns used for reader, but implied Fem, Soft as hell, Teen for graphic jokes and it being somewhat suggestive at the end, Wednesday being someone emotionally vulnerable, Makeout sesh 

A storm brings you closer to Wednesday than you’d ever thought it could.

---

     Pattern recognition was a necessary trait of human evolution, and essential for the continued survival of any species. Those that came before you had used it to scavenge food, tame animals, create languages, and form communities. Sure, you were still doing these things, but it was less urgent, society collectively pushing past those base instincts to refine such senses. Vaguely, you wondered if your ancestors would be a bit disappointed that your brain’s neocortex was being used to psych yourself out over the sight of braids. While they were trying to figure out what berries and fruits wouldn’t kill them, you were worrying about Wednesday Addams and her twin braids that seemed to haunt you. Though, you guess it wasn’t their fault that you had pavlov'd yourself into associating the hairstyle with pretty brown eyes and a penchant to make your heart race.

     It was all made much worse by the storm that had been rapidly approaching Nevermore. Again, ancestors fighting for their lives in the elements- while you were fighting for your life at the sight of Wednesday with water droplets clinging to her lashes.

     Wednesday’s investigation into the murders around the town had all but halted, all her leads running dry. The Sheriff wasn’t responding to her evidence, and Xavier hadn’t made any moves- but she still felt a pull in her chest, like something was missing. She had requested (demanded) that you follow her to the Gates mansion to poke around once more. Enid had vehemently rejected both of your requests to follow.

     “What time are we going then?” You ask, leaning against her bed frame as you watch her fill up a bag with flashlights, rope, and a first aid kit.

     She zips the bag shut in finality, “Tomorrow night, after curfew. We’ll have to walk, so wear a jacket.” It seems she never got over the time you wore a tank top in 45-degree weather and you kept putting your freezing hands on the back of her neck.

     “Isn’t there a storm coming, though?” She raises an eyebrow as if asking ‘so?’, “We don’t know how structurally sound that place is, what if it floods?”

     Wednesday lets out a quiet huff, lips pursed in a thin line, contemplating your words. Finally, she concedes. “You’re right, be ready to leave at 4. I’ll meet you in front of your dorm.”

     Okay, yeah that seemed more reasonable-

     “4? Like four in the morning?” You questioned incredulously, arms crossed in front of your chest.

     There was a ghost of a smile at your confusion, an inherent pride to it. “I thought you wanted to beat the rain?”

     While Wednesday had pavlov'd herself into being associated with the debilitating symptoms of falling in love, you also came to associate the girl and her long, dark braids with the troubling feeling of everything going wrong at once.

---

     Stupid Pavlov. Stupid neocortex. Stupid pattern-seeking brain.

     Due to years of evolution, you were now trudging through cold sheets of rain in a forest with the girl you liked looking for clues on a murder investigation at 4:48 in the morning. Your boots making contact with the mud made terrible squelching noises as you both slowly made your way back to Nevermore, the only sound between you being that of twigs snapping beneath your weight.

     This endeavor had resulted in nothing, it was a long shot if Wednesday was being honest. She had already found the evidence once in the basement, and it had been moved when she came back. Why would the perpetrator come back to the home? She had no clue- but she had nothing else to go on, and was feeling a bit -to her disgrace- defeated. While she was in the middle of looking around the basement for the umpteenth time, the storm predicted on the forecast came early, The house, just as you had predicted, began flooding, cutting her even deeper.

     Now, with no fruits born of her labor, and your cold hand in hers guiding her through the dawn of a new day; you were slowly and surely going home.

     As the lights of Nevermore Academy shone through the thicket of the forest, you both continued on your leisurely pace, despite the pouring rain. You both were already wet, running would do you no good now. Despite the shiver that ran down your spine at the nipping cold, you were fine with staying outside a little longer.

     “I’m sorry,” Wednesday said suddenly. The apology nearly made you stop in your tracks, looking at her in disbelief. Never had Wednesday apologized to you- for anything.

     The look on your face, as if you weren’t trusting the words she was saying, snapped at the strings of Wednesday’s heart. Enid’s words come back to haunt her, tearing into her about her inconsiderate nature. She’s sure you’d been made to feel that way as well. It was confusing. She should feel overjoyed at the misery of others. But seeing you by her side, being soaked head to toe by the rain, chilled to the bone? She was just as miserable as you.

     “I’m sorry.” She reiterates, knowing fully that you heard her the first time.

     “You don’t have to apologize-”

     “I do.” The words are biting, and that does stop you in your tracks, inadvertently stopping her as well. Wiping the rain from your eyes, you look down at your interconnected hands. This was the longest you had ever touched her. The longest she’d ever let you touch her. “I have been… Selfish, as of late. And for that, I apologize. I am single-minded, I put you in danger, and I…”

     You watch with a hitched breath as she avoids eye contact. This is difficult for her. Her shoulders are rigid, her mouth tense, and her hands twitching. The rain pelts down on you both, and you suddenly feel like you’re the main characters in a film.

     “I believe I’ve hurt you, so I’m sorry.”

     She looks terribly beautiful, hair sticking to her face in waves, her lips, and her nose the brightest red you’ve seen on her, doe eyes big with her eyeliner running from the rain. You simply squeeze her hand thrice. As unhealthy as it may sound, you had already forgiven her for anything she had done long ago- and you’d continue to do so, as long as she kept dragging you around with her hand in yours.

     “Thank you, Wednesday. I accept your apology.” And, again, you mean it. Pulling her a bit closer, just so your shoulders knock together, you begin your journey once again. “Now come on, I think we should both get dry before we die horrible deaths from contracting pneumonia.”

     “I believe we have conflicting ideas on what constitutes a “horrible death”.”

     “I’m sure we do, Wednesday.”

     You both gingerly sneak through the door and through the foyer, tracking mud on the carpet up the stairs. Wednesday makes you stop once you get to the top, and take off your shoes so you don’t track the mud back to the dorms- so Principle Weems doesn’t suspect you two. Though, you think it’s a lost cause because you’re both the number one suspects for anything slightly off that happens.

     Your dorm is closer, and quietly, in the early morning embers, you usher Wednesday into your room, locking the dorm behind you.

     The single dorm you resided in was smaller than the rest, the space easily filled up by your belongings. But you wouldn’t be caught dead asking to switch, you liked having your privacy- a rarity at a boarding school.

     Wednesday is already making herself at home, leaving her shoes at the door and shrugging off her coat and scarf. “You can shower first.”

     “Are you sure?” You ask, doing the same. Wordlessly, she takes your own jacket from your hands, spreading it on the floor next to hers. The space heater you have for nights like these is already cranked on high.

     “Yes,” Wednesday confirms, sitting down in front of the machine, “I just need some time to think.”

     “Alright, I’ll be quick.”

     You’re true to your word, grabbing your pajamas and heading to the bathroom. The shower feels nice on your frigid skin, and you make sure everything is still organized for when it’s Wednesday’s turn. An extra towel is left on the sink once you’re done. She’s sitting in the exact spot you’d left her, the lines troubling her forehead just as prominent. You search through the black clothes in your closet, pulling out a pair of sweats and a matching sweater with some socks, and tapping her shoulder. “Your turn,” You mumble, presenting your offering.

     Her fingers linger on yours, the shadows and movements emphasized by the low lights in your room. The clothes are held away from her still-wet body, and she gets up, closing the bathroom door behind her. As you hear the shower start again, you put your towel on the floor, mopping up any water that had dripped off of her.

     This evening hadn’t gone as you thought it would’ve. It was like that morality test, if an oncoming train had its brakes cut, and you had to choose between crushing six people or one, what would you choose? You, of course, were all seven people- you would die either way. That made Wednesday the train, didn’t it?

     Before you knew it, the door to your bathroom opened again, Wednesday stepped out in your clothes, using the towel you’d given her to scrunch the water out of the ends of her hair.

     Your mouth felt dry like you were at the dentist getting a tooth pulled, and they had to suction all the saliva from it.

     “Do you have a brush?” She asked. Getting up from your spot on the floor, you flitted around your desk, grabbing the one you’d left next to your vanity mirror. Holding it for a moment, you contemplated your next words.

     “Could I do it?”

     Time stood still in your dorm, fingers nervously pushing over the prongs on your brush as you awaited a response.

     Wednesday felt warm. Swallowing her tongue and sitting down on your bed, cross-legged. “You may.”

     Her hair was long and thick, pitch black as the night sky, and softer than anything you’d felt before. She smells faintly of your shampoo, and you find yourself light-headed as you gingerly rake your fingers through the ends of her hair, ridding it of any tangles. Starting at the ends, you slowly brush through the damp hair, working your way up. It’s longer than you had initially thought, undone of its iconic braided style.

     Wednesday felt nearly naked with her hair unstyled and wet in your hands. The brush working against her scalp treated her so tenderly. As if you would rather walk through the fires of hell than yank against a strand of her head. She licked her lips, eyes suddenly watery. She had forgotten what tenderness had felt like these past few years. She believed she didn’t need it. Maybe she was wrong.

     Using your nail to part her hair in two, you push both sections over her shoulders, and the bed creaks as you get off to sit in front of her.

     The girl who avoided your gaze when apologizing earlier is gone, and instead wholly intent on looking at you as you finger comb through the section of hair on her left shoulder. Deftly, you split it into another three, even sections, slowly beginning to put together her signature braids. Wednesday watches as your lashes flutter while you concentrate, enamored with how you lick your lips and twitch your nose. You’re engrossed in her. Sitting here in your clothes, letting you do her hair, she must be equally captivated.

     You get to the end of the first braid before you notice an issue. “I don’t have a tie,” You announce, pouting.

     “I left them in the bathroom,” Wednesday says, already getting up. But you stop her.

     “Wait-” And you're leaning over to your desk, rummaging through the top drawer. Pulling out two strands of black ribbon, you’re back in your spot in front of her. She’d seen them in your hair before. Setting one down in your lap, nimble fingers keep her braid in place while the other positions the ribbon. Soon enough, she had a perfect little bow tying the braid together. You start immediately on the next one.

     Wednesday Addams has bows in her hair.

     Once you’re confident they’re even, you lean back, eyes immediately shooting up to her neglected bangs. Taking the forgotten brush, you lean in. Much closer than necessary for the task, but instead of pushing you away, she tries to see if she can feel your breath. Rounding off her bangs, you discard the brush for a final time, hands coming up to finger curl the longer ends, framing the hollow of her cheeks perfectly. Your hands settle on the curves of her jaw.

     Her pupils are blown wide, eyes narrowed dangerously, and you feel like a meek hare in front of a desert viper. You’re sure her venom would sting, and you’d be happy to let it flow through you.

     She lets her fangs sink into you, pulling you in until her lips connect with yours. Unlike her demeanor, she was soft against you, hands coming up to the nape of your neck to keep your lips flush against hers. The warmth of your sweater and your hands and your lips are too much and not enough, and when you finally pull away to catch your breath- cheeks hot and eyes lidded- she finds you irrevocably adorable. She understands why Anaconda kill and eat their mate. If you don’t stop looking at her like that, you’ll undoubtedly meet the same demise. Wednesday finds herself pushing you down, pillows cushioning your fall as you lazily bring her back into your embrace.

     As the clocks crawl forward, you both stay the same, warm and flush against one another. And as the clock strikes 8:30am, you’re both broken from your reverie.

     “Good Morning everyone,” Principle Weems sounds from the intercom, “Due to the storm, faculty has made the decision to cancel classes and extracurricular activities for the remainder of the week. If the storm lets up, this schedule is subject to change. Stay dry everybody!”

     A bit late for that.

     “We’ll be staying here.” Wednesday decides for you both, already pulling you back in. You kiss against her jaw in agreement, fingers pulling apart the bows in her hair.

---

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it, please consider reblogging, I'd really appreciate it! As always, my asks are always open to talk ^-^

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1CbNa8jneefleLKCK98HHC?si=1c7e5b671ae14e42

[whoistartaglia]

new year’s eve kisses

includes: xiao, diluc, al haitham. 

warnings: gender neutral reader, fluff. 

notes: happy almost new years! i think i’m going to make another part with more characters tomorrow? anyways, i hope you enjoy.

xiao. 

to kiss you, or not to kiss you. xiao doesn’t know the answer to that question, but in about five minutes it’s going to be midnight and xiao’s going to have to decide. 

xiao wants to kiss you, but should he? you sit next to him, eyes trained on the television as the countdown reaches four minutes left. xiao thinks he should, especially after regretting not doing so last year. he only came to his new year’s eve party because you would be here. 

but still, xiao also doesn’t want to ruin your friendship; he couldn’t think of a worse way to start off the new year. 

xiao sighs. he shouldn’t do this. it isn’t worth potentially losing you. 

the countdown reaches its final ten seconds. xiao just wants to get it over with. 

five seconds. four. three. two. 

“happy new years,” you whisper to xiao. when the clock strikes one, the room errupts in laugher and applause, but xiao can’t focus on any of that when your lips are on his check. it’s a peck, barely even a kiss, but xiao blushes all the same. 

you pull back and smile at him. before xiao can even think about what to say back, you wink at him. “we’ll do it properly next year.”

diluc. 

diluc stands on the balcony, needing a reprieve from the very loud and very chaotic new year’s eve party inside. you find your boyfriend gazing out over the city and come to stand next to him. 

“look at them,” you say, gazing down at the city streets packed with people below. soon, steamers and confetti would rain down on them, each one with a wish for the new year. “there’s so many.”

diluc murmurs his agreement, but doesn’t say much else. you give him a sidelong glance and continue: “you don’t look very excited.”

“it’s just another year,” diluc says with a shrug. 

“but it’s the beginning of it.”

“i guess.”

down below, the countdown begins. the entirety of the city takes it up: the people below, those on balconies similar to yours, the party guests inside. 

“i don’t really like celebrating the new years, but it’s a tradition,” diluc continues. he turns to you then, and as the clock strikes twelve and the city errupts in celebration, he murmurs, “and so is this.”

it’s then that he kisses you, a sweet and gentle thing. diluc pulls away after, and you smile at each other. 

a happy new years, indeed. 

al haitham. 

“don’t… fall asleep…” you murmur to al haitham. you lean against him on the couch, your eyes heavy. you can’t focus on the new year’s eve program on the television; it only serves to further lull you into sleep. 

your eyes shift towards the clock. it’s only half after ten, and you’re both about to fall asleep. it was pathetic really. you used to pull all-nighters and stay awake until the sun came up all the time. the past you would be disappointed. 

“i’m… not,” al haitham responds with a yawn. 

“yeah… right…” you say. you close your eyes, and too tired to reopen them, you drift off to sleep. 

when you wake up, you’re confused: why are you on the couch instead of your bed? in the living room instead of your nice bedroom? and what’s on the television, and what time is it—

“hey! hey, wake up!” you whisper-yell, starting to sit up. 

al haitham pulls you back to his chest and murmurs: “five more minutes.”

“no, no five more minutes,” you say. you try to wrestle yourself out of his arms, but al haitham’s grip is tight. “it’s new year’s day! we slept past midnight.”

“oh,” he says. “so?”

“so?” you ask. “so fell asleep, we missed the celebration, and… and you didn’t kiss me.” the last words come out in a rush, and you actually a little upset you missed that. al haitham must sense that because he pressed a chaste kiss against your forehead.

“there,” he says, his voice still sleepy. “a new year’s kiss.” you blush, that kiss more intimate than any other make out session you might’ve had last night. 

[lowcosmic]

—— because nothing compares to you .

— 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 : kokichi messed up , you’re temporarily gone , and he has to spend that time alone.

— 𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚 : angst & fluff ( hurt -> comfort )

— 𝙘𝙬 : mentions of bad eating , sleep deprivation , fighting , sad stuff ( but resolved with a happy ending )

— 𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨 : the request was too long to fit on here , it’d make up the entire story itself.

↳ kokichi spun a pencil around with his fingers , mindlessly thinking about yesterday. he glanced over to your empty seat. maybe he was too harsh on you. you’d definitely come back tomorrow , right?

→ the day before , you’d fought with each other. or , more like kokichi was fuming at you and you were just listening. even if you did decide to speak , he’d just slam your words down and mix them up to be an accusation. he’d said some pretty bad stuff , and he thoroughly regretted them now that he was looking back.

→ and then he’d just left you there. he didn’t break up or anything , he just left the room with the tension still up in the air. he didn’t even apologize for all the things he said and couldn’t take back.

→ kokichi had been “ blinded by rage , ” and as he’s heard before , anger can make you say things you’ll regret.

→ right after class , he messaged you immediately. no response came , even after the twentieth time. then he gave up and went to your house instead.

→ sprinting to your house , he got reminded on how you’d , after every school day , offer to take him home instead of walking the way. his heart stung even more.

→ when he got there , he pounded on the door. realizing no one was home , he went to the neighbors instead. he refrained from knocking down their door to ask for answers , but he did knock rather hurriedly.

→ your neighbor came out , and kokichi quickly pushed the question he’d had lodged in his throat out. “ do you know where (s/o) is? ”

→ “ ahh — they left early in the morning to go on a trip. they’ll come back , as it’s only a well deserved vacation i’m presuming. ” as kokichi listened , he thought to himself , “ well … could be worse. was this … what they were trying to tell me yesterday? …

→ he would be okay. you would be okay. everything would be okay. he’d apologize and everything would be resolved. it just had to.

