#the bat brothers love their aunties
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z0ned0utish · 1 year ago
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You can't tell me that Harley and Ivy aren't the 'fun aunts' when they visit the bat boys.
Like Harley brings the boys sweet all the time and Ivy shows the boys how to look after their plants.
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Bonus:
Harley would sneak the bat brothers sweets when they were Robin without Batman knowing.
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hadesoftheladies · 1 year ago
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im genuinely fatigued by male heroism in literature. no i do not want a "girl-coded" villain with floppy dark hair, i want an interesting FEMALE CHARACTER GOODDDAAMMNITTTT.
I want to see an eldest daughter fighting for her family's honor. I want to see a girl facing a moral dilemma prematurely, abandoned and decieved by everyone she trusted. I want to see her revolt at the betrayal of her superiors. I want a mother to see what a monster her child has become. becoming a fugitive from her own spawn. I want to see an old woman watch those she loves die because they did not heed her warnings. I want to see old prophetesses outsmart authorities and fight to stop the inevitable. i want a bunch of sisters braving the wild because they are the only hope of a small town. a pathetic heroine who only survives because of luck and charm. young girls with strong limbs because they're used to working in factories and farms, who can run far and leap over fallen trees. who can bat a ball and scale a wall. i want girl gangs, where teenage girls get up to no good until the consequences catch up to them, or not. i want socially awkward queens who lean on the advice of aunty-like advisors, be they witches or muggle. i want to see an older sister be betrayed by the brother she raised and it climaxes in a duel. i want to see the reverse, where the brother she raised becomes her second-in-command, strong and wise because of her and wouldn't betray her for the world. i want genius little girls that are kept in secret towers because of their prophetic dreams. who terrify kings because of their intellect. i want female spies and soldiers who are stupid and devoted. i want an arrogant heroine who gets caught up in a plot bigger than she can handle. a kind girl who inevitably breaks the world and destroys everything. i want her to be destined for doom and glory. I WANT HER TO SELF-DESTRUCT IN THE FACE OF HER OWN POWER. I WANT HER DREAMS AND HOPES FOR THE FUTURE TO INSPIRE A NATION TO CHANGE, ONLY FOR HER TO LEARN THE HARD TRUTH OF THE COST OF TRANSFORMATION. I WANT HER TO WRESTLE WITH THE ISOLATION THAT COMES FROM GREATNESS. TO DESIRE LOVE AND BE TOO SHREWD TO FALL FOR IT.
I AM SO FUCKING TIRED OF BOY ANGST YOU WILL NEVER BE AS DEEP, COMPLEX OR NUANCED AS A GIRL YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND THE HORRORS YOU'RE JUST A PARODY OF WOMEN'S LIVES GET OUT
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daisyblog · 3 months ago
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Cousin Love
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Our Story Masterlist Summary: Freddie meets Grace.
Based on this request.
With Freddie living in America with his Mum majority of the year, YN and Harry would try to fly out and visit as much as they could. But having a newborn and trying to find their path in parenthood, meant it wasn’t that easy to go and see their nephew as often.
They would love for Freddie to meet Grace, as FaceTime just wasn’t enough. But with Louis’ work schedule, it wasn’t possible. So YN accepted that weekly FaceTimes would have to do until they could fly out to the US.
The Styles family were having a quiet morning, allowing the time to slip by as they ate breakfast together, drank cups of tea and coffee, and importantly had lots of cuddles on the sofa.
The buzzer to the outside gate, caught their ears as they wondered who unexpectedly was dropping byHarry was surprised when he saw Louis’ face on the camera, not realising he was back in London.
“It’s Louis!” Harry called to YN letting her know her brother was here.
“Oh! It’s Uncle Louis”. Grace lovingly stared up at her mother, taking in everything she was saying.
Harry pressed the button to allow Louis in. Then opened the front door to wait for his arrival. But the sound of two voices, and a particular American accent caught his ears. Before he could ask any questions, Freddie ran towards him.
“Uncle Harry!”. He was quick to scoop the younger boy up into his arms and squeezing him tight to his chest.
“I’ve missed you little man!”. Freddie wrapped his arms around Harry’s shoulders, still hugging him tight. “But I know someone who’s missed you more”.
“Auntie YN!”.
Harry led Louis and Freddie to where YN and Grace were in the large cosy living area. “Auntie YN…guess who I’ve found!”.
YN’s eyes almost popped out at the sight of her oldest nephew in her husbands arms. She jumped up from her place and opened her arms wide for him. “Freddie!”.
Freddie ran towards her and almost tackled her as he wrapped his arms around her, YN’s arms doing the same. “I’ve missed you Auntie YN!”.
“Not as much as I’ve missed you my boy!”. She didn’t want to let go but there was someone else who YN wanted Freddie to meet. Grace was laying on a large Playmat, small toys surrounding her. “Freddie this is little Grace…and Grace this is your big cousin Freddie”.
Louis watched as he sat on the sofa, his son gently holding onto Grace’s hand as he softly spoke to her. Picking up some of the toys around her to play with her. Trying his best to make her smile as he made silly faces.
“Why does she look like you?”. Freddie asked YN who was still sat next to him. Harry let out a chuckle at the question, something they get told regularly is that Grace is the image of YN.
“The same reason you look like your Dad”. YN explained, as she glanced at Louis. “The Tomlinson genes are just too strong”.
“You can say that again”. Harry sent YN a cheeky smirk.
Freddie had spent most of the morning by Grace’s side, knowing he may not see her for a while again. He was laid to down next to her on the large blanket, his little finger rubbing down her nose gently as her eyes grew tired.
Harry had gone to the kitchen to prepare them all lunch. But YN was now sat next to Louis as he swung his arm around her shoulder for a sibling cuddle. They watched their babies together, watching in awe at how loving and gentle Freddie was being with Grace.
“Why do I feel like we’re having a glimpse of what we were like as kids?”. YN asked as her eyes saw Freddie gently place a small blanket back over Grace who had kicked it off.
Louis smiled finding the loving moment between the cousins sweet. “Because you are…I literally adored you as a baby…well I still do, you’re just a bit more annoying now”. Louis teased.
“Hey!”.
“I’m joking…I can’t wait to see all our kids grow up together like we did”. Louis smiled.
“Family full of love!”.
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chaosandmarigolds · 3 months ago
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Coco!! Stop talking about old-
I LOVE HIM
Anyway..
Sorry but John Price, who is undoubtedly the most father coded person, would also be the coolest uncle ever to your nieces and nephews
It would be just a normal dinner with your sisters family, you going on the late summer night with your fiancé. Course you were ready for the ‘isn’t he like…dads age?’ From your sister and a few off the handle remarks from your brother in law, even the kids- Nora, 8, and Coby, 5 - would find a way to a remark. Of that you would have no doubt
And unsurprisingly the air was a bit tense right off the bat, John would press a kiss to the top of your head before Adam would whisk him away to the grill outback
You would get a few smart words from you sister as you helped her set the table
‘He’s really nice, Joan.’ Your words would fail on deaf ears.
‘Course he’s nice! He grew up in the fifties.’
…‘80’s.’
‘THATS BETTER HOW???’
Meanwhile Adam would be making small talk about military things he knew nothing about, and John would nod and smile, correcting him only if he said something utterly absurd
Nora would come over with her ball, trying to get Adam to play and he would said he couldn’t after all he’s talking to ‘Uncle John’
So she would turn to John-
“Wanna play?”
“What’s the game?”
“…run away from Coby and don’t let him have the ball.” Nora replied with a little shrug.
John looks to Adam and then back to the little girl, only to then see Coby right behind her- who promptly snatched the red plastic ball and took off running across the yard.
To that the little girl gasps and looks back up at John, figuring it a loss cause before taking off after her little brother.
‘Adam!’ You open the sliding door to step onto the patio, eyes narrowing against the summer sun and you look to him, “Joan said she’s ready-where’s John?”
Adam gave you a look, “Playing fortress with the kids.”
After wandering around for a few minutes you found the treehouse a few hundred feet away and you find him hoisting the five year old into the dumbwaiter-esk lift, Nora in the little cabin peering out the window.
“You gotta-uncle John you gotta make me go SUUUUPER high.”
“Super high? Can’t think I can lad, but I’ll get ya up to your sister.”
You watch for a minute, fully aware John knew you were there, before speaking, “Dinners ready.”
“NOOOO.”
“Auntie-Auntie can you,” Nora says from her spot, “Can you tell my mom later?”
“Aw, Nor,” you say as you catch the little boy as he jumps down from the ledge, “Your mom wants everyone to come eat.”
“But-but I’m playing.”
“Nora-“
“Lassie cmon down, we’ll finish up after yeah?” John would call out from the bottom of the ladder and somehow the stubborn little girl would relent, climbing down before happily being carried via piggy back.
All in all, for the few remarks your sister made during dinner and then the small talk that followed you would consider that a win.
Until weekend babysitting became a thing because Nora and Cody wouldn’t accept anyone else.
“We might as just have have kids, save us time on driving.” You laugh to your joke after you drop the two kids off back home. However after the long moment of silence you look to him.
“We could.”
“Yeah…yeah we could.”
“Mm, we should.”
“Agreed.”
(….idk yall I’m just yapping. Anyyyyway lemme know if you want more John price stuff)
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thekitsunesiren · 1 year ago
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hello mind if I drop off a prompt?
Damian let's his family know he is going to hang out with a friend.
a bat bugs Damian to find him hanging out with one Danni Fenton.
adult Danny/Sam/Tucker parenting a 12 year old Danni.
The trio earn Auntie/Uncle/Uncle privileges from Damian.
Oh, this will be fun!
Okay, first things first would be the absolute disbelief from the batfam from Damian's announcement. Because Damian. Damian "Demon Brat" Wayne, had a friend. A friend that they didn't have the knowledge of knowing until just then.
With Damian springing it on them, they didn't have the time to ask any important questions, let alone do a background check on the kid and their family.
From what Damian told them, the kid they were meeting was named Danielle, but she preferred to be called Ellie. She and her parents had moved to Gotham not too long ago. He met her on a pure coincidence. And of course, with how paranoid the Batfam was, that didn't settle well for them. The parents could've sent their child to get close to the Wayne family for the money. Or kidnap Damian!
Tim walked up to Damian and ruffled his hair while teasing the younger Wayne about how he finally made a friend that wasn't an animal. With a scoff and a swat as a way to get rid of the opposing limb, Damian turned and left the manor while slamming the door behind him.
As soon as it closed, Tim raced back to where he left his computer. There was no way he wasn't going to let his little brother go anywhere unknown without at least two trackers on him. And with how the others quickly scrambled behind him to get a look on his computer, the others had the same thought.
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Damian, however, was excited to visit Dani and her family.
The two had met when he was leaving school and waiting for Alfred to pick him up. And she wasn't that far from him, standing near the road waiting for someone to pick her up as well. At first glance, she looks like she could be someone adopted by father. Black hair tied to a ponytail and shockingly bright blue eyes. Immediately, he saw her as someone that his father would try to adopt just off of appearance alone. With her seeming to be around his age, he could claim that he could have a sibling to interact with more.
Of course, it wasn't long before the stranger took notice of his staring and turned to look him dead on. Her eyes meeting his in a serious stare down where neither of them moved.
When Damian made the move to speak, a car pulled up in front of the girl. The passenger side window rolling down and someone talking to the girl. She responded in turn before opening the passenger side door and getting in. Damian could only stand and watch as the car soon pulled away from the school and drive away into the distance. Not long afterwards, Alfred arrived to pick him up and he rode in silence on the way home while contemplating the other student that he met.
Okay! Here's how I feel like it would go down with their so called meeting out of the way.
Damian would see Dani and would immediately assume that she would be some sort of clone of either his father or one of the other bats. Was she sent to his school to watch and observe him? Did she know who his alter ego was?
After that, he would be watching her every move during class, surprising himself to find out that she was even in a few of his classes. Suspicious.
Does he approach her? No, because that would put too much on him and probably give her the opening she was expecting. He was ten steps ahead of her in every way!
Day after day, he watches and takes note of everything that she does, trying to notice any oddities in her behavior. Or any sign that she was spying on him.
While she didn't seem to be spying on him directly, Damian did notice her personality of being strong willed, stubborn and having a love for puns. Hm, a clone of the Robins maybe instead of Batman?
Dani, on the other hand, is wondering why the young Wayne seemed to be following her from a distance ever since they've seen each other that day on the end of school. From what Danny told her, it was the older Wayne's that she was supposed to avoid in case she was forcefully kidnapped, though it seemed that the younger Wayne was just as bad as the older ones.
How did Dani end up going to Damian's school, you ask? Well, it was simple:
Not long after Danny defeated Pariah Dark and took up the mantel as the next King of the Infinite Realms, Dani had returned from her travels around the world and decided to spend a bit of time with Danny as things calmed down. Maybe even get to know the others a bit better, seeing as she was never properly introduced to them.
She found out that he was dating both Sam and Tucker. Had been for a while now. Huh, go figure. And during that time of dating, she had arrived to catch up and spend a bit more time of all of them. Maybe even try to find a good reason to stay in Amity for a bit longer (even though she really loved to travel).