→ things were not going well the first few days. kokichi had grown self aware to everything you did for him ; from self care like eating proper meals and comfort of having someone to talk to who wouldn’t scorn him every time he walked past , to someone to help him stay energized by driving him home on your motorcycle or even just cuddling with him when he needed it. he missed you dearly.

→ even worse — what if something happened to you? you didn’t respond at all — what if something bad happened? did your plane crash? — no , if it had , he would’ve heard something about that. maybe you just lost your phone or … maybe you were simply ignoring him out of spite.

→ he felt sick , physically and mentally. he hadn’t eaten healthily due to the sick feeling he got whenever he ate , just because it reminded him of you and some of his last words to you before you left. what if you found someone better? he deserved to be dumped. you deserved better.

→ on day six , he was flat out broke. he never found any reason to get a job yet , mostly because you’d help him with purchases. he had a cold from walking in the rain to avoid paying to go home. he felt horrible.

→ unlike his usual character , he had trouble keeping up a devious persona everyday without you , as silly and weak as it sounded. where did that “ i can do everything by myself ” kokichi go? was he fully gone? he just wouldn’t , and couldn’t , accept that yet. he swore later that he’d become more independent , and not let you dote on him so much anymore.

→ homework and tests? forget it. he forgot it often because he was busy hanging out with his dice gang to soothe himself a bit , not that it helped tons. he also forgot because you’d be there to remind him. if it weren’t for his capable mind , he would’ve flunked — but thankfully , he’s kokichi.

→ and then there was the issue of not sleeping. his thoughts were muddled with you. he’d hug his pillow and blankets that still smelt of you from when you were there to stay over for a few days. he’d listen to some of your favorite music tracks. but it wasn’t the same without you.

→ he waited. and waited. and waited some more.

→ message after message he sent everyday , nothing went through. until …

ding! kokichi lifted himself up from his pillow with a jolt. you replied. pictures and descriptions of where you were , what you were doing , why some of the messages may have not gone through … a signal issue. suddenly , his phone began vibrating consistently due to a flooding of messages to him — all about your days and such. and at the end … over the days , kokichi had messaged you with apologies stacked on top of each other. and at the end , an apology of your own waited for him. it was stupid , whatever he argued with you on. he didn’t understand why you’d apologize over that. and once you video called him , he made sure to say that.

→ he’d hold in his crying , both in relief and overwhelming stress. and then he heard that you were home.

→ it was pouring out , but kokichi couldn’t care less. he was meeting with you , even if you had to unpack still. his feet splashed against the puddles , and as he arrived to your door , he knocked once again.

→ when you opened the door , he tackled you in a hug. you were both drenched now , but he felt so warm inside instead. ignoring your warnings about “ catching a cold from you , kokichi ” , he dragged you upstairs so that he could finally , properly hug you.

→ the next few days after that , he was clingy. but he told you he could do some things himself. and he did … for the most part , at least. but he tried.

→ forget about being partners or talking to anyone else the next few days without being interrupted , you’re sticking with kokichi.

please don’t repost , translate , or claim my works as your own.

[satureja13]

In the evening, after Kiyoshi and Jack finished purifying the Sanctum, Vlad and Jack cared for the animals, Jeb and Kiyoshi cooked... (well, Jeb cooked - and worried about Kiyoshi. He seems to drift away again after Ms Coombes had prohibited any contact between Kiyoshi and Jack. Kiyoshi and Jeb's familiars, Al'ar and Errol, are up to all kind of nonsense, despite the subdued mood. They are letting the cookbook float out of reach (not that Jeb needed it) and swipe the tastiest bits of the ingredients ^^')

... the Boys, Noxee and Barfolomew met outside the Screaming Mandrake for dinner. It hadn't rained all day and they have such a nice evening after all that stress ö.Ö'

Noxee told Saiwa she's going to wake Ji Ho tonight and - if it all goes well, he's supposed to join them for classes tomorrow morning! Noxee: "He'll still be sore, so I suggest to distract him, keep him busy. And try to not adress his feelings or stuff that could upset him. For a while, at least. And when he cries, just let him. It's a lot he has to deal with."

Noxee handed Sai a potion for Ji Ho, to dull his feelings, should it get too overwhelming for him and told them to continue with their yoga/meditation and tantra practise. Saiwa was near to tears: "Oh Noxee - thank you. I shouldn't have delayed seeking help for so long. It's all my fault." Noxee: "Don't be so hard to yourself. Nothing bad happened. The Therapy Game was a success for all of you and Ji Ho will be fine - even more than fine! He has his feelings back! The good ones too. The love!"

They spent the rest of the evening apart from each other. Neither Jack nor Kiyoshi had eaten... Kiyoshi was doing so well yesterday. No matter what Ms Coombes said - Jeb is still sure that Jack does help Kiyoshi to get rooted in their realm and that his quirky demeanor somehow ignites enough interest/attraction in Kiyoshi to drag him out of his demonic/divine spheres - to the here and now. He'll have to talk to the others about this and they need to find a solution. Kiyoshi is of no help for anyone in a state like this. And Jeb is also sure that Kiyoshi isn't happy. And that's what counts for Jeb.

Jack, Saiwa and Vlad went to the Common Room again. Like in the Otherworld, they have no internet here beyond the Veil. Even worse - no electricity either... Jack fell asleep as soon as he touched the sofa and Vlad was playing absent minded the organ. Means: no one there to play games with Sai. He started to read since there was nothing else to do for him. I've never seen Sai read any books, he's always too busy with his fashion and computer stuff. But the Common Room has a great collection of gay romance books. Saiwa is still a virgin and he was hooked immediately ^^'

(TMI: I have kindle unlimited and I've also been surprised how many great gay romance books of all genres are out there. If you like the gay romance aspect of our story, you might want to take a look. The good thing about kindle unlimited is, if you don't like a book, you can give it back and try the next one, since you pay a monthly fee and not for every single book.)

It was hard to concentrate on the book, though. Saiwa's head was still spinning around Jack and Ji Ho - and Skully was happily (and out of tune) singing along with whatever song Vlad was playing...

And in the top of the tower, Ji Ho eventually woke up. Noxee: "Hey - how are you?" Ji Ho: "Huh - surprisingly fine? I expected worse. How long have I been out?" Noxee: "Four days. It will still be hard for a while. Just let it happen, hm? It comes and it will go again. You are going to get used to feel through all these emotions and memories of yours. And you will learn to cope with them - like the others did too. But you are the most sensitive, so don't try to push it. Cry when you need to cry. Your friends will understand and help you where they can."

Ji Ho: "My friends ... Vlad. Gods, I caused him so much pain! What if my grandfather really put a spell on us? I'm so afraid to loose him. Now that I can finally feel it." Then he cried and cried... And Noxee let him cry. (TMI: Have I ever told you that a friend of mine went to therapy and she barely talked with her therapist, she just sat there and cried. For many, many sessions. But she said she felt so much better afterwards. And that's what counts in the end. Don't worry what the therapist might think of you. They won't. It's their job - and they learned how to do it.)

It wasn't that Ji Ho didn't feel anything in all those years. Like Noxee said, he's the most sensitive of them all. But it had all been dulled down. And it was more a sensing than a feeling. Just scratching the surface. And he was never able to feel love - except when the Bond let him love Luci, the remnants of Vlad he left behind after he died.

They heard Vlad playing from below:

'Some day, yeah We'll put it together and we'll get it undone Some day When your head is much lighter Some day, yeah We'll walk in the rays of a beautiful sun Some day When the world is much brighter

Ooh child Things are gonna be easier Ooh child Things'll be brighter'

The 5 Stairsteps - O-o-h Child from the Guardians of the Galaxy OST (This movie is already 10 years old? Omg! One of my favourite movies of all time, nonetheless :3 )

Outtakes

These familiars cause problems. Kiyoshi and Jeb got stuck so often today -.- Not even resetting helped *sigh*

From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest

Current Chapter: 'Here comes the Sun' from the beginning ▶️ here Last Chapter: 'Who killed Jack?' from the beginning ▶️ here

📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28

[ilovechuuyakjk]

well i said i would write this

I think Luz has an adult version like 18 or 19 so you will have a 20 or 21 like Hunter

You have wings

SPOILER ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

It's been more than 4 years since Belos was killed, it's hard to believe such an evil and powerful man died by rain. but it's what they always say, life is strange and there's no way to deny it.

On the day it all ended, you had no one waiting for you

No one

No one.

Simply no one because the person who cared the longest died for you

But hey you still had your lovers, willow and hunter, the ones that comforted you during that time

But over time you learned to comfort yourself and how to live like that

During those four years you built an orphanage near where Hunter worked with paslimans.

Clearly not alone because you weren't old enough yet to do everything yourself, you were just a teenager studying at hexside

Speaking of hexside, you have a lot of hexside memories, especially your first groom where you danced with hunter and willow, that one you probably won't forget

coming back to the rest, you built an orphanage for the children who didn't have parents or couldn't be near their parents, mostly they were children whose parents had died during the war

You started to have a soft spot for them, and they for you, they saw you as if you were really their parent, and you were secretly happy about it, after all you were the one who had the idea to create it

.

..

...

....

Today was the "kingceanera" of Luz, you haven't been there yet because you haven't had time, you had matters to take care of before you go and when Luz comes owlbert will let you know

But you didn't expect Willow and hunter to come with him, you were surprised when you saw them both entered the room

" You guys also came with owlbert? I expected you to be there for now "

You said with papers in your hands with a happy but amazed face

" you're not the only one with things to do darling, and we decided to all go there together so now let's get lilith so hurry up! "

Willow said approaching you and giving you a kiss on the cheek followed by hunter putting a soft hand on your back near your wings

" You can leave that for later now we have to go! She can arrive at any time! "

hunter said taking his hands off your back and making a move for you to follow owlbert and Willow

They waited for you to spread your wings and fly with them. The children stayed with one of the people who worked for you.

.

And so you went to get the others and when you arrived it was beautiful, everyone was happy, especially Luz. And so we're you but you decided to stay in a corner listening to people talk

" Hey are you ok my love? You are quieter than usual "

Hunter said pulling you to a corner further away from people

" yea I was just wondering... what would happen if owlbert never took the book from luz " You said with a calm voice but a distant look

" wait what? "

" like i know it's pathetic thoughts but sometimes i can't stop thinking about it, like it's just weird to think that this all started because of that, it's just a test to demonstrate how life is strange don't you think? "

He stared at you in amusement not knowing what to say for a few seconds but then the strange expression on his face turned into a small smile which was followed by a sigh

" sometimes it's not worth having those thoughts in your head because then you go crazy thinking about it when you can't find a solution for them. Without her probably half of us would be worse off than we were. And now what do you think about enjoying the kingceanera? Tomorrow we talk about it what do you think? "

He said grabbing your hand and going closer to the people

" Yea you're right let's enjoy it while we can and tomorrow we'll talk " You said giving Hunter a kiss on the cheek. you totally didn't forget during the whole party but the party calmed you down a bit

Willow, you and hunter were talking the whole time

After all, that night was just to enjoy

Because you had to buy food for the orphanage first thing in the morning

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

This was not a requests I just wanted to write to them

Hope you like it!!!

Byeeeee

[hillerskalibrary]

This is my first time being in a fandom so I don't really know - do you think people writing YR fanfiction will die down quickly after the end of the show? I am already super sad about the show ending but no more new fanfiction about these two might be even worse 🙃

Do you maybe have experience from other fandoms? 🧡

Hey anon! To you, as well, apologies for the late reply, especially since this question is clearly important to you - and no doubt to many others.

Now, should I have attempted to write a heartfelt answer on how the YR fandom will indeed probably slowly fade away but that's okay because the important thing is the joy it gave you while it lasted? Yes, yes I should have.

Did I spend half an hour making a graph in Excel instead? ... also yes.

look I may be a failed scientist but I'm still a scientist and you came to my inbox so...

Behold! My beautiful and not-at-all questionable graph of the number of YR posted per month since the release of S1.

Now, first the good news: as you can see, the general trend of fic goes UP! ;) I think it's been clear that S2 has drawn in lots of new fans, and that reflects in the number of fics - not only are there more writers, but more readers = more interaction = more motivation for writers.

Now, what does this tell us about fic numbers after S3?

... absolutely nothing. No, seriously, it is impossible to extrapolate any of this into the future :D. I mean, it is likely the peak will be even higher for the S3 release, and it's safe to say that then it will go down. But how fast, or how low, is hard to tell...

Now, I can see how this may make you sad. And I would like to offer two counterpoints.

ONE It's not done yet. This may seem obvious but- the time to be sad is not here yet. Suppose the sun shines today, and the forecast predicts rain for tomorrow. What are you going to do? Go out and enjoy every ray of sun while you can? Or spend the day inside, sad because you won't be able to go out tomorrow? Look - don't get me wrong, I don't wanna dismiss your feelings. It's just- we'll have time to be sad about it later, you know? Right now fandom is active: great fic is being published, thought provoking discussions are being had, ... . Let's enjoy that!

TWO Whether fandom lives or dies after the show, is partly up to you. I mean it! A fandom lives by grace of its active members. So write fic. Prompt other authors if you can't (and even if you can!). Organize events, challenges, polls, ... There are so many things you can do to keep the fandom going, but it's going to require time and effort. And no, success is not guaranteed. But it's worth it.

Lastly though, as you say yourself: this is your first fandom. A first fandom is always a little special, but after a first... comes a second. Always. It may seem hard to believe, and it may not even be something you necessarily want, but very often, that's how it goes. Fandoms come and go - and that's fine. It sucks too, of course, sometimes. But it's fine. It has to be, because the alternative is for nothing to ever change, and that would suck even harder. So enjoy this wonderful fandom we have, gush about it all with your mutuals, and trust that a new blorbo will find you ;).

[magicamicitia]

Volume 3, Chapter Two

“things just can’t stay the way they are now.”

Sunset Shimmer gazed outside her window as the rain had finally stopped. The sky was dark and still somewhat cloudy. She changed her focus to the clock on the wall.

8:35 PM.

With a sigh, Sunset got up from her desk.

“Well, If I want to wake up early tomorrow, I’d better start heading to bed.”

She turned to look at the clock again, and memories of her nightmare a few days ago came flooding back.

“Witches… That can’t be good.”

She reminisced about her life in the magical land of Equestria. She kept telling herself she could never go back, but… Frankly, it’s not like there was anything actually stopping her.

Was there?

She ran to the calendar strapped to the wall next to her front door. The portal should be open. She’d never seen anything like the Witches in Equestria before, but maybe, in a library somewhere… maybe she could find something. And maybe she could make herself useful to Twilight.

Twilight…

She’s have to be sneaky, though. Who knows what would happen to her if somepony back there spotted her. She’d probably be arrested, or worse. And if she didn’t come back, she’d surely worry Twi even more.

But things just couldn’t stay the way they were now.

She’d never seen anything like the Witches, but the soul gems reminded her of certain amulets from her homeland. And that cat… Felt familiar. But she couldn’t remember why.

Before leaving, she searched through her bag, for the reason she was hiding in this world in the first place.

A gold crown, majestic and shining as always. The element of magic looked just as seducingly powerful as the day she stole it.

However, something was amiss.

The bright pink gem on it had become opaque, and its once vibrant colors had faded into something gray.

“This can’t be good…”

She shoved the crown back inside her bag, put it over her shoulder, and ran to Canterlot High.

Before leaving, she looked at the clock again. It was now 9:09.

Twenty minutes later, Sunset Shimmer reached the campus of Canterlot. In front of her, the statue of a white stallion carved in marble stood tall. She crouched, reached for the passage underneath it…

But her fingers found nothing but stone.

“What the…?”

She frantically palpated the wall again. The portal was gone. But how did…

“Looking for something that doesn’t exist?”

Sunset jumped at the noise and quickly turned around, fumbling in her movements.

“…Kyubey.”

“I’d love to explain to you what happened here,” The small creature walked towards her. “But frankly, I myself don’t know either. Which is strange, isn’t it? Even now, I feel traces of magic coming from this monument.

It’s almost like something has sealed it…”

Kyubey stared intensely into Sunset’s eyes.

“Or perhaps someone.”

“What are you talking about… Wait, how do you know about the portal..?”

“There’s no time for that now, Sunset Shimmer. Twilight Sparkle is in danger.”

Sunset flinched, but couldn’t reply.

“Medea, the Shapeshifter witch. It has taken nest in the hearts of her family.” Kyubey shook its head. “A witch’s kiss is not to be taken lightly. The victims become not only suicidal, but violent as well. And if many of them gather at one place, the witch is also sure to be there.”

“No way… But… Twi’s a magical girl, isn’t she? S-She should be able to…”

“This witch is not like the others.” The creature interrupted. “You can’t defeat it alone.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do? It’s not like I have magical powers!”

“That’s…” Kyubey seemed to ponder for a moment. “…True. But you could change that.”

“Change?”

“Make a contract with me, and become a magical girl. I don’t understand why yet, but… Your karmic power is astonishing.”

Sunset felt a shiver run down her spine. Karma…

“Or… Perhaps I do understand.” It stared intensely into the now-gone portal, and back at her. “Could it be… Sunset Shimmer, what… are you?”

“None of your business.”

Sunset ran, nervously looking through the contacts on her phone. Who would be the least mad at her right now…? Rainbow Dash would surely not pick up her call, and frankly, she might not even be keen in helping Twilight right now. Fluttershy probably had her number blocked. The more she thought about it, the more she realized how bad she’d screwed up. Nobody would want to even look at her face now…

No.

There was someone.

Someone who would always listen, even if it was just to call her names and tell her off.

and someone she knew wouldn’t hesistate to help if Twilight was in danger.

She took a deep breath, preparing herself for all the “big meanie”s she was about to get called, and dialed the number.

Beeep….

Beeep….

Beeep….

Click!

“…Hey, Pinkie.”

[uvobreakmylegs]

Constrained

a two parter fic with slasher!Franklin. part two will be out tomorrow :D

Part 2

Warnings: fem!reader, drugging, kidnapping, captivity, dehumanizing situations, death, gore

Word count: 5.7k

The house didn't look terrible, but there were certain things about it that had you rethinking if you really wanted to go up to it in an effort to get help. Like the bits of paint that had peeled off in parts and the vines that were slowly crawling up one side.

And the bars on the windows. And the fact that to the side of the house you could see an entrance to what looked to be a junkyard that continued on behind the house, filled to the brim with the decaying remains of old, abandoned cars.

Those things especially raised some red flags about this place.

Still, you looked back to the tow truck sitting in the driveway, the main reason why you were approaching this place. Your car had broken down further up the road after you hit something and the front wheels had burst, causing the car to swerve uncontrollably on the road before you ran it into a ditch. That had been scary, and it took you a few minutes for your heart rate to calm down before you were able to assess your situation. You were in the middle of nowhere with a car that was stuck in a ditch and no cellphone service, and even if your phone was able to work, you weren't sure if you could call a tow truck all the way out here.

So you were forced to walk along the road in the hopes that you could find a phone or someone who could help you.

All you'd found so far was that house.

The more you looked at it, the more you really didn't want to go up there. If the house on its own wasn't bad enough, the junkyard also gave you a bad feeling. Everything you could see from the outside combined together to bring about a grim atmosphere that surrounded the entire area, causing you to have a sinking feeling in your stomach at the thought of getting any closer to the structure.

But you looked back to the road. This was the first place you'd seen in a while even when you were in your car. Did you really want to pass up on the opportunity for getting help now just because the house was creepy?

Something else that encouraged you to try the house were the gray clouds in the sky above you and a distant rumbling, and it seemed likely that if you chose to walk, you'd get caught up in a storm. If it took you a long time to find some other place to get help, trudging out in the rain didn't sound like the best plan. You were already pretty cold at this point, the only real protection you had being a thin hoodie while the skirt you were wearing saw to it that your legs almost felt frozen, a feeling that only became worse every time the wind blew past you.

It was like the universe wanted you to go up to that front door.

You ended up doing just that, walking up the driveway and standing on the porch as you looked at the darkened door. It didn't look like there was a doorbell, so you needed to knock on the door itself, pulling your hand back into your sleeve and into the hoodie pocket in an effort to keep yourself warm.

You didn't hear anything after knocking, and for a moment, you wondered if there wasn't anybody home. A small part of you hoped that would be the case as you really wanted to get away from the house. But you made yourself wait and not long after you heard what sounded like someone approaching the front door on the other side.

What followed was the undoing of several locks and bolts, and then the door opened.

To say that the man who opened the door was intimidating would've been an understatement. If the way he towered over you wasn't enough, the scars and stitches that went across his face only made him seem even more scary, not to mention the piercings on his ears. You couldn't help the sharp intake of breath that came when he looked you over, his eyebrow raising once your eyes met.

Still, this was the only person you'd come across so far. So after remembering how to speak, you forced out a smile as you greeted him.

“Hi, sir. Sorry to bother you. Um, I was wondering if you could help me out?”

Hopefully that wasn't too awkward of an opener.

“Help with what?” he asked.

“My car – it's in a ditch down the road,” you explained, “the tires went flat suddenly and I lost control.”

“And you want me to get it out for you,” the man said, looking over to his tow truck.

You nodded as you said “as long as it isn't too much trouble. But if you'd rather not, would you be okay with me using your phone? My cellphone isn't working out here-”

“It isn't any trouble,” he said, interrupting you, “why bother making you call for help when I can help you right now?”

“Oh, thank you!”

He just nodded in response to you thanking him, telling you “I'll be out in a moment,” before shutting the door.

He didn't seem too surprised by your request, and you wondered how often this sort of thing happened to him.

When he returned, he had the keys to the truck in hand, and he motioned for you to follow once he closed the door behind him.

“What's your name?” you asked after you buckled yourself into the passenger's seat of the truck.

“Franklin.”

He didn't really respond when you told him your name, focusing instead on turning the engine on before he backed out of the driveway. That was fair, you figured. Plus, Franklin seemed like the type to not want to bother with a lot of chit chat, instead wanting to focus on the task at hand. With that in mind, you tried to keep any conversation focused on the issue of your car.

“Oh – how much will I owe you?” you asked.

“We can figure that out later,” he answered.

“Okay. It's just that I'm not carrying a lot of cash on me, so I might need you to drive me to an ATM if it ends up being more than what I have,” you explained, “if it's a lot of trouble, I can pay for the gas.”

“Don't worry about that now. We'll figure it out later,” he said again.

Ah. He thought you were annoying, didn't he?

“Right. Sorry.”

Though you were looking away at that moment, you sensed the way he glanced over at you.

But he didn't say anything, and soon enough the two of you came across the ditch that had trapped your car.

After maneuvering the truck so he'd be able to pull out the car, he told you that you could stay inside if you wanted, then he left to begin the process of getting your car out. During that time, the sky had darkened significantly as a small drizzle of rain began to come down. Then the rain came down harder and the sky darkened further. From your position in the truck, you couldn't really see him down next to your car, but you saw when he came back to the driver's side, hopping back in and rummaging through the area behind his seat.

“Everything all right?” you asked.

“It's fine,” he said, “it's a bit dark. I need a flashlight.”

“Ah.”

He found what he was looking for, and he opened the door again. It was still pouring out.

“Don't you need an umbrella?” you asked.

“Don't have one.”

Franklin was about to hop out again when you spoke up again.

“Wait.”

This time when he looked back to you, he seemed genuinely annoyed. With as big as he was, it was more than a little scary to think that you were upsetting this man.

Still, you forced yourself to speak.

“There's an umbrella in my car, if you want to use that,” you said.

While his gaze was still harsh, it softened ever so slightly once you said that, though the gruff attitude remained when he answered.

“If you want to hold it over me while I hook up the car, you're free to do so.”

With that, he stepped out and closed the door.

After a moment, you did the same.

You couldn't see too much of his face when you went down to your car, but from what you could tell, he seemed surprised that you were actually joining him down there and doing as he'd said when you grabbed the umbrella from your car and held it over him so he could attach the chains without rain getting into his eyes. You weren't covered at all by the umbrella, so you were very quickly soaked as you stood next to him. Not too pleasant, but it was the least you could do to help him out.

It took a few minutes, but not long after Franklin was hauling your car back up the ditch and onto the road. There was a screeching noise that sounded when he straightened out your car, and he looked to you.

“What did you say you hit again?” he asked.

“I don't know.”

You joined him outside again when he went to check out the front of your car, and he shined his flashlight down on what appeared to be a wide strip that was attached to your front wheels.

“What is that?” you asked.

“Spike strip.”

“Spike...”

Looking closer, you saw that there were indeed spikes on the thing, some of which were embedded into the rubber of your tires. No wonder you'd lost control after hitting that.

“Isn't that sort of thing used by the police?” you asked.

“Usually. But anyone can buy them,” he said, then continued with “removing that in this rain will be too much trouble. I'll haul it back as-is.”

Less than ten minutes later he was driving his truck back to his home with your car attached and trailing behind him. The rain was coming down harder now, and you were glad that you made the decision to stop and ask Franklin for help, even if there were still a few things that felt kinda weird about him.

Even though you were inside the truck, you still shivered a bit as your clothes had managed to soak up a lot of the rainwater.

Ah, this wasn't supposed to be what was happening right now. You'd been on your way to meet up with some friends for the weekend. All of you had paid to rent a cabin out by a lake, and you had been looking forward to hanging out with your friends in the lakeside cabin. The only downside was that the cabin was pretty far away and would take a long time to drive there.

And of course, you'd gotten lost, and then this happened. You just hoped that the weekend wouldn't be completely ruined for you. If your car was able to get fixed up, then maybe you could at least get there on the last day. Not ideal, but you'd be happy with that.

If only that thing hadn't been left out in the road.....

“Hey, Franklin.”

“Hm?”

“About the spike thing that took out my tires.”

“The spike strip?”

“Yeah. Why was that just.... Out here?” you asked.

He shrugged.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” he said, “someone was either careless or playing a sick joke.”

“Ah.”

You glanced back over to him as you said “I guess it's technically a good thing for you, since you got business out of it.”

“I guess.”

He was still pretty short with you, but you got the sense that Franklin wasn't too annoyed with you by now. That was something, you figured.

He only spoke again when you had returned to his house.

“I don't know if there's much I can do at the moment,” he told you, “I probably could fix it up for you, but not with the weather being like it is now. And if you don't want me fixing it, I can drive it up to a mechanic's shop for you. Your choice.”

You nodded, though you weren't sure which option you should pick.

Then you shuddered, the chill of the rain still seeping into you even after sitting in the heated truck. Franklin noticed, and continued with “for now, you can come inside and warm up before making a decision.”

“Are you sure?”

He didn't even bother answering your question as he exited the truck once again, walked over to the passenger's side door and opened it for you, motioning for you to get out. You did as he instructed and followed him back up to the porch that you'd been so nervous about approaching earlier, and then following him into the house once he had the door opened.

The inside of the house matched the outside somewhat, in that it left some things to be desired. But at least it was clean, you thought to yourself as you sat down on a couch Franklin had directed you to. He walked off further into the house and then returned not long after, a towel in hand that he then offered to you. You thanked him as you took it, happy to be able to dry off a little.

“I don't have too much in my kitchen, but I could make you tea, if you like,” Franklin said to you.

“Sure! Tea sounds nice.”

He walked off again once you said that, presumably to his kitchen. Once you finished drying off, you placed the towel to the side while you looked over the room. Your eyes ended up going to a nearby window, and you watched as the rain ran down the glass.

You also caught sight of the bars again. And while you had a pretty positive opinion of Franklin..... Yeah, the bars were still a little alarming.

But presumably he had a good reason for having them. Would it be rude to ask what that reason was?

Maybe.

Probably best to not mention them at all.

Returning your focus to the rain that was still pouring outside, you wondered how long that was going to last. Your thoughts went again to the weekend trip you were supposed to be headed to, as well as if Franklin would be able to fix up your car. The wheels were damaged, obviously, and the ride down into the ditch had banged up your car as well as yourself. It was likely that there were damages outside of the wheels that would need to be fixed, and depending on how much all that would cost, you might need to bail on going on the trip completely. Hopefully your friends would understand why.

And hopefully there wouldn't be anymore nasty surprises like that on the road, regardless of what you ended up doing.

You questioned how you hadn't seen the spike strip on the road originally, but when you tried to think back to that, all you really remembered was how terrifying it was to suddenly lose control in the way you did.

That was an experience you hoped you would never go through again.

A shrill sound suddenly came out of the kitchen before it was abruptly stopped. A kettle, you assumed. Although you were still feeling nervous and uncertain about what was happening, hopefully the tea would help calm you down further.

A few minutes later, Franklin came out holding a single mug of tea that he handed over to you. You smiled as you thanked him for it, to which he only nodded at you. He made his way over to the window after, looking out and observing the worsening weather.

The tea didn't taste all that great, but it was at least warm, something that you wanted after being in the cold for so long, and you made yourself down a few sips.

Still, the silence felt awkward to you. And while he didn't seem to care much for small talk, it seemed weirder to not say anything to the man while you were sitting in his home drinking tea.

“Do you live here on your own?” you asked.

“Yes.”

“Really? For how long?”

“A while.”

Ah.... Maybe you shouldn't ask questions that are too personal. That was definitely the sense you were getting with those answers of his. Maybe asking questions about what he did for a living was safer.

“Those cars in the back,” you began, “is that another part of your business?”

“Something like that,” he answered.

“A lot of cars get abandoned out here because there aren't that many people around,” he continued, “I figure I might as well take them and get whatever can be salvaged out of them.”

Franklin looked back at you, and he spoke again when he saw the way you shivered slightly.

“You should drink more. It'll warm you up faster,” he said.

Going along with what he said, you took another sip of tea. Looking to the window as well, asking “do you think the rain'll last long?”

“Tough to say,” he answered, “doesn't seem like it'll stop any time soon.”

“Oh.”

He glanced back at you when he heard your disappointed tone.

“Do you need to be somewhere?” he asked.

“Yeah. Me and some friends were meeting up for the weekend,” you said, “I'm guessing I'm gonna be missing most of what we had planned.”

“Did they know you were coming this way?”

“I don't think so? We were going to the cabin from all different directions, so I doubt anyone else looked into the route I was going,” you answered.

“I see.”

“Is that important?” you asked.

“Just wanted to know if there was a chance any of them would come this way to look for you,” he replied, clarifying with “to pick you up.”

“Ah, okay. Unfortunately I don't know what'll be happening unless I can get in contact with them.”

“Hm.”

You took another long sip of the tea before a thought came to mind.

“I should call them,” you said aloud, “I don't want them to worry when I don't show up.”

Setting down the cup, you asked Franklin “where's your phone? Mine still isn't working for some reason.”

You realized you were being a little bit too presumptuous, and added “as long as you're okay with me using it.”

“That's fine,” he said, glancing down at your mug briefly, “it's in the kitchen.”

“Thank you,” you said, smiling at him.

But the instant you stood up, something was wrong.

At first you thought maybe you had stood up too fast, as your legs felt unsteady and that caused you to wobble a little. But when you stayed still and you found that the feeling only became worse, alarm bells started to go off in your head.

This..... This didn't seem right. The room was spinning around you, and it only got worse when you tried to take a step forward. It was barely half a step and you felt like it was too much for you.

You were breathing hard as you tried to take another step forward, finding that your arms weren't able to move very well either when you tried to lift one up to balance yourself.

Franklin was staring at you. He didn't seem very surprised by what he was seeing.

That was a strange reaction for him to have.

“S-somethings...... Wrong......”

That was all you were able to get out before you felt the strength leave your legs.

Franklin acted then, grabbing you before you could hit the floor and picking you up. He placed you so you were lying on your back on the couch, brushing the hair out of your face after.

When you tried to push yourself into a sitting position, he pushed you back down, quietly telling you “lie down.” Undoing the zipper of your hoodie, he pulled the wet piece of clothing off of you, the long sleeves sticking to your arms briefly.

In that moment you felt badly again, worried that you only continued to cause problems for this man as he now needed to take care of you when you were struck by a sudden illness.

That was what you were thinking until he grabbed at the hem of your shirt and lifted it up to your chest, exposing your stomach. His hand came to roam about your flesh, running over it with feather-light touches as he looked over your skin.

Even in your current state you recognized that as being strange, and your eyebrows furrowed.

With what must've been the last of your strength, you pulled up your arms and placed your hands on the one that was running over your skin, trying to push him away. The only noise you were capable of making in that moment was a small whine.

“Stay still,” he told you, grabbing your arms in response and pulling them so your hands were laying over your head. You couldn't move them again, and you were only able to watch as he grabbed at your shirt once more.

This time he pulled it over your head and removed it completely, throwing it to the side before turning his attention back to your soft flesh. Both hands roamed over your skin this time, running down your arms and briefly circling your breasts before going back to the flesh of your stomach, his touch much less restrained now. Your skin was still wet, and his felt cold, causing goosebumps to form when he touched you.

You'd begun to tear up as you realized just how helpless you were: unable to move and at the complete mercy of a man who clearly intended to rape you. And if the way your eyelids began to feel heavy was any indication, you wouldn't be awake for much longer.

Would it be better to sleep through something like this? So you wouldn't know all of the things Franklin would do to you? Or would your ignorance of everything that happened make it worse?

Another whimper left your lips when Franklin pushed your skirt down your legs, and he looked back at you briefly.

He didn't seem to care much when he saw the tears that had formed, as he quickly refocused on undressing you, hands going back up your legs after and lingering on the area between your thighs.

Still not sure if it was a mercy or not, you closed your eyes as you finally blacked out.

There was something cold around your ankle.

Cold and heavy, and when you shifted your foot slightly, you heard what sounded like metal scraping against a concrete floor.

…. What?

You blearily opened your eyes, trying to blink the sleep out of them as you reached down to see what was wrong with your ankle while your mind was slow to process what was going on.

Why was it so cold?

Where were you?

Where was Franklin?

…... What had he done to you?

A vague recollection of what had happened before you passed out flashed through your mind and you sat up quickly, your heart pounding as your mind produced a clear image in your head of Franklin stripping off your clothing. Your heart only pounded harder when you realized that the room you were in was so dark that you couldn't see anything, and you had also been placed on the floor.

Confusion turned to disgust when you realized that aside from your underwear, your clothes were gone.