But not too long after that, a reveal gone wrong left Dani standing in a room with a frantic Sam packing up everything she owned while Jazz treated a barely conscious Danny's wound on his side. A gunshot wound that was from his parents no doubt.
One rushed explanation from Jazz about how the reveal went wrong, and how they had to leave Amity Park. Now.
With a quick meet up with Tucker, the five of them were huddled in a car and pedaling out of Amity as fast as they could. Dani staying in the back seat with Jazz to watch over Danny and make sure that he didn't pass out again on their way to-wherever it was they were going. Her core wouldn't allow it.
The clone didn't know how far they've been driving and for how long, but she knew that they were out of Amity and that was all that mattered. But the question bouncing around her head was: what happens now?
And the answer was to drive all the way called Gotham city and lay low for a while. Thankfully, a lot of the buildings were no questions asked. So when they find a place that could fit all of them (small and cramped as it was) while planning on what to do now. Of course Sam, Tucker, and Jazz all pretty much up and left without much except for some spare clothes and their ghost hunting gear (and a credit card Sam managed to snag from her mom's purse. Her own card didn't have as much on it.). But Danny was out of there and they were safe from both the Fentons and the GIW. For now.
Now, several weeks have passed. Jazz had managed to find a job to help with the money, while Sam and Tucker were both on the way as well. Which left Dani pretty much alone in the apartment with a slowly healing Danny. And while he was healing, he was kept on house arrest, much to his ire. Though he did help out with the cooking and other house chores while the others were out doing their own thing. And if the two of them occasionally floating outside their apartment during the night, who would tell on them?
When about two months passed, the older teens realized that Gotham would be their permanent home until further notice, so it would only be right that they allow Dani some time to get out as well.
So, they enroll her to school! Gotham U no less (Thank you, Tucker). Sure it was a bit stuffy for their tastes (mostly Sam's), but they were sure that Dani would fit in fine! What's the worst that could happen?
Unfortunately, Dani was a clone of Danny, so she was off to a bit of a rough start. And she hadn't really interacted with someone of her (supposed) age before, so it was all plenty new for her. So she really didn't know where to start.
It wasn't until she went to class that she met a kid in the back row facing the window, who looked like he didn't want to be in this class either. And during attendance she learned that his name was Damian Wayne. Odd, wasn't that the name of that rich family that Sam talked (more like complained) about? Oh well, coincidence maybe.
Throughout the entire day, Dani would notice that if they had the same class, he would be looking in her direction for moments at a time.
It was about the last class of the day when Dani pieced together as to why he could be doing that.
Oh..
He was shy!
Well, Dani would make sure that wouldn't last long. And maybe he would approach her soon.
So every day, Dani would work on getting to know him better. Even when he would brush her off and try to make her go away. She was as stubborn as Danny for a reason!
When the two finally became friends and Dani told that her new friend invited her to her house and also offered her parents, she forgot on whether or not that was truly the rich Wayne she was supposed to stay away from.
Dani had spoken about her friend plenty of times, and all of her parents seemed to like him.
Danny laughed every time Dani spoke about doing something or possibly pranking Damian, thinking that she was doing good with socialization and that the kid had to enjoy their friendship to some degree.
Sam was a bit more cautious of the friend, asking more of his likes and dislikes. Was he really bullying Dani? Did he say anything mean to her? Did she have to go to the school and fight a kid? All and all, Dani slowly convinced her that Damian was a good kid and she let it be. Telling Sam that Damian was a vegan may or may not have helped.
Tucker was a bit more lenient than the other two. The kid was nice to her? Didn't bully her? He was smart and knew his way around tech? Good
But as they stood in front of Wayne Mansion dressed in their more casual clothes, they all thought that they should've asked more questions about Dani's friend.
(All in all: neither of them have truly interacted with someone their age, your honor.)
Confrontations, miscommunication, and possibly a lot of bonding could come from both sides, and I would love to see it!
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silaslich · 27 days ago
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Change in the currents and tide
John “Soap” Mactavish x f!reader
Summary - John takes you home for the holidays and it only solidifies your nagging feeling that you no longer love Johnny just as a friend.
Wc - 4k
Cw - 18+, smut, fluff, friends to lovers, basically a part 1 to this <<
AN - Christmas and it’s not even December yet? Yes. The answer is yes.
The train rocked steadily, rain pattering against the window as you kept your eyes fixed on the rapid passing by of the auburn countryside outside. It was late December, almost Christmas, the usual dusting of winter snow nowhere to be seen, replaced instead with slushy mud and torrential rain.
You’d slept for most of the journey, only stirring awake when Johnny shook you gently, pushing a hot chocolate and iced bun across the little table in front of you, letting you know you still had about an hour and a half left till you reached Edinburgh.
This was the second year you were going home with Soap, much to his families pleasure, and much to your own gratitude.
The holidays didn’t really feel like the holidays when you were home alone, sitting in your own little bubble of silence, trying to fill the void with Christmas movies and way too many biscuits.
Last year had been an amazing one, Johnny had so many family members; sisters, brothers, aunties, uncles, nieces, nephews, cousins, grandparents. He had it all. His mother and father’s home had barely been able to fit them all in, with the fire lit and the dogs jumping up at visitors, cheesy Christmas music was blasting from the telly and the mulled wine was already flowing.
It had you reeling, watching this big military man squat low with a gleaming smile, cooing at the kids and telling them how big they’d gotten since he’d last seen them. Then they’d run to you, wrapping their little fingers around yours and pulling you away, wanting to show you the rest of the house or show you the drawings they’d made at school.
It made you miss your family, made you miss the faded - distant memories of Christmas when you were little.
His grandparents were sinewy little things, worn with age and hunched at the spine, his grandfather wore glasses that sat at the end of his nose and his grandma had a burgundy embroidered shawl that was hung over her shoulders. You didn’t ask how old they were, thought Johnny wouldn’t tell you the truth anyway, finding it funny that his own grandparents were still standing, “old bats have got plenty of life left in em’ yet lass” he would no doubt say. You knew they’d ask you the same questions they asked last year, “when are you and our John plannin’ on tying the knot, pet?” And “you need to keep the family goin’, lots of little ones running around aye?” They made you chuckle, watching Soap’s face glow a shade of cherry red, scolding his grandparents for thinking such things.
The two of you were just friends, had been for years and would be for many more. It wasn’t that the thought hadn’t crossed your mind, you found yourself staring at him most days, noting the gentleness in his eyes and the sharp slopes of his face, he was a handsome man and a gentleman at that - it’s so lonely when you’re deployed, maybe that’s why your eyes linger and your thoughts wander.
That’s what you tell yourself, it’s just the lifestyle you lead, the loneliness and the desperation to have something to come back to when the time for leave arises.
Sadly, you’d thought too many times about the logistics, about what he’d say or what he’d think, the crushing weight of rejection and awkwardness after the fact keeps your mouth glued shut.
Soap had seen you through thick and thin, having your back when no one else does. You couldn’t jeopardise that for the sake of finding him attractive, he grated on your nerves enough as it was, as funny as the imagery was - you couldn’t stomach the thought of having a Johnny jr. running around at your feet.
-
Your hot chocolate sent a warm tingle to your tummy, making you feel all cosy and mushy as you watched the rain continue to pour outside. Soap was quieter then usual, clearly tired and ready to be home bound. He looked forward to Christmas and seeing everyone, he was even more excited to have you there, dreading you’d decline his offer and hold yourself up at home - all alone.
Much like someone else did; that great big hulking bastard of a man did the same thing year in, year out. Each holiday Ghost would tuck himself away in his safe house in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere, going completely off the radar until it was time to come back to work and get back on the grind again. Each time Soap would try his best to convince his friend to come over, or even offered if he wanted Johnny to keep him company at his place, each time he was shot down with the same thing; “I don’t want to take you away from your family” or “I’ll probably just sleep through the whole thing anyway”. You all knew it was bullshit, but he was a grown man, if he wanted to, he’d come.
The train was passing through Berwick-upon-Tweed, the coast looked rough and unsteady, the waves licking at the cliff edges and crashing in an upward turret of hazy brown and midnight blue. “What are you looking forward to the most about going home?” You asked Soap as you turned toward him, curling your knees towards yourself in your seat and cradling yourself into his side, paper cup of hot chocolate still clutched between your fingers. He shuffled his weight to get comfortable, forcing you to slide closer into him as he propped his arm over your shoulders. He pursed his lip in thought, gaze falling to the view outside, “probably my mam’s cooking” he said, meeting your eye as he looked down, “and maybe seeing the wee ones, if they’re behaving” he added, smiling at the thought of his nieces and nephews. Soap was the youngest of his siblings, the last one of three brothers and two sisters, forever the baby of the family is his mothers eyes.
You nodded, as if in agreement, as if you knew how it felt to miss home cooking and family, none of it was real for you, hadn’t been for years now, but you could try.
He took a swig of his own drink, it smelt like coffee, strong and bitter. “How about you?” He asked gently, squeezing your shoulder with his hand that was draped there. You hadn’t really expected him to ask you, but it didn’t take you long to answer, “I like your mam’s cooking too” you smiled, closing your eyes at just the thought of her cauliflower cheese bake and roast potatoes. “And, I’m excited to see Michael” you smiled wider, looking pointedly at Johnny and loving the way his face scrunched up in grimacing disgust.
Michael was Johnny’s older brother by two years, and probably his least favourite sibling, made even more so after last years debacle. Michael hadn’t left you alone for the entire week you were staying with Johnny, hounding you with weird questions and gluing himself to your side at any given opportunity. He wasn’t an unattractive man looks wise, but his personality let him down, you just loved seeing the way Johnny came to your defence, even after announcing to every single family member that you two were just friends. After the two of you had been deployed again it was the best and quickest way to get on his nerves, the mere mention of Michael’s name had Soap’s hackles up.
“I’ll punch his teeth down his throat if he starts with that shit again” Johnny grumbled, a frown stitching his brow as you laughed at his expense.
The next hour and a bit passed by quickly, leaving the two of you to dart to the nearest taxi rank with luggage in toe once you reached Edinburgh Waverley, trying to avoid the heavy battering of rain as it beat down against the pavement. You sighed as the taxi door slid close, feet wet through your shoes from attempting to dodge the puddles and back wet through from where the rain had slipped down the back of your shirt collar. Soap ruffled his hand through his hair, droplets of water raining down onto the floor of the car, some of them hitting you as you smacked him in the arm, ‘I’m already wet through you prick’ you’d scolded, but he simply laughed, jabbing an icy cold finger into your ribcage.
By the time you and Soap were rounding the steps up to his family home, the door was already flung open, pale amber light illuminated the two of you as it bled into the street from the doorway of the house. You looked up through the wet on your lashes, smiling wildly as you saw the trio of trouble makers, all of them belonging to Johnny’s oldest sister, Edith. She had two girls and a boy; Emma who was 7, Carla who was 5 and Charlie who was 4. They were squealing, little flailing arms waving like proud flags in the wind, Emma was trying her best to slip her shoes on to greet the two of you on the steps. “Woah there wee lady” Soap cooed, taking two steps at a time now to catch the little tyke before she journeyed to meet you in the rain, “you’ll catch yer death out here, get inside” he told her sternly, raising a brow at the young girl as she grinned at him sheepishly. Before long you were joining them, ushering them all inside and dumping your bags in the doorway before you slipped your shoes off.
It was almost as loud as it was Christmas Day itself; it was just yourself, Soap and his sister’s family here so far. His mother was in the kitchen, stirring some kind of stew in a pot as she gave you a kind smile, insisting for you to make yourself at home. Johnny’s father was sat in his armchair in the living room, nursing a tumbler of scotch, the amber liquid sloshing lazily at the sides as the older man jerked it in your direction, welcoming you to his home with a lopsided smile, kind eyes pinching at the sides as his grin widened. Soap’s sister was on you before you even saw her, caging you in as she hugged you tightly, “blimey lass, you’re looking well, something glowing about ye” she was a beautiful women with gleaming teeth and freckled cheeks. Johnny’s family had some damn good genes, you thought.
The night was filled with great food, great laughs and great scotch. After spending half of the night entertaining the kids with Soap by playing hide and seek and then helping them with their spelling as they played hangman, the other half of the night you’d spent with the grown ups. Sitting by the telly as old re-runs of Christmas movies played like white noise in the background while you and Johnny filled his family in on what life was like on the front line.
They didn’t pry into the grim stuff, more trying to make idle conversations to take interest in Johnny’s work life, he was good at getting off the subject, preferring to talk about what was going on round here these days. His sister told you guys all about Emma’s school life, how far ahead she was with her reading age and how clever she was, always doing her homework on time and most of the time all by herself. You cast your eye over to Soap, seeing him grin like a Cheshire Cat as his sister spoke about her kids made you all fuzzy inside, Johnny really loved those kids.
With a belly full of beef stew and good Scottish whiskey you fell asleep almost as soon as your head hit the pillow, but your head began to drift away, pulling you into pleasant dreams filled with your best friend. The same friend sleeping not even an arms length away from you in your shared double bed (he’d insisted to save room for when the rest of the family arrived), if you reached out you’d feel his skin under your palms, the hot flesh and skin and bone of him.
Something had shifted today, watching him play with his nieces and nephews, observing Johnny in his domestic state had dislodged something warm and fuzzy in your chest, something you had tried to swallow down for years now.