Though there was a lot to take in at the moment, you still remembered the cold feeling that had awoken you. Reaching down in the darkness, your hand found the thing that was clamped around your ankle:

It was a cuff.

And when you pulled your leg back, you found that there was a chain attached to it.

Your lip began to tremble as the reality of your situation began to set in.

Franklin had drugged you, stripped you and then locked you away in what must've been his basement.

What was he going to do to you from here?

As easy as it would be to lose control of your emotions and fall into hysteria, you told yourself to keep calm and try to figure out where you were. That was the first step to getting out of here.

With the way the room was pitch-black, you needed to use your hands to feel your way around and figure things out that way. From what you could tell, the walls and floor were made of concrete, and if you were to guess, you felt that you were correct in assuming you were in a basement. There was also a door that stood across from you, but you didn't manage to find any sort of handle. Feeling around further, you found what the cuff attached to your leg was connected to: a heavy table that had been pushed up against the wall. The chain itself was locked around a beam that connected the front and back legs of the table, so there was no chance of you getting the chain off without the key to the lock.

You tugged on the chain a bit before running your hands over the length of it. It wasn't that long. If the keys to the cuff were in here with you, you doubted that they were anywhere within reach.

Even so, you looked for them anyway, although you weren't successful in finding them. Nor could you find anything else in the room that was useful. He must've anticipated that you would venture around as far as the chain on your ankle would allow you to, as there was nothing you were able to grab that could be used as a way to get that cuff off of you or even as a weapon.

The only other things you were able to discern from feel alone was the other table that seemed to be in the center of the room, and the grating that was in some parts of the floor. There were also some odd smells and a hum that indicated something electrical, but nothing else.

The realization that there was nothing you could do came fast. You were stuck in here and at the mercy of Franklin.

And seeing that he wasn't here at the moment, all you could do was wait for him to come in.

So you waited for him in that corner you'd woken up in, your knees pulled up to your chin with your arms wrapped around them. If anyone had been able to see you, they probably would've called you pathetic. You felt pathetic. Looking back on the choices you'd made, you also felt stupid. Why had you so blindly trusted a complete stranger? A man who general vibe screamed “danger”? Were you just that eager to try and see the good in people, or was it really just because you didn't like the idea of walking around in the rain for a bit?

Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid.

How much time had passed since you'd woken up, you weren't sure, but you noticed when you heard someone approaching from beyond the door that led into this room, footsteps stopping just before it.

A door suddenly appeared in the darkness, sliding open right next to you and bringing light that made your eyes squeeze shut. You only got the briefest glance at the person who had opened the door, and when you tried to open your eyes again, you were immediately punished by the way bright lights suddenly filled the room. It was too much to handle after the way your eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and your eyes began to tear up.

When a few moments passed and you slowly opened your eyes in an effort to get used to the light, you looked back to whoever stood in the doorway. You needed to blink away a few tears at first before you were able to look at them clearly.

And when you were finally able to do that, your blood chilled.

Franklin stood before you, clad in a brown apron and dark gloves that reached up to his elbows. You only saw half of his face, as his mouth and nose were covered by a mask that tied at the back, and on his head were a pair of plastic goggles that you found were reminiscent of your days in high school when you would perform a lab experiment in science class.

To have a man appear before you dressed like that while you had been stripped down to your underwear was bad enough.

What made it worse was the fact that the apron he wore was covered in blood, dark stains that showed those had been there for a while.

The words “serial killer” popped into your head.

A normal reaction to the scene you'd been forced into might have been to scream at the sight of him. Or get angry and demand he let you go. Fainting upon seeing him like that also seemed like a reasonable option.

But you froze, staying completely still while your mouth clamped shut as you looked up at him.

Franklin also seemed surprised based on the way you saw his eyebrows raise.

“I didn't realize you were awake,” he said, “most people start screaming when they wake up.”

You stayed quiet.

He hummed, then entered the room, sliding the door shut behind him. You kept your eyes on him as he walked towards a tool shelf, and you became lightheaded again when you saw all of the things he had on display there.

Ice picks, hammers, gardening shears and a variety of other things, although what seemed to be most prominently displayed was the chainsaw that looked too heavy for you to lift.

In another setting such a collection wouldn't have caused you to feel such fear.

But all you were seeing right now were the ways in which he would use those tools on you. Use the hammer to shatter your bones, jab the ice pick into your eye, cut your fingers off with the shears. You also noticed a collection of knives sitting below the shelf, and how those could be used also came to mind, different ways that they could be stabbed into your body.

And as for the chainsaw....

A full-body shudder ran through you, causing the chain to rattle.

Franklin looked over to you with a cleaver in hand, sharpening it. Right next to him on the wall was a plastic sheet that hung from the ceiling. The sheet was slightly see-through, and you could spot some weird shapes that seemed to be hanging from the wall behind it.

“Trying to escape?” he asked.

You shook your head quickly.

He hummed again.

“I thought you'd be more annoying,” he said as looked back to the cleaver, “though I guess you did know when to shut up earlier.”

Now seemingly satisfied with the sharpness of the cleaver, he set it down on the steel table at the room's center.

With the weapon no longer in his hand, you managed to find your voice.

“What's..... What's gonna happen to m-me?” you asked, your voice shaking and barely over a whisper.

He didn't answer, but it seemed like he'd heard you.

His response to your question was to pull the plastic sheet away and show you what was on the other side.

….. People.

He'd stuck people onto those hooks.

All who seemed relatively “fresh” based on the lack of decomposition, and some who were missing limbs or eyes.

…...

… Too much.

It was all too much. Your poor brain couldn't handle this. Couldn't handle the casual way he'd shown you what your fate would ultimately be.

What did you do to deserve this? What could you have done to this man in the short time you'd known him for him to decide to kill you?

Why was this happening to you?

You didn't ask any of those questions, still too in shock at what you were witnessing, and also because you got the sense that now was the time to shut up.

Franklin didn't say anything else to you for the rest of the time he was in there. He brought down one of the bodies that had been hanging from the hooks, limp after presumably going through the stages of rigor mortis, and set it down on the large table that sat in the center of the room. The body was that of a man, an older one based on the gray hairs on his head. How had Franklin gotten him? How long had he been down here? What was going to happen to his body?

The answer to that last question came when Franklin took the cleaver he'd been sharpening and began to chop at one of the man's arms, hacking through flesh, muscle and bone in an effort to separate the arm from the rest of the body.

It was when he managed to remove the arm completely that you finally had some sort of response to this situation, when you watched your captor reduce what had once been a person down to a slab of meat and you were unable to cope with the situation any longer as it was too much for your mind to handle:

You fainted.

When you woke up next it was dark again. You didn't mind that this time, as it prevented you from seeing the bodies that were hanging in the room. And when you searched the area around you by blindly fumbling over the floor once again, you found that a water bottle had been placed by your feet.

While it didn't seem like a good idea to ingest anything he'd given you, after a few hours of ignoring it you became desperate enough to take the risk and drink some of it. Nothing happened after you drank it, so it seemed like he hadn't tampered with it.

But that raised the question as to why he wanted to keep you alive.

….. If you wanted to keep your sanity intact, it was better not to think about that.

[shit-enmu-says]

Phantasmagoria: Part 3

Note: This is the this installment in my as yet unnamed Drabble. Pretty heavy stuff in this one. CW for death, blood, violence, and gore. Also tumblr is telling me my account’s been terminated. If not please let me know.

Part 3

The door closed behind Enmu, leaving him alone in the small, drafty room. Well, alone except for the mangled, bloody thing on the table. He turned his gaze once more upon the remains of Hideki Sato. A large black beetle scuttled forth from the corpse’s empty sockets. Enmu doubled over and clutched his stomach, vomiting onto the floor.

What is wrong with me? he thought, head spinning as he dabbed the corners of his mouth with a handkerchief. He was hardly the squeamish type. After his many years assisting Ayumu in the clinic there was little he hadn’t seen. He’d been sneezed on, bled on, vomited on and worse. Yet he’d never once encountered a dead body.

Was it remorse, perhaps? It couldn’t be. He hardly knew Sato, he was just one of the many faceless patients on his roster. He would have died anyway in his sorry state. Nothing modern medicine had to offer could have saved him. That wasn’t it, no. Something nagged at the edges of his subconscious. Something he thought he had buried years ago.

It was a humid summer evening in late July, and he was six again. The air was thick with the hum of cicadas as he crept down the earthen path through the woods. The path was slick with mud from the heavy rains the week before, causing him to stumble. The further he ventured in, the smaller he felt.

How did he get there? Enmu wasn’t sure. One moment he was on the front porch reading, the next he was surrounded by trees. Only one thing was certain: he was hopelessly lost. The tall green grass seemed to shimmer in front of him in the scorching air. His eyes followed the almost languid motion of it from side to side when he caught sight of a patch of black.

His father’s old tailcoat. The same one Ayumu snapped at him for trying on. As little as he was now, it was unlikely to fit him even when he was full grown. Not that he cared in the slightest.

Their father never came home the night before. Ayumu dismissed his questions. “You’re spoiled,” Ayumu had said, “When I was your age he was barely home, always working himself to exhaustion at the clinic. With Mother gone he has to come home more often but he’s probably just busy. If he’s not home by tomorrow morning, we’ll go to the clinic to check on him.”

Enmu’s room was closest to the wilderness. He often sneaked into Ayumu’s room, complaining of hearing strange things. The night before he slept even more fitfully than usual. “I heard a scream,” Enmu had whispered, tugging at his brother’s shirt tail, “What if it’s him?”

“Father, are you out here?” Enmu picked up the tailcoat. His hand came away sticky and red.

Ayumu was shouting at him, dragging him back up the path by the wrist. “What did I tell you about going back here?” He yelled, “Do you have a death wish?”

His brother trudged up the hill at a furious pace with Enmu in tow. At that moment his brother stopped dead in his track, every muscle tensed. Enmu recalled the wide-eyed expression on his brother’s face before he broke into a run. “Promise me, Enmu! Promise me you won’t look back!”

His brother had locked him in his room the moment they arrived home. Why were his hands shaking? He returned later that evening with dirt caked under his nails and red eyes. “What about Father?” “He’s not coming home, Enmu. Not now, not ever. Promise me you won’t go looking for him.”

Enmu blinked. The storage room came back into focus. Yet Ayumu’s words still echoed in his head. He glanced back at the corpse on the table. Was something like this what his brother hadn’t wanted him to see?

[crystalsnow95z]

This is a part 2. It was going to be longer but I'm working too much lately..

Part 1 here

Must read part one.

"[Are you sure you it's okay for all of us to be here?]"Namjoon asks, feeling guilty that him and his brothers took over their campsite.

"[Oh, it's no problem. It certainly made things more interesting. Since our friends bailed on coming with us it was getting boring. You also brought dinner for us to share. I think its an even trade. We caught zilch.]" Darryl smiles warmly, grilling the fish the members brought.

Jin walks back towards Namjoon, hanging up the phone with a grim expression. Him and Taehyung went for a walk to get Yoongi's discarded clothing, hoping to get a better phone signal with higher ground.

"You couldn't get a signal?" Namjoon guesses by his expression.

"Worse, staff won't be able to get to us until tomorrow.." Jin says, clenching his jaw.

"What? Why? Is everything okay?" Namjoon asks with a worried expression. "Was there an accident."

"No, no. The rental car broke down on their way to their hotel. They can't get a replacement until tomorrow.." Taehyung replies, rubbing Jin's shoulders. "It's okay. we can take care of Hobi-hyung until then." He tried to stay positive, but his smile didn't meet his eyes and hardly lasted more than a moment.

"[What's wrong kid?]" Derek asks Namjoon to translate when he feels the tension in the air. "[I don't speak Korean but I can tell it ain't good news.]"

"[We can't get our friend to the hospital until tomorrow. Our ride broke down..]" Namjoon was tempted to ask him for more help when he heard Hoeseok coughing, but he couldn't get himself to do it. Not when he already did so much for them already.

"[I'm sure he'll be fine. You can use some whiskey to help numb your buddy Yoongi and some cough medicine for J-hope.]" Derek says with an optimistic grin. "[You want some? Brought some just case. Darryl ends up with the sniffles every time it rains. Sensitive little f*cker.]" He says fondly, laughing when Derek throws a stick at him. "[What? You are!]"

"[That would be great. Thank you.]" Namjoon bows,weakly smiling when Derek bows back, watching him go in the tent to dig through his bag.

"[You okay?]" Derek asks when he hears Hoseok coughing into his fist. "[Hang tight I'll give you something for that nasty cough.]"

Hoseok nods, even though he couldn't understand half of what he was saying. Despite taking private English lessons, he couldn't remember. His mind was fuzzy with fever, cuddling closer to Yoongi as another chill ran down his spine.

"You aren't okay. You're burning hot.." Jimin frowns, touching the back of his hand to his forehead. "This isn't good. He's getting worse already.."

"It's okay Minnie.. i..I just need to..to rest.." Hoseok coughs, cursing under his breath when his chest tightens a wheezing sound coming when he tries to take a deep breath.

"Don't lie to me.. you aren't okay." Jimin tries to scold him, but his voice is soft and slightly trembles. His stomach churned with worry for the usual cheerful rapper, rubbing his back as a feeble attempt to help.

Hoseok grabbed Yoongi's hand, squeezing it while he swayed, dizziness engulfing him, making him shiver with a cold sweat, leaning his head against the older’s shoulder. Even with laying as still as a stone, he still felt like he was moving.

"Hoseok-ah.." Yoongi whispered his name, trying to attempt to comfort him, but his voice caught in his throat, no other words coming. His throat was too tight, having to look up and blink rapidly to stop the tears that pricked at the corners of his eyes.

This is my fault.. I should've told him to go to camp when I realized how quiet he was being when we were fishing that something was wrong.. or talked him into staying in the camp all together..

Yoongi's felt his stomach knotting with guilt, feeling like he would be sick. "I'm sorry.." He breathed the words, leaning his head on Hoseoks, burying his face in his hair as two tears slipped, not wanting Jimin to see them.

Even without seeing Yoongi's face, Jimin could hear the soft sobs that the deagu rapper tried to conceal, his breath coming out as shaky gasps his shoulders trembling. "Hyung its okay..it's not your fault. You did all you could.."

"It's mine.. I should've..stayed in camp..but I was scared to stay alone.." Hoeseok whispers hoarsely between coughs, gasping for air when it finally dies down.

Yoongi nods, but he doesn't believe him, forcing himself to take a deep breath to try to slow his ragged breathing.

"[Found it!]" Derek says with a triumphant smile, it instantly dropping when he looks at his guests, becoming aware of the tension in the air. "[Woah kid, are you okay? Are you in pain?]"

"[I'm just a little bit..I'm okay.]" Yoongi lies, rubbing his face against Hoeseok's hair to try to dry his eyes to look up at Derek, giving him a sad smile. "[I'm just..ah..]" He struggled to think of the English words to describe his emotions, but his mind was still foggy with fatigue. "[Just tired and worry..]"

"[I get that. I'd be f*cken worried, too. Here. I found that cough syrup. It should knock him right out.]" Derek gives the bottle of bright red liquid to Jimin.

"[Thank you..]" Jimin bows his head, opening the bottle and pouring it into the small cup.

"[No prob. I'm gonna go check on dinner.]" Derek quickly dismisses himself from the tent.

"Hyung do you think you can sit up for me?" Jimin asks with a gentle tone, caressing the back of Hoseok's neck.. "Just for a few seconds.. then you can lay back down.."

Hoseok slowly picks up his head, keeping his eyes closed, frightened that if he opened them, the room would start spinning again. Yoongi keeps his hand firmly on his brother, having the same fear that he'd fall to the side.

Jimin slowly puts the small cup to Hoseok's slightly parted lips, just in case the cough returns, feeling a sliver of relief when the rapper manages to take it, quickly giving him some water. "Good, good.." he murmurs with a soft sigh.

"How is he?" Jungkook pokes his head in the tent. "Ah, you're up.. how are you?"

"I'm hanging in there.." Hoseok stifles a cough, trying to give a reassuring smile for the mankae. "Darryl-ssi got me some medicine.."

Jungkook bites his lip, not wanting to say he was just outside talking to Darryl and that it was Derek who was with them earlier. Hoseok was great with names, able to remember staff from several years ago. "That's good, I was worried we wouldn't have a way to get it.."

"I'm tired Hyung.." Hoseok looks at Yoongi with exhaustion written on his face. "We should go to our.." Coughs cut him off, burying his face in his arm.

"I don't think you should be walking. You're really sick Hoba.." Yoongi says softly, tensing up. He had no idea how long they'd be welcomed in the brother's camp and there was no way he would let Hoeseok walk.

"What's wrong?" J-hope asks softly, looking up at Yoongi.

"Don't worry about me,I'm just thinking. Get some rest, baby. Hyung will figure it out." Yoongi moves him and J-hope into a laying position, letting the younger rapper lay on his chest.

J-hope almost instantly falls asleep, his head growing heavier on Yoongi's chest. Yoongi felt feverish himself from the heat radiating off his younger brother.

"Jiminie, ask Namjoonie to speak to the Derek-sii and Daryll-sii about the situation." Yoongi says in a soft whisper.

Jimin nods, rising to his feet. "Rest well hyung." He whispers, gently stroking the back of Hoseok's neck before leaving the tent to where the others were.