You valued your friendship with him, more than anything, but the undeniable and growing attraction was there, and it was only growing the more time you found yourself spending with him. It was suffocating you, everything good about him, even all the bad, you wanted it all.
Something foreign overtook you. Fuelled by the heat of his body so close and the warmth of the whiskey thrumming away in your bloodstream, you rolled onto your back, guiding your hand over your stomach before slipping it under your waistband. You sank your teeth into your bottom lip, stifling any noise that attempted to bubble its way from your chest. Your fingers skimmed between your folds, meeting the slick wetness already gathering there, you threw your head back against the pillow and fought the urge to let the sounds spill.
Your mind swam, imagining it was Johnny’s hand, his fingers teasing you open, ready to curl into you and press into that velvety plush spot deep inside of you. It took everything not to whine, cry his name as you increased the pressure on your clit and moved your wrist in rapid motions.
“Don’t stay quiet on my account, lass”
His voice washes over you like a vat of ice cold water, sloshing and drowning you in dread as your body stills, all movement ceasing as you stare up at the ceiling. The duvet rustles and the mattress dips, your breathing hurries, eyes frantic as you search the darkness for any answer to explain yourself away. Johnny presses two fingers under your jaw, angling your face toward him as he speaks again, “ya haven’t gone shy on me now, have ya love?” His voice dips, lowers to a husked whisper as he nears closer, his breath so close it twines with yours.
You want to evaporate. Embarrassment tries to swallow you whole, but the arousal overflows, only egged on by the tone and implication of his words.
“Johnny I-I” you whine, mouth gaping and closing as you try to find the words, “I’m sorry it’s just-“ you try again but the words are lost, they die on your tongue when he shifts even closer, and the movement only further reminds you that your fingers are still dipped beneath your waistband.
Johnny hauls himself up, shoulders cracking as he pulls himself closer, his chest pressing into yours as he cages you to the bed under himself, elbows pressing into the mattress either side of you as his fingers flatten over your hair. It’s dark, the only light provided is the dim haze from the street lamp outside the window, and even that is barely enough to allow you to see him clearly. But you can feel his gaze, the way his eyes burn, yet you can’t quite gather the emotion they hold.
“Do you know why I woke you up on the train?” His voice is low, it brushes across your nose and you can smell the whiskey on his breath, you wish he’d let you taste it. You frown, brows knit as you replay the day in your mind, showing up empty. He must notice, one hand holding the side of your head while the other hand smoothes over your hair again, his fingers mindlessly twirling a stray piece he finds.
You don’t answer. Your heart is hammering so hard and fast that you can’t register it, your blood is rushing past your ears and it feels as if your going to have a heart attack, the ache in your ribcage makes you wince.
Johnny’s fingers trace further down, leaving your hair, the pad of his index finger skates down your cheek, mapping the freckles and moles he knows lay there. He continues across your skin and you feel as if you’re on fire, his fingers make it to your lips, tracing the shape of them and pressing over your cupids bow.
“You were moaning my name in yer sleep, bonnie” he’s closer, words fanning your lips along with his breath, he sounds so wrong like this. Soap is brash and loud and annoying, now, Johnny is tame and quiet - gentle with this topic like it’s a precious glass trinket in his hands, so easily broken.
You gasp, cheeks flooding a deep cherry red, you’re mortified and again words escape you. He’d still let you come here, bought you into his childhood home despite what he had heard, none of it adds up until you feel his lips pressing under your jaw. He nudges you until you tilt your chin, allowing his mouth to mould to your throat as he peppers kisses to the flesh there. Your hand is still between your legs, abandoned but now receiving pressure as Johnny pushes his weight down onto you - entirely on purpose.
“Ah- Johnny” your free hand snatches up, lays into his throat, holding him against you as he smirks into your skin. “Had to wake you up before I got us thrown off the train for public indecency, lass” his voice is muffled against you, his tongue tasting your flesh as you pant beneath him. “Had to keep my jacket in my lap for the rest of the journey” his teeth press into you now, sucking a welt deep into your skin and there’s no escaping the moan that creeps from your throat. You try to catch it but Johnny is quicker, pressing a palm over your mouth before you manage to clamp your mouth shut. “Quiet now, bonnie, don’t wake the house up” he smirks again, tongue soothing over the indents of his teeth.
He shuffles up, brings himself closer to your face again, then he stops- pauses in his tracks. You’re desperate to see him, to turn on the lights and stare into those beautiful blue eyes of his. Johnny balances his weight on one elbow, his fingers tracing your cheek before he leans in, pressing his lips to yours in the most tender kiss you think you’ve ever been captured in.
It’s so sweet. Too sweet. It makes your teeth ache and you can’t help but smile into his mouth, only to find he mirrors you. Bites it off in a huffed laugh that proves to be contagious, you’re panting into each others mouth, the smell of whiskey and mint fanning the space. Your hand is still at his neck and you move it up, thumb brushing over his ear as you rake your fingers over the shaved portion of his head and through the longer tresses of his mohawk that is beginning to grow out. “What’s so funny?” You ask, breathy, drunk on Johnny. He smirks into your cheek, takes the flesh between his teeth in a tease that makes you whine, “I’ve thought about this for so fuckin’ long” he admits, openly, pleased with himself when he kisses your cheek softly.
You want to tell him that you’ve felt it too, you want to spill it all, from your tongue right onto his. Yet, it dies away in a smile, disbelief washing through you, the tug of the whiskey and the slow thrumming of sleep in your blood making your eyes droop. You lean up, pressing your lips to his again, feeling as he deepens the kiss, pressing his tongue against your lips until you allow him in, pressing your hips up into his making him hiss. “Fuck, bonnie” he scolds, grip on the sheets tightening, “I don’t fancy getting an earful from me ma’ about this” he laughs, “I’ll fuck you silly when they’re all out tomorrow” he solidifies the promise with a kiss, teeth and tongue as he groans into your mouth, “then you can be as loud as ya fuckin’ like” his mouth skates from your mouth to your throat again, wet trail of his lips making your skin prickle.
“For now” he starts, smoothing his hand over your mouth again, making your eyes squeeze shut, “you’re going to let me help you cum” he rasps. It’s as if your world explodes, tiny fragments scattered as you try and catch them, but it’s useless. It’s torturously slow when Johnny shifts his weight, freeing up his hand and balancing his weight on his knees and thighs to keep himself up, then he traces his fingers down between your breasts and over your tummy, reaching your navel and continuing down until he reaches your waistband.
He doesn’t move your hand, simply guides his over yours, the difference in size laughable when his palm engulfs your hand entirely. You’re too focused on his motions, startled when he presses his lips into your throat again, smirking when your whines and mewls die beneath his palm. His mouth gapes when the length of his fingers over yours forces them to be met with the wetness between your legs, coating his fingertips. “Jesus, lass” he groans, hushed into your neck like a secret. He wraps his fingers between yours, slotted between one another, locked together as he begins to move both of your hands in tandem.
Out of instinct, you part your legs further, Johnny growls, “minx” then a flash of teeth nip at your ear as he continues to rock both of your hands against your clit. Your palm rubs friction against the bundle of nerves, the pressure of Johnny’s hand only adding to the sensation, you’re overwhelmed - embarrassingly aware that you won’t last long. You whine, pressing your head back against the pillows, “you’re doin’ so well, bonnie” he whispers, “ya look so pretty like this” he kisses your temple, hips rutting into the mattress as he adds more pressure to your fingers. You’re panting against his palm, steadily ascending to your release, so close you can taste it. His name is muffled into his own skin, a warning as he dips his fingers between your folds, never letting up the motions of his wrist as he guides your hand to rub faster against you slit.
Your orgasm surprises both of you, more so him when your teeth sink his palm, almost making him hump your thigh from how turned on it serves him to get. Your moan is suppressed back down your throat, swallowed down when Johnny kisses from your neck to your jaw, removing his hand to seal his mouth over yours when he’s sure the last wave of orgasm has passed, not keen on having you moan so loud the roof shakes. He kisses you daft, makes you preen into his mouth with as many hushed sentiments you manage to gift before he’s swallowing them down.
Johnny allows you a second to catch your breath, leaning back to catch a glimpse of your come down, the way you pant and your chest heaves, pretty doe eyes wet and blown wide. He moves to take your hand in his, pulls it from your waistband and up to his mouth, it looks to be a cute gesture - until he’s sucking your fingers into his mouth and your juices along with them. “Johnny!” You squeak, face flushed with a wide smile when he brings himself close again, connecting his mouth to yours so you can taste yourself.
You settle for kissing him until the sun peaks over the buildings of the street, buttery winter sunshine seeping through the cracks in the blinds as the two of you fumble with grabbing hands and wet trails of lips and tongue. Johnny listens out for the movement of the house awakening, footsteps shuffling around the floorboards, the rushed scrubbing of teeth and jangle of keys, there’s a resounding handful of different voices shouting out their goodbyes and he returns the politeness with a groggy “see ya in a bit”. But as soon as the door slams, his eyes darken, hovering above you like a shadowed phantom, the promise of ruin present in his smirk.
“Merry Christmas, lass”
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randombush3 · 8 months ago
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THE SECOND PART
(to get back to the main post)
carry on reading!!!
[...]
Bali is hot. Or at least, by your English standards, it is. 
The children enjoy the villa at the Ritz, less so the yoga you partake in when your best friends find out that it can mend broken hearts, and there are big TVs in the living rooms that the World Cup matches are broadcasted on. 
Your fingers remain bare, but no one knows about the ring in your suitcase anyway, so no one questions the absence of jewellery that used to adorn your hands. Or, at least, no one whose opinion you actually care about. 
Nico and Elena are happy to play and play and play, barely granting you their attention when you disrupt their endless hours in the pool or exploring the beautiful grounds of the hotel with the 24-hour childcare service. You had been reluctant to accept the help, but Gio was fine with her own daughter being stolen away, and they both called you ‘uptight and preoccupied, a sad, faded picture of how fun you used to be’ until you gave in. 
You let Alexia wonder about how her children are, attributing her lack of phone calls to her focus on chasing World Cup glory, blissfully ignorant to the fact that your friends have been micro-managing your interactions ever since they agreed they aren’t sure about letting you forgive the blonde just yet. That is not to say she doesn’t ever speak to them – Nico was gifted an iPad for Easter (a shoddy, shoddy excuse of an occasion to be given it, but you barely batted an eye as he tore open the packaging and thanked Auntie Anya profusely). He sort of understands how to FaceTime Alexia. They often happen when he is with what Alexia calls ‘the can’t-mother-too-busy-doing-drugs nanny’. 
You are lounging on the sunbeds, sweat pooling on your navel, music playing softly through the speaker Elena had begged you to bring. Though Moana pales in comparison to the days you’d attend concerts that weren’t your own, you are quite content to relax and zone out the lively songs and stare up at the brilliant, blue sky. 
Today is a bit different. You are two weeks into your holiday, with one remaining, and, today is the day you are finally going to open Alexia’s gift. 
You worked out what it was the moment she had given it, but, since you know that curiosity kills the cat, you have stopped yourself from opening it, not sure if you will cope with seeing a ring. What would this ring even be? A ‘sorry I fucked my best friend’? 
Elena hasn’t been included in the children’s entertainment plans for the morning; they have gone for a visit to a coral reef, accompanied by their babysitter and Anya (who you are beginning to think is enjoying their activities more than they are). Despite being relatively advanced for her age, some things fall short, such as her attention span. It doesn’t help that the sleeping issues Alexia had noticed are leaking into her time spent with you, too. 
“Mama,” comes a small whine, followed by a sniffle. Elena has been trying her best to copy you, lying underneath a towel for shade. You had hoped she’d finally fallen asleep, seeing as that didn’t happen last night. With her evidently still awake, you sit up, reaching out to run your hand through her damp hair, not quite dry from when she had enough energy to splash around in the pool. 
“Mama, tired.” 
“I’m not surprised. That’s what happens if you don’t sleep.” 
“Mama.” The petulance is a little glimpse into her teenage years, but then she begins to cry and your imagination falters at the sound. 
Elena, as far as toddlers go, is not the most emotional. She is generally well-behaved, if a little unresponsive at times, but she is quiet and introverted and happy to follow the leader, whoever that may be. She is a complete contrast to her brother, who basks in the attention he demands from those around him, loud about what he loves and hates, yearning to make friends with everything he sees. Elena, Elisabet Segura has told you, is just like Alexia, when she was that age. Controlled, reserved. (And your parents were quick to draw the similarities between you and your son.) 
Just like her mother, Elena is drawn to you. Just like his mother, Nico is drawn to Alexia. Opposites attract. 
It’s hard to ignore if you notice it. 
So, when Elena begins to cry, you are alarmed to see, in her eyes, the same fear that clouds hazel irises you know far too well. The tears glide down her cheeks in inherited patterns, and you try not to panic at how much she looks like Alexia – even if they do not share the same DNA. 
Part of you, the same part that suffered from postpartum depression and dulled your motherly instincts, wants nothing more than to run away from the crying toddler, horrified at the sight as you spiral and begin to imagine Alexia in her place, just as distraught as your daughter seems to be. And it’s weird and unsettling and you are so confused because Elena hasn’t cried like this since you told Alexia to leave. She continues, and even that night starts to seem minor in comparison to her meltdown right now. 
Elena does not sob, she does not scream, she does not shout and go bright red in the face earnestly. A developmental tantrum, sure, but never, ever like this. 
You have never seen this before, and you are at a loss for how to respond. Naturally, you draw her into your arms, holding her close and rocking her gently as she continues to wail. 
“Oh, my darling,” you stagger out, trying to forget your desire to join her, to break down with her. “Mama’s here, Lela. It’s okay.” The words feel inadequate and do nothing to soothe her, though your hands stroke her back as if to rub the comfort in, to absorb her anguish and bleed it out. You would do it, if you could. You’d take all of her pain away in an instant. 
In your mind, a whirlwind of thoughts swells up and disgorges bubbling, burning ideas into the pit of your stomach, none of them quite fitting as an explanation for her distress. Is she hurt? Is she missing Alexia? Or is it something deeper, something you’d overlooked? 
You can be selfish, you know that. Perhaps you have been too focused on getting over the destruction of your family that you have forgotten said family in the process?
Perhaps this has happened before! You were touring for a while.
As you hold her, helplessness washes over you, as though the pool you are right next to has grown thrice the size and is trying to drown you both. You wish Alexia were here all of a sudden. Alexia, gifted at soothing crying children and being a mother and managing a career and parenthood in a way that you have never quite managed. 
Alexia, who gave into your request for children and ended up besting you at it. 
Alexia, whom you still love and miss and hope, sometimes, will wake up beside you even if you know that it is wrong and pathetic and… God, do you really lack such self-respect that you’d take her back? Are you this useless that the crying child in your arms should be passed off to someone else because you can’t cope and you never will and you still smoke because you’re stressed and the last time you took drugs was far too recent to be called a good mother and Elena cries and cries and cries and…
You take a deep breath. 
“It’s okay,” you repeat, hating that you are lying to her. It’s not okay! None of it is okay. “Mama’s here, Lela, Mama’s here. You’re safe.” 
Your voice trembles, and she hears the weakness of your tone, unconvinced and uncomforted, failed by the woman who is supposed to guide her through all of her storms as steady as the sun’s movement each passing hour. Elena’s cries continue unabated, her small frame wracked with sobs as she clings to you, squeezing your skin tightly in a way that tells you that you are not enough. 
You, alone, are not enough for her. 
You can’t do this. 
With your arms holding her securely in place, you dip down slightly, grasping your phone from the tote bag it’s shaded in. It has been warmed by the sun anyway, but the heat of the screen as you press it to your ear is nothing in comparison to the burning in your chest, the fire her cries have ignited in a way that destroys everything in you. 
She continues to scream into your body as the dial tone buzzes and beeps three times, picked up on the fourth as if she has been counting the rings.
“Dime,” Alexia’s gruff voice huffs out, unimpressed that you have called her after refusing for the past month, seemingly always busy. Anya and Gio had given her excuses; you were busy talking to Leah, you were in a meeting, you didn’t want to speak to her. “Now is not a good time.” 
You only manage to breath out her name before she understands that something is seriously wrong. 
“Alexia, it’s Elena… she’s… she’s crying, she hasn’t stopped. Alexia, I-I don’t know what to do,” you admit, voice breaking. You know she will be able to hear the sobs coming from the toddler, her voice mighty and fierce despite how small she seems. “She hasn’t slept at all, and it just… happened. I can’t calm her down.” 
“Is she hurt?” 
“No, no,” you stutter, words tumbling out in a rush, “I don’t think so.” 
“What do you mean ‘hasn’t slept’? Not even a nap?” 
You shake your head, panicked. At Alexia’s lack of response, you remember that she is not here with you. You swallow your own sobs. “She’s been sharing a room with Nico and everything’s been fine, except, last night, she wouldn’t sleep. It was like she was terrified of it. She begged me to let her sleep with me, so I brought her into my bed and, I don’t know, it didn’t help. I tried to tire her out, read to her, sang to her, told her off, comforted her, but she wouldn’t and so I drifted off and she didn’t and we were relaxing today – it’s just us, today – and she started crying half an hour ago and hasn’t stopped.” 
As if on cue, Elena’s sobs grow louder, piercing through the phone line in a way that makes both you and Alexia feel sick. But Alexia has heard these before, and has kept them from you for a very good reason.
“She’s exhausted,” Alexia decides calmly. “She’ll cry herself to sleep.” 
“She doesn’t want to sleep!” you snap, frustrated. 
“She’s scared you are going to leave her. She usually… she usually cries for you, when she’s with me. I guess not seeing me has flipped it.” 
“Usually?” 
You pale. 
“Usually, Alexia?” 
You hear a sigh. “Do you want me to talk to her?” she asks, ignoring your horrified question. “Rub her back and keep touching her, so that she knows you’re there. I’ll… I’ll see if I can get her to calm down a bit so that you can – you need a breather, don’t you?” 
“My daughter is crying as though the world is about to end.” 
“Well, for her, it feels like it is. Put me on speaker.” 
You obey her instruction, reclining on the lounger so that Elena is now curled on top of you, wetting your chest with her tears. You place the phone near her head, both hands trying desperately to remind her that she is not alone. 
“Lela, petita, no estàs sola. Estoy aquí, y Mama también. Mai et deixarem.” 
Elena sniffles, surprised by the sound of Alexia’s voice. 
“That’s it, darling,” you encourage as the sobs are quickly replaced by resigned whimpering. Alexia continues to talk, hardly understandable as you let yourself succumb to your own emotions, your tears running down the sides of your face, hands still drawing circles on your daughter’s back. “That’s it,” you whisper. 
Alexia hangs up when she hears both of you breathing deeply, slowly, softly; fast asleep. 
She wipes the sweat from her brow, more exhausted from this than the gym session she had stepped out of. 
“What was that about?” Codi asks her curiously, taken in the blush in her captain’s cheeks, the slight dent in her lips from where she has bitten them. “Rather inappropriate to pick up a booty call when we’re this close,” she pinches her fingers together, “to the semis, no?” 
“Elena won’t sleep with her either,” Alexia says, if not because she needs to tell someone then because she relishes in the embarrassment that clouds Laia’s face as she hurries to take her comment back. 
“I thought you’d overcome it,” Laia replies sadly. “She was sleeping the whole night in her own bed, wasn’t she? That was only two months ago.” 
“She can’t deal with it, Codi.” Her sigh is a little more heartbroken than what is fitting for such a communal area, but Alexia does not care that her hunched shoulders have caught Irene’s attention, the defender well-acquainted with the signs of family issues. “She can’t deal with the back-and-forth. She is only three.”
“It has been a year,” comforts her friend. “Maybe she needs more time to adjust.” 
“Laia, you did not hear her. She cried like she was going to die, and I felt like I was going to die with her. You know how Y/n is with… You remember what it was like when Nico was a baby, when he wouldn’t stop crying. We were lucky that Elena didn’t have that, or that the doctors were more vigilant or whatever, but… I was keeping this from her for a reason.” 
Alexia doesn’t want to guilt you back to her. There is the slightest possibility that, if you were to know just how much Elena has been struggling while away from you, you would suffer through your heartbreak and pretend everything was fine, just to make her happy. Just to make their lives easier. 
But Alexia knows. Alexia knows you wake up every day and relive it again and again. She sees the repulsion in your eyes when you look at her – she saw it through the wine and the pleasure. 
She knows you smoke, she knows the rumours about the parties you go to are mostly true. She knows that the album is about her, and that the success didn’t taste sweet because it exploited your heartbreak. 
She knows that you don’t feel anything towards Leah Williamson, that you’re only trying to get her attention or fill her place. 
Alexia knows all of this, because you are a part of her. She knows how you feel like she knows where her right hand is, and, the worst part about that, is that she knows it is all entirely her fault. 
“Irene, where is Mateo?! Alexia needs her little person hugs!” shouts Laia, sympathy hidden by her teasing tone, which Alexia is very grateful for. “Get the nen, and get him now!” 
The unopened ring box travels with you to Australia. 
Spain’s failure to lose has led them to the World Cup Final, and while you are going to support your own country, Elena and Nico are dressed in ALEXIA jerseys, yellow and red stripes painted onto their chubby cheeks. 
You had found out, after the Elena incident, that your friends had been lying to Alexia for your peace of mind, or so they claimed. 
You don’t know how to tell Alexia that you called Leah before you left for Bali and told her that you couldn’t be with her. Or that Gio and Anya had been meddling, going as far as to calculatedly gift Nico an iPad in preparation for a summer of trying to save you from a broken heart. 
So… you send her a heads-up that you’ll be attending the final, wish her luck (but not too much, for the sake of the Lionesses), and ensure the children are down for naps so that they have energy to party late into the night regardless of the outcome. 
As a desperate, short-term solution while separate from Alexia, you had your manager seek out the best paediatrician in Bali and get a reasonable prescription for melatonin, just so that Elena can sleep. You plan to let Alexia focus on her tournament and bring up the issue when preseason starts, aware that drugging the child to sleep is definitely not the best option. 
With another hour of sleep in their systems, you have time to re-pack your suitcases, ready to leave the next day. 
And you are reminded of your unopened gift. 
Alexia had said to open it when you were home, but you reason that home is with your children, and home, due to your career, is often also in the hotel suites in foreign countries. 
You root through the piles of neatly-folded clothes, searching for the box you had buried at the bottom. Its velvet edges are soft under the wrapping paper and the box is sitting in the palm of your hand, naked now, before you realise what you are doing. 
The lid flicks open, and you prepare yourself to see something shiny, some insanely expensive diamond that certainly won’t fix all that she has done. 
But you brace for nothing, for inside the box lies only a slip of paper. 
A boarding pass from London Stansted to Barcelona-El Prat Airport, decorated in aged, black ink.
Scrawled on top of the flight details is something much more valuable than the entrance into First Class the paper allows. 
Eleven digits. 
Your old phone number. 
You remember this. 
It was the night you first kissed Alexia, or, rather, she kissed you. You’d been at some FC Barcelona event, and you’d gone outside because you had realised it might not have been acceptable for Alexia to hit on you in front of all those people, no matter how much she had wanted to. 
You’d smoked to get her attention, to get her to tell you off. To start a conversation. And you had loved her from the minute she kissed you, so tentative, so unsure. 
The boarding pass is sentimental, and you are amazed at the condition it is in, or even the fact that she still has it. 
You drop the box, plucking the paper from the slit it had been situated in, unfolding it, examining it with tears in your eyes. 
You turn it over in your palm, re-acquainting yourself with your memories from that evening. 
And you notice fresh, blue ink written on the back of the boarding pass. 
It’s Alexia’s handwriting, this time, though neater than usual, having clearly taken care to form her letters correctly. 
Can we start again? it says.
There is a drawing of three stick women, short dresses, high ponytails, too. One is circled, an arrow leaping out of the wobbly shape. That one is labelled with your name, and, underneath, ‘esta es mi favorita y me casaré con ella algún día’. 
Marta once told you, at the expense of her club captain, that that had been Alexia’s only comment about you back when they were all obsessed with your break-out girl group and could never talk about anything else. 
Twenty-nine-year-old Alexia Putellas knows that her mistakes have lost her many battles, but twenty-nine-year-old Alexia Putellas also knows that her love will win her the war. Because there you are, and nothing is worth fighting for more than you. 
(to get back to the main post)
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orgasming-caterpillar · 4 months ago
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F1 Drivers As Desi Boys
A.K.A. The F1 grid as Indian guys
Also, I will be writing an entire chatfic about this AU on ao3, so stay tuned ;)
Charles Leclerc — “Charlie”
I think he would be from Mumbai. But like, he lived in the very high-end part of it so it's very hard to know right off the bat.
I just KNOW he studied abroad, okay? Italy or Canada I think. Look at his face— you just know he's the kinda guy people see on the street and think “angrej”
Speaks Hindi with a subtle but insufferable white guy accent. He can't even help it, that's just how he speaks. He once called Max “bhenchod” with the most authentic, desi accent when he was mad and they have all beaches in that high ever since.
Dropped out of university in his last year and came back to India to handle his dad's business after his dad's death.
Fell in love with the hot employee and made him the manager. Everyone knows Carlos got the position by sleeping with the new young hot boss but they stay silent to avoid getting fired.
Now lives in the same complex in Mumbai as Carlos, Max, Lando and others. Lives with his mother, two brothers and a dog.
Leo is a recurring guest in every society event no matter what. Shanta aunty ki kitty party? He's invited. Children playing cricket below? He is the referee. Security guard's dad died? Arthi Leo hi utha raha hai.
Best friends with Pierre. went to the same school as him in his childhood.
Not friendly at ALL with Max.
Carlos Sainz— “Mirchi”
Marathi Mulga for sure
Maula Mere Maula king of guy
His ass should be in a TV serial
Was a regular office worker before he fucked down his boss and now he's the manager. And, well, a win is a win, right?
His parents were kind of homophobic before he became the manager. It's hilarious, actually.
He has such a good voice. If you catch him singing one of the old bollywood songs of Lata Mangeshkar or Muhammad Rafi, consider yourself blessed by the gods.