"[Oh hey, dinners almost done. You hungry?]" Derek greets him motioning to the pile of fried fish. "[I don't have many plates so you'll have to take turns eating.]"

"[Thank you.]" Jimin bows, only understanding half of what he said. He was hungry all morning, but now the thought of eating wasn't appealing anymore. Stress knotted his stomach, the smell of food making him nauseous.

"[No problem. It was your catch anyway. We just seasoned it.]" Daryll smiles. "[Smells good too.]"

Jimin nods, taking a seat between Jin and Namjoon. "Yoongi-hyung wants to know how long we'll be allowed to stay at their camp before we have to return to our own."

"Ah, Seokjin-hyung had the same thought, so I already asked.. we have until we finish dinner. They offered to help carry him back to our campsite, but I turned down their offer." Namjoon answers.

"But it's windy out now. What if the cold makes him worse?" Jimin asks, taking a breath to try to keep himself calm.

"What if we ask them to switch camps for the night? Our tent is good.." Taehyung frowns, trying to think of the English words. "[Ah, Derek-sii..please.. could ..camp ..different?]"

"[What? Different camp?]" Derek looks at him with confusion, looking at Namjoon. "[I don't know what your buddys asking.]"

"[Sorry.. he was trying to ask if you'd be willing to switch camps with us. We have a large tent set up on the other side of the lake. He's worried about moving our brother that far.]" Namjoon explains the situation.

"[I'd love to help you out, kid, but our heater can't heat up a big tent like that, and my brother, he can't stand the cold. I'm not making my brother uncomfortable for some stranger I just met.]" Derek answered honestly.

"[I understand. You've done so much already, thank you.]" Namjoon bows. "[I'm sorry.]"

"[Nah kid, don't be sorry. You're looking out for your family. I'm looking out for mine. We'll get your friend to the camp. We'll wrap him up good in blankets, and I'll let you have the medicine.]"

"[That would be great, thank you.]" Namjoon tried to smile despite being disappointed that they had to move Hobi, his lips just barely curling up for a split second.

"We can't stay." Jin says it as a fact.

"Sounds like it.."Taehyung says with a sullen pout.

Namjoon nods slightly to confirm. "Let's at least try to eat, and we'll figure this out.."

"Yoongi, you have to eat.." Jin says softly, pushing the plate towards him. "You haven't eaten since we left Korea.."

Yoongi picks up a piece of fish the the fork, forcing himself to chew and swallow it down. The oily film that coated his tongue didn't help his lack of appetite.

"[Do you not like it?]" Derek asks watching Yoongi's reaction. "[Should I have used soy sauce?]"

"[Ah.. not.. hungry.. not feeling good..]" Yoongi explains, ignoring his comment. If it wasn't for Hoseok telling him to go eat, he would've stayed lying next to him. He could hear Hoseok coughing from the tent, making him try to eat faster to appease his worried hyung.

"[Take some medicine and rest when you get to your camp bud. You don't gotta eat it if you ain't hungry.]" Daryll says with a sympathic smile.

Taehyung quickly finished his portion of food. "I'll sit with Hobi-hyung. [Ah, thank you for food.]" He bows when he gets up, scurrying off to the tent. "Are you awake Hobi-hyungie?" He whispers.

Hoseok twitched at the sound of Taehyung’s voice, but his eyes remained closed, his body not awake enough to reply to him.

Taehyung takes a seat next to him, gently rubbing the back of Hoseok's neck. "The medicine didn't help with the fever.."He murmurs to himself, feeling the sweat pooling at the base of Hobi's neck. "I really don't want us to have to move you.."

"I'll..I'll be okay.." Hoseok's voice comes out as a weak,hoarse whisper, pausing to suppress a cough. "Don't worry.. I'm feeling a little better.."

"I'll make you some ramyeon for me and you to share when we get back to our camp. The broth should help soothe your throat and maybe you could get a little bit in your stomach.." Taehyung didn't get his hopes up, seeing Hoseok's face twist at even the mention of food.

"I'll see..how i feel.. then.." Hoseok says with a wheezing cough. He had absolutely no appetite, and the idea of eating made his stomach queasy.

"It's okay if you can't, Hyung. I don't want you getting sick." Taehyung says soothingly, gently scratching Hoseok's back. "You just rest okay?"

Yoongi entered the tent with the others following behind him. "Ah Hoba you're up."

"Are you feeling any better?" Namjoon asks, dropping to Hoseok's side.

"A little but 'm still freezing and..it hur..ts to bre..athe.." Hoseok answers honestly, coughing between words.

"I'm sorry Hoba.. I wish there was more I could do to help.." Namjoon says softly, feeling useless. He was tempted to go against Hoseok's request to wait to take an ambulance to the hospital. The idea of being surrounded by people who he could hardly understand made him feel anxious, and he didn't want to make him feel any more stressed.

"It's not your fault..you're doing all you can. I'm doing better.." Hoeseok tries right comfort him, but the crack in his voice from holding back a cough doesn't convince him.

"We should move to our camp before the sun starts setting, it'll only get colder.." Yoongi urges gently. "I'll carry him first.."

"No, you won't. You can hardly move your shoulder hyung. You aren't carrying him at all." Namjoon says bluntly.

"It's feeling better now.. As long as I support most of his weight on-"

"Yoongi. Namjoon said no, and so do I. I know you feel like it's your fault and want to take responsibility, but it was an accident. It could've happened to any of us." Jin uses his stern serious tone, taking advantage of being the oldest to get his way. "The five of us will handle Hoba, you can carry our things. That's it."

"Yes, Hyung.." Yoongi leaves the tent, gathering up their belongings from outside, taking a deep breath to try to calm his nerves.

Namjoon picks up Hoseok bridal style blanket and all, slowly rising to his feet. "I'll carry him first."

"Alright. I'll take over when you get tired. Don't push yourself." Jin warns tucking the blanket tightly around Hoseok's body, pushing the ends in-between his side and Namjoon's abdomen. "That should keep the wind out."

"Hyungie can wear my beanie too.." Jungkook takes off his hat, putting it on Hoseok, pulling it as far down as possible to cover his ears.

Namjoon tenses when Hoseok starts coughing again, Jungkook putting his hands on Namjoon’s shoulders to keep him steady.

Hoseok wraps his arms around Namjoon, burying his face in his chest as he tried to stop coughing, feeling dizzy as whole body rattles from his coughs.

Namjoon holds him tighter, his heart thumping wildly in his chest, watching his friend suffering. "We need to get moving..it's okay, I got him.." he moves out of the tent.

"[I'll walk with you so i can take the blanket back to our camp.]" Daryll grabs a flashlight to accompany them, but Yoongi waves him off.

"[I'll walk it back.]" Yoongi says simply.

"[Alright. You boys be careful. I hope Hobi feels better soon]" Derek says sincerely.

[lagingersnapz]

Some Rain Must Fall - (Fallout Fic) Chapter 6: Frog Legs

Chapter: 6/?

In the past, Lucy finds out what it feels like to be a worm on a fishing line.

In the present, Lucy starts cleaning up in the aftermath of the Brotherhood, and is surprised when the Ghoul comes to help her. Later, they go out to hunt down some extra food, but find more than they bargained for out in the swamp.

Characters: Lucy MacLean/Cooper Howard(The Ghoul), Dogmeat(CX-404), Original Characters

Word Count: 5276

Warnings: Violence, Swearing

Author's Note: I think this was the first chapter that I finished and really felt like I was happy with it and had finally found the tone I wanted for my fic. Also, welcome to the start of me forgetting that most of the water on the surface is irradiated. As a reminder, I am posting a chapter a day here until I am caught up with what I have posted on Ao3. Currently I have 15 chapters up there, though I'm hoping to get Chapter 16 posted by tomorrow at the latest.