Knows how to cook since he lives alone
Literally the guy every aunty dreams of marrying their daughter to. Manager of his office. Cooks. Cleans. Respects his elders. Funny. Charming. Every time he and Charles go out at least one middle aged person has asked Carlos if he's married yet and frankly, as his boyfriend who's Right There, Charles is pretty offended.
Have y'all seen the pictures of him in those button up shirts and trousers? The eyes that make Rahat Fateh Ali Khan songs play in your ear every time you look into them? So desi husband material
Best friends with Lando, basically brothers with his they are with each other
Like any best friend, he does NOT like Lando's boyfriend
Max Verstappen— “JATT DON'T CARE 💪🔥💯”
From Haryana
The M in Max stands for Mharo Balam Thanedar Chalawe Gypsy— jkjk
Some say he's aggressive, hot headed, quick tempered; some say he's just Haryanvi.
Is in a psychosexual homoerotic rivalry with Charles and is in denial because of his internalised homophobia.
His dad and Charles’ dad were business partners and now they're always wanting to one up another in the family businesses.
Talking about his father— his dad is very rich and also a typical Haryanvi dad. Bapu sehat ke liye haanikarak type shit.
His father made him do kushti when he was younger and Charles still teases him about it
Will randomly infodump about his father whenever the opportunity presents itself
Married
With how he usually is and what his childhood was like, you'd think he'd be a horrible father but you're WRONG
Everyone loves his daughter Prithvi, or P, for short.
They love spoiling her. Every year on her birthday she gets so many gifts it takes her two days just to open them.
Funnily enough, she once “betrayed” him by saying her favourite was Charlie Uncle.
I just think it would be so funny if he drove a Toyota Fortuner.
Lando Norris— “Lassan 🧄”
From Bangalore
Youtuber. Makes videos for every one of his channels religiously. Has a channel for gaming, another for vlogs, another for shorts and somehow manages them all while uploading reels and posting on Instagram???
He's a university student but nobody knows it because he's always posting videos so they just think he's a full time youtuber
“Shares a room” with Oscar, who is his boyfriend, by the way. You'd never guess. (that is a fucking lie. If you watch even one of his livestreams you'd know that they have explored each other's bodies. He's always “dekho guys Oscar aa gaya 😄😄😄” bro you're not fooling anyone)
Has his own merchandise. His designs are always so cool that they sell out before they're properly out.
Will probably make his own content team when he graduates
He once slipped on the desi toilet while travelling and Carlos made a reel about it. It is one of his most famous reels and Lando will absolutely ignore you if you talk about it.
Kinda fuckboyish???? Like he gives off the vibes of the kinda boy that only texts you past midnight and says shit like “what are you wearing? ;)” Like thank god he has a boyfriend or he would single handedly destroy the faith in love of every girl in a 5 kilometre radius
Oscar Piastri— “gora pakora”
From Goa
Frequently shows up on Lando's videos and livestreams
Studying engineering and living with Lando, basically taking care of him because of course he is
Regular victim of Lando's youtube shenanigans. Gets pranked one too many times every other day.
Has this kind of dead stare where he's just 😐 until Lando comes and annoys (see: kisses or pranks) him
Gets asked “bhai tu kabhi kuch bolta kyu nahi hai” so frequently he should just write “pata nahi yaar” on his face.
Has strong beef with Carlos. Do not talk about that man in front of him. Now this is really inconvenient because Carlos is Lando's bEsT FrIeNd iN tHe WoRlD
There beef started when Lando cried because he missed Oscar and Carlos showed up to Oscar's parents house asking him to square the fuck up. His parents —poor them they don't even know their son is gay— were left to wonder why their son was on a video call with his roommate OUTSIDE in the middle of winter vacation while a strange man cussed him the fuck out.
Lando can and will and DOES make him do silly dance trends with him on Instagram reels
Best friend is Logan, who studies engineering with him. You don't know how much you can depend on someone else until you're an IISER student and they're the only good friend you have.
Daniel Ricciardo— “Paaji”
From Chandigarh
Y'all remember Sodhi from Tarak Mehta Ka Ulta Chashma? Yeah. Him.
No one knows how he's able to control Max. Literally his best friend. Max will always have a resting bitch face but when Danny paaji is there he's all “😆😆😂😂🤣🤣” like bro 😐
I just know he would randomly say “oye balle balle balle balle balle” for no reason other than to annoy people. I just know it.
Actually works very hard and always helps people, but he's such a troll that people just think he's some unemployed youtuber with a prank channel
Absolute party animal. Do not ever in front of him mention that you're free that night.
George Russell— “nazuk kali”
From Delhi
Graphic designer. Edits Lando's videos for nim. Studies computer science.
Shared a room with Alex Albon and Logan Sargeant. Their relationship status is very complex. I'm not saying that they're a throuple, I'm not saying that they're friends. What I'm saying is that they're so dependent on each other I don't think they could function alone anymore. These three idiots make a full functional human being together. George cleans the house, Alex does the cooking and Logan does the laundry and the dishes. They manage, thanks.
George Russell is the type of guy to say “ghar pe maa behen nahi hai kya?” When he sees a girl getting catcalled.
George Russell is the type of guy to say “aapko kahin lagi to nahin?” When he bumps into someone.
George Russell is the type of guy to cover his mouth and say “uff” when he eats something spicy on accident.
On that note, George absolutely cannot handle his spice. Never bit into a raw green chilli willingly in his entire life.
You just know he eats the meethi pani puri with the red chutney and all.
Thinks momos are better than pani puri (he's wrong).
Closes his eyes and covers his ears when a condom ad or a spicy movie scene comes on the TV
Very pale because he rarely leaves his room (which— he's a computer science major, come on)
Lewis Hamilton— “dac saab”
From Kozhikode (Kerala)
Fashion influencer, gets brand deals all the time. Always promoting this brand or that.
Also actually a veterinary doctor with his own dog clinic.
Has a youtube channel where heostly makes affordable fashion tips etc but also posts the dogs at his clinic from time to time.
Spent a lot of years in South Delhi where he fell in love with a guy when he was a teenager but when he eventually moved back to Kozhikode they fell out of contact. Now he’s moved to Mumbai as he opened up a new clinic there and doesn't even know that he actually lives in the same goddamn building as the guy he fell in love with 20 years ago back in South Delhi.
I think y'all can already guess who the guy was, but if you can't (shame on you) it's Nico Rosberg.
Had a wife but she cheated so they divorced or something idk how do you justify a 40 year old guy being unmarried in India?
Loves his dogs more than anything, if there's a dog at his clinic that he can't save he will be sad for days.
Speaks Hindi in a voice that's like three octaves lower than his usual voice. Thinks he sounds bad but he sounds so damn hot.
Nico Rosberg— “thi ek.”
From South Delhi
News anchor for sure. Has a sadness in his eyes that makes you wonder if he ever got over the heartbreak he had at 19 (he did not)
Most people think his hair is dyed (it is not) because he's a chapri (he might be)
Legends say that the only time he has been seen with a smile on his face on TV was when he was talking about his childhood best friend.
The reason he doesn't anchor for any of the big or daresay political news channels is because they don't like how he compares international disputes to the fight he had with his best friend when he was 19.
Regularly travels to other metropolitan cities for news coverings (mainly sports) but lives in Mumbai for majority of the time.
In fact, lives in the same building as Lewis. The fact that they haven't run into each other in the elevator yet is a miracle (or a curse).
Will talk about love and heartbreak to anyone who would listen. You know those boys who say “thi ek” whenever someone tries to talk to them about love? Yeah that's him.
Married and has two daughters that he loves very much.
No pets because they remind him too much of Lewis.
Sebastian Vettel— “Chacha”
From Delhi
Lives in Mumbai with his wife.
Best friends with Lewis, knows everything about him and Nico.
Kind of a father figure to Charles.
The beloved colony uncle that always has the wildest stories ever. Catch him at the tea stall and just get him talking— you will be a changed man when he is done.
“Aur phir uska accident ho gaya aur usne apna haath kho diya, to uski manghetar ki family ne unse rishta tudwa liya. Jiske baad uski manghetar ki sagai mujhse hui aur phir hamari shaadi hui or shayad aaj bhi wo akela hi ek haath se apna hila raha hai bechara”
“...”
You would think considering how sweet he is, he was always this sweet but NO, this man was a MENACE.
Everyone who knew him before he got married wants him dead even now after all the years.
Fernando Alonso— "Kaka"
From Jaipur
The exact opposite of Sebastian.
The old man you see on the side of the road with paan in his mouth and a gaali on his lips
Also tells you stories from his youth and they're just as interesting but he's so arrogant about it that you're no longer interested in listening five minutes in no matter how interesting the story is
The kind of old man who sees children playing in the streets and starts acting like an overly invested referee for no reason.
Goes to the park in the morning at the same time as Sebastian but unlike him, Fernando does not let the joy and whimsy of life have any effect on him making you wonder why he's there at all
Lance Stroll— “vegan wali diet almond wala ghee 😌💅”
From South Bombay
Ameer baap ki bigri aulad
“What do you mean I can't buy the whole store?”
Y'all remember that “Mawn, terew paaw ki jewtie maawwww” girl??? Yeah
Sonam Kapoor is jealous of how much better he is at being a nepo baby
Logan Sargeant— “ye bhi thik hai”
Lives with George and Alex
From Goa
Thank god he does because he would not be surviving otherwise
Might have feelings for his roommates but all he knows how to do is wash the dishes and the clothes and he doesn't wanna die of hunger so he's silent.
Except maybe in front of Oscar but that's his best friendddd
Studying computer science too
Alex Albon— “dhokla4lifer”
From Gujarat
I might be projecting a bit but as someone who fucking LOVES dhokla, I don't see any reason as to why Alex should not.
Cooks for his two roommates, and always cooks so good.
Dhokla on Sundays and a tiffin box full of thepla and aam ka aachar whenever one of them is travelling home
Studying history and geography
Yuki Tsunoda— “momo wale bhaiya”
From Dehradun
Do not call him momo wale bhaiya. He can and will kill you.
Actually does love cooking
Has his own restaurant near the university campus
Pierre Gasly— “tantar mantar”
From West Bengal
Tired of everyone's “kaala jaadu” jokes.
Charles’ best friend and confidante.
Gossip girls. They have all the tea on everyone in the uni.
“Bokachoda”
Does sports.
Final year law student
Esteban Ocon— “Pierre's ex (he is NOT)”
From Odisha
Has beef with Pierre.
Will argue about anything from the origin of roshogulla to the state's contribution in the fight for freedom of the country.
Also final year law student
Extras—
Sergio Perez from Bihar
K Mag from Kashmir (haha get it? Because he's a track terroris—)
Nico Hulkenburg from Kashmir too
Valtteri Bottas from The Andaman Nicobar islands or something idk he shows so much ass it's unreal
Zhou Guanyu from Meghalaya
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atlafan · 8 months ago
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“You’re not the third base coach, you know?” Layna teased Harry. “Well, you could coach people on third base, but that would be an adults only thing.”
“We have been to every single one of your nephew’s little league games this season. This is a big game, I’m paying atten-that was a ball, ump!”
“You’re going to embarrass him.”
“Plenty of other parents are-good eye, Joshy! It wouldn’t kill you to show your support.”
“Alright.” Layna clears her throat. “Down by the bay, where the watermelons grow…” the other players on the bench start singing along, and Harry rolls his eyes. “Did you even play sports growing up?”
“Of course I did.” Harry scoffs. “I played soccer, baseball, and I ran cross country.”
“Ooohh, a jock.”
“I wouldn’t put myself in that category. I didn’t do well in my classes, so I let myself be a good athlete. Oh, that call was bullshit. That’s a ball!”
Josh frowns as he comes back over to the bench, pulling his helmet off. Harry goes right over to him, and takes a knee to be at eye level.
“Hey, don’t let it get to you.” He assures the young boy. “That umpire needs better glasses. He probably knows the coach on the other team. You did great up there.”
“I should have swung. Grandpa always says to go down swinging.” Josh pouts.
“Next time you’re up to bat you can do that. Shake it off, yeah? No matter what, Auntie Layna and I are taking you for pizza and ice cream afterwards.”
“No way?! Just us three?”
“Just us three.”
“Cool!” Josh heads over to his coach and his teammates, feeling much better about his strikeout.
Harry makes his way back over to Layna and puts his arm around her shoulders. She looks up at him, grinning.
“What?”
“Nothing.” She giggles and buries her face in his chest. Harry laughs softly and curls his finger under Layna’s chin so she’ll look up at him. He shuffles them over to the side of the bleachers so they’re not front and center in everyone’s view. “It’s nothing.”
“Just tell me. Make fun of me for being like a baseball dad.”
“I wasn’t going to. I got that out of my system before.” She bites her bottom lip as she looks up at him. “You’re really part of the family.”
“I like your family. Well, not so much your parents, they’re in sane. But your brother’s kids are cool.”
“They love you.”
“I like being involved. I should volunteer next season.”
“It would take you an hour to get out of the city every day to make it here in time.”
“Meh.” He shrugs. “The coaches clearly aren’t teaching them fundamentals. They’re not boosting their confidence.” Layna giggles into his chest again. “What is it?”
“Nothing.” Her arms a wrap around his neck. “I just love you.”
“I love you too. Now tell me why you’re giggling. I’m obviously doing something.”
“I was just thinking…you’re going to be a great dad someday, and I really hope it’s to my children.”
“Who else’s father would I be?”
“I don’t know. You could decide you don’t like me anymore.”
“Not possible.” He looks around before sneaking a kiss. “Let’s go have sex in the car.”
“Harry!” She squeals. “We can’t.”
“Obviously not here, we’ll drive somewhere.”
“We can’t just leave. We promised pizza and ice cream.”
“You can’t just bring up wanting me to be the father of your kids and not let me do something about it.” He pinches her hip. “That’s a paddlin’.”
“Noooo, don’t be mean to me, daddy.”
“Now you’re really gonna get it.”
“After pizza and ice cream, I’ll let you fuck me in the car before we drive home.”
“And then?”
“And then you can fuck me all night long and make the bed shake and I’ll be a good girl and take everything you give me and thank you for it.”
“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.” He grins wickedly. “Consider the paddlin’ rescinded.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
No Complaints Blurb
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thequeenofthedisneyverse · 1 month ago
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Pavitr's brother, Chander! The twin he failed to mention (not out of malice, he just forgot)
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I don't know why no one has ever thought to give this little guy the Carlos treatment. If you've been in the Encanto fandom and simped on Camilo, you know what I'm talking about.
Just picture the gang meeting Pavitr's family and Chander is just chilling on the couch playing Mario Kart or something and the gang is like...what?!
"Oh, yeah, that's my brother!"
"You never said you had a brother"
"Heh...Forgot?"
And Chander is like, "Wow, I feel SO loved by you" with an emo hair flip to add.
"Who's the oldest twin?"
Before Pavitr answers Chander chimes in with a icy glare, "Do NOT answer that!"
Clearly, we can see who's the oldest.
HC's below
Emo boy here hates the fact that he's the younger twin...and much shorter than his brother. From his perspective, it sucks. It's so weird, they were the same height one day and overnight Pavitr just shot right up!
Chander doesn't understand it, where's his growth spurt?! It doesn't help that Pavi likes to tease him about it.
Smart ass to the fullest degree and a cocky SNARKY bastard. His quips are just as fast as his brothers but probably a LOT meaner. He has no filter and doesn't try to have one either.
He tries to be seen as nonchalant but this lil guy is an eternal flame baby. For some reason he was born with anger so....yeah, anger issues. He stumped his toe this morning? It's everybody's problem now.
Please believe me when I say he's a sweetheart, he just has a very antagonistic face. He'll help his aunty, parents, or brother out no questions asked, feed the street cats (dogs too but he's more of a cat person), tutor some kids here and there, etc.
Don't touch his hair! The only person reserved to do that is his mom and even she has to chase him down to comb that bird's nest he calls hair.
Chand knows his brother is Spiderman and does "not" care all too much. Great, something else Pavitr can one up him in doing. LOVELY!
Has been in multiple school fights...gods this boy gives his parents grey hairs. Turns out he's more inclined to throw a fist at disrespect than his brother is. He comes home with more injuries than Pavi does on a bad day.
Cusses like a sailor when adults aren't around. Pavitr is used to it at this point, so he doesn't bat an eye. Usually.
Chander is cool with Pavitr's friends, Likes Hobies the most though. They match each other's chaotic energy so to speak.
Some of his hobbies include cooking, reading, coin collecting, and playing games, and making weapons (with a 3D printer and they are FAKE! Well...most of em). He wants to be a game developer when he's older because they games out now just aren't doing it for him. Well, besides Mario Kart, COD, Little nightmares, and FNAF. (And secretly animal crossing...shhh, don't tell anyone).
Very stand off-ish if that wasn't clear. He'll make it known if he doesn't feel like being bothered at that moment.
Parkour savy so most of the injuries he comes home with are just scuff marks.
Has his own pocketknife that he secretly made himself. It's engraved with his name on it but much to his dismay, he doesn't use it often.
Even with school fights or fights outside the school with people his age, he refrains using his knife 'cause he doesn't want his parents on his case about it.
Plus, his fists and his gold brace knuckles help him enough.
That's all I got, I want to do more with this knucklehead so pop some asks into my ask box that have something to do with him and I'll answer to the best of my ability.
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neoninky · 13 days ago
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Diasomnia Scenario: Lavender's Blue
I know I said I wouldn't write any more fics - that is still true...however, I did think of a precious scene with King Papa Malleus in the future (OC cameos by lil toddler Hildie VanRouge and Her Majesty Mrs. Moselle Draconia as well) based off of this song:
I've seen a few different versions with lyrical changes but I'm going with this version. So have a comfort/domestic character post, lovelies @hanafubukki @nuitthegoddess @foxwitchaine @onegianthotmess @masquerade-of-misery @aquaburst3 @iscarlettappel
Silvery snow fell outside the window as King Malleus continued to scribble ink across parchment. His desk was full of signed documents whose stacks increased with each passing hour. He finally paused when his ears caught the soft pitter pats of tiny feet sneaking their way into his study. A grin pulled at his lips once he spotted a tiny, familiar head of black hair scurry up to the side of his desk. The dragon king was soon greeted with a bright pair of ruby colored eyes that the little one inherited from her papa.
Malleus set his pen down and welcomed the giggling little bat fae with open arms which she scurried into happily, "Hello, little Beastie."
Hildie VanRouge was growing at an alarming rate. Now, she was a sneaky little toddler who constantly snuck away from her parents to explore the castle and visit her 'big brothers'. No doubt Silver was looking for her at that very moment. She, however, was as carefree as ever in the king's arms.
"Mal Mal!" she giggled and playfully reached for his horns which Malleus granted her access to without question, "Eggy??" He chuckled at her delighted little voice, "Hmm I see. Now is a good time for a break as any. Let's go see how he is doing."
The castle guards barely batted an eyelash at the sight of His Majesty walking the corridors hand in hand with the young fae. The renowned General's daughter had become a VIP amongst the guard and staff.
As the pair drew closer to the nursery, a soft voice could be heard singing. The door was ajar enough for the king to peer inside. Malleus's smile grew at the sight of his queen and her angelic voice. She sat in a rocking chair, gently singing a lullaby to the dragon egg nestled in her arms.
"Lavender's green, dilly, dilly~ Lavender's blue, if you love me, dilly, dilly, I will love you~"
Queen Moselle Draconia beamed as the egg glowed in response to her gentle voice and continued to sing.
"Let the birds sing, dilly, dilly, and the lambs play~ We shall be safe, dilly, dilly, out of harm's way~"
Moselle paused her singing with a soft whisper to the unhatched child, "Oh, your auntie is here to see you, my little prince."
As soon as Malleus pushed open the door, little Hildie rushed up to the queen with excited bright eyes, "Eggy!"
It had become routine for the young bat to check on her nephew any time she visited. She was too young to really understand the hows or whys her nephew arrived as an egg but understood enough to know that he wouldn't be an egg forever. Thus, she was probably more excited for him to hatch than anyone else. Moselle chuckled at Hildie's amusement and scooped the bat into her lap so she could probably greet the little prince. The toddler giggled when the egg glowed as soon she her tiny hands touched the shell.
"You are sure it's a prince, my love?" Malleus wasn't opposed to it just not as convinced as his bride.
"Of course. I can tell. A handsome little prince just like his father," Moselle cooed sweetly to the egg, "And just like his father, he is content to take his time it seems."
Malleus couldn't stop himself from smirking. Lilia had finally told him the full story of his hatching years ago. The king hoped his son didn't have to wait as long as he did to finally hatch.
"Perhaps he desires to wait for more companions before coming out to join them," Malleus smiled and playfully ruffled Hildie's hair before teasing, "It's only a matter of time before Silver and Astrid have more nieces and nephews running around for us, right Beastie?" "And Sebek?" Moselle smiled knowingly, "I'm sure he and Petra will have a lively bunch of hatchlings soon enough."
The royal couple chuckled at the memory of Sebek's emotional outburst when Petra finally confessed that she was smitten with him as well. It certainly took a while but it finally happened to everyone's joy and relief.
"Your father is here too, my darling,” Moselle cooed to the egg and it once again glowed in response. Malleus carefully took his heir into his arms. It made him far less anxious now that he had some practice. He’d never admit it to anyone aside from his queen, but in the beginning he was a bit terrified of fatherhood. How could he, of all people, possibly care for a baby dragon? Help it hatch and thrive? The answer was clear as soon as his bride became a mother. There wasn’t a shred of doubt as soon as she laid their egg, only joy. If she could be brave then so could he.
He placed a gentle hand on their egg's opalescent shell giving it another dose of magic to help his son grow.
“Take your time, my boy. We’ll be waiting for you.”
~
…also shipping jump scares oop 😂
Yeah so since the whole story I was writing about all these characters is on indefinite hiatus, I figured I’d go ahead and just make the ships official in this soft lil blurb
For those that were reading the actual fic:
Silvetra (Silver x Petra) fans, I am sorry…BUT
It’s Sebetra (Sebek x Petra) now and forever amen 🎉⚡️🐊⚡️ you got the girl my boi ya did it
Or for people who love Sebek but don’t read the fic - it’s Sebek x Yuu/Yuu Coded fem OC
Congratulations SebeYuu shippers you got another one kinda! 🫡🎉
Although Silvastrid (Silver x Astrid) is friggin adorable and I will die on that hill lol
At some point in life, I am gonna do more doodles of the 2nd Gen OC bbys but now you know where the Diasomnia 2.0 OCs are coming from lol.
Also no I do not have a name for MalleMo’s son yet. Maybe they carry on the tradition of giving him a “Mal” name like his papa, grandma, and great grandma, or maybe they’ll change it up. Who knows. But his mother is correct in that their son will in fact look like his father…maybe a bit more purple/lilac from his mama.
Ngl, I imagine him looking a lot like SSR FirstDraft!Malleus but with dark green eyes instead of red 👀
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rokishimizu4 · 3 months ago
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Damian’s School trip daze
(So, I’m not 100% sure what my work schedule will be like, so that’s why I’m gonna try to focus on one thing at a time. Bruce will be my last one for my BatFam & Symbiotic! Reader until I have a set schedule. Thank you for your support and patience.)
Damian can go to the zoo whenever he feels like, thank you very much, but it becomes a bit more interesting when it becomes a school field trip, especially when Jon visits.
The staff has a system put in place just for Damian Wayne, it does not stop him from borrowing an animal for a little while, but it does make him respect the staff more. Since they are willing to put their career on the line to protect the animals in their care.
The staff also has a system for when certain animal themed Bat villains drop by for whatever reason.
Harley is the only one allowed to go see her babies with minimal supervision, usually with a specialist on Hyenas or a BatFam member.
When it comes to the activities for the zoo field trip, the teachers have to be very careful but also can’t make it easy on the kids. Especially when it comes to Damian Wayne.
Currently the teachers decided that each kid, all high school aged, will be assigned a supervillain, from across the USA, and assign a certain animal to them, and have a full report on why. The only ones not allowed are the animal themed villains.
No one is allowed to do the same villain and same animal twice, then it switches to Superheroes or something similar.
Damian knows which kid chooses what supervillains, superheroes and then what animals, which then turns into a game for the BatFam to play.
The zoo has a specific list of rules for Damian, the number one is “Please do not steal the animals, unless you’re gonna give them the same amount, or more, of love and attention as we do.” -Damian sees this as a respectful reminder on good days, on bad days he will steal another tiger if it’s the last thing he does.
“We have a species of Bats that are almost ready to be transported back to Australia, so we’re gonna show them off for a little while longer.”, Yes- Damian already knows and has ‘secretly’ been part of the rehabilitation for the Flying Fox Bats since he was informed about them (Aka Aunty Harley told him), and made sure that they got the best of care (Aka Bruce paid for all the top notch stuff cause Damian was gonna steal them to take care of them himself) after an animal smuggling ring got put down (Aka ‘Sleep Demon’ ate the smugglers and rescue got called in for the animals)
However, Damian decided to focus his project on Harley and her Hyenas, Bud and Lou. Yes, Harley can see her beloved babies as part of her being a good guy.
However, when Damian gets to the hyena enclosure he notices that some of the staff was standing outside of the bars and talking quietly to themselves.
Damian sneaks a closer look and sees Bud and Lou, and their girlfriends, were playing with a kid that looked to be covered in black oil or slime. The kid?, was alright just sitting and watching Bud and Lu throw around a few balls and bones from their breakfast.
“How the heck did they get inside? We have this entire zoo’s security locked up tighter than Fort Knox.” One of the staff members question as they try to come up with what to do, since the Hyenas were enjoying themselves and the kid wasn’t in any danger.
Cue Damian walking away to a private area, while still having the Hyena enclosure within sight. “Robin to Batman, I need you to pick up Ms. Quinn and tell her that her ‘babies’ have a new playmate. Do not try to forcefully take the child out of the enclosure as it seems that Bud and Lu have adopted them into their pack. The females have also allowed the child safe passage.”
Damian returns to the Hyena enclosure and watches, with some envy and big brother protecting/proud emotions flood him as the kid carefully pets one of the female Hyenas’ belly and the other lays her head on the child’s lap.