Previous Next

Ao3

~~~

Water was seeping back into Lucy’s nose and she strained her eyes once again, trying to see through the gloom. At first there was nothing, except maybe a few small and distant fish, but then, to her horror, she noticed something else coming closer. This shape grew in size as it drew near, and Lucy opened her mouth to scream, to try and let the Ghoul know that the gulper was here and he could pull her up now. Her hands grabbed for the ropes, desperate once again to free herself. She wondered which would be worse, drowning or being eaten alive?

Suddenly the thing surged forward, clamping its mouth around the anchor that was tied to her, turning the metal into more of a fish hook than anything else. It was shaking it violently, trying to dislodge it, but the anchor stayed firmly in place. Lucy tried to scream again, getting a mouthful of water, thrashing wildly and feeling very much like a worm.

There was a tug at her back, and Lucy was being pulled out of the water. Not straight up like she had been before, but rather to the side and onto the walkway, followed by the anchor and the thing attached to it. She strained to see it through the water streaming over her face. It was massive, more so than she had even thought it was in the water. Its skin was pink, and it opened its mouth and let out a wail that was eerily similar to a human cry, and in its mouth she saw… fingers?! Were those fingers in its mouth? What the fudge was this thing?

Before she could say anything about it, the creature was thrashing again, trying to simultaneously get the anchor out of its jaw and also pull her closer to get a bite. Lucy pushed away with all her strength, but the rope still held steady, keeping her bound to the creature that seemed determined to eat her. It started snapping at her legs, and Lucy kicked at it frantically until it managed to catch her foot in its mouth. Through the leather of her boots, she could feel the weird finger things pulling at her, trying to get her further inside.

The Ghoul came out of seemingly nowhere, wielding a knife tied to the end of a stick, he jabbed at the thing, but it barely seemed to register the attacks. Finally the rope snapped, and Lucy fell back, just missing it as the gulper lashed out with its tongue. The Ghoul wasn’t so lucky, and it caught him across the face, sending him sprawling. Then it grabbed Lucy by the foot again and started dragging her towards the water, and she realized that the rope had also been the only thing keeping the gulper on dry land. Now it was free, and seemingly intent on taking her away to eat somewhere else.

Lucy scrabbled, searching for anything with her still bound hands. She felt her fingers brush something, and reached for it, grabbing it up to wield as a weapon, though she wasn’t even sure what it was. As she started walloping the thing across the head with it, she realized what she had was the Ghoul’s saddlebags. Better his saddlebags than her, though, and as it opened its mouth to roar at her, she threw the bags in.

The gulper crunched the bags around for a moment before spitting them out, roaring another angry challenge at Lucy. Before it could try and bite her again, however, the dog, which had been barking frantically through the entire encounter, darted forward and closed its jaws around the thing's hand, shaking wildly. The creature roared again in pain, looked down at the latest attacker, and then tore its hand away, diving backwards into the water. As it disappeared beneath the churned up lakewater, the Ghoul regained his footing and rushed to the end of the walkway, but it was too late.

As Lucy pushed herself further from the water, she started to climb back to her knees coughing and sputtering. The Ghoul reached for his saddlebags, pulling out a little metal box, which was very obviously damaged, even from where Lucy was sitting. He opened it, digging around frantically, collecting shattered glass in his gloved fingers. He looked horrified by what he was seeing, and then threw down the box, sending little pieces of glass scattering around.

“Motherfucker!” he shouted, drawing his gun and advancing on her. Lucy got the feeling he wasn’t calling her a motherfucker, so much as he was referring to the whole situation, and frankly, Lucy agreed with the sentiment, though for different reasons.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she managed to force out, still breathing hard. “I should have just let you use me as bait in a poisoned river?!” Her voice rose as she confronted him, not even caring anymore about the gun in his hand. If he was gonna shoot her, he better just get it over with.

The Ghoul continued to look at her for a moment longer, both of them panting, before he lowered the gun and turned away, pacing a little bit.

“Fuck!” he shouted, looking out over the lake, probably searching for their vanished gulper.

“You can’t treat people like this!” Lucy’s voice was breaking, and she felt sick.

The Ghoul didn’t bother to look at her. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

The question caught Lucy off guard, and she moved to sit up more. “Because of the Golden Rule. ‘Do unto others as you would have done unto you.’” Every man, woman, and child who was old enough to speak knew about the Golden Rule back home, but she supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised that the surface didn’t.

With a sigh, the Ghoul kept looking out over the lake. “Those gulpers digest real slow. You got time.” His voice was quiet, and he was obviously talking to himself. Lucy pushed herself fully to her feet, still breathing hard, and her eyes still burning. The Ghoul grabbed up his saddlebags, pulling something out as he stalked closer to her. Lucy realized too late what it was.

“No. No, no. Stop!”

She didn’t even get a chance to back away before the thin rope slipped over her head, and the Ghoul tightened it with a grimace. Then he gave the rope a yank and started dragging Lucy behind him like a disobedient dog.

“Where are we going?” she asked, knowing it wouldn’t be anywhere good. “What about the head? I need the head to get my dad back!”

“Yeah, well, the Wasteland’s got its own ‘Golden Rule.’” the Ghoul said.

“Oh, what’s that?” Lucy was already struggling to keep up, not having regained her breath or composure after the encounter with the gulper.

“Thou shalt get sidetracked by bullshit every goddamn time.”

Behind them, the dog continued to bark frantically at the water.

“What about the dog?” Lucy asked. If the gulper came back, it could eat the canine whole.

“He ain’t mine.” The Ghoul’s voice hardened, and the lake and the dog disappeared behind the trees.

***

When the Ghoul came walking down the stairs into the shelter, Lucy tried as hard as she could to hide the smile on her face from him. All she wanted to do was thank him for staying and tell him how much it meant to all of them, but somehow she figured that if she pointed out that he had chosen to do the right thing so soon, he might end up changing his mind and leaving.

After checking to see if the other adult survivors needed help with the children and being assured they had it all under control, Lucy left the shelter again. The Ghoul had been staring daggers into her back, and she knew he must have a few choice words for her that he didn’t want to say in front of the others. Lucy also had a few things she wanted to get done that day while they all prepared for the journey they would need to make.

The sun was out in full force, beating down on the top of Lucy’s head as she rolled a body onto the ratty blanket she had commandeered for the task of transporting the dead. The Ghoul had been right, there was no time to bury them all, but Lucy wasn’t about to leave all their corpses to rot in the sun. Most of them were still in a state of rigor mortis, though some had already started to lose their stiffened state. She was just glad that none had started to bloat yet despite the humidity. The settlement was larger than Lucy had realized, and so was the number of dead.

The most heavily damaged of the buildings was serving as their mausoleum, and Lucy was toying with the notion of turning it into a pyre before they left. It was true the smoke might attract attention, but if they set the blaze small it would give them time to get away before it became large enough to really be noticeable. It was probably a foolish thought, but even putting them in the remains of the building wouldn’t save them from scavengers for long.

As Lucy struggled with a particularly difficult trip, a hand came down on hers, startling her out of her thoughts. Lucy’s gaze darted up, and she found the Ghoul standing there, looking at her with his frustratingly blank expression. His gloved hand had settled over hers, pausing her in her task, and their eyes locked. In his other hand he held his canteen.

“Here. You take a breather for a second.” He slid his hand over hers until he could take the edge of the blanket out of her grasp, pushing the canteen into her hand instead. Lucy narrowed her eyes at the sudden show of kindness, though a shiver ran down her spine as the unexpected contact ended. She had expected him to come down on her with the force of a thunderstorm, angry and loud. She had seen his expression from the edge of the settlement as she had watched him start to leave, and she had no illusions about how he felt about staying… Yet, he had stayed. Just like when she was injured and had expected him to leave, he surprised her instead by staying.

“Thanks.” Lucy’s voice was hoarse, her throat dry and scratchy. Whether he realized she was thanking him for more than coming to help her just now, or for the water, she decided she didn’t care. She wiped her arm across her forehead to take some of the sweat off, and the Ghoul grunted as he pulled off his hat and plopped it on her head. Lucy froze in shock.

“You should see the shade of red you’re turning. Can’t even tell if it’s the work or a sunburn doin’ it,” the Ghoul said as an explanation. Lucy continued to stand, the canteen in hand, watching as he started dragging the body on the blanket towards the shell of the building. Clearly he had been watching what she was doing, because he didn’t need any instruction or explanation. The unexpected act of kindness confused her more than anything else he could have done.

Lucy finally took a drink from the canteen, enjoying the feel of the water on her parched throat. She knew that the water probably wasn’t all that cool, but with how hot she was already, it was the most refreshing feeling she had ever experienced, and she took a second to close her eyes and pretend she was somewhere else. Faint images took shape in her mind of the fields she had walked through with her mother as a child, fields she now knew were a part of Shady Sands.

The Ghoul had finished moving the one body, and had moved on to the next. Lucy tucked the canteen into a large enough satchel she had attached to her belt, feeling it tap against her outer thigh as she hurried over to him, stooping to help move the body onto the blanket. The Ghoul didn’t say anything at first, but as Lucy took one corner of the blanket from him so they could pull it together, he asked her about the one question she had least expected.

“The ghoul you put down at the observatory… Who was it?”

Lucy should have known he would ask about it eventually, but she had expected it to take a little longer. When he had put down Roger at the clinic, she had been appalled, though that had more to do with the fact that he was mid sentence about his mother. Now that Lucy had seen what could happen to ghouls, and knew it had been happening to Roger as well, she understood the mercy in what he had done. But there had been no humanity left to save in the ghoul in the observatory.

“She was my mom,” Lucy said simply. They reached the house and she let the Ghoul move the body inside while she took the blanket on to the next corpse. When he rejoined her she continued. “I know she was gone. It wasn’t like… it wasn’t like Roger. But I couldn’t leave her there like that. I couldn’t leave her for the Brotherhood to take care of, either. Thaddeus and Max made it pretty clear what the Brotherhood thinks of ghouls.”

The Ghoul wasn’t looking at her while they worked. Lucy had to readjust his hat on her head, and she had to admit it felt better than baking in the sun. She glanced back at him, taking in his appearance more clearly. Although the Ghoul had no hair on his head and no facial hair, he still had eyelashes. His skin had shocked her the first time she had seen it, but now the oddness of his appearance was already becoming normal to her, despite them only traveling together for a short time.

They continued in silence for another hour or so before stopping to share drinks from the canteen in the shade of one of the buildings The Ghoul had let the conversation about Lucy's mother drop, but somehow she felt it wasn't the end of it.

“So, you seem pretty dead set on helpin’ these people.” The Ghoul had adopted his thick drawl that he got when he was about to try and look tougher than normal. Lucy had only seen it a few times, but she had picked up on it anyways. “You got a plan on how to do that? Know about some other secret settlement of good people that’ll just take ‘em in?” It was clear from his voice that he didn’t think she had a place or a plan in store, so Lucy took great pleasure in her response.

“As a matter of fact, I do know of such a place.”

This seemed to take the Ghoul off guard. Clearly he had thought he had her on that one. “Really? And where would that be, exactly? You gonna bring ‘em back to Filly?” The sarcasm in his statement would have annoyed her if she hadn’t still known she had the upper hand.

“No, it’s a vault.”

At that, the Ghoul’s face darkened, and he sneered at her. “You’re really gonna trust these people to a vault? I thought you were supposed to be smart.”

Lucy returned his look in full, the quiet truce of the morning work finally breaking under his condescension. “It’s not run by Vault-Tec anymore,” she explained in her best ‘I’m a patient school teacher talking to a particularly difficult student’ voice. “It’s run by survivors now. Max and I found it.”

“And you think they’ll take in this group?” He was clearly skeptical. Lucy put the canteen away again when he handed it to her. The Ghoul shrugged off his duster, hanging it on a broken board of the wall next to them, then ran a gloved hand over his head.

“Yes. They offered spots to Max and I. And they told me they take people in.”

This time the Ghoul didn’t respond with words, but his grunt let her know he didn’t believe what she was saying for even a second. A friendly settlement was hard enough to believe, but a safe and friendly vault ? She could see why he might be skeptical, as he seemed to have a deep hatred of Vault-Tec. Given what Lucy had seen on Level 12 of Vault 4, and what Moldaver had told her Vault-Tec had done, maybe she couldn’t blame him for that.

The pair of them finished moving the bodies sometime after mid-day, and Lucy’s stomach was howling at her in protest of her skipped lunch, considering all the work she was doing. The other survivors stayed in the shelter, and Lucy had no doubt they were still mourning. They had lost their entire world, and it hadn’t even taken very long. Worse still, they had only just settled into this home before it was taken from just like that last one. All because they had had help from people the Brotherhood didn't like.

“Here,” Lucy took the hat off of her head and handed it to the Ghoul as they walked back to the shelter. He glanced at her and then accepted it, inspecting it quickly before placing it back on his own head. “Thanks again. And thanks for the help.” She took a deep breath. “And for staying.”

The Ghoul huffed sharply, shrugging his shoulders. He had retrieved his duster but not put it back on yet, and it was draped over one arm as he walked. “Haven’t made up my mind about whether I’m really gonna stick around or not yet,” he said. Lucy looked away to smile a little.

“If you say so… Wyatt.”

“That’s it. Come here so I can beat your ass,” the Ghoul snapped, reaching for her. Lucy laughed, actually laughed, and dodged out of the way of his hand. It felt strange to laugh after all the things that had happened, and what she had just spent the first half of the day doing. Maybe the sun had fried her brain after all. The Ghoul didn’t make a grab for her again as they reached the stairs, but followed her down them closely. It was cooler in the underground shelter, and she was beyond happy to be out of the sun.

“Lucy.” The woman who greeted them was the elderly widow, who Lucy had been introduced to as Irene. “And I don’t think I got this one’s name,” she hooked a weathered thumb in the Ghoul’s direction.

“Oh, you can call him Wyatt,” Lucy said as she turned to greet Kelly, who had started towards them as soon as they had entered the room.

“Vaultie, I swear to god if you don’t stop calling me that…”

“He won’t tell me his real name, but he doesn’t like that name I picked for him, either.” Lucy interrupted him.

Irene looked at the Ghoul for a moment before smiling slyly. “Well, if he doesn’t like it maybe he should supply his own name. Wyatt sounds like it’ll do just fine until then.”

***

Cooper was seriously debating his decision to stay as he was ganged up on by Lucy and the old woman. It was almost enough to get him to tell them a different name. But not quite. And still far from him being willing to tell them his actual name. Lucy greeted Kelly, giving the girl a small hug, and Cooper had to look away from the sight. The image of Janey kept coming back to him whenever he looked at the little girl now, and he wasn’t ready for it.

“I’m Irene,” the old woman said, taking a plate from a nearby table that had been salvaged from the house above and handing it to him. It had stewed tatos and stale bread on it. “See how easy it is, giving someone a name to call you?”

Cooper ground his teeth together. This woman was as bad as Lucy. He swallowed down the lump in his throat. “Well, thank you kindly, Irene.” He could pretend manners. Especially if it would get him out of further conversation. Cooper pulled his gloves off and scooped some of the food into his mouth with his hands.

“Lucy says she’s got a new place for us to live.” Cooper hadn’t even noticed Kelly coming up next to him. She was looking up at him with skepticism. “You gonna help us too?”

“Well, Kiddo, I’m here, ain’t I?”

Kelly nodded, sniffling and wiping her nose on her arm. She had clearly been crying recently, her brown eyes bloodshot and red-rimmed, and was trying to cover it up. “We’re gonna need more food. I can help hunt. My dad used to take me out with him. That’s what we was doin’ when we found ya.”

Cooper’s first instinct was to tell the little girl that there was no way he would take her out hunting, but when he met her eyes the words stuck in his throat. He coughed a little and chewed his food for much longer than was necessary. “Maybe,” he finally grunted.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’” Kelly said and turned to walk away from him. Cooper wanted to rub his hand over his eyes, but one hand held the plate and the other had food on it. Dogmeat had come over to him and was staring up at him with wide, begging eyes that did not suit a dog so well trained, and Cooper sighed, plucking a chunk of tato off of his plate and dropping it. Dogmeat snatched it out of the air before it could hit the ground, and afterwards her lolling tongue made her look like she was grinning up at him. Cooper smiled back. But just a little.

While Irene and the other settlement survivors started taking thorough stock of their food stores and salvaging from the houses, Cooper got ready to go out and see if he could catch anything that might serve as food. There were no shortage of critters out there, but whether they could catch them was another matter. He had only planned on bringing Dogmeat with him, but those plans were dashed when Lucy and Kelly came strolling up to him. Kelly’s face was smeared with mud, just like the first time they had seen her. Cooper couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows.

“To cover my smell from the animals,” she explained with a look so serious Cooper had a hard time keeping a straight face.

“Sounds smart,” he finally said, then turned to look up at Lucy. “Wasn’t really planning for company on this little huntin’ trip, though.”

“Oh, wow, that’s too bad for you then, isn’t it.” Lucy’s eyes were wide and innocent and Cooper snorted, amused despite himself.

The four of them, three humans and one dog, left camp a short while later, after Cooper had had a chance to make sure they had weapons to hunt with, and to make sure Kelly actually knew anything about using a gun. It didn’t take long for Dogmeat to pick up a scent, and they followed her as quietly through the brush as they could. The ground was soggy again as they gained distance from the camp, and it was hard to keep their feet from squelching in the mud and water.

Cooper bent to check something as Dogmeat came to a stop, then stood again, beckoning Lucy and Kelly closer. “Think we’re in luck,” he said. “Looks like there’s frogs around.” Lucy looked confused by the idea of frogs as a food source, but Kelly’s eyes brightened and she nodded enthusiastically. Cooper took a moment to wonder if Lucy had ever seen a frog up on the surface, or if she thought they were still like they had been in the old world.

“Big frogs,” he said. Lucy nodded, and now he was sure she had no clue what she was in for. He knew he should warn her, but another part of him knew it would be a lot funnier for her to experience this for herself. “Kelly,” he called to the young girl. “Stay close.”

Kelly nodded and looked around, seemingly perfectly at home out here in the swamp. The mud she smeared on her arms helped keep the bugs off of her, and she didn’t seem to mind water. Cooper and Kelly started around one side of a deeper pool of water, and Lucy and Dogmeat went the other way.

They all heard it before they saw it, the loud, deep croak of a frog. Cooper wished he could see Lucy’s face right now. Even just from the sound, it was obvious this was much bigger than any frog she could have imagined. The sun was on its way towards the horizon, so now would be about the right time for them to really start making some noise.

“Can I get this one?” Kelly asked.

Cooper looked down at her for a second before gesturing in front of him. “After you, Kiddo.”

Kelly moved forward with a startling amount of stealth, and Cooper smiled again, a little more freely since nobody could see him. Looking at the young girl still gave him an uncomfortable ache in his chest, but he was getting better at ignoring it. The more he spent time around her, the better he could separate her from Janey, he figured. After all, there were few real similarities between the two of them. Kelly was older, and her hair was a dirty blonde, even when she didn’t have mud in it.

The sound of the frog grew louder until it was cut off by a gunshot. Everything else around them went quiet, though Cooper doubted it would stay that way for long. Frogs weren’t the smartest of creatures and wouldn’t hide for long. As Cooper moved closer to see how the girl had done, Lucy came sloshing out of the weeds through thigh high water. At the sight of the frog, her jaw dropped, and Cooper allowed himself a short laugh.

The frog was massive by old world standards. It was bigger than Dogmeat, and would probably even think of eating the dog if it decided it could fit her in its mouth. Not that this one would be eating anything, anymore. Quite the opposite, in fact.

“Nice shot,” Cooper congratulated, and Kelly gave him a bright smile, though it quickly turned smug.

“See? Told ya I could help with huntin’.”

Cooper nodded, placing a hand thoughtfully on his chin as he looked down at the frog. “We’ll need more than one frog for this trip, though,” he said.

Kelly nodded as well. “Right.” Then she turned and started moving away from the two of them.