Is very confused about the new emotions flooding him, but stores it as he soon hears Harley’s voice crying for Bud and Lou and his father’s praying.
Bruce’s comes immediately after this one!!! I thought it would fit and end the headcanons nicely until I start my BatFam & Symbiotic! Reader story.
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daisyblog · 7 months ago
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Uncle Harry
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Our Story Masterlist Summary: Harry and YN meet Gemma’s baby.
Based on this request.
Gemma and YN were absolutely thrilled to be pregnant the same time. They would always talk about how close their babies would be, different baby things they had bought and all the memories they would make together. 
As it got closer to Gemma’s due date, Harry and YN would be hoping for the good news that their niece or nephew had been born whenever their phone rang. 
The couple had just come back from a walk around the fields with Teddy, YN who was heavily pregnant herself had collapsed onto the large sofa the minute they walked through the door. She was about to ask Harry for help with her shoes when his phone rang. 
“Hi Mum!”. Harry and YN shared a knowing look, hoping it was the news they were excited about. “Gem’s had the baby! Are they both okay?”. He couldn’t show any excitement until he knew his sister and her baby were both okay. “Thats amazing!” YN listened to one side of the conversation. “Give them a cuddle from us and we’ll be there shortly”. 
Once Harry had ended the conversation with his Mum. Harry couldn’t help but shout out loud. “WE HAVE A NIECE! WE HAVE ANOTHER NEICE!”.
“FOOK OFF! Are you serious?”. YN felt a warm feeling inside at the idea that their little ones are both girls. 
“Yes! I can’t wait for our baby now…it’s going to be so special!”. Harry let his hand wonder over YN’s tummy where their little girl was growing perfectly. 
“C’mon Uncle Harry…let’s go and meet our niece!”. 
---
Harry and YN had arrived at the hospital, gifts in their hands for both Gemma and the newest addition to the family. They walked through the quiet but sterile corridor until they found Gemma’s room number. As they walked into the private side room, they could see Gemma, Michal and Anne, who was cuddling her first grandchild in her arms. 
Harry went over to his sister, who was resting in the hospital bed, and wrapped his arms around her and told her how proud of her he was. “Congratulations both! She’s beautiful!”. Harry gave his future brother in law a brotherly hug. 
“Come here Harry”. Anne called her son over to where she was currently sat. YN used this as a chance to give Gemma and Michal a cuddle and congratulate them on their baby girl. “Meet your niece!”. Anne gently placed the newborn into Harry’s arms. 
YN instantly melted inside at the sight of her soon to be husband holding the newborn. “‘Ello…aren’t you a little cutie”. Harry spoke to the little baby in his arms. “And soon you’re going to have a best friend to hang out with…but Auntie YN over there is still growing her nicely!”. The sound of Harry chatting naturally to his niece was too much for YN’s hormones. “But until then you’ll have to enjoy all the attention we’re going to give you.”.
“I’m one lucky Mum and Grandma!” Anne smiled as she looked at the precious moment. “And I can’t wait until our other little girl arrives!”. She pulled YN into her side as she squeezed her gently in her arms. 
YN couldn’t help but let the next words flow out of her mouth. “We’re the lucky ones Anne…you’re the best Mum and now our girls get to have you as their Grandma and I know you’ll give our precious girl enough love for my Mum too!”. 
“I’ll be loving you both for the two of us.”. 
Tag List:
@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats@harrysbbyh0ney @chronicallybubbly @goldensunflowe-r  @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@kaverichauhan @peterholland04 @panicattheuc @or-was-it-just-a-dream @hittiesontour@bunnyharold @fanfictioncafe @lilfreakjez @iamahallucinationnn @theekyliepage @indierockgirrl@buckybarnessimpp @ashleighsss @jerseygirlinca @fake-coolbeans @itsmytimetoodream@treehouse-mouse @mrs-anna-styles211994
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vampirevatican · 1 year ago
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so let's talk...
they cloned tyrone (spoilers and all)
SUBLIMINAL MESSAGES
"it's in the water", "straighter is greater", "i got that ruckus", "got damn! fried chicken", "grape juice", the shot of an old american dream like poster, depicting a white man, til it pans out to the ghetto.
the movie hints to it's audience from the start that this? this shit runs deep. yeah everyone is carrying on like normal, so does the movie, and no one bats an eye until it's deliberately pointed out. for me it says a lot that i can only convey or remind folks with in the way fontaine treats junebug in the first half.
hood niggas don't wanna be hood niggas.
and that right there is exactly fontaine. not only to just the brother he lost, but extended to junebug, yo yo, charles, his momma. sure he a product of his environment but he ain't got much of a choice and that's depicted when he does everything he can to get to the bottom of what the fuck is going on up 'til he literally loses control.
EXISTENTIAL CRISIS
seeing another you. loosing complete autonomy while being conscious of it.
what slick and 'taine saw? enough to make any human question the fabric of their reality, if they're real, if their memories are really theirs, how much can they recall in those memories and if they are recalling everything. when slick saw fontaine again and when fontaine first faced his previous body. 'taine's drive was figuring out if he's really him. hell as he was grappling with the chaos that it brings in his mind, what does he say when he finally snaps out of it?
im me.
as humans our lives, decisions, etc. come from some peace of mind that we have autonomy. the fact that we can say and do as we please, even if it's within a boundary, is enough for us to feel some kind of calmness in the thought that we have power over ourselves. can't control the world around me, can't do big shit, but i can do this. the little things.
all i could think was, 'but what if there's another you.. an original you.' and when his autonomy was put into question, him backing off like that and accepting it is a form of nihilistic defeat. he can't do shit but what he's always done, and if that means he or anyone else he loves doesn't die? then it's something he deals with, until it's too much to bear.. until the cycle of everyday (that he now knows is a cycle) weighs heavy and the only thing to pull him out of it? junebug. the good memories of his brother.
THE CLONES AND TIME
i had this originally titled and future, but the point here is the original/old fontaine and his plan.
i feel that old fontaine made that deal not just because of ronnie, or the decayed blood he has to wipe up, i feel like that's part of the defeatist mindset he has. he decided the "can't beat em, join em" route was better. that assimilating to what white folks have wanted since fucking eugenics was better, even if it's not he reasons that joining is better than just dying out.
"assimilation is better than annihilation."
ofc, our fontaine, doesn't believe any of that bullshit. that the whole operation is fucked. old fontaine says that it's something they both know but i agree and disagree... they both know that's what white america wants. for old fontaine if that's enough to not have another incident like ronnie? good enough but our fontaine?? he's got junebug he's thinking about, other little kids in the here and now, the dreams that yo yo had and still has, everyone in the hood who wants out but just can't seem to get out.
CONTROL GROUPS
"tyrone... ain't that you?"
now i didn't grow up in the hood,or rather the projects, but i was near it. small knit group, everyone knows each other more or less.
the drug dealer, the pimp, the pastor, the kids, the aunties/grandmas/mamas/misses.
in the black community we all know someone like that or have heard of them, and the end of the movie shows this. it's more than just a call back and a chance to play a hit by miss badu.
these regulars? they're the control group the second in command was talking about. they're the ones that don't quite get the same treatment as the experimental group (i.e yo yo, biddy, junebug etc.) they're key players to making the ecosystem (experiment/operation) run smoothly. which is why the convo of fontaine deciding to go with slick and yo yo is integral to the ending and vice versa.
to break the cycle, the system? everyone's gotta rally together. country wide. (in movie context ofc)
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abbatoirablaze · 9 months ago
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Back To You, Nothing But A Memory
Word Count: 1.7k
Warnings:  angst
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“VICTOR, JACOB, BETHANY!” Fei Tan yelled at the three children, “I KNOW YOU THREE ARE NOT RUNNING AROUND IN MY HOUSE!  DON’T YOU DARE MAKE ME CALL YOUR FATHER HOME FROM WORK, BECAUSE YOU KNOW THAT I WILL!”
“Sorry Mrs. Tan,” the seven-year-old blond girl frowned as she came to a grinding halt.  Ten-year-old Jacob went wide-eyed before bolting out of his mother’s line of vision.  Eight-year-old Victor, however, stopped beside his neighbor, almost using her as a shield from his mother, “we-we were only playing…I-I’m sorry.”
“Oh, I can’t stay mad at you!  You are like the daughter I always wanted.  Give Auntie Fei a hug,” she cooed at the doe-eyed girl, scooping her into her arms.  Bethany giggled, returning the hug before being placed back beside Victor.  He gently reached across and took her hand, hoping that his mother would go easier on him since he was with Bethany.  She gave him a stern look, “Victor…you know the rules.”
He nodded, before his eyes averted her firm gaze.
“Victor, you be respectful and look at me!” she proclaimed.  Victor swallowed and looked up at his mother.  She reached forward and grabbed his chin, holding it between her fingertips, “you know not to run in the house.  Last time, your cousin Z tripped…because you four were-“
“I’m sorry!” he began, uttering out the words as best as he could from his mother’s grasp, “We won’t do it again!  I promise!”
“Good!  At least you’re good boy and face problems,” she smiled softly, patting him on the cheek.  She straightened out and looked to the stairs, “JACOB!  YOU COME DOWN HERE NOW!”
“Mama…” Jacob whined pathetically from around the corner.
“Don’t you make me walk over to you, Jacob Tan!”
“I’m sorry mama…”
“You sorry, you come here…”
The little boy padded around the corner, partially behind Bethany and Victor, but Fei Tan waved her finger at him, “no, no.  You don’t hide behind your little brother, Victor and Bethany.  You come here, Jacob Tan.  Right now!”
“Mama-“
“Bethany!  Victor.  You go upstairs until lunch is ready!”
“Yes Mrs. Tan!”
“Yes mama.”
“You remember that time when we were little?” Bethany asked as she looked at Victor.  Victor’s heart raced as her giggles seemed to wrap around him almost as much as the warmth of her body as she used his chest as her own personal pillow.  His heart fluttered as she batted her eyes at him, “you remember when you told me you loved me?”
“We were five and six!  It’s not as bad as you’re making it seem,” Victor chuckled from his spot on the blanket, “and anyways, you’re my girlfriend…so who’s really the one to laugh at?  I knew I loved you from the first second I met you!  You’re the one laying in my arms, so who really lost here?”
“Remember the day I moved to the apartment building?” she asked softly, looking up at him.
“I’ll never forget it!” he smiled.
“Hi…”
“What you want?” Fei Tan asked skeptically as she opened the door to the apartment.  The woman jumped as Fei got louder, “I ASK WHAT YOU WANT!  WHY YOU HERE?”
“Sorry…sorry.  I just-“
“Momma…”
Fei Tan’s rage stopped short when she saw the little girl cowering behind her mother. 
“Me and my daughter just moved into the building…you’re our neighbor…and we just-wanted to say hello and introduce ourselves.”
The little girl stepped out from behind her mother and handed off a simple looking box filled with cookies and brownies.  She bowed ever so slightly, her voice barely above a whisper as she attempted to hand the box off, her little hands trembling, “We made these for you…”
Fei softened, instantly feeling bad about making the little girl nervous.
“That is…that is very nice.  Thank you.” Fei said softly, bowing ever so slightly as she took the treats from the little girl, “you make this?”
“Uh-huh…me and mommy,” she muttered shyly, looking away from the woman.  She leaned against her mother and gripped her shirt, “I like making stuff.  Baking is my favorite!”
“Me too!” Fei proclaimed, already instantly warmed up to the little girl, “I am Fei Tan…”
“I-I’m Alice…and this is my daughter Bethany,” the woman smiled, pulling the attention back to herself, “I-I’m sorry if we bothered you, but Bethany begged me to come after she saw you had kids of your own.  We just moved into the building, like I said.  She-“
“You white!” Fei pointed out, cutting the other woman off. 
Alice, shell-shocked at the bluntness didn’t know what to do, “I-uh-yes…”
“This not white apartment building…you’ll stick out like sore thumb…why are you here?”
“My-my boyfriend’s family…they-they are-“
“Alice, what are you doing out in the hallway?”
Fei realized why she’d moved into the apartment building, as an Asian man strolled up to the two.   Both the woman and child all but lit up when they saw him. 
“I’m sorry…I just-we got stir crazy Lee…you know how Bethany gets.”
“Papa!” Bethany giggled happily, seeing the familiar man.  He gave his girlfriend a kiss before lifting the little girl up.
“You’re not her father!” Fei said quickly, pointing out the obvious difference. 
“Sometimes family is who you choose…not blood…Fei.”
“Is Mrs. Tan,” she reminded her husband’s friend, “you no call me Fei, Lee!”  
“Papa…can I play with Mrs. Tan’s kids?” 
Before Fei could answer, her two sons came fluttering past with their aunt and her son, “Fei…these boys…”
The boisterous trio made their way into the house, and Bethany was quick to get out of Lee’s arms.
“VICTOR.  JACOB!”
Two little boys reappeared at the door, “Who’s this?”
“This new neighbors,” Fei announced, “Alice and Bethany, moved in with Uncle Yang.”
“Yang?” Jacob asked, looking at the two women curiously, “Momma they’re white!”
Bethany giggled, and it was Victor who instantly seemed taken by her, “I-I’m Victor.”
“I’m Bethany.”