“So, Sweetheart, how are you feeling about some frog legs?” Cooper moved so he was standing next to Lucy, enjoying the look of shock that was still plastered over her face, though she had managed to close her mouth again.

“ That’s a frog?” she asked.

“And they’re delicious.” Cooper was just trying to get another rise out of her this time, and he was rewarded when she shuddered a little, but then her shock disappeared behind a determined expression.

“Can’t be any worse than the puddle water you made me drink before.”

The reminder of his previous treatment of Lucy took Cooper by surprise, and he struggled to sort out exactly which emotions were tied to it. He hadn’t really thought much about it before, but now the thoughts stirred up an unpleasant feeling in his chest. “Coulda been worse. I could make you drink this water.” He gestured to the swampy water around them.

“You think you could make me drink this water?” Lucy asked, her eyebrow raised.

Cooper hadn’t really meant it, but when she said it like that, with a challenge glinting in her eyes… Well… He started to move towards her, a menacing smile curving his damaged lips. Lucy’s eyes went wide as she took a small step back, and he was sure she was biting her bottom lip to keep herself from smiling.

“Lucy! Wyatt!” Kelly’s scream grabbed their attention violently, and both started moving towards the sound, the almost playful moment from before forgotten about in an instant as they splashed loudly through the water. Cooper almost lost his footing and went face first into the muck, but managed to catch himself at the last second. The moment of unsteadiness let Lucy reach Kelly first.

A frog had its mouth around as much of the girl as it could fit, but couldn’t swallow her whole. She still had her head, legs, and one arm free. The frog was trying to readjust its hold on her, and she was trying to twist and aim her gun at it.

“I don’t think I can shoot it without getting myself!” Kelly shouted, and she looked and sounded more frustrated than scared. Dogmeat was barking and doing her best to bite at the frog, but the water was just deep enough that she kept getting mouthfuls of water for her efforts.

Lucy sloshed over to Kelly’s side and grabbed her under the armpits, and Cooper moved to the frog’s mouth, working to pry it open. The frog had been ready to take on a young girl and a dog, but the four of them together was a little more than it wanted to deal with, apparently, because it let go of her and went to jump away. Before it could, Cooper had drawn his gun and fired a shot straight through one of its eyes.

Kelly was panting hard as she watched the frog sink down, then looked at herself and her face screwed up in disgust. “Yuck.” She tried to wipe some of the slimy mucus off of her clothes but only succeeded in smearing it around. As the panic subsided, Lucy smiled again, then snickered, and eventually she let out a full blown laugh at the little girl covered in slime. The corner of Cooper's lips quirked up a little as well as he holstered the gun.

“Come on,” he said. “Might as well try for one more. We can each carry one back.” Even as he said it he knew Kelly wouldn’t be able to haul one of these things back on her own, but he wasn’t ready to go back to the ruined settlement quite yet.

Kelly nodded, though she still looked grossed out, and went to keep moving, Lucy close behind her. Behind him, Cooper heard something move in the water and turned, expecting to see another frog. Instead, he was met with… Well, frankly he didn’t know what the fuck this thing was. It was big, though half submerged it was hard to judge its length. At first he thought it might be a snake, one of those giant ones he had read about in the newspaper a lifetime ago, but its segmented body looked more like a huge worm, complete with an almost featureless head. It didn’t look like it had any eyes, but below its nostrils were two short feelers.

Cooper stood, staring at it, not sure exactly what he was supposed to be doing. First instinct said to shoot it, and he drew his gun. Before he could aim or pull the trigger, the thing moved. Its face split open to reveal a mouth with two rows of long, backwards pointing teeth. It screeched and dove for him, clamping its mouth onto his arm and dragging him down into the water.

[basket-of-cats-and-witches]

In Sickness and Health

In which Kiri finds herself with a persistent cough, and Zayne takes care of her.

We're still on the hurt/comfort train. Personally I loved this piece, for all that it gets a little gross with illness. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

Likes and reblogs are appreciated, they tell me that people enjoy my writing!

---

“Remind me to beg Captain Jenna to never put us in a swamp again.”

Kiri trudges into the apartment complex. Her clothes are damp, her hair smells like peat moss, and to top it all off, she has a cough that won't go away.

Xavier nods tiredly. He looks almost as bad as she feels. For the normally nonplussed Hunter to be like this, well… “That was…unpleasant,” he agrees. “Especially when it started pouring rain.”

As they step into the elevator, he glances sidelong at her, reaching out to check her temperature. “Are you okay? You look feverish. And you've been off since we got back.”

She bats his hand away. There's a weight on her chest, and her head feels like it's sealed tight with hot steam, ready to burst. “I'm fine,” she replies. “I just need a shower and to burn my uniform. No one should ever wear that thing again.”

Xavier nods his agreement as they reach Kiri’s floor. “I'll see you later?”

She nods. “Later. At least remember to get clean before you sleep.”

His agreement is shut off by the closing elevator doors.

She feels awful.

There's that cough again. It seems to be getting worse, more persistent.

It's bad enough that she pulls out her phone, reluctant and dripping swamp water in her entryway.

Riri💖 [7:14pm]: Zizi, I'm canceling tomorrow. Think I'm sick. Sorry for missing our standing date.

There's no reply.

She sighs and turns off her screen, tossing the phone onto the couch. Peeling the wet, cold clothes from her body is a sensory nightmare.

They slop into a pile on her bathroom floor. Kiri no longer cares, her uniform can just rot there. It's nasty, it smells like swamp funk, and she's pretty sure she's going to have to request a new set anyway.

Whoever designed these uniforms with a built-in corset was sadistic and probably also a Wanderer.

Thankfully, as much as the hot shower doesn't cure her illness, it does seem to help with her cough. She practically hacks up a lung in the billowing steam.

As she stumbles out, she can hear the shrill ring of her phone from the couch.

It's a struggle to make it there, but she does, tiredly pressing the answer button before she checks caller ID.

“Hey,” Kiri says, coughing. “Xav, I think I've come down with something. Make sure to-” the coughing fit doubles down, and she doesn't hear a response before the phone call suddenly ends.

Through watery eyes, she stares at the screen.

Five missed texts and a phone call from “Ice Prince”.

Fuck.

Flopping down on the seat, she groans. There's cough medicine in the cabinet, but it feels so far away.

Maybe she'll just rest her head for a moment, and then grab it.

Maybe….

Kiri wakes up to a cool cloth on her brow. The sheer amount of congestion she has makes her feel like an overfilled water balloon.

She blinks, blearily realizing she's in her bedroom.

“How did I…” she mumbles.

“I carried you,” a gentle voice replies, strangely muffled. Zayne stands in her doorway, a tray in hand. The lower half of his face is covered by a mask. He sets the tray on the nightstand, moving a book out of the way.

“It's likely you have pneumonia,” he continues, grabbing a home thermometer from it. “Open, please.”

“Likely?” She mumbles, opening her mouth.

He nods. “Under the tongue, and close. Good. When you answered, I assumed you thought you were speaking to your partner, Xavier, so I checked in with him briefly. I would have to do further tests at the hospital to confirm a diagnosis, but the symptoms he mentioned and what I've seen here generally tend to line up.”

She pushes his hand away as another coughing fit takes over, turning away as her chest heaves.

He hands her a tissue, and she uses it to cover her mouth as something frees itself, making her feel worse as her throat grows sore.

She pulls it away and groans at the gross contents, and Zayne sighs. “That confirms it. I'll drive you to the hospital.”

One drive later, and they're in Akso Hospital. Zayne handles the majority of the talking, although the poor medical receptionist’s eyes nearly pop out of her head at the sight of the lead cardiac surgeon holding hands with someone.

At some point while he was driving, he took her hand in his and didn't let go.

She hardly minds. Kiri feels like absolute shit, and she hates being a patient at a hospital on the best of days.

Time passes in a blur, and she's being examined and tested before she knows it. The hospital bed is sterile, the sheets are a little scratchy but warm, and she hates being put into a hospital gown.

Still, throughout it all, Zayne continues to hold her hand. His fingers are soft but bony, her knuckles bumping against his. She sighs, coughing, and goes to lean on his shoulder, stopping at the last second.

Zayne gives her an odd look. “Why did you pull away? You can rest on me, you know.”

“I'll get you sick,” she whines pitifully. “You have work later.”

His eyes crinkle behind the mask, and he gestures to it pointedly. “I put in some emergency sick leave.”

“But your patients-” she protests.

Zayne squeezes her hand. “-can wait,” he finishes. “I have a very sick one right here. Not to mention, you're my girlfriend. It's my duty to care for you when you can't care for yourself.” He tugs at her slightly. “Rest.”

With a huff, she settles her head on his shoulder.

For a while, she drifts in and out of consciousness, the sound of the lights buzzing faintly and nurses murmuring in the distance the only sound.

Zayne taps away on his phone, resting his head on top of hers. His breathing is deep and even, strangely soothing in its consistency.

Something pops into her head. “Zayne?”

“Mmh?” He makes a sound to let her know he's listening.

“How did you get into my house?” She asks.

He sighs. “You left your door unlocked. There was also a puddle in the entryway that I cleaned up.”

Kiri winces. “...sorry.”

Zayne shakes his head fondly. “You need to be more careful.”

Someone knocks on the door, and Zayne returns to attention, putting away his phone.

The urgent care doctor comes in, and Kiri closes her eyes, letting Zayne's voice wash over her as the two talk.

“-surprised to see you here, Doctor Zayne. I thought you took sick leave today.”

Zayne nods. “I did. This is my girlfriend.”

Something warms in Kiri’s heart at that, and she looks up at the doctor blearily, nodding.

He's seems taken aback, but smiles. “Oh, I see. You're Kirielle Atwell, right? I have the results for you.”

“Is it pneumonia?” She asks tiredly.

The doctor nods. “You got lucky, thankfully. Tests show it's pretty mild, so we can get some fluids into you and send you home with an antifungal medication.”

She and Zayne both breathe a sigh of relief.

“What are your recommendations?” Zayne asks. “I'll be taking care of her until she recovers.”

Kiri opens her mouth to protest, but all it takes is one glance from her boyfriend and she closes it again with a cough.

The doctor goes through a set of detailed instructions, and Kiri tunes back out. She's too tired to care, even as they give her fluids and her first dosage of medication.

Soon, they're back on their way. Kiri can't help but feel her eyes slide shut, her body trying to force her into shutdown.

Zayne taps his finger against the back of her hand to get her attention, and she jolts back to consciousness.

He snorts, trying to cover a laugh.

Kiri pouts at him. “Don't laugh, I'm sick,” she whines.

“I know,” Zayne says gently. “But I need to ask a question, so stay awake for a bit longer.”

“What is it?” She says, yawning.

Zayne looks at the road, the red light casting him in a crimson aura, glinting off his glasses. “Would you rather recover at your home, or mine? It might be easier for me to take care of you where I can be fully stocked on supplies.”

Kiri glances out the side window as the car continues on, mulling it over. They've got a little ways before Zayne has to turn off to his apartment.

In many ways, her apartment has become a dark, dusty place where she throws down her clothes and passes out before the next mission. Her workload over time has increased, making her restless and unwilling to be at home. There's too much to do, too much to see, and she honestly spends more of her free time at Zayne's than she does at her own.

It's gotten to the point where she keeps clothes in a drawer at his, and one nightstand has become ‘hers’.

Sometimes she feels like she knows his place better than her own.

Kiri turns back to him. Her chest burns slightly, her head swims, and all she can think of is how much better she would feel in a place that's surrounded by everything that belongs to him.

“Yours, I think,” she replies softly. “I know we left things at mine, but-”

He shakes his head. “I can grab anything you need while you're sleeping. I just want you to be as comfortable as possible.”

Kiri smiles warmly at him. “I love you,” she says without thinking.

Zayne accidentally stalls the engine, whipping his head towards her. His eyes are wide, startled, and she realizes she's never seen him blush before.

They're lucky the road is practically empty at this time of night.

Kiri wonders what his mouth is doing underneath his mask.

In her feverish state, she adjusts the one the hospital gave her, making sure it's fully in place, before leaning over and pressing her mask to his in a pseudo-kiss.

He's still in shock as she turns away, looking back out the window. Her face is aflame, and it isn't just the fever.

A few moments later, the car begins to move again. Zayne makes the turn to his place, as silent as she is.

Finally, he pulls into the garage and parks his car, turning in his seat to face her. “Kiri,” he says softly.

It's all he needs to get her to turn. Coughing, she looks at him shyly. “Yes?” She whispers.

Reaching out, he entwines their fingers again, and she can feel the ice that coats his skin.

“I feel the same.” His voice is tender, his eyes soft. His hand trembles against hers.

Kiri beams at him. “I'm glad. I'm glad it was you.”

Days pass by. Zayne thankfully doesn't get sick from Kiri's antics, but something has changed between the two of them.

There's a delightful awkwardness that causes both of them to fluster easily, as if they were both lovesick teenagers with their first crushes.

Over time, Kiri’s fever breaks, and her coughing subsides. She's honestly never felt more embarrassed about the awful things she's hacking up, and whenever she feels miserably disgusting, Zayne comforts her and assures he's seen much, much worse. It isn't quite as persuasive as he thinks, but she's too caught up in the high of “he loves me back” to tell him.

Then, finally, it's over.

She wakes up with her head pillowed on Zayne's lap as he works, catching up on any assignments or patient updates that require his attention.

“Did you sleep well?” He murmurs, his eyes still on his laptop, perched precariously on the couch arm.

She nods, turning and burying her face in his stomach. “I think I'm all better,” she mumbles. “I can think again.”

He hums in agreement. “You sound much clearer. When you called me on the phone that first day, I could barely understand you.”

Kiri groans, pinching his side in punishment. “Don't remind me. I can't believe I didn't check first.”

“Would you still have picked up if it was me?” He asks, his fingers flying across the keyboard.

“Mmhm. You're my doctor, after all. You'd scold me if I didn't.” She sighs as his hand strokes her hair lovingly.

Finally, he hits ‘enter’ and closes the laptop. “Then should I drive you home?”

She hesitates. It's dark and dreary there, like a depression cave. Once she goes, it's likely she won't see him for a while.

Kiri wraps her arms around his waist, pressing her face against his stomach.

“What's wrong?” He asks gently. “Kiri?”

She peeks up at him, and embarrassingly, feels the sting of tears. “I don't want to,” she says in a small voice. The logical Kiri in the back of her mind is mortified by her behavior, but she can't seem to bring herself to care.

“We'll see each other again soon. You know I have to go back to work eventually. There are other patients I have to tend to.” His tone is soft, and it only makes her feel worse when the tears begin to flow.

“I know,” she says miserably. “But it's not home. You're home.”

“Oh,” he says. The weight of what she just said hits him like a freight train, and she watches as it sends him reeling. “Oh.”

Zayne reaches down, pulling her up into his arms properly, holding her tight.

“Then,” he says carefully. “Do you…want to move in with me? I still won't be home quite as much, but…”

Finally free of her sickness, she cuts him off with a kiss.

His hands slide down to settle on her hips, and he returns the affection twice as fiercely.

When at last she pulls away, she nods. “Yes,” Kiri says breathlessly. “My home is where you are.”

Zayne smiles up at her, a full smile, brilliant and as blinding as fresh snow. “And my home is your heart.”

[bluebunnysart]

Ok I guess we're doing this again because Slyvasta's art is SO based and it's fanart of something I made again and that makes me go a little insane, if not a little feral, so here we go.

https://x.com/Slyvasta/status/1820390822740947193

It's spoiler-free once again, so even people who haven't read Song or Rain can look at it. c: It's so freakin' good... I've been wanting to do this all day (gush about it) but I was out of the house all day and I kinda deprived myself of some sleep from looking up motivational/romantic poetry/quotes again so lmfao. Woops.

Major spoilers for my Mikuteto/Negidrill fanfics below, of course! Mainly just fangirling but I'll also be talking about what I've been cooking and their relationship in general and so on, and I think it's better to see that for yourself instead of letting the author spoonfeed everything in her mind to you xD. It won't be 2 hours this time; it'll be like 30 mins to an hour I think 'cuz I'm sleepy (and somewhat restrained yet unrestrained for a moment right now xD) but watch me eat my words. 😂

Fukking gosh do I love Negidrill. Faveshipping fukking rules. I love these two and I've written a couple of journal entries already about how much I love them, but after all the tasty/fun stuff I'm getting 'cuz of Negidrill, I'm getting even more worse about them. xD I digress. I was actually supposed to get UTAU Teto plushie today 'cuz I finally caved and wanted to give my cute "Miku with a leek on her head" plush a friend, but of course there's a delay for some reason and I'm getting her tomorrow, I guess? I don't mind waiting but it's kinda annoying getting my hopes up like that (I'll live of course, I know you're working hard). With that said, waking up to this fanart was such a pleasant surprise... I'll never get over it, I swear. xD I think some people get used to receiving things and start to take it for granted or something if it happens a lot, but I'm not sure if I can be like that: I know you took time out of your day, however much, to draw this (for me???) and I'm incredibly grateful. It's such a lovely piece of art and I'm gonna seriously yap about all the things I love about it right now, but just the act itself is incredibly sweet and touching lol. I actually don't like being too visible sometimes around certain people, especially if I really like their stuff, 'cuz I don't want to put pressure on them or accidentally give them expectations that I can't meet, but when it comes to me, I treat everything like a one-time thing. xD The first time I received fanart about this AU, I was ecstatic, and I'll feel that every time, 'cuz I literally don't expect it. xD I still don't, even though I'm fired up to give these two versions of Miku and Teto more love, but thank you so much, really. xD That's all I'll say about me now I think.

Now onto this fanart.... Agghhh.... This isn't gonna be an art analysis or anything (even though I do notice lots of things; if there was a competition for how long you can stare at a piece of art [all day], I'm pretty sure I'd win it) but yeah, I'm just gonna talk nonstop about the things I like. 🥰

TETOOOOOOOOOOO

Hhhgnnhhh , I called her creature-coded earlier but now it feels like she's dragon-coded here...... Which is an incredibly GOOD thing because I'm such a big fan of dragons, like "falls in love with dragons really hard, I might say some weird stuff about them, sorry xD (all clean ofc)", so that's just so freaking cool. My desire to befriend and be around dragons aside, there is nothing I don't love about this drawing of Teto. Honestly, the single horn is a great idea and has really grown on me (I stare at the other fanart often because it's literally on my desk and it's only been like 2 weeks I think lmao), so yeah... In my own drawings of Teto, I wasn't going to include a horn or anything, but this is seriously yummy... I'll draw this version of Teto too, for sure.... I think it's cool; I'm probably not gonna bring up the horn or make references to it in the fic so it's left up to interpretation (just the way I like it), but with or without horn, she's very very cool. 🥰 Having it makes her distinctive tbh; I don't even think about things like "instantly recognizable" or anything, but look, her silhouette goes so hard lol. I love the sharpness in her appearance in general: the spikes at the tips of her wings and obviously the sharp tail... I feel like you nailed the pinnacle of character design here LOL; her silhouette goes SOO SO hard lmao. 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

In my own personal idea of Teto, I'm fine with giving her the horn on her head when I feel like it, and the sharp ears too, nice! 😊 But (and this is only how I would draw them btw, not at ALL a critique/attack on yours 'cuz yours is freakin' beautiful and just as valid as mine) since Teto folds her wings a lot (in my head) and is a side sleeper and I want her to hug or be hugged by Miku if I can lead into it naturally enough, I don't want Miku to get stabbed by Teto or anything, so I'd probably keep Teto's wings like the art of the first person who made Song fanart. c: They're hard and cool and I love all spikiness in her design A LOT for real because I think it's incredible gap moe because she's like one of those "prickly but secretly a big softie" types tbh but yeah~. The horn on her head is fine and not a hazard (I especially notice you make her slightly taller than Miku which is NICE, I guess being bigger would benefit her ability to carry Miku in her arms c:) but the wings are always subject to change (for me). c: I love your drawing a lot though for real and there's obviously nothing stopping them from frontal hugs or anything, but when it comes to the "spikiness/danger" of Teto's design/appearance, it's fun thinking about what I vibe with~ (basically all of it ❤).

In my excitement, a lot of thoughts and words are jumbling together now and I'll start saying things out of order before I even introduce them, lol, but we're still talking about Teto here.

Her wings: I've actually been going through a lot of Teto art and when people draw chimera Teto, I've been comparing and contrasting the different ways people color the inside of her wings!! Like this or this or making the wings all black like an actual bat. My words are never canon to the actual story unless I say they are (everything that's canon is in the written text only) so I'm glad I leave things up to interpretation, but gosh, I just wanted to say I've been deliberating over all the ways to color Teto's wings and I'm not freaking sure yet which one to go with wwww. I guess I just need to experiment with it once I carve a chunk of time out and sit and play with colors, but since we're talking about Teto, I wanted to bring up how much I think about her lmao. I like whatever's cool, so I'm leaning towards a pinkish-red, but I also like all-black like the night, so LOL. Indecision, indecision (and not canon anyway, whichever I pick, so it's fine).