“I-I love you, Bethany!”
She giggled even more, a blush rising to her cheeks, “You’re cute!”
Bethany bit her lip and sighed happily.  Reaching out she stroked her boyfriend’s jaw before leaning in, “I love you, Victor Tan…”
“And I love you, Bethany one day Tan!” he smiled softly as their lips brushed.  She giggled once more as Victor leaned forward, putting some of his weight behind it.  She gasped as he rolled, pressing himself against her.  Their kiss broke, and their eyes met, both of them breathing shallowly.  He was hovering above her. 
She reached up again, stroking his cheek once more, “I can’t wait until we start college in the fall at UCLA…god, it’s the worst thing ever that we don’t go to the same school, but soon we’ll be in an apartment together…sh-“
“I need to tell you something baby…” he muttered sadly, the weight of his decision eating away at him.  He bit his lip and Bethany rolled the two of them, until she was on top, straddling his waist. Victor’s heart ached as the sunset outlined her frame, the pinks and oranges lighting up her blonde hair, and making her look like she had a halo. 
School was starting in two weeks.  
The days had been feeling shorter and shorter as the young couple ended their nights at the beach before sneaking back home. 
Victor sighed happily as he looked at his girlfriend.  Reaching out, he laced their fingers, before drawing them up to his mouth and kissing them, “I love you, Bethany Yang…”
“I love you, Victor Tan!” she giggled softly, scooting closer to him.  Their lips brushed and he smiled, letting go of her hand so that he could start wrapping his arms around her.  The couple scooted together, and Bethany flipped over, becoming the little spoon on their shared blanket, “you know…this year feels like it’s going to be crazy.”
“You’re telling me…senior year…we’ve got one more year of being at different schools.”
“And after that is UCLA!” she reminded him sweetly.  He nodded, pressing a kiss to her cheek.  She yawned and snuggled against him more, “we’re going to get ourselves a place together…just the two of us.”
“No dealing with Jacob walking in on us…”
“Or our parents!” she giggled softly. 
Victor felt a blush rising to his cheeks as he thought of the memory, “you told me that the door was locked.”
“I thought it was.”
“Just us,” he smiled, offering her another kiss as he looked out at the water, “we’ll be college freshman…sitting in a classroom all day, coming to the beach on the weekends…making love in our apartment every night…” 
“I can’t wait…”
“Me either.”
She laced their fingers together, “what is it?  You aren’t going to fight me over where we get an apartment, are you?  Because I’m dead set on-“
“I’m going to MIT!”
The words died in her throat. 
Victor had promised her back in December, when they both got their acceptance letters that they’d be together for college.  He was going to be studying engineering, while she was going to be a social worker. 
She hadn’t even heard him talk about MIT. 
“Wh-what?”
“I thought it was a long shot.  You know, ever since dad passed, mom said I should try to get in,” he admitted sadly as she let go of his hands.  His hands immediately went to her hips, and he started rubbing reassuring circles, “baby…I didn’t think I’d get in.  But when I did.  I-“
“How long did you know?”
Victor’s gaze left hers. 
Her heart broke.
“How long did you know, Victor.”
“Baby-“
“Look at me, and tell me…”
His eyes met hers, and suddenly he regretted it all.  Regretted even applying.  But most of all, he’d regretted that he’d hidden it away from her, “I-January.”
“January?”
He nodded. 
“Wh-when were you planning on telling me?” she sniffled, her eyes going glassy over the news, “we-were you going to wait until we had to sign a lease?  Were you going to disappear in the middle of the summer and let your mom tell me?  VICTOR!  You look at me and tell me…wh-why didn’t you tell me?”
“We both know why, Bethany…”
She sniffled a little bit more and shook her head, removing herself from on top of her boyfriend.  Victor reached out, but she slapped his hands away, “don’t touch me!  Don’t you dare, Victor!”
“Baby-“
“Go to hell, Victor Tan!” she spat, “I-I never want to see you again!”
Chapter 2
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xansposts · 6 months ago
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sexuality
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i wrote this a while back when i was just thinking about lgbtq+ representation and all that, it's just a rant about how i feel about it. it was shriveled up in my drafts lol but i thought pride month was an appropriate occasion to post this for first post goes crazy anyway enough yapping 🙏
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in this life, people look at you weird if you’re not normal. “normal”. sure, you could say we’ve come miles since the 1800’s and we’ve had so many rallies and protests and laws for inclusion. you can look at it positively. but, it’s tiny little things that make you realise we haven’t come that far, at all. take sexuality. we’ve had marriage legalised, and queer healthcare like hormones available to anyone that needs it. if you look at it on the large scale, everyone knows about gay people, and in western culture, nobody would bat an eye, because there is so much talk about being trans, and sapphic, and gay, that it is one of the biggest topics ever. it’s in every other tiktok and reel, you make harmless jokes with your friends calling things like sitting weird or looking a certain way gay, but just think for a second.
you’re in a not-that well known country, it’s not too big and its not too small, most people know of it. you’re in a decently small town where you have sweet parents. they’re strict to you sometimes and they smack you when necessary, but that’s really normal there. you go to a standard government school and you have good friends. you have a good social life and a good family, and you’re known as the sweetest girl between the aunties. you have siblings, and you mess around a bit, but nothing that would be morally wrong. you play harmless pranks. you like singing and drawing. you love putting your hair in crazy, weird shapes. you love helping mom mix her spiced veggies. you love pretending to help dad with washing his scooter but just making your brother do it for you. sure, not everything is perfect and you fight sometimes, but everything is where it has to be.
but you like a girl. it’s unheard of. its abnormal. it’s disgusting, it’s revolting. nobody could ever even think of something like it. if anyone knew, ever, her friends would all leave her. her friends who she gossips to everyday and listens to, will leave her alone like everyone else in her school and she will have nobody to talk to. she might see them whisper bad things about her and laugh and then look away. she has to hide it from them, and her brother, because if he knew, he would change his perception of her. the same sister he grew up with, the same sister he spent every moment with that he replays in his head with such joy, he looks at that same girl’s face with the most horrified look just because of one thing. if her parents every knew, the same parents who are her entire life. the two people she can turn to. her mother, with her silky black hair, who always held her face in her palms when she was a child and said “i’ll love you no matter what, my baby.” looks at her own child. someone with her eyes, her nose, her hair, her body. someone who gained being from her, looks at her with her eyes wide and her hand over her jaw, tears forming. with such a horrified look, the same horrified look everyone gave her. her own. mother. her father, her sweet father who used to take her on his shoulders and throw her up into the sky because she loved space and he said “i’ll show you the stars one day”, her own father who has always taught her to never stay with anyone who treats her anything less that what he does, looks at his own daughter as if she was a monster.
now, this little girl has nothing to turn to. so she copes horribly. she scratches her table, she pulls her hair from her scalp because she’s crying and she can’t breathe and she can’t scream. she holds herself because nobody ever will. all because she likes a girl. she hates herself for this, she grows up thinking she’s abnormal, and weird, and inhuman. she turns to god, and asks “why have you made me this way? why me? please god, cure my illness. i just want to be liked.” she grows up neglected, hurt, and at a point talking to her diary didn’t help. she was trapped inside a tiny black box with nothing but herself and her tears. she didn’t ask to like girls. she didn’t ask to be looked at weird. she didn’t ask to feel like she is the ONLY one that she’s ever seen that is like her. the odd one out. that’s what she lives in fear of. so she never tells anyone. she keeps it a secret. but she grows up under the stress of hiding it. her ENTIRE life. every little moment. hiding herself from everyone she cares about, because if they knew she liked girls, they would call her inhuman.
there are probably millions, if not more, people who live a life just like this. exactly like this. such a large population, growing up with such fear in their hearts, because they can’t tell anyone. it’s an immeasurable pain to carry.
that is why i believe, there is a lot of representation in western media, yes. ”dyed hair and piercings, must be gay.” ”heartstopper season 3 is coming out!!” ”all bisexuals know they need to tuck their jeans”
but i wish there were more. for girls like these. girls who feel TRULY helpless, in their own home, in their own life, who could just be themselves. representation matters because if we showed girls liking girls or guys liking guys the way we do with girls liking guys, those tiny girls or boys or anything else will feel like they’re understood. there’s more people like them out there, and they can take a deep breath, and close their eyes, and let the tears drop from their face, because they can be as happy and free as their mom, or dad, or friends, or brother. or anyone else. i wish they would see people in movies and comics and go watch them with their parents, and have it be normal. for those girls or guys in small towns, wishing anyone could let them be normal.
if you look at the us right now, we’re going backwards at a disturbing rate with all the anti-trans laws and we’re making even more kids feel unsafe. like they need to hide from everyone. and the same people who are publishing these laws, if they felt even a second of the mental pressure and pain it takes to go through that process of living your life suffering, they would be disgusted with the fact they even thought of putting a single, forget millions, of children through that. in the majority of countries, gay marriage is NOT legalised. and trans people live through the rut of it all. they are looked at the worst, and that added pressure with the fact that they feel disgusted and dysmorphic in their body and can’t do anything about that, often leads them to suicide.
and then people are so shocked. especially the older people (30 and above) “oh my god!!! this is horrifying, how could they kill themself? what even goes through a person’s head when they do that?” and they are the EXACT same people who laugh and shout and scream and gag in disgust and push them right to the brink themselves.
and in most places, it is frowned upon highly when you like someone of the same sex. and you would probably think that most invalidation comes from the older generation, who grew up with girls and guys being the absolute norm, and view anything else as shocking and abnormal. but, suprisingly, no. our own generation, the ones who have grown up with so many protests for lgbtqia+ marriage and rights, the same generation that grew up when most countries legalised gay marriage, and the same generation when being gay was being normalised, is the exact same generation that is tearing down every. single. word. that we have worked so hard to be said.
if you are a young queer person, obviously a younger, teenage person’s opinion of you is going to matter more to you than someone who is older, because, 1. they’re seen as dumb boomers who aren’t modern, and living in the same mindset and time as you, so you don’t see them as an equal, who you can share your true opinions and feelings with because they will probably disagree because they were taught different. and 2. because someone who has grown up with the same things you have, and has the same general knowledge about current events that matter to you (i.e trends or memes) matters more to you than someone who hasn’t. right?
and since someone who is your age’s opinion matters most to you, it should NOT be a thing that the same people who is your age is discouraging you with such harsh words casually about something that is so important to you, and is so normalised.
go on literally any tiktok with a trans person in it. any. you will 100% see a comment that says “still a guy” “we can tell buddy” “average american kid 💀💀”
imagine you posted a video, literally doing anything. you could’ve been making a funny relatable video which doesn’t even MENTION your gender in the slightest, and then you get a popup in your notifications seeing someone saying that shit. a stranger.
it’s really fucking easy to just say “don’t let them get to you.” “cyberbullying cannot be real cs like just ignore them” but when you actually get in the situation where someone says that shit to you it is 100% going to impact what you think of yourself and your gender negatively for as long as you live. well, maybe not that long, but you’re going to think of that comment randomly for another 5 years, let’s say. and that’s just ONE. if you’re someone that makes videos often, there are probably going to be tens of hundreds (maybe if you’re popular) comments that talk about it every single time without fail, and it’s going to impact you. ESPECIALLY if it’s instagram, because being blunt when using “dark humor” became majorly funny and evolved into your average teenage boy and sometimes even girl just casually saying something racist or homophobic and your friends laughing. it started out funny because you weren’t saying something outright racist, you were being creative about it, or making a joke about someone’s death but not outright saying it, and your friends would laugh out of shock because it was funny and a crazy, wild thing to say but now, since the blunt dark humour thing has been a running thing for a while now, when someone laughs at something dark you say you see them laughing and think it’s genuinely funny and over time that hardwires your brain to think being racist or something like that is just funny. not laughing because it was such a crazy dark thing to say, but because it’s funny. and normal. and now it’s normal to shit on queer people who just want to be like anyone else in society, because being a dick is funny. i just don’t get it.
i’m a funny person who isn’t that emotional most of the time, but when i am, man. i just sit on the edge of my bed and put my hands on my knees and just think.what if they found out? how would they react? when they found out about similar things they hit me. would they hit me? would they say they loved me no matter what and it wouldn’t matter? would they hold me in their arms and tell me they still loved me? or would they stare in disgust. with eyes burning with this hatred. feeling sorry they raised a daughter that could ever be like that. the worst, and most terrifying part is, i can’t fathom how they would react. i never even dared to interact with that topic with them, so i have no idea, not even the slightest idea, what they think about it. i guess they’re a bit more modern-minded than most parents, they didn’t force me to be a doctor or engineer, they said i could be what i wanted. (as long as it’s a good career, obviously) which is a step that is a LOT further than most parents like that take. but i just can’t even begin to think what they would be like.
anyway, that’s what i think. and i didn’t grow up with much representation until later in my life, but i was still young. i’m thankful for that, but i also really do wish i grew up with more lgbtq+ representation that wasn’t of white people. more lgbtq+ representation with poc, and people of my race, and my culture, and my country. we need to broaden our horizons. and stop repeating the same thing. gay white women, gay white men. happy pride month!
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might delete this later cs idk but yeah hope it was a fun read 👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍 WHERE ARE THE GAYS
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what the skibidi
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