The wing hug thing going on in this pic.... How she's draping her wing over Miku.... First of all, that's fukking adorable lmao; I don't see rain I believe so she's just casually standing next to Miku and seemingly doing the equivalent of (trying to) put an arm around her... That's adorable. I need to talk about this because while planning on what to write for "Rain" (the sequel), I also briefly considered having Teto cover Miku with her wings (like an umbrella) 'cuz it's raining, duh, but ya know, then I decided to go all drastic and have Teto absent when it starts raining so by the time she returns, Miku's already being heavily rained on and Teto returned with an umbrella 'cuz she's smart like that. I just wanted to say I had the idea of her covering/putting her wing over Miku too so it's so wonderful that you drew this. 🥰🥰🥰🥰 Teto's wings are fukken cool and I want her to utilize them to their fullest potential; she usually achieves this by flying and being sick in the air but I fukken love wing hugs too for real, I always have, so gosh... Based.

Let's talk about her tail next. 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 As I've mentioned before (I swear I did), Teto's tail is one of my favorite parts of her, besides her face and her wings and the rest of her body ofc, and I thoroughly enjoy seeing her tail swishing back and forth/wagging here. ❤♥❤🥰🥰🥰❤❤🥰🥰❤♥ It's so fukken cute. I've reached the point where my ideas outnumber my ability to produce them LOL (reached that point like a month ago tbh), but I actually wanted to create a piece of fanart about THIS Teto and how animal-like she is. I really like animals so I can't resist, I find her SO endearing like this so I apologize about the lowkey furry/scalie business (jk no i dont) but anyway. Continuing with that though, I was gonna compare chimera Teto's many expressions/poses to animals lol. For example, when her tail is wagging, she's very dog-like, like an excited puppy: I would draw her with her tail wagging and next to her would be a drawing/picture of a dog, like a chart. xD

When Teto is surprised/shocked/etc, her tail probably stands on end/straight up or kinda zig-zaggy or something, like a cat with its hackles raised. xD Again, I'd draw Teto in her shocked pose and a cat drawing next to her (imagination/idea) for demonstration. xD

Finally, the last idea I had in this lineup was Teto's wings and owls. xD I think the last emotion might've been like "startled/spooked/alarmed", and her wings would be, like, in a threatening/aggressive pose I think?? xD Like an owl, like this I think. xD

The main takeaway is her entire body is very expressive and she's very animal-like. She's very chimera-like too 'cuz she's imitating/behaving like all these animals, but heeh, yeahh. I jokingly call myself a furry even though I'm more of an animal ears/tail connoisseur instead, and I've had a friend get legit weirded out by how I was talking about cat scents in relation to my anime girl cat AUs lol (it's an AU and they're cats, this is tame and par for the course omg xD 😭), but well, all you have to take away from all this is I think she's cute. She's really cute. This is super cute to me. I wanna pick her up and gently shake her in the air lmao. So cute.

Anyway, the tail wagging thing is adorable and absolutely a thing and I love that you kept that and added that. In fact, even in the first fanart you made, I felt a lot of love over the fact that that seems to be the moment where Teto's lashing her tail in annoyance/anger/frustration/etc., so yeah. I freakin' love her tail, okay?? I guess this is my way of sneaking in my interests and love of animals/cats and applying it to Teto, but that just makes me love her more 'cuz I'm used to writing about/rping cats and I love Teto's expressive tail. I want Miku to pick up Teto's tail and compliment her and be super cute about it. I want Teto to let her do this even though she's secretly embarrassed about it. I want them to be cute togetherrrrr 😭😭😭😭😭

We're just going from one thought to another, but now is a good time to mention that I have an idea for how to start the next part (not how to end it though, lmfao, I never know how to end it until I get there), and I took a stab at writing it once. Will probably rewrite it to make it better since I don't have much down, but I've got some really nice things in mind that I'm genuinely excited to write about, and I wanted to add that I was also thinking about how much of Teto's backstory to reveal and what her backstory actually is. Things like "VIPPER" and "VIPPERloid" came to mind, if you're curious about what exactly was going through my mind lol. As of the time I'm writing this, I think I'm hesitant to talk too much about Teto's past because, to be frank, I'm not sure what I want to make concrete and what I don't. xD I've got ideas, but I don't want them to stamp out other, better ideas, and the focus of the fic is more about Mikuteto in the present, so while I was seriously thinking about the prominence and implications of chimeras in this world, I probably won't be dumping a lot of lore 'cuz the imagination is honestly better, in my mind. I created my fic for gay reasons, not to create a social commentary/actual think piece about the world and humanity, so I will admit one thing... In the first fic, in the scene where Teto's talking about how all of humanity died, I feel like it's a bit on-the-nose and even political (even though it shouldn't be lmfao), so I do actually wince slightly thinking it's a bit too forced/may or may not be out of place in a fic where I mainly want the two characters to get together and be happy, but yeah. It's not like I regret adding that part, nor do I want to change it, but it almost feels like I'm revealing too much what I think, when that's not my main focus or goal. There's a bunch of symbolism that I won't talk about because that part, I won't directly tell the reader besides the basic theme: the analogies and comparisons and all that, the reader can have fun identifying (if they want to)! c: But yeah-- concluding this whole paragraph, the stuff about Teto's backstory again feels forced and makes me frown slightly 'cuz I dunno if I really wanna put it in there. The focus is more on the present rather than talking too much about the past and how we got here, so it's not like I'll avoid Teto's past completely (if she even has a concrete one I decide on and set in stone), but besides the basics, I probably won't go into it much. Gosh, it's impossible for me to write a medium-length post about Ngdrll I guess, but I wanted to talk about it since I don't say it anywhere else and I love these two dearly. I'm thinking all kinds of things about them at all times, and every time someone shows passing interest, I release bits of that into the public in case someone wants to read it and read more. xD

Ok, I'm done talking about Teto I think. Both Teto and Miku are the stars of the show, but Teto especially has a distinctive appearance that changes for each person, so I immediately get giddy about that and compare notes lol. Obviously 100% praise and adoration for depicting your own version of her and showing that to me. I love her. She's incredibly cool. Don't get mad at me for saying this but she's really conventionally attractive (hot) too lmfao. Especially next to Miku. I like couples that look aesthetically pleasing together (I love visuals ok), but I really do enter fangirl mode when I see the characters depicted in such cool and nice ways.

Teto is adorable in this piece because this piece honestly perfectly encapsulates and represents what their relationship is at the moment, which is Teto trying to be cool/nonchalant but also trying to bridge the gap with Miku, but she doesn't know how to deal with her honestly so I wonder if she's, like, testing the waters here lmao. She's not even touching Miku, just covering her with a wing for some reason and there's no rain from what I can see and Miku is fine without being protected from some wind, so isn't this just Teto trying to get closer to her? xD The fact that she's standing so close when there's like literally so much open space surrounding them-- that's hilarious. xD You can't play that off. wwwww I know what you are

The tail movement too is absolutely cute 'cuz I loove that Teto expresses her emotions and excitement through her tail and you can bet it's gonna give her away a lot. Miku doesn't know how to read Teto's tail yet but Miku is literally a robot and will create a mini internal dictionary/classification system for Teto's different tail poses so Teto is doing herself no favors by being so transparent with her tail. Miku's not gonna figure her out immediately, ofc, it'll take time to build up, but I'm amused by the idea of Teto herself not even knowing what her own tail movements mean and Miku just casually pointing them out.

"What are you worried about right now?"

"What?"

"Your tail. It's indicating that you're worried about something."

"Wha... Huh...? You got that just from my tail??" What else do you know about me from my tail... (sweats)

Anyway. Fukking damn it. I can't stop writing when I get excited. Now you know how much brainrot I have for these two (this isn't even all of it; I'm not even freaking done, augghhh, Teto plushie get here already so I can work while you monitor me and force me to stay on task), but yeah, in regards to Teto, my current idea of her is that she's like the guarded, cool, gruff, sharp, prickly, detached type. You can especially tell how cool/tough/sharp she is from her appearance (hard black wings, sharp ears and horn if you're looking at Slyvasta's drawing, probably more of a narrowed eyes expression and wearing some kind of frown or indifferent look). With that said though, she's still playful (makes jokes, can laugh, teased Miku twice but had her jokes fail to land both times 'cuz Miku is oblivious lol, etc.). She's basically the nice, playful, mischievous Teto but she got a lot more guarded/negative/gloomy/depressed after the "apocalypse" happened, so... It's just cute to see how Miku brings out more of the original, happy Teto. And I love the gap moe of Teto being really attached to Miku but trying not to act like it 'cuz she has all kinds of doubts and worries and obviously doesn't wanna scare Miku away or be too vulnerable and regret it or anything. Augh, let's summarize.

Teto is cute. The way you drew Teto is cute. I felt a lot of the cuteness from looking at her. Incredible. She's adorable and I need someone to love her. She needs to be loved lmao. All of the cuteness is just oozing out. I can't be normal about her 'cuz I love her, but the cuter she is, the more abnormal I get about her. I'm in fangirl mode so please forgive me. wwww There's a reason I'm not going around linking to this in my fic, 'cuz while hopefully you see my passion for these two in my writing, you don't need to know just how deep it goes unless you're particularly curious. I'm just really fond of them and find them cute, okay? I'll check the word count of this after I'm done getting all of this out of my system. Sorry for being in love with them I guess lmfao.

This isn't a "Teto only" post. Miku is obviously cute as well! And I love her! And I definitely notice the android-like parts of her body in the drawing. c: Seeing how people interpret Miku is nice too, of course~. ♥ Naturally I love the absolutely cheery expression on her face. ❤🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 Clearly she doesn't mind Teto's close proximity to her because they're Best Buds™ but this is getting me down a certain train of thought that I really love, hahahaha. xD But I love the idea of Miku just being absolutely dense asf in the fic, which is both relieving and not for Teto. xD I'm not sure if Teto is romantically competent enough to know how to even "make a move" on a robot (a robot, LOL, I've been thinking so much about it LOOL), but besides Miku obviously being Teto's light in an otherwise dark and dreary/hopeless world, Miku is already characterized as the type to not understand something unless she experiences it directly (sarcasm, songs, the weight of death, the strong impact of her own words, etc.), so even though I said "Miku will most likely lead all of the romantic development", Miku will most likely be doing it without even realizing it??? LOOL.

In other words, Miku (in this fic and also I like this interpretation in general) pulls Teto along in a way that I find absolutely moe (endearing). Now that I think about it, I think I need to give Teto an existential crisis over the idea that she's fallen in love with a robot (literal machine), but we can also turn that into a beautiful analogy about falling in love with "fake" (fictional) characters/things in general, so you may be able to imagine why this AU is near and dear to my heart.

ANYHOW, in the context of this pic, I think it's funny if Miku doesn't even notice Teto's wing and is just "no thoughts head empty"-ing about the music coming from the Walkman in her hands. xD Speaking of the Walkman that's appeared more than once now, I will now give you the exact model (the video that I watched while I was writing this part of the story) in case you want to see it, but obviously and like I said, I adore interpretation, so you can imagine it any way you want. The same way the music box depicted in the first fanart I received, it was actually bigger than I expected (I love it though, don't get me wrong ❤) and I can show you the exact model of that too, but I'll do it when I get more time to make fanart, okay~? After I finish writing long ass posts like this. I write most of this for myself too tbh because even though this is all stored in my head, it might be forgotten, so now I can just look at my posts and be like, "Oh yeah, I had this in mind and already talked about this" lol.

Tldr to all of that is even though Miku likes Teto very much for obvious reasons (helped her, is her friend, is her only friend, lmao), I love the idea that she's completely unaware of Teto's feelings towards her 'cuz it's very very likely that's 100% true. xD I'm not sure if Teto even wants to catch feelings? xD So the likelihood of Teto being at the "They just killed themself 40 times in their head at the idea of being in love" part of the "Worst Ship Chart Ever" is not at 0, hahahaha.

What can I say. I need to psychoanalyze these two to oblivion. I need 80-90k words of more pining and slowburn before I'm satisfied. It will take a long time but that's what I need to do to be satisfied. xD I can't be fast about this. wwww. But I'm happy I got another chance to talk about it lol; I'm still a fandom/art account and fanfiction counts as art, but this is NOT a text (only) blog, so I'm still trying to make more visual art/drawings. xD So that's why I don't go wild with lore dumps like "btw, I had another thought about these two in the AU, listen to me" lol. It needs to be triggered like a key or I just keep it all in my journal forever. xD Ugh, this got long again...

Final thing before I shut up now. xD Another fun/amusing thing happened and it's related to Miku, so maybe I can balance the Teto fangirling a little by talking more about Miku.

Miku loves songs and loves to sing them, so while I wasn't gonna turn this into a songfic and start adding songs to every chapter/fic, I did think a lot about what songs she might sing, of course. And I've been thinking for a long time that "On Melancholy Hill" by Gorillaz is SO Mikuteto coded (in this AU).

Video attached so you can listen as you keep reading. [By the way, I stared at the fanart I received today while playing this song on repeat, 'cuz that's how on-point it is lol. I was immersing myself in the world completely. This song is good, ok]

The most relevant lyrics, besides the entire video, start at 1:00:

"Well, you can't get what you want / But you can get me

So let's set out to sea, love

'Cause you are my medicine when you're close to me

When you're close to me"

I hope I don't have to spell out why these lyrics are spot-on for my fic, but I was even thinking of drawing a comic (or animatic) of Miku singing these exact lyrics. With different camera angles and panels and Teto watching (The Watcher lmao) and so on. Miku would be standing on a pile/hill of trash and happily singing to the world (with her hand outstretched like the idol she is) and Teto would be near/behind/around her somewhere, just watching and feeling happy 'cuz Miku is such a good singer and everything Miku does is wonderful and the song is really sweet too.

WELL GUESS WHAT

APPARENTLY A MIKU VERSION ACTUALLY EXISTS. LMAO

I was immensely amused when I found out. It's not like I'm picking niche songs or anything, a Miku and Luka version of "Boats and Birds" exists too so so far, every song I've chosen, someone actually made (things like Melt are famous though, I hope you know about Melt's lore lol) so yeah... Even this song, which I thought was so "them-coded" legitimately has a Miku cover....

It's a really great cover~. It's actually not what I had in mind 'cuz it's a bit too remixed (as an obvious remix lol) with reverb and effects and stuff ("my" Miku mostly sings without instrumental accompaniment and her voice alone is the melody), but it's really cool that this exists!! ❤

"On Melancholy Hill" sounds so dang good and I wanted to point to the instrumental:

I listened to this a lot today on loop (I listened to it the whole time I was writing this too, lol, to remind me to make the points about it), but I feel like the Mikuteto-ness of this song especially shows in the instrumental... In particular, when you start, I like to think Miku is like/represented by the xylophone-like sounds in this song. They start at 0:40 and I really like them in this song: they're gentle and sweet like she is and it helps really explain how she's like the balm to all of the world's (and Teto's) hurt lol.

Speaking of Miku's "influence/representation" in this song, which I think is very "this fic-coded", I'm trying not to be mean or sadistic or anything, but I keep feeling like the easiest and fastest way to progress things is to just keep having things happen to Miku fhshdlkfsdf

The fear of losing someone is an impediment to romance, actually, in my opinion, 'cuz you're motivated by fear instead of love, so I'm not actually gonna go through with hurting Miku (I would never hurt this sweet summer child lol), but I hope you get what I mean lol. "Miku got injured and now Teto must fix her" and "Miku is experiencing difficulties and Teto must help her", etc. etc. I don't want to turn this fic into a formula like that, but the reason it's the easiest way to progress things is 'cuz Miku essentially has Teto in the palm of her hand/wrapped around her finger so 🤷‍♀️. In my eyes, if you want significant stuff to happen, just do stuff to her Miku, lmao. The reason I bring this up in the song is 'cuz that "xylophone sound" doesn't appear throughout it and if you REALLY want to make this the soundtrack of the fic, that implies Miku is missing or something. xD Are we really gonna go the WALL-E route and have something happen to Miku for real? Pls. xD (I'm thinking about it, but in case no one's picked it up, my fic is also WALL-E inspired. I rewatched WALL-E recently after receiving fanart of my fic again probably because that movie is art.)

Negidrill/Mikuteto is so beautiful and I'm really happy if people like what I'm making of them lol. The reason I'm also additionally really flattered is 'cuz I really don't see myself as above any other Negidrill fan, so I know our space is small, but I think other people should get fanart too 'cuz their stuff rocks. (All the Mesmerizer stuff has been fun; did you know I've become a REAL Mesmerizer fan too lately? It was after I got into this ship, so the order is different from a lot of newer fans, but I even changed my discord pfp to Mesmerizer Miku 'cuz it's August and Miku's birthday month, so I'm really a real Mesmerizer fan now. xD Hoping to make my Mesmerizer fanart contributions sometime soon, even if all the hype dies down. xD)

ANYWAY, the way I'm writing is way too unorganized lmao, but basically, this "End of the World" AU really did come to me on a whim, so I'm absolutely BLOWN AWAY by the idea that I've received 3 drawings for it so far. 😭😭😭😭 It's not like I need more to continue or anything, and if people want to use it as a way to bribe me to write, it's absolutely working, but I find it incredibly flattering because while I love my own fic/idea for obvious reasons, I'm really surprised by the idea of other people liking it as much as me. xD I have my own personal reasons for liking what I made, besides the obvious "I made that !! Yeah!!!" feelings, but I wonder what other people are thinking... I'm really happy when you share your thoughts with me, and I'm really happy x2 when they're positive!

My writing style isn't particularly fancy or anything (to me, it feels a bit plain, even though I try to aim for a certain cadence when writing and enjoy it myself), but I like to think I'm not so bad at coming up with ideas, and I gotta say, I came up with one lately that made me really excited!!!

The good news is that it's really cute and fluffy (imo), it's legit yuri (not the yuribait stuff-- real yuri lol), and it's awesome, whether it's written or it's drawn... I want to do both........

The bad news is because it's like a "level 3" action on the romance scale (level 1 being the tame stuff like handholding, level 2 being hugging maybe, and level 3 being any kind of kissing), it's way WAY too soon to introduce a scene like that wwww. Dammit. But I want to see it. But I also want to lead up to it. But I don't want to spoil it. But I still want to see it already, hahahahaha. xD

Okay, on the level of yuribait, I guess it's like half yuribait 'cuz this is dense android Miku we're talking about, but it's a scene that I like very much 'cuz I love lesbians lmao. Don't get your hopes up or anything and think I'm finally gonna add grandiose romantic gestures in like "chapter 3" (the third fic), but the reason I'm saying this is if you're waiting on me, I'm definitely cooking? Lol. It will take time, but I'll do my best to get there. I really don't want to burn out and have to step away, but given everything I've already written so far, I think that's a clear indicator that rather than burning out, I need an outlet for this and the main thing stopping me is adult responsibilities lol. On the bright side as an adult, I feel like I can write fics that really delve into my own idea of love, since I'm a sucker for Mktt being my ideal and all that. xD

Okay, yeah. That's all I have to yap about today. I love this drawing so much. Thank you so much; it's so beautiful lmao. I'm very moved when beautiful things are created. Negidrill is SO fucking GOOD, wrryyyyyyyy !!!!

I'm not gonna turn things weird or anything, I've been a fangirl of my own ideas for a while now and that's why I wrote as many words as I did, but at the end of the day, it's hard for me to tell if someone is on the same wavelength as me when it comes to my love for the ship lol. Like, do you think they look cute together or do you think they would live and die for each other respectively 100 times, be honest with me wwwww (talks about what a healthy relationship are aside).

I'm doing this for myself, so I really don't need fanart or anything to continue, but I'm really really happy and grateful that I got some! Thank you for real! Please continue making Mktt that you like, and honestly, I want to remove myself from the equation as much as possible. xD I want to focus on the greatness that is this ship and all my ideas for them, so even if the execution is unique to me, my main focus is that I love these two and want to show it.

I super respect fans who show off their love and help sail the ship lol. I hope you keep it up and I hope we can all eat lots and lots. xD 😋

Ugh. I love these two.

One last thing. Another song that fits this fic is "As It Was" by Harry Styles. I like the lyrics, ok 😭